The untold story of the “Canadian Mayflower:” A family roots journey in Nova Scotia
 

A pilgrimage to Kejimkujik reveals centuries-old connections between descendants of Nova Scotia’s first Scottish settlers and the Mi'kmaq who saved them 

By Liz Beatty
 

Listen to an audio version of this story on our new travel podcast, Here & There.

From behind locked gates, we spy the grey-tarped profile of the 18th-century Dutch-style tall ship at the Hector Heritage Quay in Pictou, Nova Scotia. No masts. It’s in mid-restoration in spring 2022 when we visit. Massive new Douglas fir ribs contrast with grey, rotted oak planks, yet to be replaced. The whole work site and visitor centre won’t open for the season until tomorrow. But still, I can’t believe we’re here. Finally.

For as long as I’ve known my husband, Tim, Hector, a 26-metre three-masted brig-style ship, has been part of his family lore. Some call it the Canadian Mayflower. Its harrowing 11-week voyage from Ullapool, Scotland, delivered some 189 souls to the shores of Pictou Harbour on Sept. 15, 1773. A framed copy of the ship’s manifest has hung on our den wall in Caledon, Ont., for more years than I remember. Eighteen of the children listed onboard were buried at sea. When the vessel finally landed, it was too late for the growing season, with none of the promised accommodations, and limited provisions. If not for the Mi’kmaq, those who made it ashore would have perished that first winter, too. 

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The Essential Itinerary: Canmore and Kananaskis, Alberta

Mount Engadine Lodge is the perfect base for a slew of spectacular mountain trails  

Story and photography by Sarah Brown
 

It’s a balmy 10 degrees on this winter’s day, the chinook winds turning last week’s powdery trail into a sparkling, crystalline path — not great for snowshoeing, but ideal for strolling in spikes. The snow-topped peaks of the Rockies beckon, encouraging us ever upward. Curious spruce grouse pop out from the shadows and gregarious Canada jays swoop overhead. Tracks beside the trail suggest the proximity of hares, sheep, some sort of cat. These are the glorious Rockies of the Canmore, Kananaskis region, an abundance of snowshoe and ski trails right on the doorstep of Mount Engadine Lodge, a classic six-room mountain getaway (think fireplaces, warm leather chairs and breathtaking views) with a few cabins and luxury yurts nearby. It’s frequented mainly by in-the-know Calgarians, but the rest of Canada deserves to be in on the secret.
 

Five ways to fall in love with winter in Quebec’s Charlevoix region

From snowshoeing on a frozen river to soaring over snow-covered mountains in a helicopter, here’s how to make the most of a family winter getaway in this spectacular region on the north shore of the St. Lawrence 

By Alexandra Pope 
 

In the middle of a half-hearted and historically warm El Niño winter, I took my family to Quebec’s Charlevoix region and found the wonderland we’d been missing — well, that one of us had, anyway. 
 

I grew up skating and skiing and have always had a deep affinity for snow and cold; my husband Jason is more of the “sit in the lodge with a book and a hot toddy” type. Our son, Marcus, is only three, but I’m doing my best to turn him into an all-weather kid. As we drove the steep, winding highway northeast from Quebec City, past picture-perfect habitant farmsteads and pines with their arms full of fresh snow, I figured if any place could kindle a love of winter, it would be this spectacular region nestled in an ancient meteorite crater between the Laurentians and the St. Lawrence River.