When was the last time you heard exuberant applause in a sauna?

While in Ottawa this past long weekend, Angela and I felt no guilt whatsoever in ditching our daughters on Family Day and driving 15 minutes north to Le Nordik in the snowy Gatineau Hills.

We were excited to check out the many features that have been added to the 100,000-square-foot spa complex since our last visit in 2014. And we weren’t disappointed: I’ll cover all but one of them in an upcoming post about my recent craft beer-related travels. That’s right: Spas and craft beer, together at last.

The one new experience I simply can’t wait to share -- the Aufguss Ritual -- was unlike anything I’ve ever done, in a spa or otherwise.

After one glorious circuit of Le Nordik’s various hot and cold pools, saunas and steam rooms, we made our way to the spacious Finlandia sauna 10 minutes before the 1pm Aufguss. (The 15-minute ritual takes place on the hour every other hour.)

Sitting on the topmost of the three wooden tiers surrounding the sauna’s table-sized stove, we had worked up quite a sweat by the time the sounding of a gong signalled the start of the ritual. Within minutes, the place was packed.

While setting down several buckets of water, snow and perfectly formed snowballs, the Aufguss Master explained how the ritual would unfold and encouraged us to “listen to our bodies” and move to lower seating, or leave the sauna altogether, should the heat become uncomfortable.

Dramatic music filled the space as our young guide scooped out three of the snowballs, each infused with essential oils, and dropped them one by one onto the enormous stove’s super-heated rocks. Juniper-scented steam immediately rose into the air, and was enthusiastically dispersed by the Aufguss Master as she skillfully whirled a folded towel around the sauna, her tattooed arms glistening with sweat.

This exhilerating process was repeated two more times with different oils, raising the temperature and humidity to a point where a few members of the audience took their leave. Then, just before the ritual ended with efflusive and well-deserved applause, those who remained were cooled off in thrilling fashion when the Aufguss Master used her wooden scoop to douse us repeatedly with icy meltwater. Did I scream? You bet I did. Was it with pleasure or with pain? I’m not entirely sure -- and, as with many aspects of Le Nordik, that was the magic of the experience.

Warning: This video doesn't do the Aufguss justice. Just so you know.

Travel elicits many emotions, from awe to anger and from upgrade ecstasy to gift-shop remorse. But over the course of my Canadian wanderings there’s something more: Pride. That's what this daily series is all about: Sharing my proud perspective on the places and experiences — and in this case, the kind, generous people — that make my country the greatest on Earth.

It was late in the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, 2004, and I was stranded on the icy stretch of road between the Outaouais towns of Plaisance and Papineauville. I was travelling alone from Ottawa to my cousins’ chalet near Mont Tremblant, and with Quebec’s liquor-store workers on strike I was hauling most of the party supplies.

A half-hour earlier, I was motoring down Route 148 when my Volkswagen Golf suddenly stalled near a roadside poutine stand. With much cursing and spraying of WD-40 I managed to revive the (expletive deleted) vehicle, which a few minutes later gave up the ghost for good on the gravel shoulder.

With hazards blinking, I took stock of the situation. The road was deserted and I was still several kilometres from Papineauville, where any garages were undoubtedly closed. My cellphone was taking cues from the VW. I was beginning to wonder if I should have stayed at the poutine stand.

Just down the road, glowing windows — and strains of Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s “Takin’ Care of Business” — beckoned from a modest country home. I rang the bell three or four times — the folks inside were clearly in fine Dec. 31 form — before a stocky, beer-toting 20-something opened the door. “Hey, buddy!” he cried, to which I responded with a feeble, “Bonjour . . . parlez-vous Anglais?”
He nodded, introduced himself as Johnny Gauthier, and let me in.

A break in the BTO allowed me to explain my predicament. Johnny immediately suggested we get my car into the driveway, so he called to his cohorts and a group of young men — along with Johnny’s father, the grey-haired head of the household — donned winter gear and set out into the snowy Friday evening.

Ten minutes later, exhausted, I called my wife, Angela, who had made her way to Tremblant a couple of days earlier. Neither of us were thrilled that she would have to retrace her route for more than two hours in the snowy darkness.

Despite my hosts’ relentless hospitality, my Anglo-Saxon temperament insisted that I was imposing. “Is there somewhere I could wait in Papineauville?” I asked. “Would you mind if I called a cab?”

That’s when Johnny’s father, Étienne, stepped in. He looked me up and down, exchanged a few words with Johnny in French, and then said, “Why don’t you take my truck?”

“Thank you so much,” I replied, “but a cab would be fine. I really don’t want to impose and . . . ”

Étienne laughed and held up his hand. “No, no, I mean, why don’t you take my truck to Mont Tremblant?”

Now that was an imposition.

I was dumbfounded. My first instinct was to turn down the offer. “That’s very kind, but I couldn’t possibly . . . ”

But Saint Étienne, as I now think of him, would have none of it. “How long do you need it?”

“Well, till Monday, I guess . . . ”

St. Étienne reached into his pocket and pulled out several sets of keys — turns out he ran a trucking business — and detached one. “Here you go. Call your wife and tell her to stay put.”

At this point, the exchange felt surreal. I watched in elated shock as my disembodied fingers dialled the chalet’s number.

“Hi — have you left yet?” I asked.

“Clearly not,” Angela replied. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s unbelievable. Guess what: You don’t have to pick me up.”

“Why? Did you get the car started?”

“No. Étienne, the guy who lives here, is going to lend me his truck for the weekend.”

Silence. Then, “Well, you obviously can’t accept it. That’s crazy.”

That’s when I realized I had to take the truck. “Look,” I said. “When somebody shows this kind of faith in someone they just met, their offer can’t be refused. I mean, would I lend a complete stranger my car for three days? No way! So you have to wonder: Why is he doing this? He’s doing this because...”

Read the rest of the story in the Toronto Star

WHERE TO STAY
Two words: Free poutine. You can savour some of your own at the Ottawa Marriott Hotel and the Residence Inn Mont Tremblant Manoir Labelle, and you can savour it for free by exchanging Marriott Rewards for a dining gift card.   

Travel elicits many emotions, from awe to anger and from upgrade ecstasy to gift-shop remorse. But over the course of my Canadian wanderings there’s something more: Pride. That's what this series is all about: Sharing my proud perspective on the places and experiences that make my country the greatest on Earth. Some of my selections are world-famous, others are little-known and a few are acquired tastes. The insights offered below, meanwhile, may come in handy for the 4.2 zillion people converging on Canada’s capital tomorrow...

​It’s fitting that Ottawa’s skyline is still dominated by Parliament Hill’s Peace Tower. Many other trappings of federal and international government are prominent in the home of my alma mater — Go Ravens! — such as the Royal Canadian Mint, the Prime Minister’s official residence, and the Governor General’s estate. Combine all this history and ceremony with the country’s densest collection of world-class museums, and Ottawa succeeds in making Canadians proud — and visitors a little bit jealous.

Don’t leave without...
...climbing the Peace Tower on Parliament Hill. Free elevator trips to the observation deck below the four 15-foot-wide clock faces resume July 2, and provide glorious panoramic views of the region from 200 feet up. Guided tours of the Hill’s Centre Block, meanwhile, allow visitors to explore the neo-Gothic Senate and House of Commons, as well as the ornate Library of Parliament and stirring Memorial Chamber.
...visiting the National Gallery of Canada. A short walk from Parliament, this soaring architectural masterpiece is home to six expansive gallery spaces, including a Canadian collection featuring iconic works by the Group of Seven, and a European gallery filled with paintings by geniuses like Van Gogh, Cezanne and Rembrandt. There’s a lot of artistic glory to take in, so it’s a good thing the place is so comfortable, with a pair of peaceful landscaped courtyards, a relaxing cafeteria and intimate bookstore tucked behind the skyscraping glass windows of the Great Hall.
...strolling or skating along the Rideau Canal. Before it spills into the city’s namesake river via a spectacular flight of eight locks, this 190-km-long engineering marvel and World Heritage Site is lined with cycle paths, restaurants and pubs, parks and gardens, all of which provide ideal vantage points for admiring many of the landmarks on this list.

What we overlook
The aspects of Ottawa that aren’t all about Canada tend to fall by the wayside. Just across the river in Quebec, for instance, leafy Gatineau Park is a hiker’s, cyclist’s and skier’s dream, while the Casino du Lac Leamy is an adults-only playground with gaming galore, top-notch dining, decadent spas and a 1,100-seat theatre. In the city itself, the diversions that get plenty of attention from locals — the beaches and volleyball courts of Mooney's Bay Park, for instance, or the recently revamped Lansdowne recreation complex — tend to get skipped by visitors.

Locals only
Waterfront holiday homes abound just outside of Ottawa, but you don’t need to own recreational real estate to get in on the action. Gatineau Park is home to dozens of sandy beaches, and you can take a relaxing dip in “The Pond,” a secret swimming hole tucked into the ritzy Rockcliffe Park neighbourhood off the aptly named Pond Street. Then there's the Capital Pathway network, one of the largest multi-use trails in North America with more than 600 kilometres of car-free goodness connecting many of the attractions on this list.

Family
Why cross the Atlantic to get a taste of royalty when you can sample its trappings at Rideau Hall, the official residence and workplace of Canada’s Governor General? The Queen’s representative in Canada has some pretty sweet digs: The opulent public rooms and multi-million-dollar art collection will impress grown-ups, while the expansive outdoor grounds, complete with cricket pitch, skating rink and Alice in Wonderland-style Rose Garden, will enthral youngsters. Children will also get a kick out of the changing of the guard — and the towering headgear worn by the guardsmen. 

Hip Hoods
Convenience and charm collide in the Byward Market, a 26-block shopping district sandwiched between Parliament Hill, the Ottawa River and the multi-storey Rideau Centre shopping mall. It’s home to one of the oldest agricultural markets in Canada, but don’t expect just farmers and fishmongers here. Depending on the season, the market building itself often overflows with stands selling everything from wild blackberries to hand-made bracelets. The surrounding streets, meanwhile, are lined with boutiques, restaurants, clubs and taverns, which spill into a series of open-air courtyards that will be rocking on July 1.
Bank Street, one of Ottawa’s main thoroughfares, is also the principal artery running through the Glebe neighbourhood south of downtown. Boutiques, pubs and restaurants line the streetscape here, with the multi-purpose Lansdowne Park — home to the CFL’s Grey Cup Champion Redblacks — bordering the Glebe to the south and the picturesque, park-lined Rideau Canal marking its eastern border.

Culture
The stark modern design of the Canadian War Museum evokes a bunker, the grass-covered roof a battlefield, and small windows on a towering rooftop fin spell out "Lest we forget" in Morse Code. Inside, the permanent galleries display items including one of Adolph Hitler’s Mercedes limousines, while covering conflicts ranging from First Nations battles and the War of 1812 to the Cold War and Afghanistan. The highlight, however, is the Memorial Hall, a space for remembrance and contemplation containing a single artifact: the headstone of Canada’s Unknown Soldier from the First World War.

Read the rest of the story in International Traveller magazine

WHERE TO STAY
The Courtyard Ottawa Downtown, located in the heart of the Byward Market, features an on-site Bistro where you can turn a Marriott Rewards dining card into the most patriotic of Canadian beverage. (Hint: It’s beer.)

Travel elicits many emotions, from awe to anger and from upgrade ecstasy to gift-shop remorse. But over the course of my Canadian wanderings there’s something more: Pride. That's what this daily series is all about: Sharing my proud perspective on the 30 places and experiences that make my country the greatest on Earth. Some of my selections are world-famous, others are little-known, and a few are acquired tastes. Speaking of acquired tastes...have you ever played Watermelon Scramble?
 
As miffed as I am at Mother Nature over the Toronto Islands situation, I have to give her credit for warming the lakes of the Laurentides.
 
Unlike Ontario cottage country, which is mostly flat and relatively useless in winter, this region north of Montreal encompasses the verdant Laurentian Mountains, which are home to major ski resorts such as Mont Tremblant and Mont Saint-Sauveur. In summer it has it all too: Dock-dozing, paddle-boarding, fly-fishing, keg-standing, water-skiing, Watermelon Scramble...
 
Watermelon what now? The rules of this barely-controlled chaos are detailed in The Family Book of Sports and Games, which was unearthed one summer afternoon at my cousins' lakeside chalet near Tremblant. Guides like this 1954 gem have been replaced by web searches that can dial up family diversions by the dozen, but plug "Watermelon Scramble" into any of them and you won't get this back: "The group should be divided into two equal teams. Each team marks a spot on the water's edge for its goal. One player swims out with a greased watermelon and leaves it in the water. Both teams are lined up at the shore. At a signal, everyone jumps in the water and races toward the melon. The object is to bring the melon back to goal."
 
Suffice to say that Watermelon Scramble is loads of riotous fun. If The Family Book of Sports and Games was still in print, however, I would email author Helen Joseph (or the executor of her estate) and suggest that she include these points in the next edition:
 
1. Don't try to catch the watermelon, unless you want a watermelon-shaped bruise on your chest.
 
2. Don't spike the melon on the shore after scoring, unless you want the game to end with a splat.
 
3. Give shorter players a wide berth, unless you want a disconcerting welt on your...you get the idea.
 
These days, instructions for a game like this would be rife with disclaimers about beach safety, water contamination and genetically modified melons. Back in '54, however, these issues were the least of parents' concerns, what with "Johnny, Jump the Fence" on the menu. As described by TFBOSAG:
 
"A penknife should be stuck a little way into the ground on a slant with the head leaning toward the 'fence,' which is formed when the player puts his left hand on the ground, with his little finger lying on the ground, and his palm facing the knife. With his right hand, he slaps the knife upward toward the fence. The object is to make the knife jump over the fence and stick in the ground on the other side..."
 
I'm pretty sure Children's Aid would be called within seconds if someone saw my kids playing "Johnny, Jump the Fence."
 
To be fair, the book does include a few disclaimers. But they are mostly hilarious. For the various knife games, it cautions players to "remember that any game with knives can be dangerous unless the players are careful at all times." (The same goes for chainsaw and grenade games, right?) It adds that by playing slowly, the "chances of being hurt are fewer." (Read: Stab wounds are inevitable but less frequent.)
 
Then there's the addendum to the self-explanatory "Pie Eating Contest," which reminds contestants that "the pies should be edible."
 
Last but not least, the "Javelin Throw" is described as "a measure of throwing ability to keep the men busy while the women prepare the food."
 
Come to think of it, maybe the cottage games of 1954 weren't so bad after all…
 
WHERE TO STAY
You won’t have to resort to "Johnny, Jump the Fence” at Lac Tremblant’s gorgeous beach club, which is a short walk from the Residence Inn Mont Tremblant Manoir Labelle in the lively resort village. The beach is an ideal spot for Watermelon Scramble, but the Javelin Throw isn’t such a good idea...

If only my globetrotting missteps were as prosaic as dingy hotel rooms and getting bumped off flights.     

"Write what you know," the saying goes, and this certainly applies to the overall theme of my recent Globe and Mail guide to dealing with holiday travel chaos.

That said, there's a lot I couldn't fit in. Over the years I've faced many travel challenges I couldn't overcome using conventional methods (press credientials, bribes etc.). And this being the season of retrospective round-ups, I've assembled a few of them here. You know, for fun!
  
1. Car brakes down, complete stranger lends me his truck for the weekend. Yes, this happened (at the modest Quebec home pictured above).

2. I pay Air Transat $80 so I can sit with my wife and kids on a flight. Sounds simple, right? Wrong.

​3. Laotian barge insurance does not cover "posterior damages." You've been warned!

I have to tip my hat to Mother Nature for the stellar pre-Labour Day weather in Southern Ontario. The forecast for the weekend is glorious, and yes, I am now knocking on a hideous desk that must contain at least a small amount of vegetable matter. 

Then again, Mother Nature has fooled us before. But if she pulls a dirty trick this weekend, it's comforting to know I have The Family Book of Sports and Games to fall back on. 

The 1954 guide to "rules and inside strategy for over 500 games" was unearthed during a particularly damp summer afternoon at my cousins' Quebec chalet. Books like this little gem have been replaced by search engines that can dial up diversions by the dozen, but plug "Watermelon Scramble" into any of them and you won't get this back:

"The group (in our case, four desperate parents and four kids on the verge of meltdowns) should be divided into two equal teams. Each team marks a spot on the water's edge for its goal. One player swims out with a greased watermelon and leaves it in the water. Both teams are lined up at the shore. At a signal, everyone jumps in the water and races toward the melon. The object is to bring the melon back to goal."

Suffice to say that Watermelon Scramble is loads of chaotic fun. If The Family Book of Sports and Games was still in print, however, I would email author Helen Joseph (or the executor of her estate?) and suggest that she include these points in the next edition:

1. Don't try to catch the watermelon, as evidenced by the watermelon-shaped bruise on my chest.
2. Don't spike the melon on the shore after scoring, unless you want the game to last less than 42 seconds.
3. Children tend to heave the melon at groin level, as evidenced by the disconcerting welt on 
my...you get the idea.

These days, instructions for a game like this would be rife with disclaimers about beach safety, water contamination and the use of genetically modified melons. But back in '54, these issues were the least of parents' concerns, what with "Johnny, Jump the Fence" on the menu. As described by TFBOSAG:

"A penknife should be stuck a little way into the ground on a slant with the head leaning toward the 'fence,' which is formed when the player puts his left hand on the ground, with his little finger lying on the ground, and his palm facing the knife. With his right hand, he slaps the knife upward toward the fence. The object is to make the knife jump over the fence and stick in the ground on the other side..."

I'm pretty sure Children's Aid would be called within seconds if someone saw my kids playing "Johnny, Jump the Fence."

Likewise with "Mumblety Peg," in which "all the children sit around in a circle. Each has his own jackknife..." I won't describe all the game's "trials," but they involve holding a blade in various finger- and ear-endangering positions and trying to stick it in the ground (and not in your friend's foot).

To be fair, TFBOSAG does include a few disclaimers of its own. But they are mostly hilarious. For the knife games, it cautions players to "remember that any game with knives can be dangerous unless the players are careful at all times." (The same goes for chainsaw and grenade games, right?) It adds that by playing slowly, the "chances of being hurt are fewer." (Read: stab wounds are inevitable, but less frequent.) 

Then there's the addendum to the self-explanatory "Pie Eating Contest," which reminds contestants that "the pies should be edible."

Last but not least, there's the "Javelin Throw," a beach-picnic standby that "can be a measure of throwing ability to keep the men busy while the women prepare the food."

Come to think of it, maybe the cottage games of 1954 weren't so bad after all...

Does anything say "Summer in Ontario" like cliff-jumping into a lake? For the record, I've never backed down from one of these leaps, but not because I'm some kind of fearless daredevil. (To my credit, I am one of the few men who has survived a "Mystical Water Ride.")

The key: I know my limit. I never want to be that guy -- and I'm personally acquainted with a few of them -- who hums and haws at the top of a drop only to end up opting for the "balk of shame."

I've jumped off countless cliffs into dozens of lakes and rivers across Ontario and Quebec cottage-country -- Kahshe and Go Home lakes are two of my personal favourites -- but none have topped out at more than 20 feet. Then there's Rick's Bar in Negril, Jamaica, where I plunged 35 feet from the famous cliffs upon which the tavern is perched. It was there that I officially established my cliff-jumping (and Pina Colada) upper limit, and realized that some jumpers appear to have no upper limits, as evidenced by locals who nearly doubled the drop by leaping from spindly trees topping the cliffs.

This brings me to Devin “Supertramp” Graham, who has made something of a career out of acrobatic cliff-jumping around the world. Indeed, Contiki Tours' new Contiki Legends campaign includes a video of Graham doing his thing along Italy's glorious Amalfi Coast. Check it out above. It is...bonkers.

Contiki also posted a list of "8 Amazing Cliff Diving Spots Around the World," which I've pasted below. Turns out Rick's Bar is one of them, so I left it out. That means there are seven jumps remaining on my bucket list. The photos alone (in the gallery at the end) are worth the price of admission. Which just happens to be zero dollars and zero cents. You can thank me by refraining from heckling if you ever see me make the balk of shame...

FURORE BRIDGE, FURORE, ITALY
Furore, known locally as "Neverland," is a small village on the steep cliffs of a fjord. The Fjord of Furore is easily one of the most striking things about the area, where water erosion has created stunning cliffs that overhang the ocean. Then there's the Furore Bridge, where diving championships are held annually and where you can jump 90 feet into the water.

SERPENT'S LAIR, INIS MOR, IRELAND
This 92-foot drop attracts cliff divers from around the world, and even played host to championships in recent years. It's been described as a "leap of faith," because all you see is rock until a few seconds after you've jumped.

CRATER LAKE, CRATER LAKE NATIONAL PARK, OREGON
Crater Lake is the deepest lake in the U.S., so you don't need to worry about hitting the bottom nearly 2,000 feet below the surface.

THE AZURE WINDOW, GOZO, MALTA
This 92-foot-high arch consists of yellow to pale-grey limestone, and was used as a shooting location in Season 1 of Game of Thrones.

GEOJE ISLAND, SOUTH KOREA
Have your pick of impressive granite rock faces to throw yourself from. If you're in to that kind of thing.

LAKE VOULIAGMENI, GREECE
This amazing spot, locally referred to as "Sunken Lake," maintains a 24°C water temperature year round and is said to be haunted by numerous mystical creatures (just to make it even scarier).

STARI MOST, MOSTAR, BOSNIA
Nestled within the Bosnian city of Mostar is the Stari Most, or "Old Bridge," over the river Neretva, where for decades locals and tourists alike have jumped into the freezing water to the applause of those on the banks of the river below.

Round 2 of the Great Canadian Travel Draft kicks off amid a storm of controversy and recrimination. Himmelsbach is stuck in a meeting. Smith is juggling 17 deadlines. Esrock is surreptitiously calling from the cabin of a taxiing aircraft, and Byers is still a bit miffed about not being able to pick McDavid. I’m still smarting from Smith’s Round 1 Tofino pick, but not matter: With so much at stake – and the actual stakes yet to be determined – these battle-hardened travel writers won't back down without a complimentary upgrade to first class or something!

(To see how Round 1 of this fantasy travel draft went down, click here. For an explanation of what the heck is going on, click here. For a photo of a man in a narwhal costume, click here.)

ROUND 2
Robin Esrock: “Cycling across PEI. Gentle slopes, great seafood, the Confederation Trail, luggage shutte service, sweet coastline. Who needs Tuscany?  Shuck me an oyster...”

Adam Bisby: “A skeleton run at the Whistler Sliding Centre: I spent the scariest 30.45 seconds of my life hurtling down the 2010 Olympic track at nearly 100 kilometres an hour and pulling four Gs in the turns.”

Karan Smith: “Dancing under the red and white striped big top during the Dawson City Music Festival in this dusty Yukon town.” 

Vawn Himmelsbach: Beamsville Bench along the Niagara Peninsula, where you can walk or bike between small, charming wineries. Well worth a visit: Tawse, Malivoire and Daniel Lenko.”

Jim Byers: "For all the amusement park atmosphere around the town of Niagara Falls, there's also an immense beauty to the falls. The majesty and power of the billions of gallons of water that come thundering over the Niagara Escarpment every day is truly awe-inspiring, especially when seem from below on a boat excursion or from inside the rock on the Behind the Falls experience.

ROUND 3
Byers: “Alberta’s Icefields Parkway. The majesty of ageless, dark brooding mountains capped with the fiercest and most pure white snow imaginable. Deep canyons filled with gushing white water in spring. Summer time visits from elk and deer and, yes, powerful black bears. Fall colours that sparkles in the autumn sun. There's a reason the drive from Jasper to Banff is considered one of the finest in the world.”

Himmelsbach: “Montreal! Hanging out at my favourite spa-sur-l'eau in the old port ... on a boat ... with a bar ... and a DJ.”

Smith: “Okay, I think Ontario needs a little more love. Canoe camping in Algonquin Park.” 

Bisby: “Well then how about Ottawa’s Carleton Cup, aka ‘the Ultimate Canadian Triathlon.’ Skating the eight-kilometre length of the world's longest skating rink, running through the Byward Market, and sipping a ‘victory quart’ at a local dive bar.”

Esrock: “Spending one chilly night in the Hotel de Glace in Quebec City. If you can handle it. Many guests don't make it all the way through.”

Stay tuned for the draft’s dramatic conclusion on Wednesday…

Tube parks are practically mandatory at ski resorts these days. Blue Mountain, for instance, couldn’t live without one.

Eight years after closing its original venue for sliding down snowy slopes on inner tubes, Ontario’s largest mountain village has unveiled Hike N’ Tube, which features four undulating lanes on a hillside overlooking the Westin Trillium House hotel.

Hike N’ Tube is just one more diversion for Blue guests who don’t ski or snowboard, and offers reliable family fun for anyone who can pull a tube up a hill (it’s designed for sliders over the age of two). I’m pretty sure that Grace, my five-year-old daughter, would have climbed the 100-metre-long hill until the snow melted – and even then would have kept going, as she does – while my wife Angela (pictured above) agreed with the general consensus that the spinning descents were “speedier than expected.”

Hike N’ Tube may elicit squeals of glee, but you’d have to have lived an extremely sheltered life to feel even a hint of fear on its gentle slopes. The same can’t be said for the other venues on this list. Just as ski hills have beginner and black-diamond runs, tube parks also range from tame to hilariously terrifying, and the five spots below lean toward the latter: 

Glissades des Pays d’en Haut, Piedmont, Que.
Quebec embraces tubing like nowhere else on Earth, and this 50-year-old park halfway between Montreal and Mont Tremblant represents the pinnacle of the pursuit in La Belle Province. Billed as the largest tubing centre in the world, its 32 runs max out at 250 vertical feet and are serviced by five lifts, including one chairlift. “Snow rafts,” meanwhile, accommodate as many as 12 riders (pictured below), while four-person bobsleds mimic the Olympic sport (but on snow). The direct English translation of the park’s name is unclear, but let’s just go with “Ahhhhhhhhhh!” for now… 

Coca-Cola Tube Park, Whistler, B.C.
Like every venue on this list, Whistler’s (pictured below) uses a lift to help guests reach the top of its seven 400-metre-long lanes. Once sliders get there, however, there’s a unique variety of options: They can careen down in a group (as long as conditions permit); there’s a “kids’ lane” halfway up where parents can hang onto their child’s tube (for the child’s sake, of course); and there are even child-sized tubes. Plus, Beaver Tails and poutine – together at last! – are served in the on-site snack bar.  

Chicopee Tube Park, Kitchener, Ont.
No snowfall around March Break? No problem: A snowmaking system keeps these six 300-metre-long lanes open all winter long, high-powered halogen lights keep them open till 10 p.m., and for refreshments there’s a splendid log chalet overlooking the hill.

Valcartier Vacation Village, Saint-Gabriel-de-Valcartier, Que.
What happens when snow coasts this waterslide park just north of Quebec City? Simple: It becomes “the largest winter playground in America.” Its 35 snow slides have fear-inducing names like Himalaya and Everest, and reach speeds of up to 80 km/h. Snow rafts, meanwhile, let groups of 12 scream in unison, while the unique Tornado whirls parties of eight down the slopes.

Thunder Valley, Horseshoe Resort, Barrie, Ont.
There are no official speed records for tubing in Canada, but these five 200-metre-long lanes are as steep as they come. And if guests need a few hundred extra calories, or a few ounces of liquid courage, to take the plunge, Horseshoe’s tube park theme nights include specialty cocktails in the Crazy Horse tavern or hot chocolate and s’mores by a bonfire.

Why am I launching this monthly series on the last weekday in January? No month is more escape-worthy than the one to come — hence the “February blahs” — and here in the Great White North you can choose to embrace winter with a snowy getaway, or escape it in a spa, gallery, aquarium, restaurant and the like. Here, then, are three bargains that cover the spectrum:

Bayview Wildwood Resort, Muskoka
Toronto is blanketed in white this morning, but trust me: Sooner or later, the city will revert to its standard winter brownness. A 90-minute drive north, however, the Muskoka landscape surrounding Bayview Wildwood Resort (pictured) stays snowy all winter long, and is ideal for XC skiing, snowshoeing, skating, tobogganing…in short, all those activities you can’t do when Hogtown turns brown. Bayview Wildwood just launched a two-night “Resort to Fun Winter Weekends” package, which includes two lavish buffet breakfasts and two three-course dinners, resort amenities such as an indoor pool, hot tub, games room and squash courts, live entertainment on Saturday night, and all the equipment and facilities needed for the aforementioned diversions. The damage? As little as $552 (plus tax) for a family of four until Feb. 8, and again from Feb. 20 to March 8.

Scandinave Spa Montreal
The sublime hot-then-cold circuit of pools, saunas and steam rooms offered by the Scandinave chain of spas takes on a decidedly urban feel in Montreal's gorgeous Old Port district, where the indoor facility (pictured below) features bean bag chairs, mood lighting and plenty of glass and chrome. It’s all extremely relaxing — especially when paired with a massage — and until March 26 costs just $39 for the baths and $99 for the baths plus a massage on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. Combine this with a midweek special from one of the spa’s 21 lodging partners, and February will melt away in a hurry.

Resorts of the Canadian Rockies
There are some very solid ski deals right now from Resorts of the Canadian Rockies, which owns six mountains across B.C., Alberta and Quebec. At Fernie’s Slopeside Lodge, for instance, guests can get 20 per cent off stays of two nights or more and save 25 per cent on lift tickets. Together, this yields a nightly ski-and-stay rate of $91 per person (plus taxes and based on double occupancy). That price somehow dips slightly, to $87, with a similar deal at Glacier Mountaineer Lodge at Kicking Horse (pictured below), and even further, to $68, at Kimberley’s Polaris Lodge.