Frozen Tracks & Forgotten Relics: A Winter’s Search

When adventure feels like a distant dream, the answer isn’t always in chasing the unknown—it’s in rediscovering the familiar. Dig In Where You Stand is about breaking free from the monotony of routine and seeing the world with fresh eyes, right where you are. Wonder isn’t reserved for epic races or faraway destinations; it’s woven into the paths we travel every day, waiting to be noticed.

Single Speed MTB Rides At Sunset

Cycling embodies this very spirit of rediscovery. It turns familiar roads into fresh experiences, transforming the ordinary into adventure. Whether navigating bustling city streets, winding through forest trails, or coasting along quiet backroads, each ride presents an opportunity to engage with the world in a new way.

There are as many reasons to ride as there are people riding. Whenever I dive into bike advocacy or teach maintenance workshops, I make a point to ask: Why do you ride? What do you love about it? The answers vary widely, but one thing remains constant—everyone has their own personal connection to the saddle.

Yet, two overarching themes always emerge, and neither is surprising. First and foremost, most people ride for the sheer sense of freedom it offers. That freedom takes different forms depending on life circumstances—a single mother balancing responsibilities while transporting her child, a busy executive escaping the daily grind on their commute, a university or high school student using their bike as a tool for independence, or tweens exploring local trails while forging connections with friends and nature.

The second common thread is the deep sense of connection that cycling fosters. Whether reconnecting with oneself, the environment, or a larger community, riding a bike encourages a slower, more immersive way of experiencing the world. For some, it’s about the simple joy of feeling the wind against their face, the rhythmic cadence of pedaling, and the quiet satisfaction of moving forward under their own power. For others, it’s about the camaraderie of shared rides—the collective energy of group outings or the spontaneous conversations sparked at a stoplight.

Cycling is more than just transportation. It’s a personal experience, a means of liberation, a path to discovery, and a way to engage with the world in ways few other activities allow. No matter the reason, the beauty of biking lies in its ability to be whatever a rider needs it to be—an escape, an adventure, or simply a moment of peace.

For me, my bike has always been one of the best tools for exploration. For years, my desire to explore centered around exotic destinations, mega events, and bucket-list adventures. But when the COVID pandemic hit—bringing chaotic, stressful, and uncertain travel circumstances—I was forced to reconsider what adventure truly meant.

Photo by Tiago Nakamura on Unsplash

As a kid, I rode up and down the Ottawa River pathway, wove through the Rideau Canal, tackled the Gatineau Park loops, and ventured along the Ottawa Valley Recreational Trail (Algonquin Trail). I explored the Experimental Farm and countless other hidden corners. What connected all of these rides wasn’t just the thrill of movement—it was the excitement of discovery. Every outing felt like a treasure hunt, a search for new and wondrous places that transformed the familiar into something extraordinary. It was a thrilling way to engage with the outdoors, blending curiosity, adventure, and my love for bikes.

But as time passed, I drifted away from those simple joys. Riding became training, and training became numbers—watts, time in zone, sweat rate, calories, cadence, speed trends, flow, grit, TSS, rollers, TrainerRoad, seasonal averages, and peaking defined each ride. Performance took center stage, and somewhere along the way, the pure joy of riding risked being overshadowed by data and progress charts.

Pain Chamber

Then, a few months ago, I stumbled upon a post by @heatherc_204 while scrolling through Instagram. If you haven’t checked out her page, go say hi—and tell her I sent you. She’s got a sharp sense of humor, a refreshingly sarcastic edge, and an undeniable love for bikes. But beyond that, Heather is an explorer, the kind who turns every ride into an adventure.

It was February, and on that particular day, she had discovered an abandoned vintage car hidden deep in Assiniboine Forest. Wow. To say I was surprised would be an understatement. For the past 30 years, I had ridden through that park nearly every day, weaving through its trails, feeling its rhythms—yet I had never seen or even heard of this lost relic. How had it eluded me for so long? Suddenly, I was flooded with the same energy I had felt as a fearless kid riding up to Meech Lake—driven by curiosity, the thrill of discovery, and the promise of adventure. I had to find that treasure myself.

Deep within Assiniboine Forest in Manitoba, a handful of abandoned vintage cars sit quietly, swallowed by time and nature. This sprawling 285-hectare forest, nestled in the heart of Winnipeg, stands as one of Canada’s largest urban wilderness areas—a rare oasis where nature thrives just beyond the city’s center. But this sanctuary almost didn’t exist.

In the 1920s, the land was slated for suburban development—until the 1929 stock market crash abruptly halted construction. Left untouched for decades, the forest became an informal retreat for locals, though parts of it quietly doubled as makeshift dumping grounds. By the 1960s, a growing movement to protect the area gained momentum, spearheaded by passionate citizens and City Councilors Bernie R. Wolfe. The effort reached a turning point in 1971 when the Town of Tuxedo merged with Winnipeg, making preservation a viable option. Two years later, in 1973, the forest was officially designated a municipal nature park—a victory for conservation.

Assiniboine Park Trails

Today, Assiniboine Forest is a haven for wildlife, where deer, foxes, and over 200 bird species roam freely among wetlands, aspen groves, and winding trails. But beyond its natural beauty, the forest holds remnants of a forgotten past—abandoned cars scattered among the trees, whispering of histories long lost. These rusted relics serve as hidden markers of time, offering city dwellers a rare escape into the wild and a reminder that sometimes, the best developments are the ones that never happened.

The sight of these decaying vehicles sparks curiosity among cyclists, hikers, and urban explorers alike. Their origins remain somewhat mysterious—were they left behind by old logging operations, abandoned by nearby farms, or simply discarded, forgotten by the passing decades? Whatever their history, they have now become sought-after treasures, turning routine rides into thrilling scavenger hunts. Much like geocaching, the search for these vehicles adds an element of mystery and excitement to exploring the forest, with each find offering a glimpse into the past and a story waiting to be uncovered.

Hunting abandoned vintage cars on a bike is a real-world treasure hunt, blending adventure with nostalgia. The thrill comes from scanning backroads, overgrown fields, and forgotten stretches of pavement, searching for rusted gems swallowed by time. A weathered muscle car peeking through the brush, a classic truck quietly resting in a barn’s shadow—each discovery feels like uncovering a lost artifact, a fragment of history waiting to be admired. Just as geocachers rely on clues and coordinates, cyclists depend on instinct, exploration, and a sharp eye for forgotten details. But the real joy isn’t just in the find—it’s in the journey itself. The winding roads, unexpected detours, and the satisfaction of uncovering something hidden in plain sight transform every ride into an adventure, merging history, mystery, and the simple thrill of discovery.

On The Hunt

It was February, and winter cycling on a fat bike—much like the hunt for lost relics—requires patience and persistence. The cold adds a formidable layer of challenge, demanding careful preparation and unwavering determination. But for those willing to embrace it, the rewards are undeniable. The transformed landscapes, the quiet solitude, and the rhythmic crunch of tires on packed snow create an experience unlike any other—a reminder that adventure isn’t bound by seasons, only by the willingness to seek it.

Car 1

With only a few clues about the location of the first car, I had a general idea of where to look. But finding it took weeks of cold rides, strategic planning, and plenty of trial and error. Finally, I uncovered the oldest treasure—an abandoned 1928 Ford, tucked away like a forgotten artifact. In the summer, swarms of midges and overgrown trails keep me from visiting too often, but winter provides the perfect opportunity. Each season’s snow-covered rides will lead me back to that first discovery, a testament to the thrill of exploration—even in the harshest conditions.

The search for the second car proved even more challenging—not for lack of effort, but because winter transforms the landscape in unexpected ways. My only clue was that it lay somewhere along the west fence line. The problem was, winter trails often differ significantly from their summer counterparts. In previous years, riding a standard mountain bike meant sticking to well-worn paths, avoiding deep snow that would leave me postholing with no clear destination in mind. This time, I waited longer than usual for a sufficient snowpack, just so I could break out the fat bike—the ultimate tool for winter exploration. With its wide tires and extensive gear range, the fat bike lets me ride where I once could only walk. And as fat biking gains popularity, new, exciting, and rideable winter trail networks have been springing up across the province, expanding the possibilities for adventure.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being stuck—riding in circles, repeating the same motions without making any real progress toward my goal. No matter how hard I pushed forward, I wasn’t getting any closer. But sometimes, the key to solving a problem isn’t more effort—it’s a new perspective. Looking at something from a different angle can reveal details we might have overlooked, uncover new connections, and break free from rigid thinking. Whether it’s approaching a challenge backward, questioning assumptions, or simply stepping away to gain fresh insight, shifting our vantage point often unveils solutions that were hidden in plain sight. Perspective is powerful—it turns obstacles into opportunities and reshapes the way we engage with the world.

Car 2

One day, with no particular reason other than frustration, I decided to change my approach—riding the fence line backward from the parking lot toward the Hart Trail. That subtle shift unlocked new possibilities. Without the dense foliage obscuring my view and by seeing the terrain from a fresh direction, I was finally able to uncover the second car—another ancient Ford, quietly resting where time had forgotten it.

For me, the real joy of exploring isn’t about reaching a destination—it’s about the journey itself, the unexpected detours, the quiet moments of discovery, and the thrill of the unknown. I haven’t found the third abandoned vintage car yet, but that only adds to the excitement. Whether it takes months or years, the search keeps the spirit of adventure alive, fueling the same curiosity that once drove a 10-year-old boy to ride his bike in pursuit of something new. This treasure hunt is more than just finding rusted relics—it’s about keeping that youthful sense of wonder alive, reminding me that every ride holds the potential for discovery.

There’s more to dig into, more stories to tell, and more roads to ride. Stick around for the next chapter of Dig In Where You Stand—because the best discoveries often happen when you least expect them.