Well, folks, here we are at Rainbow Valley Campground—a hidden gem so secret I half expected it to come with a treasure map. Nestled right in the heart of Edmonton, this magical mix of towering trees, lush old-growth forests, and more hiking trails than you can shake a walking stick at (and trust me, I tried). I think they technically don’t advertise it as an enchanted forest, but after spending a few days here, I’m pretty sure I saw a squirrel wink at me.

John, the Rockstar Husband, is handling RV life like a champ. He’s got his morning coffee routine down to an art, complete with the deep, contemplative staring out into the wild—which in this case is a very persistent squirrel that has decided our campsite is its personal territory. I’m about to spill one coffee away from naming it. (Suggestions welcome.)

Hiking, hiking and more hiking

Now, let’s talk about the hiking! When we discovered that the trails around Rainbow Valley were bike-free zones, I did an internal cartwheel. It’s not that I have anything against people on bikes, but let’s just say my experience with chihuahuas and fast-moving objects on wheels is… traumatic. So, no bikes, no off-leash chaos—just us, the forest, and the dogs. Sounds perfect, right? And it was. Mostly.

Picture this: John, me, and our trusty trio of chihuahuas—August, Finnegan, and Casey—proudly trotting down the trail. We averaged about 10,000 steps a day, which sounds impressive until you remember that the dogs, bless their tiny hearts, take four steps for every one of ours. I kid you not, after day one, Casey started looking at us like we were leading him into the wilderness for some kind of revenge plot.

August, of course, was thriving because the paths were almost entirely paved. That dog could probably out-hike a mountain goat as long as the paths were civilized. Finnegan was doing his best to run twice as much as everyone else, occasionally darting into a bush to sniff something that, according to his chihuahua instincts, was critically important. And then there was Casey… By the end of our hikes, the little guy was giving off major “I’m retiring from this family” vibes. I’ve never seen such a tiny dog give such big side-eye.

It got so bad that John, being the Rockstar Husband he is, started carrying Casey like he was a tiny, furry baby sloth. By day three, this happened so often that I swear John’s biceps doubled in size. People we passed on the trail didn’t even bat an eye anymore. They’d just nod as if to say, Ah yes, the mighty hiker and his tiny travel companion.

But here’s the kicker: Casey’s prince-level expectations have now resulted in us ordering a front pack for him. That’s right, folks, we’re officially the kind of people who carry a chihuahua like a baby kangaroo. We’ll be picking it up in Bragg Creek (thanks, Mackenzie’s, for fueling our descent into peak dog-parent absurdity).

In the meantime, though, we’re still loving the hikes through untouched ecosystems. There’s something pretty magical about wandering through trees older than your grandpa and realizing that nature just exists like that, in its own wild, mysterious way. Plus, it’s nice to know that we can enjoy the trails without worrying about dodging mountain bikers or rogue squirrels on scooters (okay, I made up the scooter part, but you never know in Edmonton).

Diaster narrowly averted

So, if you thought our hiking adventures were the only excitement at Rainbow Valley Campground, think again. Aside from the lush trails and chihuahua-induced workout regimens, we stumbled upon something that quite literally took things to new heights: an aerial park. I’m not saying we almost joined in on the fun, but watching a bunch of young people flip around like monkeys definitely had me rethinking my life choices. These kids were swinging through the air like Cirque du Soleil hopefuls, bouncing between apparatuses like it was no big deal. Meanwhile, John and I stood there clutching our coffees, watching in awe, and making mental notes. Future family camping excursion? Maybe. But let’s be real—I’m about three sit-ups away from needing a crane to get through that course.

Speaking of adventures, let me tell you about our second morning at the park. I woke up feeling good—birds chirping, coffee brewing—and then my phone pinged. It was a lovely little message from my bank: “Hey, just FYI, you’re apparently trying to book an extended vacation at a ski resort.” Cue the mental gymnastics of me wondering when I blacked out and decided to take up skiing.

After a brief freak-out, I called the bank, and shout out to them for being on it! They reversed the charges instantly and issued me a new card. Sounds like a happy ending, right? WRONG. Trying to get a new bank card when you’re provinces away from home isn’t exactly a walk in the park. We eventually decided to have it sent to my amazing cousin Cale in Calgary (thanks, cuz!). With that settled, John the Rockstar Husband and I figured we’d go on a stroll to clear our heads.

As we were walking, we noticed something interesting: the adjacent complex to the campground is called Snow Valley Ski Resort. And suddenly, all the puzzle pieces clicked into place. The campground is run by the very same ski resort that had “stolen” my card. You see where this is going, right? Yep, those charges weren’t fraudulent at all! They were just campground fees that somehow got processed as ski fees. Cue another round of phone calls to the bank, trying to reverse the reversal. Long story short, my card is still dead, but at least I’m not trying to fight off imaginary ski bandits.

But Why Edmonton at all?

Oh, and did I mention we had two big reasons for stopping in Edmonton? The first was IKEA, the holy land for anyone living in an RV (or as we call it, The Raven). Our mission: get a few things to spruce up our space. It also happened to be John’s birthday, so what better way to celebrate than with a Swedish meatball feast and an IPA chaser? Nothing says “Happy Birthday” quite like IKEA’s cafeteria cuisine. And get this: we managed to walk out of IKEA with almost everything we needed (except for that one dish set, of course), and the bill was less than a typical Costco run. Miracles do happen, folks.

Later that evening, I had a fabulous dinner with my CityU cohort. It was so great to catch up and chat for a few hours—we might have even solved a few of the world’s problems over dessert. The next day, Alex, one of my cohort buddies, came out to the campground to meet the chihuahuas and check out The Raven. I think we’ve officially converted them to RV life.

All in all, Rainbow Valley really delivered—hiking trails, aerial acrobatics, accidental banking drama, and chihuahua antics included. We’ll definitely be back for round two, though next time, I’ll probably double-check my bank statements before panicking. Stay tuned for the next adventure, and as always, keep an eye out for Casey’s debut in his new front pack!

So, Rainbow Valley, you’ve been a dream—except for the fact that you’ve now convinced Casey he’s royalty. But hey, isn’t that what adventure is all about? Finding hidden gems, making memories, and turning your dog into the kind of diva that deserves a crown. Until next time, fellow travelers!

(Stay tuned for when we debut Casey’s new front pack in Bragg Creek. There will be photos.)

Cheers,
Tracy, John, August, Finnegan and Casey