Canada IV
The next entries cover the main stretch of the trip but are reconstructed from notes since I was that busy Seeing Stuff that I'd be entirely out of go by the time I had a spot to semi-concentrate in.
First day out we got to see Lake Morrine, which is broad and bonny, and Lake Louise, which is bigger, even more aquamarine and has tourists round the edge. I took a few tourist photos and got a little Hallowe'en decoration crow with a supremely intelligent gaze from one of the wee resort-towns down Highway 1 (the crow is now called Clementine, and delighted the park tollbooth guard). I peered around the "beware bears" signs in case there were bears to see (there weren't) whilst my mother teased the whiskyjacks. There was a brief featherbrush of snow.
Lake Morrine
Lake Louise (over the tourists' heads)
The next day we went further and briefly stomped up to the big glacier at the Columbia Icefields, which boast the world's least effective safety barriers.
(the string in the foreground is the barrier. As you can see, it stops no-one.)
I wandered off for a better look at an ice cave and met a raven, but didn't really have time to chat or explore as mum had to get the driving done before dark.
We stayed the night in a strange discombobulated hotel made of tiny log cabins. The food was very posh and the salad excellent, though the vegetarian main course option tasted like they'd spilled salt in it. The waitresses kept running up, refilling water glasses and running away again, so I just drank lots of water.
Breakfast in the dining room was amazing, given the view over the mountains/forest and the ready supply of pancakes with compote and maple syrup. We didn't really stop in Jasper, but they have a replacement totem pole there for one that was repatriated and ceremonially put out grazing when it started to fall apart.
We did stop at Athabasca Falls, which are a kind of natural deco arrangement of water-carved potholes, jewel-green moss and the odd white-foamed turquoise water of the area, though only the two pictures I took on a whim turned out.
A pothole.
We also stopped at the Cree-owned mall near Lake Louise the next day to purchase food from the marvellous Trailhead Cafe, thank-you wine for mum's Calgary friends and a Haida-designed raven T-shirt from the gallery there, which did have some beautiful pieces but also sold "generic pretend Native American" stuff, so must have been used to tourists who didn't care. I was entirely too skittish and low on people-meter to talk to the cashier at all.
Snow on the Rockies.
The next day we literally spent on a bus - we didn't see any real Greyhound Folk, but there was a big, loud lady with pretend claws whose much-discussed children I pitied (merely listening to her made it clear the eldest daughter was taking care of the whole fatherless brood, mum included), some grandparents who talked (in Chinese) the whole 14 hours (the guy in front of them eventually pleaded with them to go to sleep, then apologised in true Canadian fashion when they pointed out there was only half an hour to go), an elder with a quiet smile who might've been native or north Asian, and a pair of grunchy granola-type young ladies my mother considered in need of herding, and mother-henned at until one took to calling her 'mom'. A fine way to travel.
I have little to say about these days because most of it was 'ooo' and aah' at the views - there are more variations on "mountains" than one might believe in the Rockies, and they are all stunning to look upon.
At the shore of Bow Lake, a rest stop.
First day out we got to see Lake Morrine, which is broad and bonny, and Lake Louise, which is bigger, even more aquamarine and has tourists round the edge. I took a few tourist photos and got a little Hallowe'en decoration crow with a supremely intelligent gaze from one of the wee resort-towns down Highway 1 (the crow is now called Clementine, and delighted the park tollbooth guard). I peered around the "beware bears" signs in case there were bears to see (there weren't) whilst my mother teased the whiskyjacks. There was a brief featherbrush of snow.
Lake Morrine
Lake Louise (over the tourists' heads)
The next day we went further and briefly stomped up to the big glacier at the Columbia Icefields, which boast the world's least effective safety barriers.
(the string in the foreground is the barrier. As you can see, it stops no-one.)
I wandered off for a better look at an ice cave and met a raven, but didn't really have time to chat or explore as mum had to get the driving done before dark.
We stayed the night in a strange discombobulated hotel made of tiny log cabins. The food was very posh and the salad excellent, though the vegetarian main course option tasted like they'd spilled salt in it. The waitresses kept running up, refilling water glasses and running away again, so I just drank lots of water.
Breakfast in the dining room was amazing, given the view over the mountains/forest and the ready supply of pancakes with compote and maple syrup. We didn't really stop in Jasper, but they have a replacement totem pole there for one that was repatriated and ceremonially put out grazing when it started to fall apart.
We did stop at Athabasca Falls, which are a kind of natural deco arrangement of water-carved potholes, jewel-green moss and the odd white-foamed turquoise water of the area, though only the two pictures I took on a whim turned out.
A pothole.
We also stopped at the Cree-owned mall near Lake Louise the next day to purchase food from the marvellous Trailhead Cafe, thank-you wine for mum's Calgary friends and a Haida-designed raven T-shirt from the gallery there, which did have some beautiful pieces but also sold "generic pretend Native American" stuff, so must have been used to tourists who didn't care. I was entirely too skittish and low on people-meter to talk to the cashier at all.
Snow on the Rockies.
The next day we literally spent on a bus - we didn't see any real Greyhound Folk, but there was a big, loud lady with pretend claws whose much-discussed children I pitied (merely listening to her made it clear the eldest daughter was taking care of the whole fatherless brood, mum included), some grandparents who talked (in Chinese) the whole 14 hours (the guy in front of them eventually pleaded with them to go to sleep, then apologised in true Canadian fashion when they pointed out there was only half an hour to go), an elder with a quiet smile who might've been native or north Asian, and a pair of grunchy granola-type young ladies my mother considered in need of herding, and mother-henned at until one took to calling her 'mom'. A fine way to travel.
I have little to say about these days because most of it was 'ooo' and aah' at the views - there are more variations on "mountains" than one might believe in the Rockies, and they are all stunning to look upon.
At the shore of Bow Lake, a rest stop.