Canada

Typical killer view in the Canadian Rockies

We are laying on the hood of the Explorer, several miles up a dirt road about an hour out of Jasper, Alberta looking at the stars.  They are, simply, incredible.  Jasper claims to have the darkest skies on the continent and it is a crystal clear night; no fog, smoke or pollution of any kind and the waning moon won’t be up for hours.  The sky is so clear that the reflection from the satellites makes them seem close enough to shoot down with my shotgun.  Peering through the binoculars at the Milky Way, it looks like there are a thousand holes poking through the sky.  Whether these are the darkest skies on earth or hype drummed up by the Jasper Chamber of Commerce is debatable.  But there is no denying the brilliance of the sky above us.

Glacial scouring with large boulder deposits

The Canadian Rockies are an endless chain of forbidding peaks still covered with large glaciers.  They are connected by vast valleys created by these same glaciers centuries earlier.  Glacially fed, mountain lakes inundate the landscape; every one seemingly more beautiful than the last.

Ho hum.  Just another perfect day in paradise

Catch & eat

 The day started with a decade’s old Bruce (my grandfather) fishing tradition known as “catch and eat”.  Rainbow trout for breakfast, cooked over the camping stove at our tent site in Banff National Park.  Tired of catching and releasing everything, I kept a 14” one from the night before after another stellar day in the Canadian Rockies.   

Start of hike into Lake Minnewanka inlet

Babe and I had hiked into the inlet of Lake Minnewanka to do some stream fishing.  We found ourselves off the beaten path, walking down a side trail with bear spray actually out and in-hand.  The area was closed to parties of fewer than four people because grizzlies were chowing down on the abundant buffaloberries, so the two of us were on full alert and constantly making noise.  The juicy red berries were everywhere and it was hard to hear because of the nearby stream, so the possibility of a surprise encounter was real.  In the words of the Canadian Park Service, “Bear spray can be effective with some bears when used properly.”  Now that's reassuring.  I feel vulnerable without a weapon.

It is impossible to go anywhere in this part of the world without seeing bear warnings.  Of course, everyone is hoping like hell to see a bear because bears are very cool.  As a result, many tourists respond in the most inappropriate ways when they do see one.  I have watched several people casually strolling 10 meters from large grizzlies while piling on top of each other to get a photo.  Fortunately, most bears are intelligent and easy going creatures that seem to understand when they aren’t being threatened.  But I have watched a bear in Yosemite tear the hard top off of an SUV like it was opening a tuna can to get at a cooler inside, and another tree a New Jersey couple on their honeymoon.  These beautiful creatures are powerful, dangerous animals that demand respect for those wanting to avoid the Darwin principle.

"Here bear, here bear".  "She tastes better than me bear"

We have seen several bears this year, numerous grizzlies and black bears.  Yesterday we pulled over for some stream fishing.  While assembling our gear for the hike in, Babe called out “BEAR”.  I thought she was kidding until I turned around to see a large black bear standing right there, unafraid of human contact.  Grizzlies are at the top of the food chain and not afraid of anything, but black bears normally run from human contact.  These habituated bears are the dangerous ones, so we piled into the Explorer post-haste and went somewhere else to fish. 

"Get your ass over here"

That same day we saw a caribou (a rare sighting), and two huge bull elk at dusk.  Both of the bulls carried massive 12-point racks.  The larger of the two marshaled a harem of 17 cows whereas the other had to make do with 3-4.  It is mating season so these bad boys are faced with the need to service all of them.  Impressive, especially since I can barely keep up with my one woman who always seems to be in heat.  After watching the elk for an hour we drive down a small, dirt road.  We see a wolf loping alongside us for a few seconds at the edge of a clearing before disappearing into the forest like a ghost.  It’s large size and long legs are unmistakable; the first wolf I have ever seen in the wild.  It is too dark to determine if it was alone or part of a pack, but given its proximity to the elk herd the likelihood is that it was with a pack on the hunt.  The reintroduction of wolves into the US is controversial, to say the least, given the fact they are bloodthirsty killers.  Wolves are killing machines and most of my relatives living in Northern Idaho are against reintroducing them to the States.  But they seem to coexist just fine across the border in Canada, and it is a thrill to see one. 

"Small" 6-point bull elk

Our campground in Banff

Banff was fabulous.  We eat the best meal I have had in years at a bistro and wine lounge called the Sage.  It is rare to have a meal where you savor every bite.  Ashland, the town where we live, is known for its restaurants.  But the reality is that most serve only well-prepared, pedestrian fare.  In my five years there I have had only two exquisite meals, one at the Peerless and another at Cucina Biazza.  The fare at Agave is consistently excellent, but not the gourmet caliber we experience at the Sage.  

Note engine on top and rest of train below spiraling thru tunnels

On the way to Lake Louise we detour a bit to eat at the renowned Truffle Pig in Fields.  Like at the Sage, the meal is prepared by a chef who takes great pride in his artistry.  Fields is a historically important railroad town and we marvel at a very long freight train winding its way through the engineering feat known as the Spiral Tunnels.  We see the engines emerge from the second tunnel as the middle of the train enters the first tunnel a mile back.  Keeping these tracks operational throughout the winter in this vast, rugged wilderness is no easy feat even today.

View from the lodge at Lake Louise

The road to Jasper from Banff is hyped as the “most beautiful drive in the world.”  Somewhat akin to anointing the “most beautiful woman” in the world, that is surely a matter of taste.  As we learn a few days later, Highway 99/97 from Kamloops to Whistler is also fabulous.  But this 130 mile drive to Jasper is like the Sports Illustrated Swimwear edition; every page is sumptuous as it winds through a landscape that constantly has us both muttering “WOW”.  It takes us all day to cover a distance that I could easily cover in under two hours in the Audi.  We stop at every pullout.  At one of them we hike off into the wilderness for about an hour where we power down and soak in our surroundings.  The incredible, rugged vistas are rivaled only by the clean air, lack of human sounds and fresh, moist evergreen smell that invigorates your soul.  Sitting there, I have never felt more alive or at peace.  Drive this road at least once in your life.

Along the road to Jasper

Babe and I instantly fall in love with Jasper.  Of all the great places we have visited during our journeys, this is the place where we would both consider moving.   First and foremost, it is in Canada.  Don’t make the mistake of thinking that Canada is just an extension of the US, although Canada reminds Babe and me of the rural States in our youth.  It is not over-merchandized, the pace is thoughtful instead of frenetic, there is space between places and life there puts more value on simple pleasures.  All of the cities are stellar, and the towns are great.  Canadians are universally nice and laid back; quieter than Americans or Europeans.  Their self-deprecating and irreverent sense of humor is refreshing and fun.  We love that British Columbia thumbed their noses at the French Canadian initiative to require two languages on every piece of printed material by choosing to add an obscure Indian language that no one uses.  The Canadian show Trailer Park Boys is my favorite sitcom and reflects the country’s exquisite wit.

The northern environment ultimately self-selects for people who prefer the winter season since they get about nine months of it.  It is no accident that Canadians invented and dominate my favorite spectator sport, ice hockey.  People there spend their free time outdoors and the country’s recreational facilities reflect that fact.  Most of the campgrounds feature flush toilets, showers and hot water.  Although it costs $8 CA for a fire permit, they supply all the firewood you could want. 

If I was President of the Unites States one of my first acts would be to invade Canada to secure a recreational paradise.  A squad of cheerleaders armed with BB guns should be enough to accomplish the task.  Once under our control, I would not allow them to change anything, ever.  In return, I would give them access to cheap food and gas as both are wicked expensive there (one reason you see few fat Canadians).  I have taken numerous climbing, skiing and camping vacations to Canada; it can't be beat.

"Tinder, kindling, wood, blow"

Babe is learning how to camp, proving to be an adept student.  But I have to laugh watching her try to build a campfire by squirting fire paste on top of a large log.  Predictably, it all burns off without igniting anything.  The next morning I teach her how to light a campfire; tinder, kindling, wood and blow to get it started.  I have had to light fires in the worst of conditions in order to provide a degree of comfort during a miserable night caught out in the elements.  The best fire I ever built was in pouring rain after Stan Mish, our friend Paul and I got rained off the South Face of Mt. Moran in Yosemite.  After several days of continuous rain we had decided to go for it after a break in the weather.  Sleeping in our down jackets at the base of the climb, we got up early and made it about 1,000 feet up before getting hammered by a big storm.  We carried no bivouac or protective gear, so we were forced to rappel off the sheer wall at night without headlamps.  Our ropes were so wet with no friction that we often slipped 20 feet or more before regaining control.  At one point, feeling around for an anchor on a nearly blank section of wall, I was forced to rappel off a single, soft-iron piton and then go off-rope while dangling from the end with one hand in order to reach a ledge with the other.  The terrain when we got down was a steep, cliff line so we had to wait for daybreak to move.  With only a single match, I built a fire under a large downed tree using moss for tinder, twigs for kindling and dead branches underneath the tree for wood.  After a miserable night we hiked out several miles the next morning, and then drove back to Flagstaff after downing some Ecstasy to spice up the ride home.  Kids!

Lake Maligne

In search of the perfect pool

Just outside of Jasper we spend the day at Lake Maligne fishing for rainbow trout surrounded by the relentlessly beautiful landscape.  I have caught so many trout on this trip that I quit counting.  Babe has caught a few, enough to wet her appetite, but she is still learning the art of catching trout on a fly rod.  It is a learned skill to understand where the trout are likely to hang out and to then present the correct fly in just the right way so that it floats irresistibly by their noses.  Let them see you and they won’t touch it.  I was lucky to learn the craft as a kid from my grandfather who was a farmer in Northern Idaho.  He was an excellent fisherman who survived for years when my mom was young on what he was able to catch or shoot.  I am trying to pass that knowledge on to Babe who is an eager disciple.  There is nothing quite like watching a fish explode out of the depths to attack your fly.  Kinda primordial.  Today we are catching 10” rainbows, too small to keep but fighting machines nevertheless.  They hit my fly with a vengeance and leap out of the water several times before I get them to shore and release them back into the water.  Sadly, neither of my sons appears interested in the sport.

Mt. Robson

More incredible scenery awaits us during the long drive from Jasper to Whistler where we spend the night before heading south to climb at Squamish.  There are few vehicles on the road once we leave Kamloops and the route rivals the road to Jasper for rugged beauty.  Whistler is the quintessential tourist town, tastefully done, with some of the best skiing and mountain biking on the planet.  It is full up when we arrive with 8,000 cyclists competing in a road race.  The next morning we head to one of my favorite climbing walls, the Squamish Chief.  John Harlin and I had climbed the mega-classic Grand Wall there a few years earlier.  It is over 1,000 feet of sustained, excellent and diverse wall climbing.  Unfortunately, the weather was pissing rain for the first time in weeks and the forecast was for two more days of the same.  So we sample the excellent bouldering at the base of the Chief.  Hanging out with the friendly, local bouldering community it feels like we are in a secret society living in the midst of an enchanted forest.  Beautiful place, great climbing.

Canada: vacation paradise

We decide to head south to Seattle.  It seems like yesterday that we arrived in Canada and we are sorry to leave it.  Logging in to email for the first time in days, I receive some bad but not unexpected news: my dog Slugger has finally succumbed to cancer.  The friendliest dog I have ever known, he was happy and pain free until the end.  It is a hard loss, and it is impossible for me to write about him without tears running down my cheeks.  He had a wonderful, loving spirit that accepted everyone as his friend.  Most humans would do well to emulate the love and affection he extended to all that he met.  Whenever we moved as a family, Slugger would be the first one to make friends with everyone in the neighborhood.  He will be sorely missed.

Slugger guarding the neighborhood