The Beautiful Canadian Rockies!

Hello everybody! Hope you are all having a terrific mid-July! We’ve been as busy as beavers (but we haven’t seen any) and are currently in beautiful Jasper, Alberta, just over the border from British Columbia. So close, in fact, that I always thought Jasper was actually in British Columbia. We’ve got no wifi here or in Banff where we’ve been the past couple few days, but we’re making a run into the internet café in town just so we can keep you up to date on the goings-on. But I’ll bet you don’t even appreciate it, do you? DO YOU??? Bunch of lousy ingrates.

Oh, sorry about that. Continuing on... It is absolutely remarkable here. We are staying at the campground on Whistlers Mountain, which is named that because of the loud shrill whistle that the hoary marmots make. (Yes, I would also be offended if I was a marmot and got called that name.) It is a sound, incidentally, that Kieran can exactly duplicate, just as he was able to exactly mimic the “peep” of the ground squirrel in Glacier. This talent of his is really a point of pride for me… I mean, sure, maybe you have a kid that can throw a decent fastball or is good at math or can play the tuba or whatever. But lots of kids can do that stuff. How many five-year-olds can carry on an intelligent conservation with not one, but two species of rodent? And I think I should mention that it’s only two that we know of, so far.

If you’ve ever camped in a non-primitive campground—a KOA or some other type of RV park—there’s a certain aura about them, the way everything is in its place and all the ducks are in a row. Everything is arranged into a very special sort of blandness, a natural experience that seems to not have any nature. That’s not Whistlers. Here, we are in the midst of a mountainside forest. Right now I sit surrounded by dozens of pines trees, as birds flutter by and squirrels scurry through. The kids have a meadow right next to us to play ball or run or do whatever. Two years ago when we were here we actually had elk for breakfast! Whoa, don’t freak out Paul/ Darlene/ Rosemary/ anybody else… I mean they were our guests for breakfast, the whole herd of them hanging out in our campsites every morning for several hours. Today was our first wake-up here and we didn’t see any, but we remain hopeful.

Our campsite:

I just got back from maybe the hardest bike ride of my life, the only time I can remember that I almost barfed… I can barely stand up, so I’m here typing away and stirring chili for dinner while everyone else is on a short little hike to The Five Lakes. Check out the dude-sweet pics from my ride, including the black bear and the fantastic bit above and along the Athabasca River:

Note to you: All the other pics are going to be in one handy slideshow that covers the past few days. Quite simply, I’m just too lazy to split them up.

Last night we had Dad’s birthday dinner at Evil Dave’s, a one-of-a-kind restaurant here in Jasper that has a wonderfully evil theme. Since my fate has long since been decided I especially enjoyed this meal, but I want Gabe and Kieran’s Catholic school teachers to know that I had them do a Hail Mary in between every bite. The meal really was fantastic and quite delicious, decadent almost, but I suppose that’s to be expected when You-Know-Who is in the kitchen working up recipes for the mortals. Everything on the menu had names like “Evil Diva” (Mom ordered that, of course), and “Evil Genius” (yours truly). But our favorite name was the vegan dish known as a “Vicious Hippie”.

Driving from Banff to Jasper means driving the Icefields Parkway. This is, of course, an incredibly frightening thing to do while towing a five-ton trailer with a two-ton vehicle. But it is also exhilarating. When you visit the American Rockies, they are absolutely spectacular. But the Canadian Rockies are possibly even more spectacular in appearance and they go on forever. Every time you come around a bend a new line of ridges or mountains presents itself for your amazement. And yet there are some parts that are so straight that even the driver is able to enjoy it.

I’m sure we did something fantastically exciting on July 17, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what it was. I think I went on a bike ride and we probably hiked someplace and then I think there was some shopping or something.

July 16 was a great festive day for us in Banff… we hiked Johnston Canyon, and it doesn’t have a trail so much as a 1.5-mile catwalk above the river. Good fun with Izzie. But the views of the river and waterfalls were extraordinary. After our hike we drove to Lake Louise, a spectacular place with a resort built on it. I read somewhere last week that sunrise at Lake Louise has been called one of the ten wonders of the natural world. It was pretty amazing, packed with tourists, at four in the afternoon. On our way out of town, sitting in traffic, right on the main drag, a grizzly bear crawled up the embankment ten feet from our car. It was an amazing sight (to see while in a car), and all of the other travelers there were amazed and getting out cameras. That is until some jackass didn’t like sitting there for six whole seconds watching some stupid bear while his meatloaf got cold, honked his horn, and scared it off before anybody could really appreciate it or get much of a decent shot.

That evening was a real highlight, as Mom stayed with Kieran and Izzie while everybody else enjoyed our nearly-annual tradition of watching the new Harry Potter movie. The best part was (kids, stop reading here and leave the room until a grown-up says you can come back) when they’re all at the pompous professor’s little gathering for his favorite pet students, and there’s this really gross guy, and Harry somehow ends of holding this platter of the absolutely worst-tasting hors-d’oevres, and of course this guy takes one, eats it, wretches, and says “What is that???” Harry’s unexpected deadpan response? “Dragon Balls.” So Liz and I, being the immature cretins we are, simultaneously issue forth two of those side-splitting, milk-through-the-nose, raspberries-with-the-lips, 100 decibel guffaws. And everybody else, ever single freaking person in the entire freaking theater, was absolutely silent. Awk-ward.

Coolest thing we saw in Banff (according to me, other opinions may vary) was a double rainbow that went deep into the valley below us. It seemed to go on forever, and we could actually see the end of it down in the trees, and it had absolutely the most brilliant colors we’ve ever seen In Rainbows. I’ll put that picture right here for your cute little eyeballs.



Less than 24 hours after crossing into Canada, Liz flew Grandma home and then returned to us. Three border crossings in less than 48 hours. While I went and picked Liz up at the airport, Mom and Dad took the young’ns to the Calgary Zoo, where they saw The Fattest Prairie Dogs On Earth. Liz would like to place an addendum here, detailing her adventures in travel while escorting Grandma home:

I don’t much care for flying. Neither does Grandma. We tried to be troopers
though at times it was not easy. Customs went fine for grandma and I, although
watching the security officer use a wand to assure that grandma was not a threat
to national security could only be described as ludicrous. Our flight was 30
minutes late landing – it was a mad rush to make our connection three terminals
away. Luckily, the gate was the closest to the bridge between terminals and left
us time to grab iced coffee and scones for 2. Darlene picked us up in Rochester
at the airport.

Hugs all around and then off for a midnight Friendly’s
feeding with Sarah. Sarah dropped me back off at the airport, and a lovely
middle of the night conversation was had with Omeri – I was assured it was the
perfect time to have called. I spent the rest of the evening mostly creeped out
by the escalator noises and reading books to stay awake. Much sleep deprived, I
fell soundly asleep on the floor of the terminal in St. Paul. I woke up just as
the flight was called for loading to Calgary.

When we arrived I was a
little nervous about my chances at Customs. The fact that I had crossed the
border three times in three days was, I admit, a little strange. It did not help
that the customs agent above Glacier National Park not stamping my passport to
prove that I had gained permission to enter Canada and that my family had come
with us added some question marks to my story. I was selected for “additional
screening”.

It is times like that I thank my guardian angels for sending
me an avid RVer for a Customs agent who has family up in Jasper. He was kind and
talkative while checking out the details of my story. I made it. Isabella ran up
and said, “I knew you could do it”. It’s funny – there were times I thought I
wasn’t going to make it. In a 24-hour period, I had three hours of sleep. Not a
bad price to pay for Grandma to come along! (Again, major props to Jessica for
her competence with sleep deprivation with the twins)

It’s probably going to be a few days before we post again. It’s so incredibly remote out here it’s like we’re in 2003 or something. If it were any more rustic or primitive, we’d probably have to turn the coffeemaker on by hand, instead of programming the time we’d like our morning joe. We can’t even follow the stock market on-line. Yup, sure is bad being out here away from the daily news cycle.

So until then, stay safe, keep out of trouble, keep your campsite clean, and tell somebody at home you love ‘em.

Photos: