Stories and pictures about our travels, our photography and the outdoors.
The boathouse at Lake Louise
This is the land of the canoe. I don’t know why but kayaks are apparently second class boats here. Every resort appears to have canoes. Nobody rents kayaks. And people rent canoes. People rent canoes at 0600. Not unusual except they aren’t fishing and the sun didn’t rise until 0645. Weird.
You would think on a camping trip you would get away from trains. Most National Parks in the US are not exactly on the mainline. Canada is different, and its not just hockey, weird football, and the whole French vs English thing. Some of their biggest, most beautiful national parks lie astride main east/west rail lines. We camped near Wells Gray park – heard trains. We camped near Revelstoke - heard trains. Camped at Jasper – heard trains. Camped at Kootnay - heard trains. But the ultimate experience is camping at Lake Louise. The campground is so close to the mainline Canadian Pacific track a Canadian Football quarterback could hit a locomotive with a pass from inside the campground. Our site was less than 150 metres (that’s about 164 yards for you Yankees) off the track. The first night we had 6 trains go by between dark and the time we finally collapsed into oblivion. They were so frequent and so long (average freight train over 110 cars) that I found myself becoming almost lulled by them like the ancient Greeks and the Sirens. Thrumm-Thrumm-Thrumm-Whoo-whoo-screee-thrumm-scree-thrum-thrumm-screeee-thrum-screee-whoo-woo-whoooooo-thruumm-screech-thrum-thrum. Yep. Best Canadian idea ever – put your campground full of foreign tourists right next to the loudest engineering accomplishment in the country so they can fully appreciate the accomplishment. But I have to admit (along with a whole bunch of German tourists) the 280-degree tunnels are really cool. And they aren’t next to the campground, although it would have been quieter.
Train crosses the Big Hill through one of two 280 degree tunnels on the Canadian Pacific railroad
So we have made some new Canadian friends along the way. You might know them. Be sure to scroll down to see all three.
Gray Jay
Pika
Can you guess?
Have you ever seen a blue osprey? I know the bird field guides do not show them – but I saw one the other evening as we watched the sun fade behind Mt. Victoria on the backside of Lake Louise. The turquoise water of the lake reflected up onto the white under-parts of the soaring osprey, turning him the bluest aquamarine hue imaginable. I wish I could have gotten a photograph, but instead, knowing there was insufficient time to put on a telephoto lens and set up the tripod in the diminishing light, I simply watched as he soared by. So, instead of a photo of the bird, we have attached a photo of one of the many blue lakes at Banff National Park, Moraine Lake. Who knows, maybe next time I‘ll get the elusive blue osprey as well…
Moraine Lake on a cloudy morning.
You may have heard about our frequent evening “planning” meetings as we travel. Since we rarely have a set itinerary we need to make decisions so we know which way to turn out of the campground in the morning.
A planning team meeting.
Yesterday, our carefully laid plans were torn asunder, not once, not twice, not three times, but many times over. Our first and second trail hikes to a mountain lake and waterfall were both abruptly terminated by an annual biking event between Banff and Lake Louise that blocked our access to the trailheads. Being “flexible”, we proceeded to stop #3 where we were turned back by a closure due to the road being washed out from all of the flooding this past spring. Undaunted, we decided on a new hike, which turned out to be behind a “grizzly bear closure”. This closure “for the protection of both people and the bears”, extended to almost all of our potential hiking trails originating from Lake Minnewanka, leaving us with only a shortened 3-kilometer hike (our knowledge of the metric system is improving) along the shoreline, along with the other 3,463,981.6 people (.6 for a pregnant woman you looked to be in her second trimester) who had also re-routed their hikes to the remaining few options. No bear would have stood a chance against that hoard of humanity! Not the wilderness hikes we had envisioned when we set out. But what can you do?
We ended up eating lunch on a sunny rooftop pub in Banff. Beer and local cuisine - a far cry from the beef jerky and gorp we usually eat while hiking. No complaints from this quarter.
Border guards have a reputation; sometimes it’s deserved.
Apparently very minor border crossings in Canada are where that reputation is built and enhanced. There’s no need to go into the details, lets just say two middle–aged, obviously good looking, and harmless Californians do not need to be reamed for getting out of their vehicle when the border personnel don’t show up after a couple of minutes. Maybe we interrupted the morning donut break, I don’t know, but it was the second time (out of two) where crossing into our neighbor to the north was not particularly neighborly. So I had a bad impression of Canadian bureaucrats. That changed this afternoon. We had gone to Glacier National Park (Canada – not Waterton Lakes or the US Glacier – whole different place) and it turned out most of the hiking trails were closed. All of the trails were closed because a sow grizzly and her two cubs had been hanging out with the humans. So we went to the northern part of the park along Highway 1 to look for a place to take a short walk among the magnificent peaks. Got to the trailhead and what do you know? It’s a helispot , eh? Ended up having a nice chat with a very friendly young firefighter named Angus M. We did what firefighters do: we talked about some fires we had seen locally, talked about the weather and if lightning might come soon. After a while Angus’ boss drove up and he had to go back to work. As we were walking back to our truck Angus stopped us and handed me a Parks Canada fire patch. Made my day and rescued my opinion of Canadian bureaucracy. Angus- wherever you be, may you have fun fires, safe flights, and a long healthy career.
Rainier flowers
So, why do we subject ourselves to a barrage of inconveniences and changed routines? The long hikes inducing sore muscles and sweat stained clothes, horseflies, mosquitoes, and no-see-ums constantly buzzing around exposed flesh ignoring the 3 layers of deet we diligently applied, too few showers, missed meals, and erratic sleep.
Spokane lightning
I guess if we had avoided these things we also would not have seen the reflection of the stars around Mt. Rainer at Reflection Lake at midnight, followed a few hours later by the sight of Mt. Rainer, wearing candy-cotton pink at (aptly enough) Sunrise Point at dawn, lasting less than a minute before the full sunlight turned it back to glacier white. The huge thunderstorms that rolled through Spokane, Washington that provided the fodder for lighting photos we have been seeking for years. The grandeur of the unbelievably steep, snow capped mountains that make us feel so small and insignificant. The endless carpet of wildflowers that must grow, flower, seed, and start the cycle over during a few, short snowless months. Hearing the silence of the woods, the crashing of the thunder, and the pitter-patter of rain. I remember now - that’s why we do it.
Sometimes when we go out to take photos I think about the "old" days. (What can I say, I'm an old guy). The old darkroom tools were fun, but the
new tools are more fun. For instance, it is so much easier to adjust
contrast or change from color to black and white, maybe add a tint. These are
all things that could be done in the old days with chemicals and paper. So sometimes you just
have to push the
envelope to see what can be done with a photo or series of photos. This
crossed my mind after going out to Big Lake and the Rat Farm to
hopefully take lightning pictures. Of course, things didn't go as planned. There was almost no lightning and what there was, was not close. And the wind was howling. So getting the pictures we hoped for didn't pan out. But sometimes you get something interesting anyway.
Clouds skirt around the locally infamous "Hat Creek Bubble". Taken from the Rat Farm on Big Lake.
The top picture looks back toward town and shows the Hat Creek Bubble. The Bubble (always capitalized, and usually intoned in a sneering or at least derogatory way) has existed for decades now and is known (this is not a theory but a fact) to deflect lightning and fires away from the Hat Creek Ranger District. The Bubble does collapse occasionally, usually in spiteful fits when least expected. In the top picture you can see the clouds as they part and flow around the Fall River Valley. Not a great photo (no lightning – Thanks Mr. Bubble) but I do like some of the lines leading to the cabin, both on the ground and in the sky. And it just seemed like a good subject for the monochrome approach.
Storm clouds gather downstream of the Hat Creek Bubble.
The middle picture shows the storm clouds coalescing again to the north. Because the camera was looking into the sunset the old cabin would have been black or the sky washed out and too light if I followed the camera’s idea of perfect exposure. With modern tools I am able to blend both parts so the picture looks the way my eyes saw it.
The third photo aimed at the sunset. By this time the wind was blowing really hard and picking up lots of dust off the valley floor. I decided to really play with this photo and make it look less like a photo and more of an impression of the evening. This is an effect that would have been really difficult in the old days of enlargers, masks, and multiple exposures on one sheet of expensive color paper. Will it hang in the National Gallery of Art? Don’t think so. But it was fun to play with. And that’s the point – have some fun especially when the Hat Creek Bubble is firmly in place.
The sunset peeks from behind Mt. Shasta and from under the clouds.
If you are looking for photos from our Alaska Adventure, welcome to Cape Disappointment. We had to cancel the trip just as we were getting started (really, we were close to the real Cape Disappointment at the mouth of the Columbia River when we had to cancel). Family obligations required a return home so we can find new housing for a disabled sibling on short notice. Hope to have new adventures though in a few weeks - just won't be Alaska.
237 years later. They could have done a whole lot worse...(ref. almost any where in the Middle East).
Hope you are well engaged in the pursuit of Happiness this weekend.