#13 Bootless and Bear-less in Banff

Banff Park gate

Full disclosure.  We were to have spent three days in Banff hiking on some favourite trails, but we were more or less grounded by two factors:

About 45 minutes from Guelph, we discovered that we left our hiking boots behind.  Phooey! But we decided not to go back for them.  I would buy a pair of sturdy hiking shoes when I needed them, and Bruce would wear his regular sturdy shoes.  We pushed on.

Then I mysteriously acquired an injured leg as we left Saskatoon.  It may have happened as I hefted my suitcase down the stairs at our B and B.  In any case, I limped around Edmonton, and I wasn't a whole lot better but the time we got to Banff.

Hmmm.  What could we do in Banff and environs if we were required to go by car, or slowly by foot?

Admire the scenery on the other side of the window.

I bet moose hang out here after we drive away.

No wifi, and no TV at Johnston Canyon. 

Enjoy our out-of-the way Johnston Canyon retreat, even though I couldn't walk up to the top of the canyon as I had planned.  This heritage resort which I first visited with my parents in the fifties brought back a lifetime of memories.

Have a drink at Lake Louise and walk down to the end of the lake.  This was a poor substitute for what I really wanted -- to walk to the tea house at the Plain of the Six Glaciers.

Lake Louise from the far end

Hang out in town.  We went into every museum and art gallery and the public library! 

The spirit bear lives near the library and the Whyte Museum

Learn about the history of the park and its animals.  The Whyte Museum of the Canadian Rockies had a particularly interesting display about the wildlife over-and-underpasses that are a feature of the Trans Canada highway.   These structures provide for safe passage across the road, and when cameras are in place, animals' comings and goings can be recorded and counted.  No wonder my "animals observed" notebook was bear-less, with only one sorry entry, a deer.   The crossing data acquired from each over/underpass show that deer and elk really do have the edge.   

One of several wildlife bridges along the highway through the park. 

Visit neighbouring communties.  Like Canmore, for instance.  The town of Canmore, outside the park gates, also attracts plenty of visitors, but it does not seem as touristy as Banff.  It would probably be a great place to retire. Canmore had fabulous scenery, lots of year round activities, and the community feels like a real town. Bonus: Calgary is only one hour down the road.

 The Three Sisters dominate the Canmore skyline.

  

#12: Never Change

Our return to Edmonton was predictably, a bit sentimental.

Checking out exciting new additions to the city skyline is all very well and good, but I am more interested in the familiar, so as we to-and-fro across

"Butterdome" sports complex -- my running track in 1984

town on various errands, I am happy to be reminded of favourite old haunts.  I've always loved driving on the Groat Road, a twisting freeway through a canyon into the river valley, and on this visit we experience that thrill several times.  Ditto the U of A campus which we seem to pass frequently.  It is still dominated by buildings we recognize (including the strange looking "Butterdome"), although change is in the air with  creeping development about to colonize an entire nearby residential street.   Out by the university farm we pass Michener Park with its married-student residences, and are gratified to see that Vanier House still looks as cool as it did in 1969 when we were among the first occupants. (I wonder if those big windows still leak and if you can still hear what is going on in your neighbour's bedroom.)

A stock photo of Vanier house

But we are not really in search of iconic roads or buildings. We wouldn't be crossing town this way at all except that we are meeting up with friends.  It is the people that bring us back to Edmonton, and in five days, we manage to connect with everyone we want to see. Over dinner, lunch or coffee, we play catch-up.  How are you doing? How are the kids?  What about the rest of the family?  What we wanted to hear/what they wanted to hear was Good, Good, Good. But we range from  68 to 75 years, so the indignities of aging are not unexpected.   In truth, there have been health challenges, but these have been weathered.  People seem to be coping, thankful for life's gifts, and even as mortality nibbles at our knees (and other bits), new developments bring joy.  The birth of grandchildren.  Three sets of children, including partners and grand kids, moving back to Edmonton.  (I am so pleased for my friends, but a bit envious.  None of my kids will be returning to Guelph.) 

Marilyn (a friend since grade 7) and Gil (whom Bruce knew in high school).  Surely, we aren't pushing 70?

Collectively, we note with pleasure that many things have not changed.  We may not look the same, but we look like ourselves.  (Quite honestly, I'd say we look great!) We make the same jokes.  We still have the same interests.  Miraculously, none of our friends has moved, and I am delighted to visit homes and gardens I know well and to see that there have been no decorating makeovers  (though perhaps pictures and nicknacks come out of hiding when I am coming to visit because friends recognize that I don't like change.) 

I have the sense of my own life shifting a wee bit as I head toward my 70's so an illusion of stability gives me great comfort.   But perhaps it is not an illusion.  The essence of who we are/what we are-- that really is constant. These old friends have always been gracious, interesting, funny and kind, and regardless of what else happens, that will stay the same.

Until we return (and because we are retired, we'll do it soon), I'll hold that thought.    

#11: Alberta Bound

The drive from Saskatoon to Edmonton is only five hours, and the route is one we should know well.  This is home turf, and we check off familiar locations:  Lloydminster, Vegreville, Elk Island Park.  We are almost there.  Then, in a downpour on the outskirts of town, we miss the turn-off that would eventually get us to my sister-in-law Betty's house.  Cue Samantha, our stern GPS nanny, who leads us on a meandering path through parts of the city we vaguely remember.

I am fascinated to return to a place that is so much a part of my history.  The outline is still there, but the details have changed, and Bruce and I exclaim over the differences (Wow, look at that huge new housing development!) as we unquestioningly follow orders to Turn right on Whitemud Drive!  (We do not always slavishly obey Samantha, but this time we recognized that she seemed to know her way quite well.)

Toni's American Bungalow style wooden house. 

Yet, in spite of the changes, and the fact that we have not lived there since 1971 (except for a sabbatical year in 1984), Edmonton still feels like home.  It has to do with the familiar clear, dry air, the distinctive domestic architecture that depends almost entirely on wood and stucco, and a northern landscape dominated by fir, pine and poplar. I especially love the North Saskatchewan River valley, and all its various bridges   No doubt about it -- Edmonton is a pretty city.

Love that river valley!

But we weren't here for the scenery, or even to visit the West Edmonton Mall, still a major tourist destination after more that 25 years.   We were there for the people: Bruce's sisters, his cousin and aunt, and some dear friends who have known us all our adult lives.  We stayed with both sisters in turn-- first Betty, then Toni-- and we made forays across town to visit everyone else.

 With Betty and Toni, we explored some of the "new" Edmonton.  First, Betty and her husband Don took us to Churchill Square, a downtown gathering spot flanked by buildings of civic importance -- the library, city hall and the Art Gallery of Alberta.  Betty pointed out the nearby water feature which recently caught the fancy of Toronto mayor Rob Ford. (I wonder if Dundas Square will be getting one of these soon?)

Churchill Square is more elegant than I remember!

A few days later, Toni, Bruce and I went to the  Royal Alberta Museum, a natural history museum which makes great use of an extensive specimen collections in quite magnificent dioramas that depict provincial flora and fauna.  No dinosaurs lurk among the exhibits  (The Royal Tyrrell Museum in Drumheller is dinosaur central), but for bears, moose, mountain goats, wolves, coyotes and every other creature you might hope to encounter as you explore Alberta, the RAM is the place to go.     

On the roof of the Art Gallery of Alberta

The Royal Alberta Museum building would be nothing without the landscaping!

   

Everyone has their picture taken with Mr. Lunch Bucket

#10: Long Gone to Saskatchewan

There's potash under there.  Take my word for it.

The sound track as we were driving into Saskatoon, was Corb Lund's Long Gone to Saskatchewan. 

Considering that we were jockeying through more traffic that we have previously experienced in Saskatoon, this was perfect -- a song about a guy who comes to Saskatchwan looking for opportunities he can't find back in Alberta.  The trucks on Circle Drive told us that he - and a lot of others - had come to the right place.

It's all about potash.  It turns out that this province, formerly known just for big fields of wheat and canola, is solidly potash a couple of thousand feet down. Fertilizer producers the world over the world need this stuff. and suddenly Saskatchwan is giving new meaning to the expression "resource based".



Patick looks like a SaskEnergy angel in his reflective suit.

There are other resources, too, as we discovered when we went to Patrick's workplace, a natural gas sequestering site at Asquith, just outside the city.  Patrick, a millwright, maintains the huge engine that compresses the gas which is stored underground in cavities washed out of potash deposits.  (Potash again.  It's everywhere.) 

Our Asquith lunch at The Vault, a Vietnamese restaurant in an old rural bank, was memorable too.  The place was packed.  I noted a group of older ladies celebrating a birthday,  a road crew in vivid orange safety vests,  and a table of suitably attired cowboys.  Still wearing their big black stetsons, they dug appreciatively into bowls of noodles, barbequed meat and fish sauce.  Then they headed out to their horse trailers. I just could imagine Corb Lund on their truck radios as they pulled onto the highway.

#9: S'toon Stop

Who holidays in Saskatoon?

We got asked this question a lot when we were planning our trip.

Ninth Street Band B--such a pretty garden!

I've thought it over, and I have decided those most likely to visit the Paris of the Prairies for holiday fun are folks from neighbouring communities.  In fact our fellow guests at the 9th Street Bed and Breakfast were all from small towns in Saskatchewan and Alberta. They were in S'toon to shop on Broadway, go to the art gallery (aka The Mendel), walk along the picturesque South Saskatchewan River, and eat in some truly fabulous ethnic restaurants.  Prairie people know that Saskatoon has a lot to offer.    Other travellers who find themselves in 'Toon town by accident have no idea this town of 220,000 has so much going for it.

The river valley is a great place to check out all the pretty bridges!

And we did all those things, too.  But we belong to the another category of visitor -- former Prairie residents who just happen to have a daughter living in a tiny adorable bungalow near Caswell Hill.  So our primary reason to visit was personal.  There were lots of hugs and many shared meals.  I also did some gardening, and Bruce put together one of those flat-pack drawer systems with a hundred little screws that do not quite line up. (This was a labour of paternal love that took the entire afternoon  and cost the workman a blister.  That Jenny's partner Patrick assembled the wardrobe part of this unit in a couple of hours after a full day's work impressed us no end.)

I am always delighted to check out the action at Jenny's place of work,  the Children's Department at the Saskatoon Public Library. This time we were able to observe first hand the transformation of the Winnie the Pooh mural (circa 1973), into more contemporary wall art.  Those who miss the old Pooh and Eeyore will love this new version!

Pooh gets a more Canadian setting thanks to Jim's artistry

#8: Breakdown

Bruce and I are merrily rolling along, but the blog is breaking down for lack of computer time!  It's hard to visit friends and find time to upload pictures and tell about them.  But we'll see what the next few days bring.....

#7: Back to the Woods

Our friends-and-family road trip conveniently took us to Dauphin, Manitoba, the home of my old friend Sandra and her husband Al.  (Sandy and I go back to grade five at Capital Hill School in Calgary, Alberta, so we are "old"  friends in every sense of the word.)

Dauphin is a lovely spot -- a community of about 8,000, just far enough away from larger cities (2 hours from Brandon, 4 hours from Winnipeg) so that its numerous amenities (a theatre, recreation complex, college campus and shopping centre) make it seem like a much larger town.  It also has a unique personality inspired by its past and the pioneers who settled this area.  Most especially, Ukrainian roots are honoured in an annual mid-summer celebration: Canada's National Ukrainian Festival.  (Even if you miss this event, as we did, you can still sample the cuisine with passable pyrogies from  the local Scottish bakery.)

Doll-sized cottages 

This part of Manitoba, known as Parkland, is not at all prairie-like.  In fact, it feels as if Mother Nature had a bit of  Northern Ontario left over and planted it -- lakes, trees and all -- exactly where the good folks of Dauphin could enjoy the benefits.  Dauphin streets are lined with beautiful, large trees that one simply does not see in prairie towns.

Those who want more of the same, along with unlimited recreational opportunities, need only drive an hour from Dauphin to Canada's second oldest national park, Riding Mountain.  Most Canadians know very little about this tourist gem which has everything a national park requires -- trees, wild animals, a charming village, lots of tiny cottages, a sandy beach and a lake, complete with tour boat.  Here is all the charm of Banff and Jasper ( our really big national parks) without the huge mountains and the huge size.  It is a little bit of wilderness heaven.

An afternoon boat cruise at Riding Mountain

On the water, the sky is still impressive.

#6: Out of the Woods

Although I am now in Vancouver (I've not had a lot of access to the internet for the past few days), my blog-brain is still driving out of Ontario into the province of Manitoba.

 I suppose that is why I was so attuned the other evening to the phrase, "four days to get out of Ontario", spoken at the table next to ours at a restaurant in Banff.  An older couple were having an animated conversation with their server, and once again, I was luckily within earshot!

These two were apparently from Brockville, east of Guelph, so it would, indeed, have taken them a little longer to reach the Manitoba border.  "But" enthused the woman, "even though the forest is endless, the drive was fascinating!"  Good for her, I thought. A fellow rock-n-tree enthusiast!

"And", her husband continued, "who says the prairies are boring and there is nothing to see?"  That is so wrong! I almost put a crick in my neck I was so busy looking at that huge sky!" He swiveled his head from side to side to make his point.

At that point, I put my head down and pretended to eat my dinner so he wouldn't see my smile of absolute agreement.  Surely the prairies are Canada's most under-appreciated landscape!

Manitoba sky from the window of the Mazda

For me, the sudden magical transport from rocky landscape to flat prairie never ceases to delight.  In one hour, the Trans Canada Highway descends from forested highlands onto broad, grassy plains and there it is before you -- green and gold fields,  glinting marshes fringed with wildflowers, a few scrubby bushes, and above all, the vast changing sky that stretches from one horizon to the other.

The province of Saskatchewan recognizes, with its provincial motto Land of Living Skies that on the prairies,  landscape = sky.   Depending on the time of day or the weather, you never can tell what you will experience; we could very well have headed out over the Manitoba plains into a magnificanet sunset or a thunder storm.  (The storm would have been fine with me. There is nothing more iconic than billowing black clouds over a golden field where a phalanx of harvesters are attempting to outrun the encrouching onslaught.)

From the front seat of our little Mazda, however, we rejoiced in perfect, puffy clouds in a vast noon-time expanse of blue.  I, too, almost put a crick in my neck.  I am a prairie girl at heart and that big sky always says, "Welcome home".