makeshiftmind

I found a very powerful quote today on a blog that I just happened to stumble across through an unrelated Google search.  I’m unfamiliar with the author, though a quick Wikipedia search revealed that Charles Bukowski was an American poet who wrote about “…the ordinary lives of poor Americans, the act of writing, alcohol, relationships with women, and the drudgery of work.”  He writes:

“What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don’t live up until their death. They don’t honor their own lives, they piss on their lives. They shit them away. Dumb fuckers. They concentrate too much on fucking, movies, money, family, fucking. Their minds are full of cotton. They swallow God without thinking, they swallow country without thinking. Soon they forget how to think, they let others think for them. Their brains are stuffed with cotton. They look ugly, they talk ugly, they walk ugly. Play them the great music of the centuries and they can’t hear it. Most people’s deaths are a sham. There’s nothing left to die.”

This is, perhaps, the 20th century Socratic observation that the unexamined life is not worth living.  It is a reminder that the historical impact of our endeavors and social impact of our relationships are the only sources of immortality we will ever have.  And every day we get new chances to make the most of them.

EDIT: For clarity and more to the point, this quote is really about not filling our lives with the meaningless, so that when we do die something of value is actually left behind.  Not simply the mundane.

I did a little catch-up on Google Reader today.  Here are some random thoughts it provoked.

1. If swine flu is such an epidemic, why aren’t we banning pigs and burning their bodies in the streets?
2. If it will be illegal to not have health insurance, we should all immediately quit paying for it and see how the government likes them apples.  Insurance is big business.  Perhaps the lack of revenue will make them re-think this Fascist plan.
3. This man is my hero, and in the famous (paraphrased) words of some Cracked.com writer, he will need a second casket for his balls when he dies.

It’s 10 PM on our last day in Banff.  We did a lot today — not big things, but a handful of smaller, relaxing activities that have rounded out our vacation quite well.

Brittany wanted to see the sunrise this morning, so she got up early and took her camera to Lake Minnewaka, just inside of Banff National Park.  While she waited, she saw two Elk grazing in the meadow, and was able to take several pictures of the majestic beasts before they slowly walked away.  A bald eagle also made an appearance, but she was only able to take a snapshot as it flew away, since it evaded her with superior aerial acrobatics.  Although the sky was overcast, Brittany managed to capture the nearby mountains in the morning stillness.

When she returned, we packed up for the day and headed to the town of Banff.  We walked the main town strip, popping into various stores and sampling various wares.  We stopped by a local coffee shop (of course) for a morning pickup, and photographed the interesting townsfolk and visitors in the streets.  We ran into one couple that even had a Whippet (in Canada, right).  We struck up a quick conversation and they told us that just that morning, their little puppy had chased an Elk across a field.  Apparently she thought it was a giant squirrel.  For lunch we ate local fare at Rose and Crown Pub and Restaurant.  The waitress convinced us to dip into pints of Alexander Keith’s, since, unbeknownst to us, it was Mr. Keith’s birthday.  The beer was cold and refreshing — probably my favorite Canadian beer so far.  I ordered the smoked Reuben with curry and coconut soup, and Brittany, the Albertan Beef Dip sandwich and fries.  We shared the soup (which was actually amazing) and devoured our sandwiches (which were pretty much epic) and were quite happy with our day thus far.

We decided to drive around for a while, and went on a short hike to one of the lesser local attractions, the remains of a small mining town called Lower Bankhead.  We took a few pictures, then drove back into town for some afternoon coffee (at the fine establishment, Second Cup).  Brittany ordered a frothy dark chocolate latte, I ordered a bold coffee, and we sat and watched people go about their business for a little while.

When we were finished we drove up to Upper Hot Springs, a large public pool fed by natural hotsprings that overlooks Mount Rundle.  We soaked in the pool for 30-45 minutes, letting our achy muscles relax, then sitting on the side of the pool in icy mountain air until we had to slide back in for warmth.  It was like being in a giant outdoor sauna — so calm and relaxing.

On our way back through the town, we parked the car at a public lot near Banff Central Park, and walked the trails for a bit while the sun set.  We took some very nice pictures and watched as people walked their dogs, played Frisbee, or just sat on a bench and held each other.  It was a nice way to end the day.

You can see our pictures in the Banffventure 2009 Day 7 web album!

Yesterday was a long day.  We set out early in the morning, slowly making our way north to Jasper National Park, with stopovers in Kootenay and Yoho, and some scenic driving via the glacier fields along the Icelands Parkway.  We decided to bypass construction on highway 1 heading north, and veered off to the parallel two-lane highway 1A, which has a much slower speed limit, many more treacherous curves, and a far better view of the mountainside.  At one point we noticed a small car pulled off to the side of the road, so we slowed to see if there was any wildlife present, and we were rewarded with the sight of two black wolves weaving their way through the trees beside the road.  Unfortunately, by the time we brandished the camera, they were obscured by the thick undergrowth and we were unable to photograph them.

Our journey into Kootenay began with a series of forests, all burnt to the ground in prescribed forest fires that the park maintainers use to eliminate hordes of insects that destroy forests by eating trees from the inside out.  By burning large sections of trees, the remaining forest is saved from insect infestation, and new migration paths are opened to indigenous wildlife.

The Paint Pots were our first destination.  Mined in the late 1800s for the colored clay they produce, the paint pots are iron-rich natural springs that bubble up through the earth.  The minerals in the water seep into the surrounding land and create large ochre fields which are mostly barren, soggy, and a deep orange hue.  The hike to the paint pots was short and mild, but worth the trip to see such an odd phenomenon.  We also saw several small rock piles near a riverbed that we had to cross, which we later learned were special markers called Inukshuk and were originally created by the Inuit people as a navigation guide or marker for a food cache.  Hikers often use them for the same purposes.

After we left Kootenay, we pushed our little Mazda up and up and up, all the way across the Continental Divide, then down and down and down into Yoho National Park.  The warning signs along the road came in many varieties: “Winter Tires or Chains Required Beyond This Point”, “Warning: Avalanche Country”, and “Break Inspections Ahead” were some of my favorites.  Traffic was very light, and at one particularly sharp bend, we saw a coyote making his way across the highway.  The drive through Yoho was incredible — the highway ran through a large valley, surrounded on all sides by enormous mountains.  We wound our way up to the Bow and Kicking Horse River junction, where the two mighty rivers converged in a torrent of blue frothing mountain water, gushing over boulders below us.  Across the canyon were the Spiral Tunnels — caves cut into the mountain side to allow trains to traverse the range without steep vertical ascents.  In the mountains, trains are still a significant means of transporting goods because large semi-trucks don’t make the treacherous trip very well.

Our next destination was in Jasper National Park, located past the northern tip of Banff.  The drive to Jasper took us two and a half hours, one way, and the clock had already struck noon so we sped off into the great North as fast as we could (which apparently wasn’t very fast because cars were hauling ass around us in excess of 120 kph).  The drive to Jasper from Banff is rated by National Geographic as one of the world’s most stunning drives in the world.  The mountain range seemed to grow and expand the further north that we went.  We passed by several icy lakes fed by melting mountain glaciers.  We pulled off the road at Hector Lake and stood by the car, mesmerized by the ocean of glass before us.  Further down the highway, we passed by Crowfoot and Bow Glaciers, mammoth beds of ice high atop the mountain range.  The glaciers looked as if they would slip from their lofty positions high above us and slide off the mountains with maddening fury and crush everything below, but in reality they had been receding for some time and we were in no real mortal danger.

Once we arrived in Jasper, we located the trail head for our excursion: the icefields at Wilcox Pass.  We noticed that as we traveled north towards Jasper, the weather had gotten several degrees colder, and the snow that had been previously melting was now accumulating.  But we weren’t about to let that deter us, so we bundled up, threw on our CamelBaks, and started plodding through the snow up a very large mountain.  The trail was rated “moderate” by the trail guide, but the packed snow, near invisible trail, and steep incline proved more challenging than we had anticipated.  We watched our footing carefully, and after some time, we finally breached the treeline high above the trail head.  The view was unbelievable — easily my favorite part of our hiking experience in Canada.  We moved along the side of the mountain with a dizzying drop to our left, and a barren field of pines and brush to our right.  Far below was a valley through which the Icelands Parkway moved traffic further north.  Beyond that was the dazzling Columbia Icefield, a collection of the park’s most impressive glaciers.  From our vantage point we were treated to an earth-shattering view of the Athabasca Glacier, a tsunami of ice cresting the mountain peeks and pouring down into the valley below.  Pictures and words can never do it justice.  I have never seen anything as majestic as Athabasca in all its frozen glory.

It was nearing dusk as we returned to our car, but the drive back to our lodge offered us a view of the now familiar mountain ranges at sunset.  The setting sun cast rays across the frozen peaks, and poked through the treeline as made our way back to Canmore.  We arrived home late, and after a healthy dinner of McDonald’s (we were hungry!), we crashed into bed and slept soundly.

You can see our pictures in the Banffventure 2009 Day 6 web album!

We awoke to snow on our fifth day in Canmore.  Big flakes were falling from the sky, covering everything with a wet, heavy snow.  The temperature hovered around one degree Celsius, just one degree above freezing, so the roads were relatively clear and the accumulation everywhere else was rather light.  We decided to stay near town because the day called for high winds and heavy snow in the afternoon, so we picked a small trail about fifteen kilometers outside of Canmore and set out for the day.  As we carefully drove up the mountainside, we saw a group of cars in the distance pulled off along the side of the road.  That usually means that some kind of wildlife has been spotted, so we pulled over as well and were treated to a herd of mountain goats slowly grazing their way across a steep incline.  We snapped some photos, took in the scenery, and were on our way.

The trail was Grotto Canyon, and according to the guide, was located near the mouth of Grotto Lake, a medium sized body of water with rather unremarkable features.  Because the weather was so wet and cold, we both wore more layers than normal.  I felt like Stay Puft, but even in the driving snow I was comfortable and warm.  One very interesting thing about the Grotto Canyon trail is that, well, there really is no trail.  A small sign at the entrance to the trail head indicates which way to go, and from that point hikers over the years have forged a variety of trails through the deep woods that followed the canyon’s edge up the mountain.  We met a few other hikers along the way who had no idea where they were going, but we all figured that “up” was generally a good direction, and as long as we could see the canyon we could always find our way back.

The guide rated Grotto Canyon trail as “easy”, which was accurate for the first five hundred meters or so.  After that the well-worn trails began to disappear, and we found ourselves moving along the canyon floor, climbing over large slippery rocks, occasionally finding steep dirt paths in the brush that lead over insurmountable canyon obstructions.  The climb, in other words, was anything but easy, and the driving snow did not help.  It was entirely worth the effort, however.  At various points along the canyon, the trees would part and we would be treated to panoramic views of snowy peaks and the expansive alpine forest.  Our descent was quite a bit more challenging than our climb up the canyon.  The dirt paths were loose with small rocks, and the large canyon boulders were wet and slippery.  I took a slight spill as we navigated down the canyon bed, and managed to bang up my knee and my hand a bit, but it was nothing serious — I was pretty lucky.

When we returned to our car, we decided to walk around the lake for a bit, but it was pretty bland so we headed back into town.  We were both very hungry, so we pulled out our map and drove around looking for the Grizzly Paw Pub, a local restaurant and outlet for the Canmore Grizzly Paw Brewery.  We felt a little out of place in our hiking gear because nearly everyone in the restaurant was part of a large wedding party, but we were hungry and wanted beer, so we really didn’t care.  We ordered a Grizzly Wings appetizer dowsed in “Grumpy Bear Hot Sauce” and the beer sampler, and spent the next hour or so warming our feet and relaxing.  Brittany favored the Big Head Nut Brown beer, while I was partial to the Powdered Hound Pilsner.

We spent the remainder of the day back at our lodge — we had laundry to do and wet coats, gloves, hats and boots to dry out.  We watched some TV, read some books, and turned into bed early to get a head start on day six.

You can see our pictures in the Banffventure 2009 Day 5 web album.

I woke up hurting this morning.  All this hiking is making me stiff, sore and tired.  But there is so much to do, and so many places to go, we don’t let silly little things like bodily pain stop us!

Today’s agenda began with a trip into Canmore, to a sled dog training facility called Snowy Owl Sled Dog Tours.  Located a mere five or so minutes from our hotel, we decided it would be a perfect way to start the day slowly.  We arrived at their offices around 11:00, and were shuttled to a nearby rock quarry (!?) nestled at the base of a local mountain, where the Snowy Owl dog kennels are located.  Our guide, Jereme, has been in the family-owned business all of his life.  Together with his mother and sister, they own, operate, and care for 174 large huskies representing five distinct breeds (Inuit Husky, Alaskan Malamute, Canadian Indian Husky, Siberian Husky, and Alaskan Husky), all raised and trained to endure the harsh conditions of bitter winters.

Brittany and I had opted to pay a little extra for a special addition to the normal kennel tour — a sled dog ride through nearby mountain forest trails.  In the summer (they still consider October to be “summer” apparently, silly Canadians) there is no snow on the ground, so sleds are unusable.  Instead, the dogs are trained by pulling a 1,500 pound all-terrain vehicle with four passengers.  We were astonished that our pack of nine sled dogs could pull the cart on flat ground without aid.  When we encountered a steep hill, the driver would nudge the gas peddle to aid the dogs.  The ride lasted for roughly thirty minutes.  Several of the dogs had sustained leg injuries over the winter, and were being reconditioned to run, so we had to make a few pits-tops to straighten the team.  In general, however, we were both highly impressed at the coordination, strength, and attentiveness that each dog paid to the driver.

The kennel tour began when we returned to the kennel.  We were introduced to the female dogs first, and then to the male dogs (they are segregated for obvious reasons).  Jereme knew the name, location, diet, and health condition of each and every dog under his care, and stated that one of the acceptance criteria for anyone who worked for him was the same level of precision.  Jereme loved his dogs, and it was very obvious.  He told us that his kennel didn’t breed the fastest or strongest dogs in the world, but they were loyal, loving, and bundles of energetic fun.  With a few exceptions, he allowed us all to pet, hug, and get sloppy kisses from any dog we cared to meet.  And believe me, 174 excited mountain dogs were more than happy to receive attention.  Jereme’s affection for his dogs extended all the way to their names — a few were named after video games (e.g., “Ninja” and “Gaiden”, who were both brothers, and “Halo”), some were named after TV/movie characters (“Optimus”, “Megatron”), literary characters (“Jekyll” and “Hyde”, who were both rescues), and historic figures (“Wyatt Earp” and “Wild Bill”).

The pride and glory of the kennel, however, was Tok Shaman (pronounced toke shay-man), a nearly pure-bred wolf (98%).  He was a massive animal, and Jereme had strict rules for how guests interacted with him.  His face was wild and beautiful, with eyes that looked simultaneously lazy and deathly.  We each took turns giving him attention, careful not to appear aggressive or intimidating (no one wanted a fight!).  When we were finished, Jereme told us that it had taken a long time for him to establish his right as pack leader over the wild wolf — that they had fought on numerous occasions for supremacy, but the necessary boundaries were finally established and Tok Shaman came to recognize Jereme’s position.

On our final leg of the kennel, we were introduced to two red huskies that had been bred and raised by the Inuit people in Alaska.  When they were brought the the kennel, they had difficulty adjusting to the “easy life” of regular shelter, food, and human interaction — in the icy north, they fed on carcasses every few days, slept on the open ground, and ran in wild packs.  The dogs were larger than most of the other huskies, and Jereme assured us, quite a bit stronger.  In fact, he said, it would only take three of them to pin a polar bear to the ground in an open fight.

After our visit with the adult sled dogs, Jereme took us to the puppy kennels, where, he insisted, the minions of evil were kept.  The first group of puppies we played with were almost six months old.  They were all sires of one of the adult males, and most of them inherited his creamy white fur coat.  The puppies in the second group were only two months old, but were just as energetic and chaotic as their evil older counterparts.  The coat variety of the younger puppies was quite different — some were black and white, some were brown and black, and others were tri-color.  Many of them had classic penetrating blue eyes.  All of them were obnoxious, cute, and unbelievably energetic — traits that would be tamed, but not totally removed, with time.

We left the puppy kennels and headed over to the main lodge, where Jereme pulled out two authentic dog sleds and demonstrated their use.  The first sled was for “novices” — the sled was a heavier make, with each part bolted securely to the frame.  The second was for professionals and contained no bolted parts at all — instead, each part was securely tied to the frame with flexible straps.  The engineering difference was immediately clear when Jereme demonstrated a high speed turn by twisting the entire frame of the second sled as he leaned in the appropriate direction.  Both sleds had “brakes”, but he insisted they were more for psychological comfort — if the dog team wanted to move the sled, no break would stop them.  In light of that fact, Jereme told us that dog sledders never let go of their sleds — even if they fall and suffer massive trauma — because once the sled is gone, the dogs will not return.

Finally, we saw the large truck that is used to haul the dogs and sledding equipment into the mountains for winter games.  The back of the truck had a number of small compartments that each housed two dogs, so it could effectively travel with a team of twenty dogs plus equipment.  The compartments were quite small, but Jereme said that the dogs didn’t mind — the tight spaces kept them warm next to each other.

Our next destination for the day was Lake Vermilion in Banff.  Vermilion is known for its stunning reflection of the surrounding mountains, as well as the aquatic wildlife.  We drove along, making short stops for photo opportunities and even a little brush hiking.  It was very quiet and serene.  Clouds had rolled over the mountain tops early in the morning, giving everything an eerie hue, almost as if it were dusk.

Next, we drove through Banff to the Bow Valley trail head, donned our gear, and headed down the steep incline to the Bow River below.  The river runs through the spacious valley, at the foot of several large mountains, and is fed by large ice fields high above.  The trail took us through deep and winding woods, occasionally branching and merging for a variety of scenery choices.  After some time, the trail route moved us along a dead branch of the river — a hollow, empty bed of worn rocks and sand.  We saw very few people, and the light drizzle through the trees was quite calming.  Eventually the trail rejoined the Bow River, however, and we were treated to beautiful tumbling rapids.  When we returned to the trail head, we decided to move along the edge of the road for a more scenic view of the valley.  Across the canyon, a large and prestigious chateau adorned the treeline, while the Bow Valley Falls roared below us.  It was amazing.

Cold, wet and sore, our next stop was Evelyn’s  Cafe in Banff.  We ordered coffee and a large chocolate yogurt cookie and relaxed for a half hour before our next excursion.  We were very happy for the dry warmth.  The shop was bustling with people of all nationalities, and we sat listening to conversations that we couldn’t understand.

When we were finished, we walked across the street and boarded a bus for a scenic wildlife excursion conducted by Discover Banff Tours.  Our guide, Joni was French-Canadian, and had been living in the western part of Canada for a little over two years.  He started the tour by introducing himself and giving us a little bit of personal history.  He was a former medical school student who decided, after two years into becoming a doctor, that he wanted to be a mountain guide.  So he left school and moved to the Canadian Rockies, where he now only needs two more years of study to become a certified mountaineer.

Our first tour stop was a lookout point high over the town of Banff, with a majestic view of the town and the mountains around it.  Joni told us that, since the early 90’s, park scientists have been tracking wildlife, trying to optimize the balance between the town and the wild animals surrounding it.  He pulled out several charts and showed us the movements of local wildlife over time, all recorded with GPS tagging.

On our way to the second tour stop, we pulled off to the side of the road where a large elk was rummaging through underbrush, presumably looking for an evening snack.  Everyone in the bus rushed to the windows to take photos and gawk.  When the elk disappeared into the woods, we resumed our trip, and drove to Vermilion Lake (which we had visited earlier in the day).  While we were there, our guide pointed out a large nest that belonged to a resident bald eagle, who unfortunately didn’t make an appearance for our party.  Joni pulled a large elk antler from storage inside the bus and talked to the group about the feeding, maturation, and social habits of one of the park’s most populous species.

From there, we drove to a large man-made reservoir and wound our way up the mountain beside it.  At one corner in the winding road, we saw several mountain goats grazing and generally being lazy.  The guide told us that the goats like to stay near the road in that particular area because the ground contained a high concentration of natural salt, which they love to lick.  A short distance later, the bus passed by a large open field that, according to Joni, was used as a landfill for Banff many years ago.  It had since been reclaimed and wildlife could often be seen moving across it.  We were very lucky — at the edge of the field two male elk were having a tussle over a small patch of land.  Four about ten minutes, we watched in awe as these mammoth animals locked their twelve point racks together and pushed each other around until the larger of the two established dominance.  Interestingly enough, our guide told us that the larger elk would probably not survive the winter because the mating season for elk was near.  During mating season, the strongest elk establish harems of females, which they win through competition with the weaker and younger elk.  The females in the harem will become so  sexually demanding that the male elk will forget to properly feed himself, and as winter approaches he will become a prime target for predators.  But hey, at least he dies happy right?

By the time the tour concluded, the sun had set and it was time to return to our lodgings.  It was definitely one of our busiest days, but every minute was worth it.

You can see our pictures in the Banffventure 2009 Day 4 web album.

I’m drinking hot chocolate right now, fighting exhaustion, trying to stay awake.  It’s only 9:22 PM.  I swear we hiked a gazillion miles today.  My feet and legs are sore, but luckily my hiking boots pulled through and I have no blisters.  Brittany says it’s because I wore tennis shoes up Sulphur Mountain, but whatever.  I just like to believe my boots are that cool.

We got an early start this morning.  I actually felt pretty good, considering yesterday’s ending.  I experienced very little soreness and all signs of altitude sickness had been vanquished.  I still wanted to play it safe, so we decided on a number of less strenuous hikes and set out in the early morning air to seize the day.  It was overcast this morning; cloud cover touching the mountain peaks was a calming sight.  It was also a little chilly, and as we approached our first destination inside Banff park, it only got colder.

We decided to hike around scenic Lake Louise first.  We followed trans-Canada route 1 until arriving at our destination.  The drive took a bit of time, so we decided to eat an early lunch in the car before setting out.  We unpacked our sandwiches and began the consummation, when a large bird landed on the driver side mirror and glared longingly at Brittany’s sandwich.  It was a tad disturbing.  Forget the bears, the birds here are the real danger.

Once we finished our meal, we made the brief journey over to the Lake Louise trail head, nestled conveniently in front of Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise, an inn that is as expensive as it sounds.  Our first glimpse of the mountains overshadowing the glassy turquoise lake was breathtaking.  The giant rock formations stood towering over the lake valley like the Greek gods towering over earth, and in the far distance, the tallest mountain of them all,  was great Zeus looming over the pantheon with his snowy beard drifting into the valley.  The wind was brisk and chilly, and I was worried that we hadn’t dressed warmly enough, but once we started moving our bodies adjusted and the walk was quite pleasant.  We traveled around the lake to the far end where water from snowy peaks fed the lake through a stream snaking down the mountainside.  The path was relatively easy until we reached the far end of the lake, at which point it sported a steeper grade and a light carpet of snow.  The trail is called the Plain of Six Glaciers, and if time had permitted, we would have made it to the end to see them, but we were pressed for time and had to turn around and head back to meet our schedule.

Once we returned to the Chateau we entered the hotel and found a nice little restaurant called Lakeview which, according to Brittany’s diligent research, served an especially mean afternoon tea.  We truddged through the door, dressed about ten castes of society too poor, but figured what the hell, we wanted tea damnit!  Our hostess was most polite, and served us an exquisite sparkling wine for an appetizer, followed by a tower (no, really, check the pictures) of  finger foods that were all either distinctly British or unpronounceable, but we finished them all and were satisfied.  We each received our own personal pot of tea (Brittany ordered the Fairmont Classic and I, the Fairmont Earl Grey), and for an hour we pretended to be upper class and enjoyed our good food and an amazing view of the mountains.

After we left Lake Louise, we headed south to another Banff attraction, Lake Moraine.  We decided to forgo the hiking in lieu of time constraints, but it was every bit as magnificent as Lake Louise.  The mountains were much closer to the entrance, so we craned our necks to see their peaks.  There was a shoreline of dead tree trunks — driftwood that had been washing up from the forest for god knows how long.  A mammoth pile of tumbled rocks were stacked, almost neatly, near the shoreline, and provided amateur rock climbers with a prime target for fun.  It also offered a tremendous view of the lake, which was as turquoise as Louise and bright with sunlight pouring through mountain peaks.

Our next stop was Johnston Canyon, an intimidating path cut through rock by a rumbling river and series of waterfalls.  The trail was divided into two segments: upper falls and lower falls.  We were loosing daylight, and I was worried that we might not make upper falls before dark, but Brittany gave me puppy dog eyes and, well, yeah we hiked both trail segments.  The trek was a very exciting mix of forest pathways and suspended walkways, all overlooking the river below.  There were a series of smaller falls along the way, but the two trail stops for upper and lower falls were far more impressive.  At the lower falls, we entered a small cave the wrapped around close to the water for an excellent photo op.  I could feel the moisture peppering me from the excessive mist.  At the upper falls, we noticed a large rock face with smaller water streams moving down it next to the fall itself.  Both falls were beautiful and very peaceful.

By the time we returned to the car after our hike through Johnston Canyon, it was nearly 6 PM and time to return to the hotel.  We were both tired, hungry, and in serious need of a hot tub.  Luckily for us, our hotel provides the latter service for free!  After scarfing a dinner of burnt pizza (the oven cooks hotter than advertised!), we threw on our swim suits and spent 30 minutes soaking our broken and battered bodies.  And boy, did it feel great!  Now Brittany is in bed, and I am sure to follow in a few minutes.

As a side note, we would both like to give mad props to Holly and Andy, who graciously lent us a pair of CamelBaks.  I cannot express the difference that these hydration packs make in the wild.  You guys are the best!

I’ve uploaded pictures of Banffventure 2009 Day 3 for all to see!

Day two in the mountains. Nobody around for help. I think we may have to resort to cannibalism.

Oh wait, we landed safely in Canada yesterday, right.

This morning’s excursions began at the hotel lobby where we officially signed in and got a nice map of the area.  The clerk gave us directions to Canmore, where we ended up buying a week’s worth of food and other provisions since our luggage wouldn’t arrive until mid-day (thanks United!).  Everything is definitely more expensive in Canada.  I did notice, however, that there are Starbucks coffee shops everywhere.  People here like their coffee I guess.  The grocery was pretty much what you’d expect — self-checkout and everything.  Canmore is a very nice little town with lower-than-necessary speed limits and quaint architecture.  We passed by several people on special roller blades, propelling themselves down the sidewalk with ski poles.  Somewhere there was a sign that said Olympic athletes are in training here.

After we loaded our fridge and prepped our gear, we set out to our first official hiking destination: Banff Cave and Basin.  The drive to the park was magnificent — mountains loomed everywhere.  The day was sunny, and our spirits were bright.  Road signs everywhere insisted that there were large animals afoot, but we didn’t see any on our approach.  Eventually we arrived at the town of Banff, which is like Canmore in quaintness, but an order of magnitude larger.  People were everywhere, as everything was pretty much in walking distance.  Since mountains could be seen from every street corner, you could seriously never leave the town and still feel like you communed with nature.  We followed the signs for several miles until we arrived at the site of Banff Cave and Basin.

Basically, during the late 1800’s, a few people found an underground hotspring in a pretty sweet cave that welled up into a pool in the mountains.  They thought it would be an awesome idea to let people swim in it and charge a little on the side.  Like all tragedies, the government didn’t want people peeing in the pool and nationalized ten square miles around the site, effectively establishing the Canada National Park system and simultaneously violating the rights of the individuals that found the thing.  But I digress.  In 1886 an entrance was burrowed underground so people could access the vaulted cave and observe its beauty, and in 1914 the site was open to the public as a swimming hole.  In the 1980’s, a giant building was established on the site and a mammoth swimming pool was erected, into which steaming water was piped for public enjoyment.  The pool was open until 1994, but the building still stands and contains a nice historic museum, complete with regularly scheduled showings of a poorly acted docudrama on the history of the site.  After we toured the museum, we meandered along the boardwalk and saw a few tiny waterfalls and the naturally occurring pools of sulphur water on the site grounds. (Oh, did I forget to mention it is a sulphur spring?  Yeah, imagine a day at the beach in that.)

Feeling encouraged by our outdoorsmanish experiences, we decided to travel to another big attraction in Banff, Sulphur Mountain.  Now, believe me when I say that the Disney-theme-park-ride-sounding name is entirely misleading.  True, there is a wonderful gondola trip you can take to the top and back down again, but as Brittany pointed out with fiscal shrewdness, the gondola ride is free if you hike the 3.4 miles to the top of the mountain and ride it back down.  That’s right folks, we decided to hike fucking Sulphur Mountain — all 2,148 vertical feet to the top.  We wanted to own that mountain.  The guide rates it as an “intermediate” hike with roughly 28 “switch-backs” up one side. (The path zig-zags in a slightly sloped, horizontal fashion to make it easier to travel.)  I would like to say that I tackled that monster with vigor, but the truth is that much panting, wheezing, and muscle torture later, I seriously reconsidered the wisdom of the trek.  Brittany performed much more admirably than myself, but she encouraged me to keep going and I plodded along, one painstaking step at a time.

The total ascent took us roughly 3.5 hours, which was still under the maximum estimated time for the trail (4 hours).  The hike was quite serene.  We saw a few people here and there, but mostly it was just us, alone with the forest and miles and miles of mountains on all sides.  We didn’t see any large animals, but on a few different rest stops, we were accosted by a large bird and a tiny tree chipmunk who were very much interested in our snacks. (Seriously.  Some guy hiking down the mountain told us to be careful because birds will take stuff straight from your mouth.)  We were a little scared when we heard some distant loud growling sounds — Banff does have a substantial bear population — but we soon realized that the noise was the Gondola ride far overhead and we felt a little silly for our fears, even though we didn’t have a bear bell or bear spray with us — they were both in our luggage (thanks United!).

When we finally reached the top, at 7,334 feet above sea level, the view was really beyond anything I can describe.  And the fact that on the last three “switch-backs” it began to snow ever so lightly made it all the more vivid.  There was definite victory to be had — a fellow hiker (who passed us on the trail, but was still taking in the view) congratulated us.  We could pretty much see forever at the top.  Every little town, every river, every new mountain growing from the valley — my mind could not fathom the distance or the scale.  It was too much beauty to take in.

We finally jumped into a gondola and began our descent.  It felt like a slow moving roller coaster ride, suspended hundreds of feet in the air.  It was slightly disconcerting at first, but the winds were kind and did not toss us about too much.  We were able to look down below and actually see the trail we had taken.  It felt good to know we had mastered it.

We had lunch (actually, more like dinner — it was 4 PM by the time we returned to town) at a nice restaurant called Melissa’s.  Burgers never tasted so good.  We both immediately ordered water (for hydration) and coffee (for warmth), and decided to sample a Canadian beer together.  I can’t remember what it was called, but it was local fare, smooth and dark — a much needed reward to round out our day.

Once we returned to our hotel, we retrieved our delayed luggage at the front desk (thanks United!) and then crashed.  I started feeling a bit sick, and after some online research, I concluded that I have mild altitude sickness.  I should have remembered from my trips to Colorado: go slow up the mountains stupid!  Luckily mild altitude sickness only lasts for about 12 hours, so tomorrow I should feel revitalized.  Although I’m counting on Brittany’s thorough planning to deliver up a somewhat less rigorous experience so I can recover!

Check out our Banffventure 2009 Day 2 web album for the pics.

*Note on the use of the word “sulphur”.  Apparently the “ph” spelling originated in the United Kingdom, and I can only assume that since Canada has many Old World influences, this one was also retained.

We finally made it.  It only took 13.5 hours, but we are now in the Canadian Rockies.  I was so right about the  washing machine being an omen though.  Here is the official list of travel trials and tribulations we endured yesterday:

• Flight in STL was delayed by an hour and a half.  We knew we were going to miss our Denver connection because we only had one hour between flights anyway.  The plane was cramped and the seats were uncomfortable, and the flight, which was supposed to take only two hours went long anyway.  We saw our Denver departure gate as we taxied in after landing.  Sure enough, our plane was gone.
• The nice man at the United desk in Denver was able to get us on a flight at 6:30 PM.  It was 2:30 already, so that meant a dreadful four hour wait.  In the airport.  We grabbed an unnecessarily expensive lunch, but at least the airport had WIFI.  But it sucked, and kept popping up ads and dropping my signal, but oh well.
• Our Denver flight was on-time.  The plane was much more comfortable (B737) and I actually had a free seat next to me so I could semi-stretch out and attempt to sleep (attempt being the operative word).  We DID get to see the sunset over the Colorado Rockies from thousands of feet in the air!  Which was amazing because the cloud cover broke up the sunlight into a ghastly red haze over the city.  All I could think was that Mount Doom was certainly down there in Mordor somewhere.
• Our Canadian pilots must have been badass because they took a two-and-a-half hour trip and condensed it to only two hours.  We had some epic turbulence trying to land in Canada though — my stomach was in my throat most of the time.  It was like a really crazy roller coaster ride… you know, except you could actually see the houses and buildings that would be destroyed when the plane crashed and your life ended.  Luckily we touched down without incident. *whewh!*
• We grabbed our carry ons and were met outside the jet ramp by a lady in a cowboy hat riding a golf cart.  She asked if we wanted a lift to customs, and we were like, hellz yeah!  We got lucky too, because the walk to customs seemed like it was miles long.  By this time it was 9:00 PM Canada time, and we were due to pick up our rental car at 9:30.  We both had to pee like crazy, but when we got to customs we knew that would have to wait.  The lines were long.
• We filled out the customs form — checked “no” on all the questions about bringing guns and knives and instruments of sin (e.g., alcohol and tobacco) into the country.  No, we haven’t been to, or plan to go to, a farm on our visit either.  The man at the customs station was a tattooed brute who had no sense of humor.  Yes, we really do live in St. Louis.  Yes, we really *are* only going to Banff for six days.  Know, we will not steal your maple leaves.
• When we finally got to the luggage claim, we ran over to customer service where (wait for it)… we were informed that our luggage did not make the connecting flight and would be arriving tomorrow… around noon.  It is a very good thing that I picked some clothes in my carry-on, but we have no toiletries and other necessary amenities.  The only silver lining was that they promised to deliver our luggage to our lodge… which, incidentally, is an hour and a half drive from the airport.
• We dashed over to the car rental counter in the exterior garage, where there were like three people working, none of which seemed to be in an especially motivated mood.  We waited in line at the appropriate counter, behind an oriental fellow who was picking up his car and getting his direction finder set up.  We spied bathrooms down the hall and took turns holding down our spot in line while the other did their duty.  I was second to go, and when I came back Brittany had been moved to another line (which had been empty the whole time we were standing there) because our scheduled car rental wasn’t available.  We ended up paying about $15 more, but hell, it was almost 10:00 PM and we were ready to LEAVE.
• The drive to our hotel wasn’t bad… except it was pitch black, and we were negotiating mountain passes at 110 KM/h. (Yes my friends, it’s Canada, they use metric and we have to drive by it!)  After about an hour, we started to see a slightly different shade of black on the horizon.  We guessed that it was probably mountains, but weren’t really sure until the roads started getting topsy-turvey.  I turned on the brights and laid on the metal… we wanted to get to our room, into our bed, as quick as possible.  We were tired, hungry, and cranky… and then noticed that snow was falling ever so slightly.  I slowed down and mozied along for the remainder of the drive.  We finally pulled into our hotel parking lot around 11 PM.  The lobby was closed but we buzzed in at the door–luckily they left a key for us in the lockbox out front.  We found our room, dropped our crap, took a shower and crashed into bed.  It was nearly midnight.

We finally woke up around 8AM this morning.  We threw open the windows and looked outside.  I definitely think it was worth it.  Check out our first photos here!