makeshiftmind

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.