New Windows; Lewis and Clark; A Crow Fair; Custer, Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse; I Scream! A Deere View; "Sans Cullottes?"

We are now in Montana, on our way toward Frederick, Colorado, where our new coach will be repaired. Parts are on order, and the big job should take a day or two for technicians to remove one of our slides, replace the metal tracks and bearings, check motors and wiring, etc. They will also repair our automatic jacks/leveling system which is on the fritz. We stayed at Malmstrom AFB for several days to find Your Faithful Correspondent a new computer. Commodore 64s are really hard to procure, so I settled for a new Toshiba Satellite laptop with Windows 8, a touch screen operating system. It is really cool, and based on my past history with Windows XP, this new system should take me only 5 or 6 years to figure out.






Speaking of history, one of my favorite subjects in American history was the Lewis and Clark Corps Discovery expedition back in 1804-06. For those who may be unfamiliar with this expedition, a team of 28 Army men (and one unofficial dog, a Newfoundland named Seaman) were tasked by President Thomas Jefferson to explore and map the recently acquired Louisiana Purchase, traveling from present-day Wood River, Illinois, to the Pacific Ocean. They were also to find a usable transcontinental route, study flora, fauna and natives encountered, and return safely. Along the way they picked up five civilians, including Sacagawea, a Shoshone Indian woman and her husband, a French trapper.

 

 

The expedition completed a heroic and grueling journey across the Great Plains and the Rocky Mountains, most of which had never seen the footprints of a white man. We were fortunate to be stopping in Great Falls, Montana, where the Lewis and Clark Historical Trail Interpretive Center is located.  While Suzanne was giving a phone reading in the coach, I spent a couple of hours at this excellent facility on the south bank of the Missouri River where the intrepid explorers had to portage 18 miles around a series of five cataracts (waterfalls). (This display of them hauling a wood canoe up a 75 foot cliff showed what a daunting and exhausting evolution it was, particularly in July sun and heat.)

 

 

 

During their trans-continental trip, Captains Lewis and Clark encountered hundreds of Indians, and managed to maintain polite, friendly relations with them all. (It’s unfortunate that many later travelers weren’t able to maintain that same relationship.) Only one man died on this epic adventure, probably due to a burst appendix. There were many close calls, mostly due to interactions with grizzly bears. On one occasion, Capt. Clark had shot an elk with his muzzle loading rifle and was attacked by a grizzly before he could reload. Barely making it to the river ahead of the bear, he stood in waist-deep water and fended off the bear with a pike in one hand, holding his rifle above the water with the other. (These were Real Men!)

 

 

 

The Interpretive Center had this well-executed display of a Mandan Tribe home; some of the interesting artifacts were the warrior’s shirt (deerskin and dyed porcupine quills);an antler rake and scapula hoe used by women to till plots of corn and squash (the men were  probably out hunting, warrioring, trading lies and "counting coup" stories, and generally goofing off); a small bucket made of bison (buffalo) heartskin; and a beautiful basket made of box elder bark and dyed willow bark, woven in patterns on a willow frame. Sacagawea and the expedition’s interpreter George Droillard were instrumental in keeping in the good graces of the various tribes that Lewis and Clark met along the way, and added immensely to the sparse body of knowledge about these "original Americans". Toussaint Charboneau, French trapper and Sacagawea's husband, added some gastronomic diversity to the expedition’s somewhat limited cuisine, which consisted mostly of SEVEN POUNDS of meat a day, mostly deer, elk and bison. His recipe for boudin blanc, very similar to Cajun boudin, was to take a bison’s intestine (except the last six feet, which was neither safe nor pleasant to eat), then stuff it with a suet of kidney and shoulder meat, tie off the ends, rinse briefly in river water, and then fry in bear grease. Sounds so yummy!

Suzanne and I also got in a nice bike ride along the Missouri River’s River Edge Trail. Mostly paved for road and hybrid bikes, but part mountain bike single track, it runs along the south river ridge, with expansive views of the Missouri River, the several falls and dams, and the prairie stretching to the horizon, probably looking not too different than when Lewis and Clark stood on this spot in 1804. Here is Yours Truly, alongside the two captains and Sacagawea, gazing at the intimidating cataracts that temporarily delayed the Corps of Discovery’s previously rapid progress.

After departing Great Falls on Saturday, we drove through that part of Montana where Chief Joseph’s Nez Perce tribe made history with their 1,200 mile long fighting retreat  and battles with the US Army after being forcibly removed from their ancestral lands in present-day eastern Oregon. His real name was Hinmuuttu-yalalat, or "Thunder Rolling Down the Mountain". He was known as Young Joseph after his father, Tuekakas, converted to Christianity and was baptized Joseph the Elder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We arrived at our campground in Hardin, Montana, to find the campground almost filled with a military travel club caravan; it was also the weekend of the 95^th annual Crow Fair. The Crow Fair is the largest gathering of North American Indians in the country, and includes daily parades, a rodeo, and the largest teepee village in the world, with approximately 15,000 canvas teepees (buffalo skins being much harder to find these days). This event, appropriately (unless you are a Seventh Cavalry veteran), is sited next to the Little Bighorn National Monument, about 15 miles away from our campground. History buffs will recall that Gen. George Custer’s Seventh Cavalry met with one of its less happy moments there in 1876 when Custer decided to take on a much larger force of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians led by Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse.

 

 

All 263 troopers and the flaxen-haired Custer were surrounded and killed by more than a thousand very angry Indians near the Little Bighorn River; the battle is usually remembered as Custer’s Last Stand. (Custer should have learned some negotiating and cultural awareness lessons from Captains Lewis and Clark!) These two paintings show the battle from both the Indians' and Custer's perspective.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unfortunately, we arrived too late in the day for the Crow Fair Rodeo, but we were in plenty of time for the campground’s daily ice cream social. Lest you think this is a trivial matter, you may be surprised to learn that My Lovely Bride has a secret craving for ice cream that is not well-known among her friends. She favors Magnum almond bars, but does not discriminate against other flavors or presentations; my specialty, Cherries Jubilee, is normally also well-received.

In closing, I would like you, Faithful Readers, to know that we do not always reside in campground scenic splendor alongside babbling brooks and with glacier and mountain views. Here is the view tonight, in Hardin, Montana, from our coach's front window. The campground owner also mentioned that this site is particularly good for those guests who like to parade around naked (in their RV's, at least) because there is nothing but a field in front of us. (I won't go any further, to protect the privacy and reputations of the guilty and innocent alike, except to say that "Yes, we do dress for dinner.")

Calgary; Stuck Out in High River; Heading Home

We arrived in Calgary on Monday afternoon. What a difference from Banff! It’s like driving from Estes Park, Colorado, in the middle of Rocky Mountain National Park down to Denver, on the western edge of the Great Plains. And where were the cows and saloons? When I was a kid, I remember reading about the Calgary Stampede. But we couldn’t find a single cow, cowgirl/boy or real saloon. They don’t even wear Stetsons here. And the traffic was terrible (cars, not cows or even sheep)! But we were on a mission to find a computer repair shop, and as Suzanne looked at the choices on her computer screen, Lo! There was one just a mile away. We found a parking spot, and I carried my old, unresponsive Dell into the shop and a nice woman named Terri said they’d do their best, but why was I still carting around a relic that runs XP and not Windows 7, for Heaven’s sake. (I didn’t want to tell her that I am a Luddite who would prefer to use a notebook and No. 2 pencils; they don’t crash, after all...)

As we stepped out the door onto the pavement, My Lovely Bride turned left, away from The Coach. Where was she going? “There’s something down this way I need to check out...” Not two doors down was a small sign for “Self Connection”, a metaphysical shop. I knew then that we weren’t going anywhere very soon. (Maybe I could find a nice outdoor café and have a few cups of coffee, several pastries and read the Sunday New York Times cover to cover.)  She went inside while I walked the puppies, and then a half hour later she stepped outside and said to come on in. Self Connection’s owners, Mike and Marla Finch, have a lovely shop filled with everything that Suzanne could want. She already had a couple of books under her arm. Suzanne was very impressed with the energy of Marla and Mike’s center, which includes a classroom, and they agreed to get together during the next year for a “webinar” or an on-site workshop if we get back to Calgary next summer.  

Mike wanted to introduce me to his dog, so I left Rudy and Gretchen in the front with Suzanne. When I walked into the back room, I saw what I thought was a small grizzly bear. Briggs is a 120 lb. Leonberger, a mix between a Great Pyrenees, a St. Bernard, and a Newfoundland. As enormous as Briggs was, he was obviously a very well-mannered lover-dog. Mike was also interested in our sailing adventures, and I told him about Rudy the Sailing Wiener Dog having crossed the Atlantic with us on our sloop Liberty. (It took me about 5 seconds to visualize Mike rowing Briggs ashore in a 10 foot long dinghy for a walk and I almost burst out laughing, but restrained myself, for once...) 

There was a very important reason for stopping in the Calgary area; about 40 miles south was an Itasca RV dealer, High River RV, that had agreed to repair one of our three slide-outs, which had begun acting very badly, grinding and moving erratically on its four tracks. In fact, we had not even extended that slide for the past two weeks because had it gotten stuck in the out position while in the Rockies, we would be in “deep doo-doo”. We had heard that High River was particularly hard hit by flooding last month, and as we drove through town, it was evident that complete recovery was a long way off. Parts of town still don’t have electricity, water and sewer service, and blue porta-potties were scattered through the business and residential areas. Hardly any businesses were open downtown, but fortunately the RV complex was away from the flooded area.


Just down the street was a large ServiceMaster recovery staging area, with long lines of workers about to start or just having finished their shift cleaning out mud, ripping out soaked dry wall, and other critical tasks in saving the town’s homes and businesses. It reminded me of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, when we went back to New Orleans to see my old family home, a two story house only a half mile from the major levee break on the 17^th Street Canal. Lake Pontchartrain’s waters had risen two feet above the upstairs floors, washing away a couple of smaller houses on our block, and even though our visit was a year after Katrina, it was still a disaster. We felt very sad for the people of High River, many of whom worked at the RV dealership where we had just arrived.

Tuesday was entirely devoted to trying to repair our damaged slide-out mechanism. Unfortunately, it appears to be what is called in the Navy “a cascading casualty”, first, a design fault, with insufficiently sized bearings having been installed to support the heavy slide carrying the kitchen and living area furniture, which then caused the second problem, one of the two motors having burnt out because of excessive loads. There was an additional issue in that replacement parts would have to be shipped from Indiana to Canada, with a likely week-long shipping and Customs process delay.

 After talking to a Winnebago factory sales rep who just happened to be visiting that day, we decided to get the slide retracted and drive south to Longmont, Colorado, where we had purchased The Coach. That way we should be arriving in the Denver area at the same time as our parts. Sounds like a good plan, right? Well, there is an old Army saying that “No plan ever survives initial contact with the enemy.” In this case, the “enemy” was the now-extended slide that decided it didn’t want to retract. These photos show the series of maneuvers the RV repair team had to use to get the slide in so we could drive away. Starting with a couple of guys pushing while I hit the buttons for the surviving motor, the slide would only move in a few inches, and was canted at a 10 degree angle, instead of sliding in level. NOT GOOD!

We then recruited some additional shop guys to push, but the slide still would not go in.

Finally, they got a padded wooden support and used a jack to lift the slide level. With one motor and lots of strong arms, the slide finally retracted 98% of the way in, and we were again ready to travel.

We also had limited success in getting my computer partially repaired, at least to be able to retrieve most of its data. The corrupted Windows operating system was reinstalled, but wireless capability and my contact list were lost, so I'm still relying on Suzanne's laptop for connectivity until I get a replacement... let’s see, I’ll ask my Minnesnowta IT advisor, “Hey, Terri, is the Commodore 64 still available at Best Buy?”

In celebration of our last night in Canada, we decided to splurge on a dinner out. First try was Bistro Provence, in Okotoks, Alberta, but the $45 entrees put me off my feed... (How can you ask those prices in a town with a name you can hardly pronounce? I think the answer is that it’s one of the closest restaurants to where the hundreds of out of town recovery workers are staying...) Anyway, we both agreed that the $14.95 Indian buffet would be a lot more sensible. Here is Suzanne enjoying her naan, butter chicken, beef curry and daal.

As I complete today’s blog, My Lovely Bride is guiding us down Canada’s Highway 4, with 65 miles to go to the US border at Sweetgrass, Montana. We have truly enjoyed our time in British Columbia and Alberta. The scenery was spectacular, the wildlife visible but non-aggressive, and the people delightful. We are looking forward to returning next summer and spending more time in both provinces, with much more hiking on the schedule, as well as keeping Suzanne busy with presenting workshops and giving readings.

Icefield Parkway; Bear! Train Whistles; A Solo Hike; Docs on Bikes

On Saturday, we took a long drive north from Lake Louise up the Icefield Parkway, touted by none other than National Geographic as one of the most beautiful drives on earth. It didn’t take long to prove that magazine correct. This was the view from Bow Summit, with Peyto Lake below our viewpoint. The turquoise lake looks almost frozen-over, but its 50 degree water temp is still a bit brisk for swimming.

These hanging glaciers are actually several miles away, and much larger than they appear in a telephoto lens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Canadian Rockies around here are mostly limestone, with lots of sheer cliffs for rock climbers to enjoy. Unfortunately, the glaciers are receding, so if you want to see them in their splendor, book a trip here sooner rather than later!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just past that viewpoint, Suzanne looked in the rear view mirror, gasped, and pulled over for a photo of Crowfoot Glacier. It’s hard to imagine that during the last Ice Age, glaciers filled all of these U-shaped valleys, and much of North America, with thousands of cubic miles of moving ice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the drive, we encountered a traffic jam (that’s more than three cars up here). The center of attraction was this very photogenic black bear. (My Lovely Bride suggested that I snuggle up to him for a buddy-buddy photo shot. I declined…)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Glancing down from the highway, we saw a small riverside campground (almost deserted) and decided to take a peek. The gurgling stream, mountain views, and warm sunshine made this an idyllic venue for Suzanne to meditate while I stretched and read a book.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because we had added two days to our planned visit here in Lake Louise, the campsite we had been in for three days had been booked for the weekend, so we had to move to another spot. Although we lost our mountain and river view, it seemed like a good spot until midnight, when the first of 8 late night trains came down the tracks only 50 yards from The Coach, each engineer ensuring that the tracks were clear of bear and elk by loudly announcing the train’s approach with a ten second series of blasts on their whistles. Suzanne must have intuitively known I wasn’t sleeping, because she kept saying aloud, “Oh, my God.” My initial subconscious thought was that Suzanne’s dad, a train engineer himself, was sending her a greeting… after the second and third, though, I knew we had simply been allocated a campsite that the Canadians didn’t want! Unfortunately, we had scheduled an early reveille for the next morning, and constant interruptions weren’t helping our beauty rest.

The purpose of rolling out of our bunk early was to complete a steep mountain hike above Lake Louise, up to the Plain of the Six Glaciers, a 9 mile/4 ½ hour hike with 1000 foot elevation gain where your efforts are rewarded by fabulous glacier vistas and a Tea House. We had been looking forward to this hike all week, but since my back is still in recovery mode, My Lovely Hiker Bride had to do this one on her own. After a spinach and feta omelet breakfast, she set off to beat the crowds while I stayed back with Rudy and Gretchen.  Here is a view of the trail and Lake Louise far below. (She looks pretty perky for having climbed that far!)

 

Part of the trail is along a rockslide area, where a safety cable provides a modicum of security for those not at ease with several hundred feet of “exposure”… that’s a mountaineering euphemism for “potential free fall”! (As climbers joke, the first few seconds are exciting… it’s the last half second that’s no fun at all.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Suzanne reached the top of the trail to find a viewpoint with several splendid glaciers that she had to herself for a while. Good think she started early, because several other hikers started arriving as she began her descent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While on the trail, Suzanne had met two doctors, Marisa and Lis, whom she invited over for a glass of wine. We enjoyed their company immensely – they are bicycle camping here in Banff National Park during their summer vacation. Both are runners, Lis in training for her first half marathon and Marisa having run Boston last year. (She was at the 24.5 mile point when the terrorist bombs exploded. Fortunately she was not hurt.)

 

 

 

 

 

Tired but happy after a day of mountaineering, My Lovely Bride was happy to let me make her a pasta dinner with sausage, sun dried tomatoes, garlic and olive oil. As the shadows lengthened on our last full day in the Canadian Rockies, we both wished that we had planned more time here. Tomorrow we head for Calgary, Alberta, where I hope to get my computer repaired and some corrective work done on The Coach.

A Hateful Place; Two Naked Blondes; SWAT Team; Biker Doc; Lake Louise; The Blue Death…

We arrived here in Lake Louise, Alberta (pop. 500), one of Canada’s smallest but most popular, stunning and romantic locations, on Wednesday afternoon. Our campsite is in what we euphemistically call “A Hateful Place”… out the front window is a beautiful mountain river, blue-green with rock powder, and roaring along at about 6-7 mph just 40 yards from our front door. Out the side window is Mt. Temple, 10,401 ft., with a hanging glacier to admire over dinner. Just before dinner, in fact, we had walked the river trail, admiring the stream, the forest and the mountains, and wishing that we had seen some wildlife before going inside The Coach for dinner.

I was just washing up after another delicious Chicken Marsala, and glancing out at the river, only a few seconds walk away, two naked blondes ran by – that’s right, they had absolutely no clothes on. As you might guess, this caught my attention… Normally I might say to My Lovely Bride, “Excuse me, Sweetheart, I‘ll be back in a few minutes. I need to go interview some subjects for the blog and capture some photos while the light’s still good. You stay here and work on your computer.” But these were not two “normal naked blondes” - they were 250 pounders! I shouted, “Grizzlies! Two just ran right to left down the river trail!” Suzanne grabbed her camera, and I grabbed our can of bear spray, and the hunt began. It wasn’t long before the rangers arrived to use their truck and horn to keep the bears out of the campground itself where campers were dining on their picnic tables, blissfully unaware of the two Ursus ursus wandering through the woods a few yards from their hamburgers. Suzanne was able to get a few decent distant photos, a couple of bear butts but one really good one of a grizzly looking right at her through the brush. Fortunately, he wasn’t aggressive, probably due to the rangers’ truck horn blasting.

When the local SWAT Team arrived, I knew we were perfectly safe. You would feel safe, too, when an armed Predator drone arrived overhead, followed by a military armored car with eight fully armed, 300 lb., 6’ 8”, muscle-bound hulks in cammies, body armor, machine guns, bayonets, ammo bandoliers, gas masks, stun grenades, and steel helmets, who then put themselves between you and imminent danger from two raging wild grizzlies.

 

 

 

Wait… that might not have been an accurate description of our Canadian protectors. The SWAT Team, arriving in a small pick-up truck, was comprised of one part-time, summer park ranger, Jessica, who stood only 5’4”, weighed maybe 110 lbs, had on khaki shorts, blouse and hiking boots, and was carrying a radio, a traffic ticket pad, one can of bear spray, and this evil-looking rifle that fired compressed air bubble blanks (no projectiles or bullets at all) that made the noise of a .22 cal. but couldn’t injure anything or anyone unless she stuck the barrel in its eye. After asking all the turistas to please stand back, she marched confidently toward the two grizzlies and shouted at them to go away, occasionally firing her air rifle skyward for emphasis. The two hairy beasts took her meaning and ambled off deeper into the woods. (This is the woman with whom you want to go backpacking and tent camping in an African game park when the lions are hungry!)

 

After dinner, we took the puppies for a drive to Lake Louise itself. From studying the map, we had imagined a relatively small hotel and a huge lake… but reality was just the opposite. A medium-size but beautiful blue-green lake and an enormous hotel complex at one end, with one canoe rental pier and a mile long lakeside trail leading to several other dirt and rock backcountry trails.  The base rate for rooms here is $600 per night.

 

 

 

 

But what was most stunning were the mountains, arêtes, and glaciers surrounding the lake on all sides. It was crowded at the hotel area, but once you walked a few hundred yards along the lake path, the crowd (and their obnoxious noise) thinned out by 90%. Here are Suzanne, Rudy and Gretchen enjoying a moment of solitude with the lake and mountains in the background. We were so taken by the area that we immediately extended our stay until Monday. We also decided on a 10-12 mile hike up one of these mountains for the next day, Thursday… I had laid out most of the hiking gear we would need: bear spray, first aid kit, bear spray, food, water, bear spray, rain jackets and bear spray… but it’s funny how two tiny mistakes can have drastic consequences.

On Thursday morning, Hiker Chick held early reveille so we could beat the crowds to the trailhead. I was leaning down to put on my running shoes, and snap, for My First Mistake, I felt a flash of severe pain and knew my lower back muscles had gone out. The last time this had happened was a year ago at Mt. Shasta in northern California. Lake Louise Village is very small, with only about ten shops total, one market, a liquor store, two clothing stores, a bookstore, a bakery, a couple of eateries, and a gift shop. It took several hours to get an appointment at the one medical clinic here, which is only open afternoons, and mostly treats ski injuries in winter and hikers ankle sprains in summer.  Dr. Nottebrock prescribed some meds and bed rest for 2-3 days, and even has the only small pharmacy in town. Coincidentally, he is a delightful person, extraordinarily fit, and an expert mountain biker who also owns two bike shops in British Columbia. So now I am semi-horizontal on the couch, working on the blog and trying to make a reasonably quick recovery so I don’t miss out on all the hiking here in Lake Louise.

So, what was Act Two in Ty’s Lake Louise Disaster? You’ve probably heard of the Black Death, the plague carried by rats from China that killed 1/3 of the population of Europe but also “thinned the herd” and led to the Renaissance? Well, this was not so tragic, but… Last week, Computer Guru Suzanne suggested that I back up my hard drive on a portable unit that she was no longer using, having switched to Carbonite, the on-line backup system. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to it soon…” Then last night, I booted my (previously) faithful Dell and “Arrgh… the Blue Screen of Death!” Okay, I’ll simply reboot, and all will be well with the world. 20 reboot attempts later, nada… zip… zilch! My computer will not restart. I am in Deep Doo-Doo.


 

I placed a phone call to my dedicated Information Technology Support Team, AKA My Lovely Daughter Elisabeth, who is not only a computer graphics artist and expert skier and mountaineer, but who also ran Texas A&M’s computer lab for two years. My problem description resulted in a grim, highly technical computer diagnosis and prognosis, but I will only include my interpretation of her IT bottom line: (a) my computer is toast; (b) I’m screwed; (c) I should cut my losses and buy a new computer. A very high tech Dell support team may be able to save the thousands of photos on my hard drive, but that will likely take a week or more at one of their facilities back in a large US city. There is no such facility in the back of the lone pizza shop here in Lake Louise, darn it! Consequently, we are time-sharing Suzanne’s computer in a town with only two Wi-Fi spots: a coffee shop and the Post Office.



Since I am on my back for a few days here in the wilds of the Canadian Rockies, I am also ergonomically-challenged, so I will apologize in advance for the paucity and quality of the blog until my recovery. I sincerely hope that you will bear with me (no pun intended) until I am back in battery physically and technologically. Until then, donations and flowers may be sent to the Asylum for the Impudent, Imprudent and Feeble-Minded.   

 

Elk Bridge; A Sexy Magpie, or Not? Where Caribou and Muskrat Meet; Hiker Chick; Inkpots; Lamby Chops

Here in Canada, they take their wildlife seriously. That doesn’t mean that Friday and Saturday nights in the bars are sacrosanct (but don’t look for a Budweiser where Labatts is sold, eh?). What I meant was that wild animals are protected here. For example, this is a wildlife crossing, primarily for migrating elk, moose and mule deer, as well as black and grizzly bears. It crosses above busy Canada Route 1, the Trans-Canada Highway, reducing the impact of car/truck/bus/motorcycle collisions with 1,200 lb critters. 

A few kilometers before arriving in Banff (why did the Canadians adopt the ridiculous metric system, anyway? Did they totally forget their English roots?), you pass this viewpoint above Second Vermillion Lake (there are three Vermillion Lakes, one more beautiful than the next)... I don’t think that there are many highways in the world with more striking views than this. 

This sign is just beyond the exit ramp for the town of Banff. Makes you wonder if you’ll see a big grizzly at McDonalds, chowing down on a Big Mac. “Hey, he can have my seat!”  

The town of Banff is actually pretty small, occupying a beautiful location along the Bow River, another blue-green glacial river that makes you want to set up a tent alongside it and spend your life musing about your place in the Universe or unrequited loves... or maybe becoming a professional hiker or ski bum. Banff is actually a very international town. Most of the service staff here are young people from places as diverse as Australia, Croatia, Poland, Ukraine, Germany, Switzerland, and Estonia. For example, we were driving back from a hike when the skies were turning dark and ominous with an approaching thunderstorm. On a lonely stretch of highway, we passed a young woman running. We slowed to her pace, and Suzanne opened her window and said, “I’m not sure you noticed the thunderstorm about to catch up to you. Would you like a ride? It’s a long way to wherever it is your going.” The young woman said, “Thanks, but I’m fine.” We proceeded on a few miles to our coach, and just as we arrived, the temperature dropped about 20 degrees and the wind and rain began in earnest, and you could hear thunder in the distance. Obviously thinking about our daughter Susan, Suzanne looked at me with a very concerned look and asked, “Should I go back and ask her again?” “Yes, of course, go ahead”, I replied. She drove back in a downpour and again asked the girl if she wouldn’t like a ride back home, which now she gratefully accepted. She was from Estonia, and who knows? Maybe Suzanne saved someone else’s daughter that day. 

While walking in Banff with Rudy and Gretchen, Suzanne caught this magpie hiding in some shrubs in downtown Banff. Normally I would give you the Latin name for this beautiful bird, as well as some interesting facts about its feeding and mating habits. (The latter facts seem to be more popular, for some reason.)  Anyway, because we are “Internet-challenged” here in the middle of the Canadian Rockies - we have to drive to McDonald’s to use their Wi-Fi, and there are no electrical outlets, so battery power is an issue - I regret that I cannot tell you whether the magpie is a quiet prude or a raucous sexpot. I shudder to think what some readers’ imaginations are doing right now. 

Just around the corner from the magpie was this street corner sign. My first thought was of a wildlife bar out in the woods, sort of like in the original Star Wars movie, where a caribou and a muskrat are sitting down for a friendly cocktail... since they are both herbivores, might they be drinking “Muskegaritas”? (My Lovely Bride really groaned over that one...) 

On Monday morning, Hiker Chick decided that her hubby needed a challenge... so she picked an intermediate hike with only 330 m elevation gain (let’s see, 330 x 3.3 = 1089 feet) over 5.4 km (3.4 miles) = about a 6% grade. On highways, that’s when the signs say “trucks shift to lower gears”). (Hello! Has she forgotten that I’m on Social Security?) I wouldn’t say no to her for anything (well, let me think about that for a minute...), so I agreed, and off we went on one of the most popular hikes in Banff... for young people... like TEENAGERS! Here is Your Fearless Correspondent trudging up a very rooty, slippery slope. You will note the red canister on his right hip... that’s the industrial sized pepper spray. The joke here is that grizzly bear scat (poop) is usually sprinkled liberally with pepper. (I don’t think that’s a very funny joke at all.) 

The hike started up a very crowded paved trail to two waterfalls, Johnston Canyon Lower and Upper Falls. It is a small river which over the past 8,000 years has cut down through a hundred feet of limestone. I was initially disappointed by the pavement and the number of other tourists, but once past the upper falls, the trail turned to good old dirt, and the travelers diminished to a relative handful. (And they were mostly in their 20s and 30s!) These photos of the river and falls give you a sense of the beauty of the canyon, but it would be even nicer at dawn or dusk with no one else around. (Let’s see, it’s an hour drive, so (a) get up at 0425 to make it by dawn, or (b) sleep in until 0700 and have coffee and breakfast with Suzanne, Rudy and Gretchen... Duh, that’s a no brainer.) 

But really, the hike was worth the trip... here was the view from the ¾ point, about a mile past the waterfall. My Lovely Bride is obviously ecstatic about the scenery!

The trail name was “The Inkpots”. What was that about? Well, the end of the trail was this beautiful area of springs which literally bubbled out of the ground in a beautiful meadow. The “ink pot” appellation refers to the air bubbles which created inky circles in muddy water in five pools varying in size from 25 to 80 feet in diameter. 

So here we are, at the end of a long day of touring and hiking, in beautiful Banff, one of the most beautiful places we have ever visited, and it’s time for a glass of wine and a nice dinner of roast lamb chops, sautéed stoplight peppers, buttered rice, and a very tasty Sonoma Valley Leese-Fitch Cabernet Sauvignon. Bon appétit!