I've lost track already of all the places we've been since we
left Dan's office. There are highlights, of course, but the
details. The people we've met and talked with almost fade into
the colors of the day. Pam has a hand-written notebook with
tidbits of information about our daily activities, which helped
remind me that we entered Canada on the first. We went through
one of those entry points you can imagine that they assign to
Border Agents who have trouble kissing the appropriate asses in
the appropriate manner. It was only open from 9am to 5pm.
We had spent the night at the Colville Grange Campground. It was free and had a host too. The host had her great-grandson living in her trailer. It seems that her 30-year-old granddaughter was finding it too difficult to raise a child and maintain her lifestyle. This situation is not new, but sad nonetheless. Brennon was a fun, little 4-year-old. He and I played frisbee until meltdown before bedtime. We picked up the game first thing in the morning. Just as we were about to leave Ron struck up a conversation about our van. He and his wife, Kathy, have a trailer but have been looking at getting something simple to operate and travel with. Ron had worked with Fish and Game for 31 years and was glad to have been asked to retire.
By the time we stopped for the day, we had reached Cranbrook, BC and found a Provincial Park just up the road from the entry into the town (Jimsmith Lake). It seems that as in Mexico, there are a lot of abandoned property development projects left over from the crash. We spent the next morning doing laundry and using their WiFi, emptying tanks and doing errands. It was lunchtime before we got out of there.
Because of our late start, Waterton Lakes National Park only got a drive through as we were chasing one of the few camping spaces left. There were only a couple of spaces left in one of the campgrounds at the edge of the park. We are finding that the fewer services offered at a camping location the better it suits us. This is probably due to the campsites look more like campsites and less like a parking space at Wal-Mart.
As we walking up the road from paying the $20CA at the registration booth, I was startled by a car quietly following us. We joked a bit about my reaction as we let him pass by. He just didn't want to startle us. That kind exchange was the introduction to an evening of good company, as Mark was the young man camped in the next site. He was maybe 30, yet had gone through enough relationship heartache and occupational headache by this time to give him a lot to think about. He loved Waterton and had spent a lot of time there since moving to the hinterlands from the big city. The campground was bordered by the Belly River, but unless you realized it was there you wouldn't even know to go looking. Mark led me through the trail hidden by high grasses and bushes to the river not more than 30 meters (this is Canada) from our campsite. He showed me where his girlfriend had watched a family of five beavers played and lived just across the river. When I took Pam down to show her the river, we were graced with a beaver sighting about 2 meters from where we were standing. Man, that was one huge beaver!
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| Pend-d'Oreille River just across the Canadian border |
We had spent the night at the Colville Grange Campground. It was free and had a host too. The host had her great-grandson living in her trailer. It seems that her 30-year-old granddaughter was finding it too difficult to raise a child and maintain her lifestyle. This situation is not new, but sad nonetheless. Brennon was a fun, little 4-year-old. He and I played frisbee until meltdown before bedtime. We picked up the game first thing in the morning. Just as we were about to leave Ron struck up a conversation about our van. He and his wife, Kathy, have a trailer but have been looking at getting something simple to operate and travel with. Ron had worked with Fish and Game for 31 years and was glad to have been asked to retire.
By the time we stopped for the day, we had reached Cranbrook, BC and found a Provincial Park just up the road from the entry into the town (Jimsmith Lake). It seems that as in Mexico, there are a lot of abandoned property development projects left over from the crash. We spent the next morning doing laundry and using their WiFi, emptying tanks and doing errands. It was lunchtime before we got out of there.
Because of our late start, Waterton Lakes National Park only got a drive through as we were chasing one of the few camping spaces left. There were only a couple of spaces left in one of the campgrounds at the edge of the park. We are finding that the fewer services offered at a camping location the better it suits us. This is probably due to the campsites look more like campsites and less like a parking space at Wal-Mart.
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| Approaching Waterton Lake National Park in Canada |
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| Meadow adjacent to the remote campsite in Waterton |
As we walking up the road from paying the $20CA at the registration booth, I was startled by a car quietly following us. We joked a bit about my reaction as we let him pass by. He just didn't want to startle us. That kind exchange was the introduction to an evening of good company, as Mark was the young man camped in the next site. He was maybe 30, yet had gone through enough relationship heartache and occupational headache by this time to give him a lot to think about. He loved Waterton and had spent a lot of time there since moving to the hinterlands from the big city. The campground was bordered by the Belly River, but unless you realized it was there you wouldn't even know to go looking. Mark led me through the trail hidden by high grasses and bushes to the river not more than 30 meters (this is Canada) from our campsite. He showed me where his girlfriend had watched a family of five beavers played and lived just across the river. When I took Pam down to show her the river, we were graced with a beaver sighting about 2 meters from where we were standing. Man, that was one huge beaver!
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| The little knob sticking out of the bank on the right side is the home to a family of beavers |
September 2
Breakfast was a simple bowl of cereal and a banana. Mark was trying to entice me with a foil gourmet creation of eggs and sausage and potatoes, but I the call of Glacier was greater. I wanted to get there and get some hiking in. We had been doing too much driving and not enough doing. I did make note of his recipe though with cut up baby potatoes that were cooked with the sausage, then the egg added and the cheese added at the end.
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| Road scenery on way to Glacier |
One of the best decisions we made so far in this trip was to park the van and take the shuttle to the hiking trails within Glacier like we were required to do in Zion last year. It was free and watching the poor souls who thought that having their own vehicle was so necessary fight for a very limited parking availability proved how valuable it was.
We went directly to Logan Pass, which is the mid-way point on the Going-to-the-Sun Road, to hike the trail to Hidden Lake Overlook. It was a gorgeous trail of boardwalk interspersed with natural features and paved where necessary. It was only 1.7 miles to the Overlook, yet it provided quite a bit of adventure. The wind had nothing to slow it down and it seemed to take advantage of that situation. The clouds were swirling and moving fast changing the light and landscape constantly. We weren't sure, but the four big-horned sheep sure seemed like they were a bit of artistry placed on the hillside for our enjoyment. The lake down in the deep bowl would have been mystical in any light, but the swirling clouds made it scene right out The Hobbit.
As if on queue, as soon as we turned back towards the visitor's centre (this is Canada), we were treated to a whole spectrum of weather all at once. Rain, sleet, snow, high winds and mixed into a show that left us drenched by the time we got back and got on settle headed down off the pass. True magic.
the decision. Another decision that proved to be a good one. St.
Mary Falls were worthy, but Victoria Falls were pretty awesome.
And, we were pretty much dry by the time we got back to the
shuttle stop. In the final tally, we had got a good eight miles
in on the trials.
Back into Canada to try and find a place to crash for the night, we chose Park Lake Provisional Park off the map and headed that direction. Of course, the magic box thought it would be best if we toured some of the local haul roads (gravel) as it was the shortest route to the park. By the time we got there, it was 8- ish PM and the park was a reservation-only park. Plus, it was Labour Day Weekend. Katie, the Information Officer at the Park, confirmed that there were no openings at her park, but told us how to get to a municipal park just down the road a bit. We were not able to find it on the GPS, but she laid out some simple directions on how to get there. We stumbled upon it just as the light was going away for the night.
The Coalhurst Miners Memorial Campground was one of the best situations we've had in awhile for a paid campground. It only cost $20 and had a decent, clean shower that gave you five minutes of heated bliss and a nice boardered level area to park. And it was quiet with only two other fifth-wheeled trailers parked on the other end. The showers were five minutes for a Luney, which is Canada's $1 coin and was something we didn't have. In my going around to ask for change from the two residents there, I met Vernon. He didn't have any more Canadian money as he was leaving the country tomorrow and had worked to get rid of it. He was headed back to southwest Georgia, where his accent was from, after spending the summer in Alaska where it was cooler. His wife of 51 years missed the trip that they had been talking about for years having passed last just last year. She was just 69.
I was successful in making change for a fiver with the couple in the next trailer and returned to give one of the Luneys to Vernon so he could take a shower tonight too. He offered up a stay at his farm if we got down that way. I told him that were expected to be down in the area in November sometime. A little later he brought by his address and information. It is a visit I look forward to and I circled his town on our map.
We were up early and out of there before there were any lights lit in the other trailers, so we missed being able to say good- bye. We had our eye on getting to Moose Jaw and spending the night. For some reason, the underground tours of Chinese Railway workers that the Canadian government were generally using as slaves and later used by Al Capone and his men during the Prohibition Era didn't seem all that interesting after we heard about them from the information folks along the Saskatchewan highway booth, so we set our sights on Moose Mountain Provisional Park. It was a long day of driving. We didn't arrive in the less-than-stellar campground until about 8pm. We couldn't figure out how to pay the fee, so we'll try again tomorrow if they're up before we head out.
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| St. Mary's Falls |
Back into Canada to try and find a place to crash for the night, we chose Park Lake Provisional Park off the map and headed that direction. Of course, the magic box thought it would be best if we toured some of the local haul roads (gravel) as it was the shortest route to the park. By the time we got there, it was 8- ish PM and the park was a reservation-only park. Plus, it was Labour Day Weekend. Katie, the Information Officer at the Park, confirmed that there were no openings at her park, but told us how to get to a municipal park just down the road a bit. We were not able to find it on the GPS, but she laid out some simple directions on how to get there. We stumbled upon it just as the light was going away for the night.
 |
| The magic box has a different idea of short cuts |
The Coalhurst Miners Memorial Campground was one of the best situations we've had in awhile for a paid campground. It only cost $20 and had a decent, clean shower that gave you five minutes of heated bliss and a nice boardered level area to park. And it was quiet with only two other fifth-wheeled trailers parked on the other end. The showers were five minutes for a Luney, which is Canada's $1 coin and was something we didn't have. In my going around to ask for change from the two residents there, I met Vernon. He didn't have any more Canadian money as he was leaving the country tomorrow and had worked to get rid of it. He was headed back to southwest Georgia, where his accent was from, after spending the summer in Alaska where it was cooler. His wife of 51 years missed the trip that they had been talking about for years having passed last just last year. She was just 69.
I was successful in making change for a fiver with the couple in the next trailer and returned to give one of the Luneys to Vernon so he could take a shower tonight too. He offered up a stay at his farm if we got down that way. I told him that were expected to be down in the area in November sometime. A little later he brought by his address and information. It is a visit I look forward to and I circled his town on our map.
We were up early and out of there before there were any lights lit in the other trailers, so we missed being able to say good- bye. We had our eye on getting to Moose Jaw and spending the night. For some reason, the underground tours of Chinese Railway workers that the Canadian government were generally using as slaves and later used by Al Capone and his men during the Prohibition Era didn't seem all that interesting after we heard about them from the information folks along the Saskatchewan highway booth, so we set our sights on Moose Mountain Provisional Park. It was a long day of driving. We didn't arrive in the less-than-stellar campground until about 8pm. We couldn't figure out how to pay the fee, so we'll try again tomorrow if they're up before we head out.
Monday, September 5th--Labour Day
And, there are no details as it's been 21 days since the fifth of September that I finally get around to finishing this post and the details are lost into the swirling mass of memories.
