1:05 a.m. - 2002-10-20
Banff
My Dad and I headed out into the mountains today. It was in the mid-60's F/15 C. Just about perfect weather for this time of year. We went to the town of Banff in Canada's first National Park of the same name, which is about 75 miles/128 km from Calgary.
When I was growing up, it was a frequent destination in the summer, first, with my family then later with my girlfriends in high school. Back then it was a quaint little artists' haven tucked deep in a valley hugged by a circle of mountains. There was one long main street lined with shops featuring the work of the local artisans, both aboriginal and western. The buildings were all constructed from the naturally occurring stone of the mountains or made of logs from the forest surrounding the town. My favorite place was the candy store with the homemade salt water taffy, but I loved spending hours browsing through the artwork too. In the outdoors, the choices were endless: horseback riding, hiking, fishing, swimming in the sulfur pools, and climbing.
Today we chose to visit the Whyte Museum first. It is one of three different museums in the townsite. This one is dedicated to documenting some of the colourful history and characters of the mountain valley, displaying the paintings of the artists who worked here, and preserving the environment through preserving a visual record of it in its pristine state. It was an enjoyable couple of hours. Today there was a showing of photos by a photographer who had arrived in Canada in 1902 from China. Through his art he had documented the life and lifestyles of that time. There were several things that made the showing of his collection unique. First, there were his daughters. He and his wife had 10 children - eight of them girls. Eight of the siblings are still alive and range in age from 73 to 88. Two of the daughters were present to answer questions about their Father's work and life. I spoke with May who is 85 but looks about 50. She had fascinating details to add about the subjects in the photos. Most of them were of the immigrants who flooded into Canada at that time because of the discovery of gold at Barkersville in British Columbia, just after the completion of the railway. They came from every corner of the globe. An unusually high number of the photos were of the women of the time. Portraits of strong females who neither asked nor gave quarter, who hunted and fished with the best of them, ran their own businesses, and raised their children at the same time. The balance of the photos were of the Carrier and Caribou Indians. Not the "aren't they quaint" things that are often seen in museums, but photos that caught the nature of the individual rather than the stereotype of the photographer or the intended audience.
Next, We drove around the town just trying to take in the changes that have occurred recently. Banff is now a "tourist destination" and it shows. Wall to wall hotels, motels, bed and breakfasts, and souvenir shops. But the original essence is still there and the town works hard to keep it that way. We drove past the Banff School of Fine Arts. Deer on the terrace feeding quietly. A road race in progress. I had attended a week long seminar there when I was in high school. It was sort of a "think tank" for teens from across Canada on a number of national issues. I remember it well; lots of great presenters and vigorous debate. We drove past the spot in the Bow River where one of my girlfriends' horse balked and froze midway while we were fording it. She should have known better than to try and flirt with the trail bosses - those fillies didn't like the competition. We stopped at Phil's Pancake House for a quick lunch. I had a Spanish omelet that was very well prepared served with a carafe of some of the best coffee I've had in a long time. My Dad ordered French toast. When the sweet young thing who was our waitress arrived with his order, he asked if he could have some ketchup to put on it. It was obviously that was a combination that she had never tried before and it appeared it didn't appeal to her. Different strokes for different folks.
Next we headed to Sulfur Mountain. I was hoping we could hike up to the peak but it is quite a long, steep, winding trail and the path was covered with snow, 2 or 3 feet deep in some places, and slush. Not really fair to ask my Dad, but I teased him about it anyway - that and the horseback riding - he wasn't fussy about either. We hopped on the Gondola instead. It's an 8 minute ride from the base of the mountain to the peak, moving from an elevation of 4500' to 7500' above sea level in that time. A little hard on the eardrums.
On the way up, Dad was telling me of the time he and my Mom took my Great Aunt up. Apparently the sky suddenly went purple as a storm blew in, the gondola stopped in mid-air, and the lightning was jumping from cloud to cloud - just outside the car. My Mom and Great Aunt thought it was a fabulous show; my Dad, being an electronics technician, was busy calculating the heat that would be generated and the path of the electricity should the lightning strike one or both of the cables suspending the gondola in the air.
It was quite a bit cooler that high up and the wind was quite brisk. We hadn't been wearing our jackets up until then, but it was a good thing we remembered to bring them with us. A lot of the people hiking up the trail were in shorts and t-shirts while a lot of the tourists were in parkas - quite a contrast. Nuthatches chasing each other through the trees. The view on the peak is beyond description. For a realtime experience of what we saw go to www.banffgondola.com and click on the webcam. The links on the site take you to the Whyte Museum and a number of the other features of the National Park as well.
An hour later we were heading home. As we drove east, we saw fisherfolk trying their luck along the banks of the Bow River. A lot of vehicles were pulled up on the verge near a lot of the hiking trails that begin along the highway. It's the time for the golden eagles to migrate from Alaska to Mexico so the yearly festival run from the town of Canmore (one main street - 3 golf courses) to celebrate that event was in progress too.
We stopped at my Dad's for a cuppa as he wanted to talk about my Mom for a while. Her birthday is on November 14 and she would have been 70 this year. Same day as Prince Charles - something she and my supervisor who has the same birthdate, weren't fond of being reminded of. We looked through some of the family photos to the strains of Harry Nilsson - my Dad's choice, and Brook Benton - my choice.
We were going to stop in at one of the local seafood restaurants for a bowl of clam chowder before ending the day but the place was jammed. I hate crowds - cattle calls are not my thing, so we went to a new Vietnamese place that just opened in my community. My Dad had their chicken soup and a crepe filled with shrimp, pork and veggies, while I had the bean vermicelli mixed with shrimp, green veggies and one of their traditional sauces. Yummy! In the meantime, my guys had fended for themselves by going out for Chinese so everyone was content.
A good day.
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