Picture this: a bike ride on one of the busiest and most scenic highways in Banff National Park. Pretty sweet, right? Now take motor vehicles out of the equation. For Dave and I, this was an opportunity too good miss.
Bow Valley Parkway/Highway 1A
The Bow Valley Parkway (Hwy 1A) was Banff’s original connection to Lake Louise before the Trans-Canada came along. The 48 km (30 mi) stretch is frequented by many—hoping to spot a bear, moose, elk, or perhaps some rocky mountain sheep along the way.
Riding along Vermilion Lakes Road.
We chose an early Wednesday morning for our ride, departing from the Fenlands Day Use Area around 8:30 am. Our route took us from Vermilion Lakes Road to the Legacy Trail connector—leading to Bow Valley Parkway.
Legacy Trail Connector.
Initially, we owned the road. Being the only cyclist on a major highway was a strange and foreign sensation. It was chilly, but the air was still, and our pedaling kept us warm. A deer, a glimpse of a Rocky Mountain sheep, and some fresh bear poop entertained us along the route.
Dave in search of sheep.
Time flew by, and before we knew it, we were at the Sawback viewpoint—far beyond our initial expectations.
Sawback viewpoint.
”Do you want to keep going?” I asked. “Johnston Canyon is only 3 km (2 mi) away, and wouldn’t a Diet Coke and Snickers bar hit the spot?” With Dave in complete agreement (bribery often works), we set off towards the prize.
By this point of the ride, we were no longer alone. A couple of serious road cyclists and several groups of electric bikers buzzed by. Not an issue—Dave and I are not avid road cyclists. We own two well-used mountain bikes to get us around town and along the canals and park paths in Phoenix and Canmore. To be able to ride on this solitary highway was a real treat, and we were pleasantly surprised about our handling of hills—until we hit the big one.
The first thing I heard was a frantic “on your left!”—followed by a biker pedaling like there was no tomorrow. “Wow,” I thought, “that guy sure is struggling to get up the hill...what the?”
I felt like I’d hit a brick wall. My biggest mistake was not shifting down in time, resulting in a complete standstill. As Dave zig-zagged past me, I walked it. A brief rain shower ensued.
Happily, Johnston Canyon was close. Tired and damp, we eagerly parked our bikes and headed to Johnston Canyon Market Cafe for sustenance—only to find that we had left Dave’s wallet in the Jeep after purchasing a National Park Pass. The look of disbelief on our faces was priceless. We reluctantly returned to our bikes—and into the drizzle.
As Dave lamented the possibility of tackling another monster hill, I wondered briefly (only briefly) if I could call for an UBER. It was a pathetic but honest thought. Fortunately, the return was primarily downhill. Wahoo!
Scruffy sheep.
I zoomed ahead only to stop for a close sheep encounter. Scruffy, pissed-off mamas and adorable babies leisurely crossed the highway—giving the cyclists the evil eye.
Our arrival at Fenlands felt triumphant. We logged 50 km (31 mi) that day—tired but no worse for wear.
Lately, we’ve pushed ourselves farther than we thought we ever could. Perhaps the three-year Covid hiatus has affected us—or maybe it’s the multitude of changes that have occurred in the Bow Valley. Overall, we’re feeling a sense of urgency to enjoy this beautiful place as long as we can.