New Year

January 4, 2019

For me and for many, the holiday season holds both happy and often some pretty sad memories. But when one starts a new year, I feel it’s wise to focus on the happy times, because they have the power to soften the sad ones.

I have lived in Phoenix for over 30 years, yet had never really explored the mountains surrounding this beautiful city. Then I fell in love. Dave was new to the desert and it’s rugged environs fascinated him. How could anything survive in this heat? Let alone thrive. That’s when we began taking hikes in the Phoenix Mountain Preserves on the weekends he was in town from Houston.

There are so many paths to take here. Our favorite path is a loop that starts from the parking lot to Piestawa Peak. About four miles, and about 800 ft in elevation. Halfway along this trail, we pass a large boulder with a hieroglyph on it. For the past three years, we often see the same lizard enjoying the sun. Quite a nice condo he inhabits—safe and warm, with a view.

Don’t let the crowded parking lot deter you—the trails are so vast that you can easily find solitude. In the spring, desert wildflowers bloom. After a rain, the sweet smell of creosote and mesquite fill the air.

And it just so happened that on a bright December day, close to Christmas, on a bench overlooking the Phoenix skyline, Dave asked me to marry him. It was the beginning of something truly magical.

We still hike the Preserves and we still take a break on that bench. That’s when Dave asks me if I would still marry him. My answer is always the same. :)

Here’s to Happy. Happy New Year!

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Tunnel Vision

November 30, 2018

Hiking when it is cooler has always been our preference. It is so much more enjoyable when you’re not sweating profusely, or searching for a shady spot at every turn. But we got a little more than we bargained for on our hike to the railroad tunnel in Rim Country.

It started out simple enough, but our math was wrong. Hmmm, 70° in Phoenix equals 50° in Payson. Beautiful! As we approached the Col. Devin trailhead in Washington Park, we noticed the wind had picked up a bit—as in 30mph gusts. It was 8am and 28°. Yow. Unfortunately, the sun had just started to rise and left most of the trail in the dark.

Col. Devin trailhead, Washington Park, Rim Country.

Thankfully, I brought hats and gloves. No winter coats, however, just thermals. The first half of the hike is hard to remember. I just know that we hiked it very quickly with our heads down. The elevation gain of 1500ft didn’t seem to bother us at all.

Tunnel Vision. James Eddy’s vision was to construct the Mineral Belt Railroad, which would, when completed, cross Arizona from north to south. In the summer of 1883, forty-two men set out to drill a 3,100ft tunnel that would ascend the Mogollon Rim. Didn’t happen. It seems they ran out of money, twice, and abandoned the project altogether. The tunnel can’t be more that 100ft long. All Dave and I kept wondering was, “Who signed off on this endeavor?”

The views from the tunnel entrance were spectacular. The sun finally began to fill the valley with light.

Two hours later, we were back in our nice warm jeep, heading back to the desert. All in all, I guess James Eddy’s tunnel wasn’t a total loss. It provided the perfect frame for one beautiful view.

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Apache Sunrise

November 11, 2018

Dave and I are definitely morning people. It seems like whenever we decide upon a departure time, that time somehow becomes embedded in our minds like cement. We are usually ready to leave way before we need to be. So, the decision to get to the Apache Trail by sunrise was a no-brainer.

Our plan was to miss morning traffic, which we did without a hitch. Unfortunately, we arrived at Canyon Lake before sunrise. Yup. Pitch black. We parked at the Vista viewpoint and waited for the sun to rise. It was worth the wait. Magical.

Anxious to get the most of the morning light, we scrambled back into the jeep, and headed towards the dirt road that lay ahead just past Tortilla Flats. We climbed up an embankment to view saguaros, ferocacti, and lush ocotillos. You could see forever.

Now, for a little history. The original Apache Trail was believed to be a footpath used by Anazazi tribes to trade with the Hohokam. The Apache Indians also used the route to travel through the Superstitions and Tonto National Forest.

The trail as we know it today was built as a supply road to the Theodore Roosevelt Dam site and was one of the first projects funded by the National Reclamation Act of 1902. At that time, the trail was known as the Tonto Wagon Road.

After completion in 1905, the road was opened for public use. The Southern Pacific Railway was one of the first to promote the trail as an additional motorcar side trip—part of it’s famous Sunset Route. The railway actually coined the name Apache Trail in it’s advertising and the name has been used ever since.

Twenty-eight miles of a steep, twisting, narrow dirt road. Amazing.

As we headed towards Apache Lake and the Roosevelt Dam, we drove through narrow canyons and crossed several one-car bridges.

The dirt road ended as we approached Roosevelt dam. Construction of the dam was started in 1906 and took five years to complete. Built from stone carved from canyon walls, it remains the world's largest masonry dam at almost 300 feet tall.

The dam continues to provide the Phoenix Metro area with water and hydroelectric power.

Roosevelt Dam, at the end of Apache Trail

With the Apache Trail completed, hunger ensued. We made it to The Butcher Hook in Tonto Basin, just in time for a late breakfast. Eating with the locals. Kinda nice.

One of the most wonderful parts of our drive was that we seemed to be the only ones on the road. It often felt as if we were on our own private tour. Maybe we were really lucky, or maybe, just maybe it could have been our 5 a.m. departure.

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The Granite Dells

October 29, 2018

You could call our friend Katherine a bit of an activist. When she takes up a cause, there is usually a pretty good reason behind it. This one however hits a little close to home—her home. You see, Kat lives in the Granite Dells, just north of Prescott, Arizona. Her cabin, nestled amongst few neighbors, is a 1950’s icon purchased by her mom in the 70’s. Surrounded by wildlife and massive boulders, it is quiet, secluded and peaceful.

The Granite Dells are geologically unique, consisting of bedrock and large eroded precambrian granite boulders. Think of The Flintstones, yeah, the town of Bedrock, and you pretty much have the picture.

The Peavine National Recreation Trail, northeast of Prescott, Arizona.

Last Saturday, Katherine invited us up to walk along the Peavine National Recreation Trail, a popular destination for walking, biking, hiking, climbing, birding and horseback riding. The trail follows the former rail bed of the Santa Fe Prescott and Phoenix Railway and connects to the Iron King trail. Both are rails to trails conversions. Our walk wound its way past large formations of rounded, compressed boulders, balanced in perfect symmetry. Even though we were only minutes away from Katherine’s home, it felt as if we were in a different time and place.

About 2.5 miles from the trailhead, Watson Lake came into view. Wow.

A glimpse of the Watson Lake, from the Peavine Trail.

Currently, there are plans for a residential/resort development to be built on 2,500 acres located near the Granite Dells. According to city code, 25% of that land must be open space. Unfortunately, a portion of the purchased acreage encroaches the Peavine Trail. It has not yet been determined by the builder where that open land will be located. A grassroots campaign named Save the Dells is underway to have the open space be concentrated in a 500-acre city park, protecting the Peavine and Iron King hiking trails and the iconic “Point of Rocks.” Seems reasonable.

We all know that development is going to happen, but wouldn’t it be sweet if it worked with nature, as opposed to against it?

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The Escape Factor

October 22, 2018

One of the best things about living in Arizona is having what I call “the escape factor.” I still find it miraculous that one can drive for a couple hours and be in an entirely different setting. The transition from saguaros to pine trees and snow is a magical experience that never, ever gets old.

Just north of Fountain Hills, entering Tonto National Forest

So, last week we decided to take a day trip up north to visit the White Mountains, a range located in eastern Arizona. Ambitious for a day trip, right? Nah. Remember, we are road warriors—and this was only an eight-hour roundtrip. Ok, ok, I am fudging a bit. In hindsight it was a long-ass drive for a day, but it worked out fine.

Our first mistake was leaving at 7:30am and spending the next hour getting out of Phoenix. However, once we hit Fountain Hills, we were home-free. The Beeline Highway led to Payson, also known as Rim Country. The Mogollon Rim is accessible from Forest Road 300, and is a destination not to be missed. It is more than worthy of it’s own day of exploration.

We arrived in Sho Low by late morning. Other than on the rim, there was no real sign of fall or snow. Beyond Pinetop/Lakeside, however, it became really beautiful. The road to Sunrise Park Ski Resort was spectacular. Aspens and dappled snow lined the highway.

As we gained elevation, winter appeared. Clouds rolled in, winds picked up and temperatures dropped.

Frosted trees, Fort Apache Indian Reservation

Much of the land was used for ranching—with scrubby and rugged rolling hills bordered by colonies of aspen and stands of pine.

Not too random interesting fact: “One aspen tree is actually only a small part of a larger organism. A stand or group of aspen trees is considered a singular organism with the main life force underground in the extensive root system. Before a single aspen trunk appears above the surface, the root system may lie dormant for many years until the conditions are just right, including sufficient sunlight. In a single stand, each tree is a genetic replicate of the other, hence the name a “clone” of aspens used to describe a stand.” —National Forest Foundation

Aspen colonies and Pine stands, Fort Apache Indian Reservation

Within the span of 8 hours, Dave and I experienced the Sonoran Desert to the White Mountains. And back again. Not too shabby for a Wednesday.

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Tutu Wonderful

October 15, 2018

I would be remiss if I didn't cover this adventure in October.

According to the Breast Cancer Foundation, there will be an estimated 266,120 new cases of invasive breast cancer diagnosed in women and 2,550 cases diagnosed in men in the U.S. in 2018. An estimated 41,400 breast cancer deaths will occur.

Our friends, Bob and Linda Carey are no strangers to these statistics. In 2003, Linda was diagnosed with breast cancer. She beat it, only to have it recur in 2006. Bob had lost his mom to breast cancer years earlier, and knew full well the battle they were up against. Bob, a professional commercial photographer, created a series of self-portraits donning a tutu, conceptualized during a shoot for Ballet Arizona. He shared the images with Linda, which resulted in some much needed laughter. Linda shared the images with other breast cancer patients during treatment and the rest is history. The photos went viral. In 2016. The Tutu Project was officially created. Linda is a now a 15-year breast cancer survivor, and an inspiration to all of us.

The Adventure: Last August, Bob came up to Canada to visit Dave and I in search of locations for some new tutu photos. Our daily road trips consisted of scouting for the perfect backdrop for the quintessential tutu shot. We found some despite the heavy smoke that filled the air, from multiple fires that covered Alberta and B.C. The thick haze and freaky orange glow added a sense of drama to the photos that was truly unique.

A drought had nearly emptied Goat Pond. It looked dry, but it was incredibly muddy. Dave was worried that a rescue might be in order. Nothing (and I mean NOTHING), stops Bob from getting the shot he wants.

Late one evening, we visited Moraine Lake and Lake Louise to shoot and had quite a few tourists from Germany and Japan recognize Bob, who then graciously posed for selfies with them.

Tutu at Lake Louise, Banff National Park

Our visit was filled with great conversation, laughter, and a lot of love. Dave introduced Bob to poutine, which quickly became his food of choice. Espresso the cat left a little gift in his suitcase. What a fiasco. All in all, a quick but successful three days of road trips and photographs. What a wonderful way to bring some joy and laughter into people’s lives in a most unusual way.

The Carey Foundation, a breast cancer non-profit was established to provide everything from financial assistance to emotional healing. They are global, reaching over 250,000 supporters worldwide. To find out more about The Carey Foundation or to make a donation please visit thetututproject.com

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Time Warp

October 7, 2018

It’s 4:30 a.m.—go time. We pack the pups into the Jeep and head out on the QE2 towards the border, our Saturday night destination of Idaho Falls a mere twelve hours away. It was grey and cold outside, with a mix of snow, rain and wind thrown in for good measure. No better day in my mind to depart the Canadian Rockies. We reach Lethbridge Alberta by 7:30 a.m. and stop by Tim Horton’s for a farewell 20-pack of Timbits and coffee.

Coulees in Lethbridge, Alberta at 110km/hr.

Railroad Bridge, Lethbridge, Alberta at 110km/hr.

Puccini packing it in for the long haul at 80 mph.

Goodbye to 110km/hr (68 mph), Hello to 80mph (128km). The border agent actually said “Welcome Home” to us. It was kind of sweet to hear him say that.

Our drive through Montana. was rugged and beautiful, even in the rain.

We arrived in Idaho Falls around 4:30 p.m. While there, I made my annual trip to a convenience store to stock up on some Idaho Spuds — an Boise original, made of chocolate, marshmallow and coconut. By the way, they also make a yummy confection called Huckleberry Gems, which unfortunately did not make it back to Phoenix.

The next morning we were in Salt Lake City just in time for sunrise.

As we approached the Arizona border, the landscape began to resemble a fall tapestry. Bryce Canyon and the drive through Kanab did not disappoint. And, the narrow road that winds through the Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park area was truly amazing.

For the most part, our drive though Arizona was a blur. Usually at that point in our journey, we are on auto-pilot, with our eyes on the prize.

Phoenix greeted us with rain and lower temperatures, which has helped a lot with the transition. Puccini and Dota have settled back into their desert routine. I heard that Canmore has six inches of snow. It’s great to be home.

Migration

September 28, 2018

Why do Canadians call the U.S. their southern neighbors? In Mexico, are we their northern neighbors? Hmmmm. I guess it is all relative to where one lives. A random thought.

Just as the geese fly, so do we. The last week before we hit the road is always a happy/sad occasion. It is important to keep busy. Meals consist of creative use of whatever is left in the fridge, along with figuring out what to take and what to leave.

The fall colors are beautiful here, as I imagine Flagstaff’s colors will be. Driving to Arizona will be like going back in time—from winter to fall, to summer. So weird.

Last week, the weather gods decided to smile upon us. We walked to town one day and then took Dota and Puccini to the “big boy” dog park. The aspens and larches were at their peak. Snow was melting and a sense of fall filled the air.

Later in the week we took a drive down Spray Lake Road to revisit Sparrowhawk Tarns for a fossil hunt. That morning turned into a wild moose chase of sorts (hahaha). After spotting a moose by the water’s edge at Spray Lake, we pulled over to investigate. Circling back, we patiently waited for the moose to cross in front of us. Unfortunately, when he finally did, he was in the shade.

Dave and I reached the Sparrowhawk trailhead around noon and hiked up to the giant rocks and scree to look at fossils. Strong winds and low temperatures cut our stay a little short, but all in all it was the perfect last hike of the season.

As our week winds down, the snow starts falling. We have seen several deer eating berries around our townhome, as well as a lot evidence of bear activity (tracks and poop). They are no doubt doing a bit of last minute preparation as winter approaches.

I’m beginning to realize how nice it will be to see an Arizona sunset, and once again rediscover the beauty of the Sonoran desert. Aww, look at me, waxing nostalgic. Ask me in a week or so to see if I still feel the same way.

Happy Trails, Alberta.

Fall 2.0

September 21, 2018

Now, where was I? Oh yes, the spruce grouse… Later that evening, it became abundantly clear to me why they were so darn busy.

I know I am being more than a little dramatic. It’s not that unusual for Canmore to get some snow in September, but it always seems to trigger the same reaction—anxiety. Does the furnace work? Where did we put the dog sweaters? (These desert dogs do not adapt well to the cold) Is the sun ever going to come out again? What is the temperature outside? It sure is dark in here. Have you seen my gloves? When do we head back to Phoenix? And on and on—you get the idea.

The day after the big snow, we ventured out to look for some elk. No luck this time around, but the dusting of snow was really beautiful. Early, but beautiful.

Next week we will try to do one more hike. The aspens and larches are turning and Canmore is showing off its fall finest. There is still time for fish and chips at The Drake, and perhaps a beer or two at Tavern 1883.

Oh, and by the way, did I mention that the forecast calls for SNOW?

Fall 1.0

September 14, 2018

“But when fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.” ― Stephen King, Salem's Lot

Seasons change quickly up here in the Canadian Rockies. The temperature drops and is slow to return. Soon it will be time to trade in the hiking shoes for cross-country skis and heavy boots. But not quite yet.

Rummel Lake Trail, Spray Valley Provincial Park

We managed to get in a hike that we were hoping to do late last week. The Rummel Lake Trail had a bear closure two days prior, then miraculously reopened. Splendid. It was raining the day of our hike, with about a 30% chance forecast throughout the day. We decided to take our chances, bundled up and headed out to Spray Lake Provincial Park. The rough, loose gravel road was blessedly clear of dust, settled from the rain. Our hike was about 9km (5.6mi) roundtrip, with a gradual elevation gain of about 427m (1,400 ft). It intersected with the High Rockies mountain bike trail and had a viewpoint overlooking the entire valley. The fall colors were just beginning, with the occasional lone aspen showing off it’s golden hue.

Spray Lake, from the bench on Rummel Lake Trail

About two-thirds of the way up, it started to drizzle. Then, it rained. Big, heavy, cold drops, freezing hands—you get the idea. The rain jackets came out, and we trudged up the trail, heads down, hoping the lake was just around the corner. Eventually it was, and it was spectacular.

It was not conducive for peanut butter sandwiches, however. As Dave and I explored the trail up to a meadow, the rain stopped and the skies started to clear. Heading back, we took some additional photos of the lake, now sunny and as smooth as glass. The Spray Valley was dappled with sunlight.

Towards the end of our adventure, we passed hikers in tank tops, who quizzically looked at us in our rain gear as if we were from another planet.

When I think back, what seemed really strange that day was that a half dozen spruce grouse were so busy feeding that they completely ignored us and wouldn’t give way of the trail.

Do they know something we don’t know?

Friends and Family

September 7, 2018

What is the purpose of living in a beautiful place like Canmore if you can't share it with others?

This past summer was epic in terms of guests. Karen and Joe, Margaret, Curtis and Nancy, Bob and Suzanne, and Dad and Nona made the trip up to spend time in one of the most beautiful places in the world. We ran the visual gamut, from quintessential Lake Louise and Moraine Lake, to much smaller venues (which btw, were every bit as stunning) such as Wind Ridge Pass, Chester Lake, Grassi Lakes, and the Spray Lake Trail. K-Country provided a scenic drives with hikes around Upper Kananaskis Lake, as well as a trip to Rawson Lake.

From left: Karen, Dave and Joe on the bridge over Bow River, Canmore; Margaret lunching at Rawson Lake — *From left:* Karen, Dave and Joe on the bridge over Bow River, Canmore; Margaret lunching at Rawson Lake

Dave, Curtis and Nancy at Upper Kananaskis Lake, K-Country

Bob and Suzanne at Lake Louise, Banff National Park

Dad and Nona, Upper Kananaskis Lake, K-Country

But all in all, I have to admit that one of the best moments of the summer was when Dad joined us for the West Wind Pass hike. This hike is eight miles long, steep and arduous. Side note: Why is it, that I always seem to blank out the difficult parts of hikes? And, why is it that when we tell Nona we'll meet her for lunch, our escapades always seem to take the entire day? Thankfully, Dad was a true man of the mountains, steadily hiking upwards to scenery reminiscent of The Sound of Music. Oh, and did I mention that he is 85? What the hell were we thinking? Were we thinking?

Was it worth it? You would have to ask my Dad. However, I think that the look of sheer delight on his face said it all. He crushed it.

As summer winds down, so do the fires. We have been blessed with clear skies and the opportunity to explore a bit more before we head south, like the geese. Memories of this summer have made me realize that sharing what we love with those we love is the gift that keeps on giving.

A Bump in the Road

August 28, 2018

Smoke and haze. B.C. is on fire again. After a week of poor air and visibility, we finally got a bit of a break. The wind turned to the east and started blowing the smoke back from where it came. We also got a little rain. Yay! The end result was a couple of days with fairly clear, clean air. Perfect for taking a bike ride on the Cascade Valley Trail in Banff.

One of several ponds along our path to the river.

The rain had softened the trail a bit. It was kind of like biking through a sandy, rocky wash. Every pedal stroke seemed to take more and more effort. Prior to the bridge the trail wasn't bad—a wide, moderate climb.

The new bridge over the Cascade River, replacing the one destroyed in the 2013 flood.

But once across the Cascade river, the trail turned rocky. Whine. I fondly remembered the last time we were slogging up the rocks when we turned back and saw a mother grizzly and her cub cross the road. That had been my personal turnaround point. Oh, and then the time Dave biked to the top of the a hill and after catching his breath, looked up and surprised a giant black bear. No such encounters this time.

Heading back, we enjoyed a quick lunch on the bridge, then continued with a fast, bumpy return to the Jeep. A nice reward for the effort.

Looking back, all I can say is, “Thank goodness for Motrin.”

Ticket to Paradise

August 20, 2018

If at first you don’t succeed… After 80 busy signals, Dave broke through and secured a coveted 11km bus ride and a camping site for Lake O’Hara — the holy grail of the Canadian Rockies

Birdseye View

August 13, 2018

“In this world of ours, the sparrow must live like a hawk if he is to fly at all”—Hayao Miyazaki

Well, then. That’s a tall order. I find similarities between that quote and hiking. If one never learns to climb, then one may never experience the view from the top. OK, let me put that in context. Once in a while, it is important to challenge yourself.

Favorites Large & Small

August 5, 2018

Once a designer, always a designer. There is not a day that goes by that I don't find myself matching miscellaneous items to Pantone swatches. Dave humors my obsession. With that in mind, I thought it was high time to share some of what we love about our summer home.

POOP Bags. Wow, how often do you see a poop bag personalized with the Canmore town logo? My friend Katherine, took a few of these bags back to Phoenix as a souvenir. Bag stands and disposal receptacles are discreetly placed throughout the townsite. No excuses for not cleaning up after pooch.

Roller Skiers. I was so enamored by these athletes that Dave and I went to the Nordic Center to see if I could purchase some skis to join in. The guy at the shop looked at me and said, “You know, these don't have brakes.” He followed up by saying, “Sorry, I really can’t sell these to you in good faith.” Enough said.

Neighborhood Deer and Elk. Walking the pups never seems to be boring.

Feral Bunnies. Canmore has been battling these “wascally rabbits” since the '80s. I tend to side with Ken Anderson, who has lived in Canmore for 28 years. He says, “It makes it sort of a cute, cuddly little place to live.“ https://bit.ly/2AJdA6p

Sewer Covers. That’s right, it’s the logo again. Such a nice touch, don’t you think?

Wildlife Crossings. Did you know that Banff National Park has the largest number of wild life crossing structures in the world? From 1996-2012, over 180,000 passages were recorded. The Elk were the first animals to cross. Bears are slow to learn, taking years to use them. https://bit.ly/2M2pU6s

Wildlife crossing structure in Banff National Park

Quarry Lake Dog Park. Canmorites love their dogs. This park is outrageous. No fences, paths everywhere, acres and acres (hectares!) to roam and a lovely lake to splash in.

The Big Head, Alan Henderson — *The Big Head,* Alan Henderson

I would be remiss in not mentioning a Canmore icon —The Big Head. Alberta artist Alan Henderson built a sculpture for the town using it’s name for inspiration. In Gaelic, Ceannmore (Canmore) means “big head,” so that’s exactly what Henderson produced. The community loves to accessorize it for different occasions. The giant head has been seen sporting a graduation cap, a winter toque, and a summer pirate hat. https://bit.ly/2M2LmrH

No matter how large or small, quirky or different, we love this place.

Sea of Humanity

July 31, 2018

Moraine Lake is a Canadian treasure. Once seen, it is something you do not forget— it is visually stunning. It is also very, very difficult to visit. With only 125 parking spots and a slew of tour buses coming and going, the only real way to get there during the day is by shuttle. What if you are not a shuttle person? Well, if you are a tight schedule, and you really want to see the Moraine Lake, I suggest you become one.

In the past, we could get there by 8:30am and secure a parking space. Not this year. By 7am, the lot was full and the park had set up road blocks. So, we decided to visit after the shuttle service ended. The twilight would be amazing, the crowds diminished. Perfect. After all, it is a 90-minute drive to Lake Louise, so one had better have a plan.

The park website said the last shuttle was at 5:30pm. Great! We walked around Lake Louise (which was a wall of tourists) and then headed to Moraine Lake. Until we saw the BARRIERS. “The shuttles run until 7:30pm,” said a Parks employee. “You’ll have to come back then.” It was 6:30pm and we had an hour to kill. Now what?

We drove to the ski lodge, which was closed. Hmmm. We looked for future hiking trails. We toured employee housing. And we visited the original Lake Louise train station, which was a worthwhile diversion.

An hour later, the barriers came down, and we were free to go—and WAIT. Parking slowly became available. By 8:30pm we were lakeside. The light on the mountains was god-like, and the lake a heavenly blue. Crowds dissipated. No tour buses.

The future is upon us. Shuttles are becoming the only way to see the world’s treasures. And, it seems like there is no going back.

Surfs Up

July 24, 2018

Canmore is known for its athletes, both professional and amateur. Everybody moves around here—climbing, biking, hiking, paddle-boarding. The love of sports is evident. Even so, the locals are always looking for new adventures. A recent tip from our neighbor led us to see the latest mountain trend. River surfing.

So, we took a drive to Canoe Meadows, which is located by the lower Kananaskis River in K Country. The parking lot was almost empty when we arrived at mid-morning. My guess is that surfers aren't necessarily early risers. Undaunted, we took a trail down to the river’s edge. This portion of the river was set up for canoe slalom. There were tons of gates, both red and green, positioned along the river amongst the rocks and rapids. Dave photographed a professional kayaker making her way through the course. Her name was Tracy Hines, and she was there for the ICF Kananaskis Canadian Nationals. She gave us some insight into the sport and what it entails, (besides a lot of strength). Think vectors.

Tracy Hines, Alabama, USA, testing the course.

We continued up the river to a deck that overlooked a large, standing wave. A lone surfer swam his way across the cold river and jumped up on his board. Regardless of location, it seems the ride often ends the same way. Wipeout.

For more information about river surfing in Alberta, visit https://albertariversurfing.com

Burstall Pass

July 17, 2018

Chester Lake was closed due to bear activity. Argh. Why didn’t we check the Park’s trail website before we left? Now what?

After an hour-long ride up Spray Lake Road, we were done with driving. What we needed was a Plan B. As luck would have it there was a B—as in Burstall Pass, just across the road. So, Plan B it was.

The trail took us up an old logging road through forests and lakes to an alluvian meadow. Rivulets of water threaded throughout the terrain. as we made our way across the wet, muddy soil. Surrounded by mountains, we were captivated by Robertson Glacier as we tried in vain to keep our feet dry.

About 4 miles in we started our ascent. The dense forest trail opened up into an beautiful alpine meadow, filled with wildflowers and young spruce. I spotted a familiar track on the trail, which looked disturbingly kind of fresh. No worries, hahahaha. Ha, umm.

We hiked through patches of snow up to the headwall and were rewarded with mountain views in all directions. The expanse was humbling.

Windy and chilly, we tucked into a small island of trees to enjoy our sandwiches. Burstall Pass now ranks as one of our all-time favorite hikes. Not bad for a Plan B.

Crown Jewel

July 10, 2018

Our friend Margaret is not a morning person by nature. But it is summer in the Canadian Rockies, and the true beauty of Lake Louise is best shared early. Really early.

We were up at 5:30 a.m. for a 6:30 a.m. departure. Our forecast was for partly cloudy skies with scattered showers possible.

We arrived around 7:30 a.m. and found parking easily. A steady, pelting rain greeted us. Undaunted, we bundled up in layers with raincoats and hiking poles and set out for the Plain of Six Glaciers teahouse. The rain created jewel-like images that were nothing short of magical.

Looking back, with the Fairmont in the distance.

The rain turned to drizzle as we started our ascent. The trail was essentially ours alone. Glaciers surrounded us. We made a steady climb through woods and scree. Part of the trail was out due to water, so we adventurously bypassed it on steep terrain. Awesome.

Photo break. Plain of Six Glaciers trail, Lake Louise, Banff National Park. — Photo break. Plain of Six Glaciers trail, Lake Louise, Banff National Park.

We reached the top and enjoyed the Teahouse's famous chocolate cake and tea. A short trek to view the glaciers was followed, along with some scary stories about Pole Glacier, a.k.a. the Death Trap. Fun.

Mountain solitude met high tourist season on the way down. But, we were content. Not only did we conquer mountains, we conquered CROWDS.

Chillin’

July 2, 2018

If you have spent even one summer in Arizona, this request comes as no surprise.

Joe to Dave: “I have heard about this huge glacier. It is supposed to be amazing. Is it possible to actually go and see it?” Hmmmm.

It is late June, and the mountains are still snowy and beautiful. And, the walk up to Athabasca Glacier in the Columbia Icefields can be chilling. Literally. Chilling. The perfect outing for our friends, Joe and Karen. Request granted.

Karen at Peyto Lake (note snow on coat!)

So, we loaded into the Jeep and headed up Icefields Parkway, the highway that connects Lake Louise to Jasper. By the time we made a pitstop at Helen Lake, it was snowing.

Cameras out at Bow Lake and Crowfoot Glacier. Peyto Lake was stunning. The sky was cloudy with patches of sun. Brisk. We continued on through Saskatchewan Crossing to the Columbia Icefields.

Athabasca Glacier loomed before us. A steady stream of brave souls could be seen making the frigid trek to the base. Tiny ants in comparison to the glacier itself. Joe and Dave joined the mecca while Karen and I held down the fort (hahaha). Hey, it was REALLY WINDY and COLD. We did discover a snowy mountain top in the shape of a gecko.

Athabasca Glacier, June 2018. Look closely to see actual people on the glacier

Notice the snowy gecko on the right. Ok, Ok. It Kinda looks like one, doesn't it?

Upon their return, the look of accomplishment on Joe’s face said it all. Mission accomplished.