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Published: August 30th 2019
After having been told yesterday that the car park at Moraine Lake usually fills up at 5am, we’re up at 3.30am and on the road by 4am. Issy’s still recovering from jet lag, so she does what is probably the sensible thing to do and stays in bed. Consensus is this had better be worth it. It’s raining on and off which isn’t doing much for our collective sense of humour.
We turn off the Highway at Lake Louise and make our way up the 10km windy road to the Lake. We hold our collective breaths as we approach the car park; if it’s full we’re not going to be happy campers. We drive quickly into the first empty spot we see. It’s a bit after 5am and there aren’t too many spots left, and it’s completely full a bit before 6am.
We sit in the car waiting for the sun to make an appearance. We were told by the Park staff yesterday that you‘re allowed to park here overnight, but it’s illegal to sleep here. Huh? Emma’s asleep, so I decide that I’d better wake her up. I wouldn’t want us to be kicked out now after going
to all this effort.
It’s starting to get light so we set off towards the lake. It’s a bit smaller than Lake Louise, but just as stunning. The water is an even deeper blue grey colour and the mountains with glaciers hanging off them are even steeper and more spectacular.
We climb a large and very steep hill of enormous flat rocks to get a better view. On the way up we pass a sign warning about bears. It says that it’s only “recommended” to travel in groups of four or more on hiking trails around here. If it was “mandatory” and you failed to comply, the sign says that you’d be taken to court and fined five thousand dollars. I assume they must decide the “recommended” and “mandatory” ratings based on how dangerous they think the bears are. I wonder how they work this out. Emma says I’ve developed an unhealthy paranoia about bears.
I’m feeling a bit seedy, and this gets a lot worse by the time we get back to Banff. The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. I remember the nurse at the Banff Hospital asking me if I
was a victim of domestic violence before she hooked me up to a drip. I’m not quite sure how domestic violence gives you the stomach flu, but she’s a nurse and I’m not so I decide that it might be better not to argue.
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