Parks!

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After leaving Dianne's, we drove up the 23 highway, but as we saw no campgrounds, we just pulled off in an exceptionally large rest stop. There were a bunch of semi-trucks, and a smattering of other motor homes. The air was full of fluff! The trees next door were shedding so many seeds that it looked like it was snowing every time the wind blew. We played rummy by lamp-light and called it an early night.

The next morn, as we were preparing to depart, we noticed that some of our fellow intinerants were having a bit of trouble getting their rv to start. Of course we rolled up beside them and pulled out the jumper cables, ready to be of assistance. Two men and a woman, all on their way to their family reunion, and grateful that someone with cables was around. (I don't think they'dve been in too much trouble even without us. There were a lot of other people around, and we were only a short walk from a collection of gas stations. All the same it felt nice to be able to help out. They pressed $20 Canadian on us, even though we turned them down about 5 times.)

Not content with just one good deed for the day, we proceeded onto Revelstoke and Glacier National Parks, stopping in at the Rogers Pass visitor center, right in the middle of a serious avalanche zone. Jess went on in to get us park passes, and Rascal and I went for a walk.

Here's the next two pieces of our triple whammy good deed day. Firstly we stopped a family of tourists from feeding junk food to the ground squirrels. (Honestly. Right in front of the visitor center, and literally about 12 feet from a sign saying DO NOT FEED THE WILDLIFE. They were sweet folks, but their behavior and appearance were so stereotypically "clueless tourist" that it felt almost cartoonish.)

Secondly, and more satisfyingly, we may have saved the life of a little juvenile northern waterthrush. As Rascal and I walked around the building, we observed a raven acting oddly - hopping up close to the building, jabbing his beak against the wall, and generally acting aggressive. He didn't clear off until we were almost on top of him, and even then he only went off about 10 feet and kept hopping surreptitiously closer again. Huddled against the building was a little brown and cream-striped bird. He was as scared of the dog and I as he was of the raven, and he kept shuffle-limping onward along the wall away from us. Eventually we herded him into the corner formed by the wall and the open door to the gift shop and stood guard to keep the raven from grabbing him again.

At last, Jessica came out, and I promptly turned her around and sent her back in to fetch a ranger. Then there was a brief palaver as we had three young rangers, in varying combos, work up a way to get the bird inside - basically, wear gloves, grab him gently, stick him in a box. It seemed an awful lot of fuss for a fairly simple task. Any case, I put Rascal away, Jessie and I both toured the visitor center, and as we left, one of the rangers found us again to assure us that the bird would be looked after. I hope he recovered alright.

We drove through Yoho next, paying a visit to Wapta Falls along the way. Quite a pleasant hike, though the trail narrows dramatically sometimes, and it is hard to pass when someone is coming the other way. There are all sorts of little side trails though, where people have cut off the main path in order to avoid mud or the really tree-rooted areas, so we generally just switched over to one of those when someone approached. On the way to Banff, Jessie saw an elk, and while we both saw signs about wolf presence in one area, we saw no wolves. (Not very surprisingly.) Gorgeous summer scenery everywhere though. Banff town was full of people, but hey, we were there in the high season, so it was only to be expected. We stayed at Tunnel Mountain campground, where, again, Rascal was tormented by the ground squirrels. They were everywhere in that campground, and they'd pop up just a few yards beyond the maximum range of his leash and chitter. Poor dog's eyes almost bugged out the first few times that happened.

One last good samaritan act: When I took Rascal out on the lovely and extensive hiking trail, we ended up at an overlook off the highway. A group of folks next to me were admiring the view, and I overheard one of them say as they readied to depart, "Too bad we still haven't found out why it's called Tunnel Mountain." Apparently, their guidebook had said there was a story behind the name, but hadn't elaborated, and they hadn't seen anything explaining it all day either.

I knew the reason, though, and I passed it on. Y'see, when we were up here a decade ago, we picked up one of the most amusing books we own, When Do You Let the Animals Out? A Field Guide to Rocky Mountain Humor. It features an extensive section on place names, incuding the story of how a certain mountain face was surveyed during the planning stages of a railroad, and was selected as an excellent site for a tunnel. Then some other surveyor, one with a lick of common sense, thought it might be good idea to go check the other side of the mountain to see whether it would also be a good site. Long story short, it wasn't, but the name Tunnel Mountain stuck regardless.

We took a morning hike at Two Jack Lake, where we saw millions, perhaps billions of mayflies. They kept landing on my hair and getting tangled. It was obviously a popular spot for people too. When we started the hike, there were only a few people out by the water's edge. When we came back, it resembled a southern California beach in summer! Afterwards, we moved to Lake Louise. The bear protocols there were fierce. If you weren't staying in a hard-sided vehicle, you had to camp with your tent or pop-up inside a massive electrified fence. Even the cattle-guard affair at the entrance was electrified, meaning that pedestrians had to go through a specially designed gate to get anywhere. We were over in the other area, but we went on walks to the protected zone, and it was pretty intense. One of the walks we went over on was to go see an interpretive program called Harlequin Romance, Grizzly Mysteries, and the Disappearing Caribou. We missed the first part, about the courtship rituals of the Harlequin Duck, but the grizzly mystery was an examination of why bears get hit more often on certain stretches of railway and what can be done to prevent it. The disappearing caribou story was depressing - there are no caribou in Banff. There used to be an immense herd, until it was hunted to near extinction, then there was a conservation program, then the herd got sick and its numbers were drastically reduced, then it began to recover again... then the entire herd was wiped out by a massive avalanche. A rather depressing story, though fortunately we had a good time talking to the Ranger afterwards. She told us about a guided hike around Lake Louise the next day, so we made plans accordingly.

Lake Louise is gorgeous. Seriously, for sheer "WOW" factor, it's very high on the list of things we've seen this trip. We spent about 45 minutes waiting for the Ranger to show... but she didn't. We didn't have the time wrong or anything, as other people were waiting too. Eventually we just did the hike ourselves. It was a beautifully sunny day, and we had a great time counting the little tiny trout we saw as we walked. (The Stony Nakota tribe who lived there once called it "The Lake of Little Fishes." Our Field Guide to Rocky Mountain humor says this was a mistranslation, and that the name was actually "The Lake of Reeaally Little Fishes".

Rascal picked up his fair share of smiles on the way out, but on the way back, he went way over his daily quota. He picked up a stick, and carried it jauntily in his mouth for about half of the return trip, and literally everyone we passed smiled delightedly at his happy demeanor.

Another walk, however well it ended up, was not a very good idea. Jessica took the dog for a walk around the Lake Louise campground. First she was walking by the road and the town, but after crossing a bridge, she ended up alone in the forest - and on the trail was scat. Bear scat. Grizzly bear scat. Fresh grizzly bear scat. She talked as loudly as possible the whole way back, she says. I'm just glad neither she nor the dog was eaten.

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Photos

Iron and Gall
Just look at the size of that thing. It's ridiculous.

Cascade
Wapta Falls.

Soft Light
Two Jack Lake

Frolicsome Fauna
Nature photographer, I am not. Thank goodness for subjects that hold still and chitter!

Lake Louise
This was one of the prettiest places we've seen thus far.