Finally Seeing the Fictitious Rockies

I’ve lost count how many times I’ve flown over the Canadian Rockies.  And I almost stopped believing they existed.

Because for the past 20 years, whenever I flew over them, this is typically what I’d see.

Every.   Freaking.   Time.

But FINALLY,  on my recent ski trip last month, the skies were clear and I got to see these elusive peaks.

Flying west from Calgary, the change from rolling prairie/foothills to jagged peaks is quite abrupt.

a

a

We flew right over the town of Canmore, which is the gateway to Banff.

a

And of course the clouds started again, but I still caught a few good glimpses of some peaks.

a

Flying back,  I lucked out again, and got to see the mountains from the plane for the 2nd time in almost two decades.

This shot is from Interior BC.   The white zebra-stripes are all previous avalanches.

a

Which gives you an idea of why you hear about many fatalities when people go into the back-country.

Our flight path took us right over southern BC back towards Calgary, through some ice fields.

a

a

a

a

a

a

I believe this is Rogers Pass.

a

When compared to a screen shot from Google Map, it seems to agree.

Rogers Pass looks so tame from the air.   But at ground level, it’s not so easy.

Last year I drove through it in late March, and talk about a white-knuckle drive.

Single lane,  slush and snow, black ice and rocks literally falling on the road right in front of me.

Not to mention a truck accident that had closed the highway for hours.

Though it gave Junior Bear a chance to stretch his legs.

a

A Field in Tilley, Alberta

Guest post by Friar’s Mom

I stood motionless in the northeast corner of a field in Tilley, Alberta.  My friends were but small dark dots in the distant southwest corner of this huge acreage.  The early morning April sun felt warm on my dark brown winter coat.  A few small fluffy clouds dotted the blue sky at the horizon.  Tiny blades of green grass peeked through the dry winter stubble beneath me.  Spring had finally arrived in the Prairies.

For a long time I watched the vehicles whiz by me and loom towards me on the Trans Canada.  I saw 18 wheelers, auto transporters, tankers, empty flatbeds, farm equipment, tow trucks, pickups, police cars, vans, cars.  I noticed a blue Honda CRV.  The woman inside turned her head to look at me as she drove by. She continued to stare at me through her rear view mirror.

She was happy that I had taken time to enjoy my day, yet she was also sad for me.  She knew something of my future that I didn’t know.  Earlier in the day she passed an empty cattle transporter truck.  Tufts of hay protruded through the vent holes.  Those vent holes told another story–horizontal streaks of dried cattle dung clung to the outside of the transporter.  She knew one day, I would take a ride in a similar vehicle.  Yet she wouldn’t tell me where I would travel.  She told me to enjoy the present.

My life had been–chew, chew, chew, poo, poo, poo.  I was tired of the monotony, and finally dared to try something different.  The woman was happy that I had found a new interest.  She was proud of me because I had the courage to be different.  She suggested that I share my new-found joy with some of my friends.

This evening I’ll ask a friend to join me in the northwest corner of the field.  We’ll stand motionless and watch the moving vehicles become silhouette specks against the setting sun.  Perhaps tomorrow some more of my friends will join me.

Travels with the Bear: Where the buffalo roam (or fly).

Any guesses as to how they traditionally hunted buffalo hundreds of years ago?

I think the sign pretty much explains it.

For more information, check out www.head-smashed-in.com.

It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site, no less.

(Regardless of what happened to the poor buffalo, it’s still a pretty cool name for a web page, you gotta admit).

…………………………………….

Never let it be said, that I don’t take the Bear to “interesting” places.

(Can you spot him?)