Jasper Time…

With Isi doing most of the carrying of the heavy bags from the room to the ground floor (the Americans and Canadians call it the first floor) and then on to the hotel trolley, we mounted our possessions to the bikes and rode off full of expectation for a grand few days - it was Jasper time!

Obviously, the mundane always featured and not knowing where the next fuel or grocery store would be, we fuelled up and filled the panniers as much as we could. Calimoto set and it was time to explore the road to Maligne Lake. The weather was great and the roads relatively clear, as seems to be the norm for visiting places outside of season. We explored numerous side roads and vistas that the river from Maligne Lake (and others) had created, with deep pockets of silent flowing water, to crashing rapids that squeezed through canyons, all against the backdrop of towering mountains with snow crowning the tops like icing sugar on a crafted birthday cake.

One of the first views that greet you in the Jasper Park.

After numerous hours, we passed Medicine Lake and reached Maligne Lake - the end of the road. Even for out of season, the car park was full and what was available was not suitable to park a bike. Even without luggage, we have to look for areas that are flat, or at least flattish horizontally. The gears will hold the bike facing up or down hill, but the stand must not allow the bike to lean too far or not far enough. We not only look for a space but also a suitable space. So, we parked our bikes near the bridge that also happened to afford the best views with the least amount of effort.

Whilst taking photos and enjoying the vista, Isi met Elaine and started talking. Once again the licence plates had drawn the initial communication and conversation flowed. Elaine was being treated for breast cancer and between the two monthly sessions of chemo, she was out in the camper van making her own memories of adventures. A shared experience and a shared determination to live one life with no regrets.

It was time to head back down the road we had travelled and marvel on the same views but from a different perspective. Just as with life, it pays to view things from a different perspective and the surprises it can throw up, with this being no exception. As we reached the top of Medicine Lake, the traffic slowed and just stopped for no apparent reason. Before I explain, you need to understand a little about Medicine lake and how this has a bearing on what we viewed. Before road or rail became the primary routes, the rivers and lakes were the easiest routes to ship resources up and down the mountains, with Medicine Lake being no different. However, the water level would drop more than 50ft during the Spring and Autumn, with less water entering during the summer months. Engineers spent many years trying to solve the problem but eventually gave up and resigned to the fact the outward end of the lake leaked like a sieve and could not be stopped.

So… the water level was at its lowest, with rivers running across the exposed shallow end of the lake. The salmon were used to this and saw no problem in continuing their migration to their spawning grounds. This attracted fisherman who would park on the road, climb down the banks and wander across the dried mud. This also attracted the bears in their pursuit of calorie rich salmon to see them through the hard winter to come. So, why had everyone stopped? Down on the mudflats, there was a fisherman doing what he does best; and a bear walking toward him. We had all stopped to just watch. There was nothing any of us could do as the distances were too far (for photos too) and the terrain too hard to make any intervention possible. The fisherman walked away from his fishing box (that presumably had fish in it) and carried on fishing. The bear then decided to just sit down and stare at all the cars (and us) watching from above. And so it remained for many minutes until we got bored and decided to move on. We subsequently learned that the bears had learned a new trick to fishing for salmon. Let the fishermen do the hard work and then raid their catch. Whether this is what happened this time, we will never know but it did seem to be a game both were used to playing.

Then it was off to the Wapiti campground and the pitch we had taken ages to book the day before - apparently, a reservation only site, so we reserved. To do so, I had to sign up to a Canadian Gateway pass and then make the reservation - $11 booking fee and “optional” firewood automatically included and could not be removed. Anyway, besides all that, we had a very quiet corner of a large campground. The firewood was waiting for us beside the fire pit and, after the tent was pitched, flames were providing the heat needed as the sun slid away behind the towering mountains.

We knew from the reservation that bear-boxes were provided but we did not know where they were. With stuffed bearbag tied on the back of the bike I tore off, wearing Crocs, in search. The Denali spots linked to the Hex Innovate EzCan turned night in to day as I managed the gravel turns and probably upset many other campers with my portable sun. Me? I was cold but having fun! Box finally found, filled and I headed for a warm fire and cozy sleeping bag but not before marvelling at the stars enveloping the mountains like a cloak of Elven mithril, light, dark, strong and protecting. Despite the lights from the numerous RV’s, the Jasper ‘dark sky’ award was living up to its name.

The morning found frost on the bikes. The day had provided light but the sun was yet to make itself felt as the shadow was slow to fall from the opposite mountains and crawl across the valley floor toward us. Isi got the fire re-lit as I fired up the MSR Dragonfly stove for morning tea, coffee and porridge, preparing for a ride through Jasper Park and the campsite further down the road. The plan was to camp further in and then retrace for the roads we had not done yesterday and more besides.

The ride through the Park is stunning, awesome, majestic and many, many more superlatives than we could recall or the `English language can cater for. If the Eskimos have 100 words for snow, the Canadians must have 1000 for mountains. Our feeling of euphoria of our surroundings changed as the first campsite was closed, as was the second. By this time, we had reached the point of no return and had to turn back for fear of running out of fuel. Back toward Jasper and the Wapiti campground, in the hope we could book on entry. No problem, said the man on the gate and provided us for the 3 nights stay near the bear box and pointed us toward the free wood - all without the $11 booking fee!

Sam Manicom always delights his audiences by saying how many times he has packed up in the morning, to travel 20 minutes down the road to pitch in yet another great spot. Well, we have you beat, as we pitched our tent in the same campsite as the one we had left earlier. Tent packed, gear stowed and off we went to explore Pyramid Lake in the 28C heat - once again, marvelling at the magnificence appearing before our eyes. I was still very wary on my legs and whilst Isi no longer needed to guide me on and off the bike, I couldn’t walk far, especially where steps were concerned.

Paddle boarding in 28C with snow capped mountains in the background

The day was drawing to a close, so back to the tent and another roaring fire - not afraid of running out of wood as we could walk and collect what we needed, when we needed it! For a challenge, I cooked bangers and mash - but no gravy. I need to work on the gravy…

As I emerged from the tent to welcome the cold, clear morning of the next day, I was greeted by a female Elk grazing her way across the middle of the campsite, not bothered by the RV’s tents and many people now appearing with cameras raised - I was no different. Soon after she left, a male Elk with resplendent antlers followed the same track across the site, sniffing and tasting the air as he pursued his instinctive urges.

The male sniffs and tastes the scent of the female - it’s that time of year!

This is a busy campsite yet the Elks don’t mind.

Slowly the sun crept its way across the ground and we were ready to go and explore again. The twisty, mountain roads beckoned as we took each small road to its end and then to return. As we reached the end of the road for Mount Edith Cavell, Isi explained there was a short, but steep climb up to the the glacier and the lake. I was really unsteady on my feet, took my time but eventually made it - the scenery was worth every step as we looked upon the vista of many textures and colours. As with every other day, the days are very hot, so we chose to remove sweaty bike boots and socks and soak in the glacial run-off stream next to the car park. I could only manage a mere few seconds as the ice-cold water felt like fire and I just wasn’t prepared to suffer the pain!

Gazing across the valley at the top of the Edith Cavell short climb

The next and final stop on the old highway, was the Athabasca Falls and even at the time of year when the water would be at its lowest, the falls were impressive and still attracted the numerous visitors we found ourselves negotiating.

As the afternoon rolled on, we decided to head back to the tent, change our clothes and catch the shuttle bus in to Jasper for some much needed laundry. As we were at the end of the season, the shuttle bus was free which contributed to a little snack as the washing tumbled…

The previous evening, we had new neighbours on CRF 250’s. A young, Dutch couple who were travelling the width of Canada in 7 months. They had chosen not to pay for the ‘optional’ wood, though had to argue their case at the gate. It would seem the ‘optional’ wood is not really optional unless you fight for it. So…. Rather than have their own fire, they came and joined us. A perfect arrangement for an evening well spent.

The following morning, we were awoken by a squall of howling winds and gusting rain. The apocalypse had started and we had missed the memo. The sides of the tent blew down in to our faces, as we scrabbled for head-torches and clothing. There was an almighty crack and bang that could be heard above the wind and rain, and the tent deformed. By this time, I was in the porch area and pressing my back against the sides to retain some shape. Quite what I was hoping to achieve I don’t know, though I was doing something…

Just as quick as the squall started, it ended and peace returned - time to survey the scene of doom and destruction outside - at least that is what we were expecting. But no, the scene outside was normal as people emerged from their tents and RV’s. That is until I saw the pine tree laying across the tent guy-lines and pushing the side of the porch down to the ground. The tree had snapped about 12 foot up the trunk, with the vast majority now laying on the ground. No real harm done as I managed to retrieve the pegs and check over the tent - tree-proof, it would seem.

All packed and ready to head out, I said to Isi that I would stop at the gate and just let them know a tree was down. Without any hesitation, he offered me a full refund on our stay, even though I had stated there was no harm done to fabric or person. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and processed the refund to the card, as he filled in the form for the camp records. I don’t know how many trees fall on to tents, but there is a form for it…

Just a few more images from random places over the last few days.

I’ve used all the superlatives I could possibly muster for the scenery around us as we headed South on the one road in and out of Jasper National Park and on to the Icefields Parkway. Let it be known that with every corner a new and awesome vista was laid for eyes to feast on and our comms to relay the oohs and ahhs.

What are we doing?

Ready. Steady. Cook!