PG ‘25 - The Ancient Forest

Sorry for the delay in posting - it did not take very much camping time to get to the “what day is this again?” stage.

We have been at a campground called MamaYeh, 15 min south of Prince George, the ‘northern capital’ of British Columbia. Tomorrow we pull up stakes and head three hours west and a smidgen North to Burns Lake to visit our niece, but we wanted a couple days to see what was in this area (and to break up the 11 hour drive time from Edmonton). And even without flush toilets, it is a lovely campsite, with a great host.

One of the things to see is an amazing inland rainforest, at B.C.‘s newest provincial park, Chun T’oh Whudujut. It turns out you don’t have to drive out to Clayuquot on Vancouver Island to witness immense, 1000-year-old cedars.

There is an accessible boardwalk with minimal elevation change, but lured upward with the promise of a waterfall, we instead opted for the larger loop with a lot more climbing than I’d anticipated. 

The footing is sure on a sturdy boardwalk and steps, all built and maintained by volunteers.

It is very dense off the boardwalk, and I can only imagine how easy it would be to get lost in terrain like this, and wondering what sort of fauna is lurking just out of sight in the underbrush.

At one point, Canéla stopped pulling ahead on her leash and drew back with a low growl, which I found unnerving. Another dog would have made her bark, as would any small mammals like a squirrel or mouse. I looked intently ahead, and saw nothing, so I coaxed her forward again, but once more she balked, growling more loudly.

“What is it girl? What’s the matter?” I asked, knowing full well a response of any kind was unlikely. Once more I peered into the low brush surrounding the immense cedar trunks, following a dry creekbed heading downhill to our right. Surely not big enough for a bear or cougar, was it?

Audrey drew up behind us and asked, “hey, is she scared of the knot coming out of that stump? The one that looks kind of like a birds head?”

Sure enough, that’s what it was - and I was so relieved I never even thought to take a picture!

No injuries or wildlife encounters, but we were all pretty tired by the time we got back to the Lander. But the waterfall really is worth the effort.

Texans Meet Belugas

Most visitors to Churchill, Manitoba, even in the heat of summer, hope to get a glimpse of a polar bear.

But not the Carrolls - a family from Texas that Audrey and I met on the train from Thompson.

The Carrolls were seated across the aisle from the two of us, their seats facing each other. They were grandmother Marge, her son Michael, daughter-in-law Stephanie, and their young adult son Sean (and I hope I didn't misspell these names too badly!).

From what I understood, they had driven all the way from Arlington, Texas, to Thompson so they could take the train to where they could view beluga whales in the wild. I recall perhaps one or more of them disliked flying, and since flights into Churchill are pretty expensive anyways, why not road trip it?

Michael and Stephanie were pretty close in age to Audrey and I, and all the Carrolls were extremely nice people. Since Audrey and I had made this rail pilgrimage on four previous occasions, we were only too happy to outline what to expect, how the reclining seats worked and how to get the conductor to rotate one of their seat pairs to give them a bit more leg room.

I learned that Marge had been the impetus for the trip, and that seeing beluga whales in their natural environment had been on her bucket list for years. I was astonished, stating how amazing it was that they had (effectively) travelled from one of the largest non-oceanic water bodies in North America (the Gulf of Mexico) to the other (Hudson Bay) to witness such a whimsical animal. That is nearly 1800 miles! At any rate, we exchanged phone numbers so that if they needed anything or had any other questions once in town, we could try to help.

Our train pulled into Churchill around 10:30 Tuesday morning, and the Carrolls made their way to the Seaport Hotel - conveniently, the same place their bus for the beluga zodiac tour would pick them up the next day, before catching the train back Thursday evening. Meanwhile, my cousin Parker picked us up and brought us to his house before he boarded the southbound train that very same evening, as he was flying to meet his girlfriend in Costa Rica the next day.

In addition to letting us stay in the house he had recently remodeled, Parker had also graciously left us the use of a vehicle, which gave me an idea. I texted Stephanie and asked if they wanted a quick drive around Churchill the next day, to see some of the attractions you can't reach on foot. She quickly agreed and we arranged to meet up late the next morning. 

Sean elected to stay home, but when I got to the Seaport, the other three were raring to go, so I drove them past the port to Cape Merry (the blue "1") on the map.

This is a gun battery intended to help defend the harbour along with the imposing Fort Prince of Wales (5) across the Churchill River. There is also a memorial cairn for Jens Munk, the Danish explorer who came here seeking the Northwest Passage in 1619, but returned home with only two other members of his 64-man crew after a brutal winter on the shores of Hudson Bay.

But we were there for the belugas, because from the battery you can not only see them clearly in the river, you are close enough to hear them too.

The Carrolls at Cape Merry

Marge was thrilled, snapping pictures with her 3 or 400mm lens and recording some video. Michael and I walked out to the cairn and I discovered he was also quite a Rush fan, which I found delightful.

Stephanie and Marge must have spent 40 minutes entranced by the frolicking cetaceans, but there was more to see, and of course, a closer encounter with them scheduled for later that day. We drove out to the Churchill Northern Studies Centre and the old rocket range, driving past the rusting hulk of the MV Ithaca just offshore, and also made our way over to see Miss Piggy, the wreck of a C-47 cargo plane.

And it was somewhere on that drive that Marge told me the story that explained precisely why she was so fascinated by beluga whales, and I apologize for any details I have incorrect here.

Many years ago, the family had visited Sea World in San Antonio. Fascinated by the white whales even then, they had either wandered into or stayed in the amphitheatre while one of the belugas was swimming, and he began interacting with them. Marge had apparently been encouraging him to spit water out of his tank and into the seating area, when one of the trainers came by to explain they really shouldn't be there. But as sometimes happens, they ended up chatting him up, learned this particular male whale's name was Beethoven, and I believe Stephanie ended up onstage or helping with the next performance.

Years later at a different aquarium (I want to say Chicago?), Marge was looking at belugas through an underwater window. One of them was 'standing' nearly vertically in the water, looking directly through the glass at Marge, his fins almost looking like they could be waving at her. 

Marge asked a trainer if the whale was able to see her, and when she saw which whale it was, she said, "oh yeah, Beethoven? He's a lover, that one."

It turns out that being a male beluga capable of breeding while in captivity placed Beethoven in high demand, and Marge encountered him a third time at yet another facility elsewhere in the U.S. 

Now, could you prove that this highly intelligent sea mammal could not only see this lady from Texas, but also remember and recognize her? Of course not. But Marge thinks he could and I believe Marge, so as far as I am concerned that settles it.

All the Carrolls were very grateful for a chance to get a little ways out of town and see some of the surrounding area and thanked me profusely when I dropped tham back off at their hotel, but in truth, I was just returning some of the enormous privilege of having been taken to all of those places (and more!) on my previous visits. I appreciated a small chance to pay it forward.

The next day, the four of us made our way down to the Seaport for our own beluga excursion, and saw the family from Texas sitting outside as they waited for the train to arrive from Thompson so they could board it. They'd had a wonderful time on their own zodiac tour the day before, but again made sure to thank me for showing them the other sights. 

I think there is a pretty good chance they may come back some time in the future to take the Tundra Buggy tour and perhaps see Churchill's main animal attraction as well, but helping someone scratch an experience off their bucket list after such a long journey was tremendously gratifying!

Glory finally caught a beluga smile!

From Kananaskis to Cabbagetown: Adventures with the Firstborn and Family

As milestones go, moving out on your own is kind of a biggie, even more so when the family unit is as tight as ours can be. But at least we got to have one last camping trip as a family!

After the apartment was procured and shipping container packed and sent to Toronto, we were all set to go camping in Kananaskis for the first time. Bobby and Fenya took the Toyota so they could get some time with his family at their time-share in Fairmont and joined us in Sheep River Provincial Park the day after we arrived.

And this was a good thing, since we are heavy packers and even the Flex would have strained to carry all five of us, plus Canéla, plus all our gear! I swear, if I ever buy a vehicle without roof racks again, please feel free to slap me.

Anyhow, our campsite was only about 20 minutes west of Turner Valley (officially now Diamond Valley, since it amalgamated with its neighbour Black Diamond). A fairly rustic affair, with "vault toilets" (aka outhouses) but very well treed and a comfort station not too far away with showers and sinks.

My trailer-backing-in skills won't win me any awards but it has been a few trips now since I have needed to use the nose wheel, so getting the Bride of Frankentrailer into position on the hitch was fairly satisfying. We had gotten take-out from Cluck n Cleaver in Calgary on our way through (great chicken but not a trailer-friendly location!) so there was no need for cooking on night one, and it took less than an hour for Audrey, Glory and I to have everything pretty much where we wanted it.

The next afternoon, Vera brought Oma and Auntie Alice from High River to the campsite for a visit, which meant they also got a chance to say goodbye to Fenya and Bobby when they arrived from B.C. It was a hot afternoon and we were grateful of the sun shade we had set up. They accepted our invitation to stay for dinner and I grilled up some steaks for us all.

Over the next few days we toodled around Turner Valley and Black Diamond, went to Okotoks (to look for a replacement griddle as I had left ours in the garage) and explored our corner of Kananaskis Country (which requires an additional pass now, like national parks do).

I was thrilled to enjoy a couple of pints with Bobby at Hard Knox Brewery in Black Diamond while the ladies shopped. The Frontier Chocolate Hazelnut beer we shared is excellent (and 9.8% abv!), as was the carrot cake sour he had and the Banana Bown ale I enjoyed.

There is a fair amount to see around Sheep River, including "forest cows", some delightful gorges and a waterfall. The area has an extensive trail network that looked amazing but I was frankly too lazy to countenance.

the "Big Rock" at Okotoks

Sheep River Falls

Glory demanded a "mermaid" picture on this rock

Canéla on the trail...of what?

The rare and elusive forest cow

Mostly though, we enjoyed hanging around the campsite together, playing games, enjoying meals, roasting smokies and marshmallows together and getting in some hammock time.

On our very last night, we endured a truly immense thunderstorm complete with hail. Thankfully the shade held back most of the moisture and the Bride was undamaged, as everyone waited inside for me to cook up some Hamburger Helper on the camp stove.

Afterwards we set up the iPad and a Bluetooth speaker inside the trailer and watched The Fellowship of the Rings while the torrent continued. Sure, the quarters are a bit cramped and not having snacks in a trailer impacts the experience, but you know, I have had worse times for sure.

Morning!

Packing up the chairs, shelter and trailer the next day while still damp was no picnic either, but honestly, still far better than a tent on the ground, and we were ready to go by a little after noon, and headed into Turner Valley for a late breakfast at the Chuckwagon Cafe. It was great food but a long wait, so we ended up killing time at the Eau Claire Distillery a few doors away.

After an afternoon breakfast we parted ways again, briefly, as the newlyweds headed to High River to go see the chuckwagon races with Auntie Vera that night, while Glory, Audrey and I took the Bride back to Edmonton for unpacking and drying out.

That was a little over a week ago. 

On Friday, three nights ago, our backyard hosted a farewell party for Fenya and Bobby. 

Saturday night my sister Tara came for a roast beef supper and we said so long for real. The flight to TO (with Bobby's family going along to help with unloading the Pod!) was early the next morning. It was a positive but very emotional night, because we are a pretty tight unit and we recognize the significance of this change.

And look, if you know me, then you know I am not a guy who does well with change. And the truth is, I have been dreading this moment for years now. But I also recognize the neccessity of moving on and the wonderful opportunities awaiting them at the Center of the Universe (TM).

And we are all thrilled that they have a nice place in an exciting city, and that Fenya received a job offer with George Brown College, so that is one less thing to worry about!

There they are, at the edge of Cabbagetown, sleeping on an air mattress and scrubbing down their new place in anticipation of the Pod arriving tomorrow. Then discovering the wind chime and spirits sampler Audrey had covertly procured on our trip and sent along with them in their luggage.

And I am too busy being happy and excited and proud for there to be too much room for melancholy to get a foot in.

And very grateful to have a family that has enjoyed the camping trips we have taken together (including our most excellent son-in-law), and even more appreciative that we had one last opportunity to go to the edge of the mountains together!

Writing-on-Stone: Sandstone Cliffs and Petroglyphs

I had known since probably elementary school that there were indigenous carvings in the rocks in Southern Alberta. But I had no idea just how culturally significant these petroglyphs were until we visited Writing-on-Stone/Áísínaiʼpi.

The Sweetgrass Hills just over the border in Montana are a sacred place to the Blackfoot people, and they also believe that spirits inhabit the hoodoos and rock formations in the coulees of Writing-on-Stone. Because of this, not just anyone was allowed to write on the rocks - these are not just jottings or musings or recollections (although some are biographic in nature), but the products of visions, sometimes obtained under trying circumstances.

You can hike on your own to see the Battle Scene petroglyph I mentioned in my previous post, but to see the majority of the most significant carvings, you need to take a guided tour into a restricted area of the park -an archaeological preserve. At $19 a person, this is a bargain, and I heartily recommend anyone visiting the park for even a day to take advantage of it.

Thanks to COVID we couldn't take a bus down from the Visitor's Centre. Instead, we and the eight other participants formed a mini-convoy in our own vehicles and followed our interpreter, Laura, past the gate and descending down to a gravel parking area close to the Writing-on-Stone Rodeo Grounds (fun fact - Alberta singer/songwriter Corb Lund competed there in his youth).

After a short briefing on rattlesnake safety in which we were assured that no one in Alberta has ever died of a snakebite (and that there is actually more danger due to bacteria from their dirty fangs than their venom - ick), we set off. It was a short walk up some stairs to a plateau with benches facing the canyon walls, and Laura stood below the first panel, pointing out details with her walking stick.

We were lucky to have Laura - she has degrees in both archaeology and geography as I recall, but more importantly, she possesses a genuine passion and respect for indigenous culture and history which she was eager to share with us.

Over the next hour, she pointed out many details to us about the elements of the various panels we were viewing. A little of this I already knew, like how the horses brought here by the Spaniards predated the arrival of Europeans to the plains and had a tremendous impact on the lives of people living here in the 1700s. In some of the petroglyphs, you can see figures behind large discs which we now know are full-body shields that stretched from shoulder to ankle. These were abandoned once warriors and hunters took to riding horses instead. (Fun fact - the Blackfoot language had no word for horse, so their name for them means "elk-dog.")

These pictures do a poor job of conveying the content, but you might recognize some elements - v-necked people, a buffalo, a beaver. 

Much of what we learned was new to me though, like the idea that the spiritual nature of the carvings meant that Blackfoot Medicine Men stated they could change overnight. They sought wisdom and augury from them, believing they could warn of nearby enemies or dire outcomes of battles.

Just below and to the right of the centre of the picture above is something that looks like an axe (or a hockey stick, as is often volunteered to Laura) and something that looks like a broom. Archaeologists puzzled over these until a Blackfoot elder explained that the first item was in fact a medicine pipe and the second a type of offering pole topped with feathers and stuck in the ground at a ceremony called an All-Night Smoke, variations of which are still done today.

The round impact marks are in fact bullet holes, presumably from the North West Mounted Police outpost located directly across the river. A replica of the outpost was recreated at the mouth of Police Coulee in 1975, making the view far more similar to what it had been over a century ago.

There is settler content on the rocks as well, as NWMP officers, ranchers landowners and travellers felt compelled to add their marks to the writings. Work is being done to remove more modern graffiti, but anything inscribed prior to 1957 (the founding of the park) is considered historical and allowed to remain.

Looking at more panels, we learned how only spiritual beings are given eyes in these carvings, and how the interpretation of one of the carvings has moved from depicting a creature like a fish or fox to perhaps being a landscape, specifically the Sweetgrass Hills to the south of us.

The oldest of the petroglyphs are estimated to be 3500-5000 years old, but one of the most intriguing is actually the most recent. It clearly depicts wheeled vehicles and passengers but its precise date and origin was a mystery until a chance discovery of a photo less than 15 years ago. At an academic conference, the picture, which showed an indigenous man in a headdress carving the sandstone, was shown to a scholar who had worked at Writing-on-Stone and who immediately recognized the panel.

In his work as a road engineer on a Blackfoot reserve in Montana in the early 1920s, Roland Willcomb met several elders and became fascinated by tales of this spiritual place, a place where the spirits spoke through stone and where ghosts lived. He fought for permission for two of the elders, Bird Rattle and Split Ears, to leave the reservation and guide him there. After multiple denials and a persistent nagging of the federal officials, a pass was finally granted, and the three of them, plus an interpreter, made their way to Áísínaiʼpi in September of 1924.

The two elders had visited there as boys in the 1860s, and provided great insights into many of the petroglyphs, including naming one of the combat scenes as the Retreating-Up-the-Hill Battle. A second car containing some of Willcomb's friends joined them at the site as well.

As they prepared to leave, the two elders were grateful to have had the opportunity to return, but saddened at the thought they would likely never have the chance to return. Bird Rattle felt moved to depict their visit, and used a piece of quartz to depict the two Model-T Fords that had brought the group to Áísínaiʼpi. As he did, Willcomb took the picture that answered so many questions.

Bird Rattle's name features prominently in many of the exhibits in the park's visitors centre, and apparently, he was able to return to Writing-on-Stone twice more prior to his death in 1937.

This tale really resonated with us -  a strange connection linking a white engineer to a Peigan elder in the early 20th century, involving a Blackfoot sacred site with petroglyphs dating back further than three millennia, and only discovered in modern times because of the random discovery of a photo at an estate sale. Why hasn't anyone made this into a movie yet? Or at least a Heritage Minute?

On our way back to camp, we took a moment to survey the landscape from a viewpoint overlooking Police Coulee. It is compelling in a way that is difficult for me to articulate. It is not difficult to imagine being here in the late 1800s, when the NWMP maintained a presence here to maintain the border while battling boredom, and while Blackfoot warriors made their way back and forth across a mystical "medicine line" that appeared to confound their pursuers (but which was actually the 49th parallel).

Or you can cast your mind back even further, to pre-colonial times, when indigenous peoples came here to rest, to hunt, and to commune with the spirits. Truly an amazing place that we are privileged to have here in Alberta - very few sites have the ability to convey visitors through time as well as space in the way that Writing-on-Stone does.

Hoodoos, Horseshoe, Hot Dog, and Pizza

There were still a few sights to be seen in our last couple of days in Drumheller:

The Hoodoos, which now have a much better infrastructure that facilitates both viewing and protection.

The Atlas Suspension Bridge, built when the Atlas coal mine got tired of bringing their workers across the Red Deer River by crane.

This viewpoint, which appears on no map, but can be accessed by driving straight through the hamlet of Rosedale, out the other side, past yet another mine, and up a steep hill. Considering how prehistoric or Wild West most of the scenery around Drumheller is, I found myself wondering if early settlers perhaps found it reminiscent of Wales or Ireland.

The World's Largest Dinosaur, which left us feeling a bit down in the mouth (sorry, had to be done).

Assorted dinosaurs of downtown Drumheller.

Horseshoe Canyon, another amazing bit of Alberta topography.

And that just about brought us to the end of our adventures in the Drumheller valley. The 30+ heat dampened our enthusiasm a little, but we managed to see everything we wanted to, and have some unstructured time back at the campsite too.

Despite having a fire going though, we were so disinterested in cooking or cleaning up on our last night that we indulged Glory's request to order the Megasaurus from Bernie and the Boys Bistro.

This 16" brute of a pizza weighs in at an astonishing eight pounds and took over an hour to cook.

The cross section looks more like a deli sandwich than a pizza, and while you didn't quite have t unhinge your jaw like a snake in order to take a bite, shy eaters need not apply:

Once home and unpacked, the next order of business was washing the desert-like dust out of our faithful hound.

Thankfully he doesn't put up too much of a fight at bathtime.

And the results speak for themselves!

I'm confident (and grateful) the memories of our trip will not wash away so easily or so quickly.