Falling behind

Canoe Mountain, British Columbia

You may have noticed a little less writing from me lately. I haven't had much to report since Haida Gwaii. Not for lack of miles, just lack of sitting still long enough to write about them. Consider this a small recap of where we've been lately. 

After a wonderful few days in Terrace, working on the truck, wheeling with buddies, and enjoying the warmest hospitality from a friend's parents, we set off east. A short detour up to Mackenzie let us see an old friend from our time in New Zealand. From there we made our way through Valemount, Jasper, Banff, Lake Louise, and Golden.

Fall has arrived on this side of the province. The mornings are getting darker. Our toes are a touch colder in our shoes. Sniffly noses pair with chilly fingers as we breathe into cupped hands to scare off the chill. The windy road to Mackenzie was dotted with trees already turning yellow, golden tips reaching for grey skies. The surrounding forests are wet, flowers turning shades of soft pink, red, and brown. The ground is beginning to rust. And with it has come more rain.  But hey, we’re used to it by now.

Canoe Mountain

South of Valemount is Canoe Mountain. Standing 8,689 feet, it's considered the highest road you can drive in B.C…. though who knows if that's still accurate. Hoping to catch the sun in the morning, Tom and I spent the night sleeping through a thunderstorm at the base of the mountain, then made our slow climb up the gravel track to the peak once daylight came. Lucky for us, the sun said hello for a brief time, and we took a while to bask in the 360-degree view of never-ending peaks in every direction.

Our luck held down the Icefields Parkway too. At times it felt like we were driving to outrun the rain rumbling behind us, but we managed a few unencumbered views of the Rockies. It's been five years since I last drove this road. I remembered its beauty, but seeing it again only confirmed that this is one of the most incredible drives in the country.

Banff

Banff was a whirlwind. Sitting in the visitor parking lot making a quick salad for lunch, we high-fived over the fact that we hadn't bickered or dissolved our relationship entirely while lapping the only free lot in town looking for a spot. It sounds like a simple waiting game. But watching for that one person slowly walking to their car, hoping they'll stop at the exact one you're crawling past, I can't think of many things better suited to testing a relationship than hunting for parking with your loved one in the passenger seat.

Banff is ridiculous. Beautiful, sure. Quaint, yes. Busy? Ha. We Sea to Sky folk like to complain about tourists in our neck of the woods, but wait till you get to Banff. Whistler on a sunny summer day doesn't come close to the hordes swarming that small mountain town. After our great achievement of finding a parking spot, we strolled to the nearest pub, had a beer while I brainstormed on a current project, and then left. Short and... short.

Farnham Glacier

After our fill of tourist town, Tom and I continued south toward Radium Hot Springs. From there you cross the Columbia River and wind through forested farm country, alongside Farnham Creek. The forest service road keeps climbing up the river valley as the mountains close in, getting taller and taller, tighter and tighter,  until we were straining our necks out the windscreen to see the misty peaks above. The road out to Farnham Glacier is painted in pink and green this time of year. The fireweed is holding on to its last vibrant magenta petals while its leaves peel and rust away, soon to fall and dissolve into the soil until snow comes to blanket them for the winter. The glacier itself was only just visible through the clouds, but the drive was worth it regardless. Sitting beneath the shoulders of those massive mountains, with only the pitter-patter of rain on our awning and the distant rush of waterfalls cascading down from the glacier, is a good reminder of how stunning every corner of this province is.

Once again, we held off till morning to drive the remaining gravel track to the official top, since the clouds weren't budging. Much like Canoe Mountain, we were rewarded with clearer skies the next day, and incredible views of the surrounding peaks, the glacier, and the valley we'd driven the day before.

Fall has a way of creeping up on you slowly, and then all at once. A cold morning here, a yellowing tree there, until one day you look up and the season has quietly taken over. I'm not quite ready to let go of summer, but I'll admit I'm getting excited for the colours still to come.

Tomorrow, if all goes to plan, we'll cross into Montana. More soon.