Canadian Report #1

Today, my birthday, it is rainy, and we’re spending the day in the town of Banff, doing town stuff, after two glorious days of hiking in the Canadian Rockies. So far, so good.

The first day’s drive was from Seattle to Kamloops, BC – about 325 miles. I wouldn’t say the Canadian customs agent grilled us, exactly, but he did imply a degree of skepticism about our story. Perhaps this would not have been so had I been entering Canada as a Canadian, but alas, I lack a current Canadian passport. What do you do for a living that you’re able to take a month off work? It doesn’t look like you’ve packed very much, for a month. Oh, we assure you, there’s plenty underneath that bench. Do you know anyone in Canada that you’ll be visiting or staying with? At that point I ‘fessed up to being Canadian and having actual family that we’d be visiting, and that seemed to be the end of that.

After a good seven hours on the road, we spent the first night at beautiful Paul Lake provincial park about 10 miles north of Kamloops – slightly out of our way, but worth it. Our evening was marred only by a fight between the dogs, something that hasn’t happened in several years. But the circumstances were predictable - they were off-kilter from the complete disruption to routine, overtired from the fun of it all, and we’d just put their dinner bowls down when the ranger came to collect the camping fee. One dog went to greet the ranger, the other took that opportunity to go after the food bowl, and… fight ensues, to the consternation of the ranger. For the first time in their long lives the fight resulted in an actual injury, a gash on Nelly’s face below her eye. But as always seems to happen, the dogs are over it all well before the humans, and Nelly heals well. She's a tough old bird.

Onward, then, through spectacular central British Columbia, crossing the mighty Columbia River twice, with a short stop at the iconic Last Spike monument to the completion of the Canadian Pacific Railroad at Craigellachie – I like to think my Granddad would have appreciated that, career railroadman that he was – and up, up, up into the Rockies to Banff National Park, where we’re camping four nights at Lake Louise.

Lake Louise is a mystery wrapped in a cliché wrapped in a hyperbole. The language used to describe this mammoth green alpine lake would seem gushing if weren’t entirely deserved.

We’ve spent two days hiking amidst lakes and mountains and glaciers (glaciers!), and the freakishly loud whistle of the ever-present marmots. We saw a black bear while backtracking to Yoho National Park in BC, home to the famous Burgess Shale trove of fossils. Discovered exactly 100 years ago, this find demonstrated the mind-bending array of bizarre life that came into being during the so-called Pre-Cambrian Explosion.

The dogs have done two days of 6-7 mile hikes, which is pretty impressive given that they are basically 80 years old, in people terms. They’ve been happy troopers, yearning after rodents, swimming in icy waters, and rolling on snowfields; and they’re exhausted, especially Nelly. We go out early, beat the crowds, and then there is napping.


We’re staying in a lovely campground in the park near Lake Louise, surrounded by an electrified fence to keep people and bears apart. What is it like living in a VW van, you might ask? Well, we travel with the bed folded down, covered tightly with a bedsheet. In front of the bed on the floor, we have a sizeable dog bed, and a little space by the sliding door that serves as a foyer of sorts for shoes and leashes. On top of the bed, besides Nelly and Toby, we keep sleeping bags, pillows, and a large duffel bag with all our clothes. We also have a cooler that plugs into a 12-volt outlet in the car. Hanging behind the driver’s seat is a basket with Handy Stuff – sunscreen, poop bags, dog treats, etc. Hanging being the passenger seat is a special garbage satchel. In a side compartment, we keep a tarp to protect the bed from wet dogs, and mosquito netting of sufficient size to basically cover the van at night (though we haven’t needed it yet). In the two seatback pockets are file holders with guide books, maps, directions and confirmation notices.

Because we need to sleep on the bed, we keep everything else underneath: an airtight bin with 45 quarts of dog food; a smaller bin with people food; a 2-burner Coleman stove, and propane; dishes, stored in an oblong bucket (for washing); a bin of first aid and pharmaceutical supplies; toiletries and towels; a large shoe/boot bin; a tote bag full of books; extra oil and coolant for Eva; and a bin full of miscellaneous necessities of life on the road with dogs: matches, bungee cords, ziplock bags, laundry detergent, a whisk broom, lint brush, dog brush, clothes line, trash bags, lantern, and so forth. A place for everything, and everything in its place: that is the key to sanity.

At night we shift the duffel bag and cooler to the front seat of the van, and pack everything away (despite the electrified fence, food must be stored securely). We drop the curtains and spread out the sleeping bags. Hats are hung on one headrest, jackets and leashes on the other. Nelly sleeps on the dog bed on the floor, and Toby sleeps with us. Despite the contours of the folded-down car seat, the bed is surprisingly comfortable. Though we did stop at the Bay today to buy a couple extra pillows.

Tomorrow we drive to Edmonton, with a stop in Cochrane to visit my distant cousin Margaret and her husband George. In Edmonton we’ll spend three whole nights in a hotel!

More photos at Flickr (see right).