BC or Bust: Rabies, Baked Beans and Bisquick Pan Bread

 

This is why, even when I am packing Beagle clothes in 100-degree weather and looking at the forecast for the next week and seeing nothing but 90’s, this is why I pack my cozy outfit (thick cotton Nike sweat pants and a cashmere turtleneck):  For days like this when I find myself high in the Canadian Rockies, having hiked nine miles in the rain, returning to a 50-degree Beagle, cold and chilled.

While the kettle is boiling and Beagle’s heater starts blowing, I exchange my wet hiking gear for, you guessed it, cozy clothes.

So here I sit in Mount Robson Provincial Park (Robson River Campground), decaf coffee and Digestive Biscuits to my right, Opus to my left and nothing but Canadian Rockies everywhere else—certainly no cellular coverage—writing to you about what happened before Now:  Yoho National Park and the Icefield Parkway.

My first bit of advice should you decide to travel to these destinations is:  Become a Morning Person.  The sites are magnificent and the mountains, with all their cool, solid elegance, make for wonderful, silent companions…until the masses and busses arrive.

Suggestion Un:  If you want to see the sites that you can drive right up to (Lake O’Hara, Emerald Lake, Takkakaw Falls in Yoho), you better be there by 8 AM.  By 9 AM you will be taking the last parking spot and by 10 AM you will be in an endless circle of equally frustrated travelers asking everyone standing near a vehicle, “Are you leaving?”  More grace is given to hikers; if you arrive at the trailheads by 10AM, you are almost assured a parking spot. 

But what gorgeous sites!  Emerald Lake, which you can drive to, is not to be missed.  And, if you are not a camper, there is the lovely Emerald Lake Lodge right along the shore.  Opus and I arrived shortly after 8AM, hiked around the lake (easy, three miles) and then inflated Supina for what turned out to be, an Opus photoshoot.  He was the only dog out there and must have had his picture taken twenty times.  Hauling Supina back to the car and setting about drying and deflating her, I wished I had a sign, “No, I am not leaving,” but what the heck, it was nice to use my voice.

And it’s not just that there are a ton of people—it’s fun to hear all the languages (funny how “Awe” from a three-year-old noticing Opus sounds the same in any language)—it’s the driving around and around and the frantic energy emanating from the cars.  And once out, sadly, many people (and most teenagers) have the dead-eye look of boredom, of wanting to be anywhere but shuffling along with the throng. 

But getting there in the early morning?  Heaven.

Contrast that to our hike to Lake Sherbrooke where we didn’t see another person until half way through our shoreline picnic (we were at the trailhead by 8 AM.)  It was a delightful trail, well maintained and with plenty of ups to keep the blood pumping.  The only wildlife we saw was a mole dashing across the path just ahead of us.  Opus pulled to the spot and then pounced, snapped, and began to violently shake his head from side to side—his preferred killing method.  I knew not to stop him because if he stopped in the middle, what would I do with a half dead mole?  Better to just let it die.

But I don’t think it was a mole, because when Opus turned around, still shaking his head violently from side to side, I could see he was foaming at the mouth.  And not just toothpaste foaming, we’re talking something not seen since Lucy was doing laundry.  There was nothing else in his mouth, his lips were curling up and the look of panic in his eyes quickly transferred to mine.

Can Rabies happen so quickly?  Surely not.  My god, I thought he was on his way off this planet.  Not being near the lake yet, I grabbed my canteen and began dousing his mouth with water.  This caused the foam to change viscosity and now, when Opus shook his head, splatters of Rabid Dog Foam flecked my face.  The foaming eventually stopped and slowly his lips returned to their normal position.  But I kept a close eye on him until he ate and drank, both of which he did within an hour. 

I have no idea what it was—clearly something stung him or sprayed him although I didn’t smell anything.  A mystery.  We consoled ourselves by gazing at the gorgeous lake.

Suggestion Deux:  If you are going to drive the Icefield Parkway in only one direction, go from north (Jasper) to south (Lake Louise):   The majority of sites are on the western side of the highway and this will save you many hours of waiting to try and make a left from the parking lots onto Highway 93—and I should know.  Fortunately, I had been amazed by this drive about thirty years ago on a bright sunny day; we were not so lucky on this run but it was definitely worth it.  The travel guide mentioned that if you can only stop once make it Peyto Lake (and the parking there has lots of RV spots):

A great suggestion, particularly early in the morning (might be the one benefit of making this drive from south to north.) 

And here’s something that doesn’t belong on any driving itinerary that also includes pulling a trailer on an over 350 KM driving day: “On the way to Robson, stop in Jasper for laundry and groceries.”

Uh, no way. 

I was so tired by the time I reached Jasper (the other benefit of driving in the opposite direction of my trip is that the southbound lane has passing lanes—there was not one passing lane on the northbound side--NOT ONE) that I just passed right by the “Centre Ville” exit sign and began my last 84 KMs to Mt. Robson Provincial Park.  It was a long, long, long 384 KM day.

I arrived at my disappointing pitch (more on that in Chaptre Trois), with no clean hiking clothes and nothing but a can of baked beans and some Bisquick for dinner.   But really, is there anything more satisfying than a Bisquick biscuit pan-fried in butter?

Well, maybe the two blueberry Pop-Tarts I had for dessert.

-K