My sister, Lynda, visited us this weekend and we had a blast but the highlight was a trip to the mountains. Sunday, we woke to about two inches of wet snow on the ground. It is April and it is Calgary--what more can I say?
I did not drag out my winter coat or my snow boots despite knowing snow loves higher elevations. That was good thing as there was no snow in the mountains until we reached places where it still lingered after our long winter.
Since the purpose of our mountain trip was photography, Glen suggested we drive to Johnston's Canyon, our favourite camping spot as it is on a quiet highway with little traffic. We knew the campground would be closed but the path up the canyon was also a cross-country ski trail. Not that we planned doing a hike. Lynda suffers from plantar fasciitis and was in great pain so walking was minimized but that didn't stop us taking some great photos.
We stopped at all the look-offs that normally we whiz past on our way to the campground. Alway anxious to set up the tent and enjoy the camping experience, we fail to stop and enjoy the meadows and vistas along the way. Sunday was different. As is often the case, an out-of-town visitor opens your eyes and senses to what you fail to see in your own backyard.
I have lost count of the number of times I've photographed Johnston Creek as it flows through its canyon. Waterfalls beckon, rocky outcrops demand to be photographed. Always a better picture lies around a curve in the trail or over the next switchback. But on Sunday, I drew my inspiration from the creek flowing past the parking lot at the trailhead. Sparkling water gurgled around ice crusted the rocks. Seed pods clung to dried greenery. Roots snaked across eroded river banks. They all became images for my camera to capture. And who would have thought I'd find satisfaction in photographing a gas pump?
Lynda had never been to Canmore so we took her to our favourite brewpub, The Grizzly Paw. While she and Glen enjoyed Powder Hound Pilsner, I had a pint of Rutting Elk Red. Crisp mountain air with a hint of snow always whets the appetite so Lynda chose the Beef Brisket while Glen had a Classic Burger with fries. I had a perfectly cooked, Grilled Salmon sandwich. We all raved about our meals but I have a soft spot for the Grandma Bee's Roughage Salad which came with Lynda's and my meal. It has shredded carrots and beets, hard boiled eggs, and cheese scattered on top of a mix of greens.
Besides brewing their own beer, the Grizzly Paw makes all their own salad dressings and soups. Their dips and barbeque sauces feature their beers and their pizza crusts are locally made at the Rocky Mountain Flatbread Company. Each menu item has a suggested beer pairing so if you wish, you can drink the variety that enhances the flavour of your meal. The brewery also makes its own sodas and the restaurant's organic coffee is called Frog Friendly Wild, Human Beans for Human Beings.
As always, we left the mountains with a heavy heart only to be greeted by the wide vistas of rolling prairie. The sun had warmed the air so instead of melting, the snow vapourized. Wispy mists danced along fence lines and softened the dark hides of browsing cattle. Tiny calfs, newly born, scampered near their mothers, the fog swirling around them. Such beauty just outside our door.
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