Day Five - Estes Park

Estes Park is famous for many things, one being the Stanley Hotel where Stephen King stayed and was inspired to write his novel, The Shining. The other is its spectacular Rocky Mountain scenery with the Big Thompson River rushing past a river walk that features boutiques, cafés, and restaurants.

We had visited Estes Park in the past but never in the summer. We were delighted with the transformation of a ski town into one catering to summer visitors. The town was festooned with flowers and the green areas were oases among the bustle of shops. Melissa wanted to check out several stores but we stopped to have coffee and treats at Kind Coffee first.

After a stroll along the river, a brief pause at the playground was followed by shopping the main street. Another snack got Elijah and Miles back to the playground while Glen, Geoff, and I went into the local winery, The Valley of the Wind, to do a tasting. We knew we would buy wine there but the lady insisted we try a variety of types. We ended up liking the Grizzly Bear Syrah and the Roaring River Red. Geoff also bought a bottle of their Riesling for Melissa.

The boys had had enough of the playground by the time we finished so we walked to our favourite family restaurant, Poppy's. I had their Mediterranean Pizza although I could have created my own pizza from a variety of sauces and toppings. The boys had grilled cheese with carrots from the children's menu while Glen and Geoff ordered the Classic Reuben sandwich.

We had planned going to a large rock shop just outside of town but due to the misbehaviour of Elijah and Miles, this plan was abandoned. Instead, we headed back to the campsite where pork chops were for dinner.

Day Four - Intrepid Hikers

The next day, we were anxious to hike the many trails around the campsite but little legs had to be factored into any walk so we settled on the Lily Lake loop. From the map, it looked to be an easy mile around the shoreline. We drove to the trail head. This is a popular hike for those who like an easy walk rather than slogging up mountain trails. There were several families enjoying this Rocky Mountain experience.

Lily Lake is a 'catch and release' fishing site but the season begins July 1st so there were no fishermen on this day. The information posted at the trail head promised lovely wildflowers in the spring and it didn't disappoint. We saw columbines, lilies (of course), snapdragons, and many I could not identify.

The trail began by crossing a small bridge then it forked. Geoff immediately veered right, up a rocky trail that dove into the hills surrounding the lake. Glen's credo of always taking the high road must have sunk into Geoff's psyche at sometime. Sweeping views of the lake and surrounding mountains made the climb rewarding. Elijah and Miles scrambled over the rocks and seemed to enjoy the hike but that would not last. Hey, all kids are the same and soon the whining began. It reminded me of all the hikes we did when our kids were young.

We quickly descended the hills and wandered along the edge of the lake seeing ducks and a hummingbird. Several birding couples passed us so it must also offer a chance to spot local birdlife. By this time, though, the boys rebelled and were not happy with the heat or the walking so it was good the parking lot wasn't far. Just around the next bend, as Glen has often said in the past.

Napping was the plan for the afternoon so the boys laughed and giggled in the tent while Melissa and I chatted (they did sleep eventually). Glen and Geoff had not had enough walking so they did a hike to an abandoned mine. I told Glen to take pictures so I could see what it was like but it turned out to be very disappointing so no photos were taken.

We ended the day with bison burgers and all the fixings.

Day Three - Colorado Rocky Mountain High

Not ones to let grass grow under our feet, we were off on another adventure three days after leaving Calgary. We headed back up the I-25, took the turn off to Lyons, Colorado, and headed down Route 36 to Estes Park. We had been here before on a day trip but Melissa had found a campsite where we could stay and enjoy nearby Rocky Mountain National Park.

It was a small (26 sites), tents-only, campground designed as a base camp for those wishing to climb Longs Peak (14,259 ft or 4346 m). The campground's elevation was 9500 ft (2895 m) so we definitely experienced a Rocky Mountain high.

After getting settled with tents erected, Geoff went off on a trail run to Chasm Lake which he described as spectacular. Glen, Melissa, and I played with the kids and enjoyed the warm sunshine. Anyone who knows how Armstrongs camp will realize there is something wrong with the picture heading this page. Yes, no rain is falling. We did get some rain but just a few light showers in the evening that did nothing to wet down the dust.

A unique feature of this campground was Mr. Bill, a very friendly volunteer camp host from Oregon. His granddaughters lived in Estes Park so by staying in his motorhome at the campground, he could visit them and meet and greet everyone who came to enjoy the mountain experience. Miles and Elijah took to Bill like ducks to water and he loved having them around. He really did make our stay pleasant.

Geoff was the campfire king and even attempted to light his fire-sticks using flint. This came close to working but we all wanted the fire sooner rather than later so a single match lit it. Wood could be bought every evening for $4 a bundle so we got 5 bundles so we'd not run out should the weather turn nasty. After a great supper of chicken fajitas (Armstrong camp meals are legendary), we roasted marshmallows. I had my first S'more of marshmallows and chocolate layered between graham crakers (the first recipe for s'mores appears in a 1927 Girl Scout cookbook). I am not a sweet tooth so this was just too much sweetness for me. Glen ate what I couldn't.

Day Two - Where the Deer and the Antelope Play

We left Billings knowing the first leg of our journey would only be an hour. Glen has always wanted to see the Little Big Horn Battlefield where Lt. Col George Armstrong Custer and the 7th Calvary lost their battle with warriors of the Lakota and Cheyenne tribes under Chief Tatanka-iyotanka (Sitting Bull) on June 25th, 1876. The historic site was on the road we would take into Wyoming so stopping to experience the history was a viable option. Ironically, we missed the anniversary of the battle by 2 days so didn't see the reenactment.

Since the 1990s, the Little Big Horn Battlefield National Monument has been modified to reflect the history of both sides rather than just the 'white man's' point of view. There are red granite grave markers to honour fallen native warriors among the white marble ones originally erected to show where Calvary men fell. The Spirit Warriors monument to native American losses now stands near one to fallen U.S. soldiers on Last Stand Hill. There was a small museum of artifacts at the site but walking up Last Stand Hill past the gravestone markers was a more moving experience. The meadow was awash with colourful wild flowers and the grass a verdant green. A friendly ranger remarked that a couple of days of 90 degree heat would soon paint the hillside brown.

After spending an hour at the site, we headed south. I had heard Wyoming was a lonely land but wasn't prepared for the total lack of human habitation. Except for the highway, fences, and the odd wind farm with giant turbines, the countryside was rolling green hills under a crystal blue sky. We saw hundreds of pronghorn antelope and many deer. Cattle did range the land and some vistas were reminiscent of a Zane Grey novel with the grey-green sagebrush softening the browns of rocky outcrops and coulees.

The population of this large state is only 575,000 so no wonder you can drive for miles without seeing a single ranch or town. The rest stops were further apart too, but I loved Wyoming. I felt I could breathe here and experience true freedom. I'd have to learn how to ride a horse, of course, and deal with rattlesnakes, I'm sure, but to live in such a wide open space would compensate for that.

At the town of Buffalo, we changed to the I-25 highway which would take us to Denver. It veered east at Casper then headed south to Cheyenne, the capital of Wyoming. The drive was a delight according to Glen as everyone kept to the speed limit and were polite if you chose to pass by slowing down to let you do so. State troopers pulled several out-of-state cars over for speeding so they are strict with enforcement.

When we hit the Colorado state line, the traffic doubled and it was like driving in Calgary again. We got stopped by an accident outside of Fort Collins so didn't arrive at Geoff's place until 6:30 pm. They had just finished supper and so lingered while we ate ours. It was great seeing the grandmonkeys again. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly they grow.

Road Trip

We are now settled in Victoria so I can sit down and write about our road trip. It has been years, sixteen to be exact, since we have done a trip that required more than two days driving. In total, we put 4500 kms on the Ion travelling from Calgary to Denver to Victoria. We saw some great scenery and came to appreciated the beauty of the western states.

Day One: God's Country

Many years ago when I worked at Agriculture Canada in Ottawa, Ontario, the scientist who headed the sheep nutrition program, told me that Montana was God's Country. I had never heard the expression before and have since felt it could apply to any of the many places I've visited. We had been to Montana about 20 years ago, seeing the rolling mountains of the Bitterroot Range but it didn't strike me as a place someone would swear was God's Country.

On June 26th at 6:30 am, we headed south from Calgary via Lethbridge to enter Montana at Coutts. We had seen two pronghorn antelope very close to the highway on our drive through Alberta which I thought bode well for our trip. We only waited about ten minutes at the border as US customs agents examined vehicles. I was asked what I did for a living which floored me since I can't say I do anything. I muttered something about being a writer and a housewife which satisfied the man. Before leaving, we had emptied our fridge so had a cooler full of beer but even though they asked Glen to pop the trunk, they didn't actually look inside.

It was a gorgeous day for a drive but the temperatures rose as we travelled south. We hoped to make Billings by evening which would mean 12 hours on the road. Our first stop was a rest stop on the Whoop Up trail and were warned to stay on the path because of rattlesnakes. I reminded Glen this area was featured in the book, The Englishman's Boy by Guy Vanderhaeghe. We soon learned that rest stops on the Interstates were about an hour apart so convenient for taking time to stretch legs and empty bladders.

The rolling prairie that Montana shares with Alberta changed as soon as the Missouri River sliced the landscape near Great Falls. Here we entered fantastic canyons cut in red rock and weathered into wonderful shapes. Dotting the river were fishermen in unusual, dory-like boats and lush vegetation surrounded us. God's Country, for sure, as we passed through the state capital of Helena and onto to Butte. Here we left Interstate 15 and headed east on I-90. Glen had declared my original route that cut across the state would mean he'd have to leave the double-lane interstate which made driving enjoyable. It probably would have meant the same number of hours on the road so I agreed.

We left the Missouri Valley behind and crossed the state through prairie rangeland. Not as populated as Alberta, Montana does seem rather more desolate than Canadian prairie. Its population of about a million people is concentrated mostly in its towns.

We reached Billings at 6:30 pm and like Mary and Jesus, found there was no room at the inn of our choice. Fortunately, the Sleep Inn next door had a room to our liking with a buffet breakfast included. It was not cheap but we were tired and ready for supper. The young desk clerk recommended a local Irish/sports pub for supper and she did not steer us wrong.

After settling in, we walked the two blocks to the pub housed in what looked like an office building. The Fiddler's Green had a great atmosphere, cold beer, and terrific food. What more could you ask after a long day's drive? Glen and I ordered pizza, he a pepperoni and me a vegetarian. We exchanged a couple of pieces to have a balanced meal and washed it down with a pitcher of Fat Tire beer.

Photo Shoot

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.

Hidden Gems

In every place we visit, there are hidden gems. These are usually places off the main tourist maps that offer a sense of what the city or town and its people are like. Sometimes it is a graveyard or a small park or even a café with home cooking. Yesterday, we walked to Victoria's Government House. It is the official residence of the province's lieutenant governor, Steven L. Point, a member of the Stó:lo Tribal Council and a hidden gem just outside the borders of downtown Victoria.

Since the 1990s, the public has been encouraged to visit the gardens and enjoy their serenity and spectacular views. The 36 acres features lawns, rose gardens, a duck pond, herb garden and an incredible stand of gnarly Garry Oaks. The house is on a hill overlooking the ocean so one can sit on benches scattered about a rockery and watch passing ships. Yesterday, about 25 ravens bathed in a tiny pond near our bench and chatted among themselves as they dried their feathers.

We came to the gardens in search of red rhododendrons. We had seen several in city gardens and I felt the Government House gardens would have an impressive display. I've photographed rhodos there before and they are overwhelming in their colour and number. However, it is early in the season and after walking for a half hour, we found only one bush. But the gardens didn't lack for colour and the variety of flowers in bloom was a delight to the eyes and my camera lens.

The duck pond was alive with mating mallards and at one point, they marched across the surrounding lawn towards an elderly couple sitting on a bench. It reminded me of the children's book set in Boston Public Garden called 'Make Way for Ducklings' by Robert McCloskey.

What makes these gardens unique is the tenacity of the plants as they cling to rocky granite outcrops. Thick moss and lichen compliment tulips and daffodils growing in soil trapped between rocky clefts. The formal gardens with fountains and trimmed hedges flourish beside wild spaces alive with native grasses and eerie, almost skeletal, oak trees. Pathways wind between these areas so as one turns a corner, one is surprised by yet another variety of plant.

The Government House gardens are a hidden gem filled with gem-like flowers and moments of peace to treasure.