A CAMPING TRIP IN THE ROCKIES
While I was visiting Mrs. S., Winifred had found a garage where we could
leave the caravan. She had also inquired about the trains for Banff, and
found that one left about 5 a.m. next morning. Mrs. S. gave me the
vicarage key, so that we might store our things there. This we did
overnight. We got up very early in the morning, collected our
sleeping-bags, the tent, the tea-basket and a little food, with a small
saucepan and a spirit lamp, and a "grip" apiece, and drove these things
to the station in the van. We then left the van outside the garage (as
previously arranged), because it did not open till 7 a.m., and just
managed to catch the train. We had a few hours' wait at Calgary, and
arrived at Banff about twelve o'clock at night. We had not the least
idea where to go, and there was nobody about except an old man with a
lorry. I asked him where the camping-ground was, and he replied that it
was too far to go that night, but he would take us to a place where we
could camp for the present, and he would come and fetch us in the
morning; so we put our things on the lorry and climbed up after them,
and he whipped up his horses and drove off at a gallop into the
darkness.
Presently we stopped suddenly where a wood loomed up against a
star-strewn sky. "Here's the place," our charioteer said briefly, and we
pulled our things off the lorry and were speedily left alone. It was
pitch dark under the pines, so we could not see to put the tent up. We
groped for the rope which confined the tent and sleeping-bags, and after
some fumbling undid the knots and got out the bags and waterproof sheets
and mosquito-nets. Then we undressed with great difficulty in the heavy
dew, and somehow or other crawled into the bags and rolled ourselves up
in the waterproofs and pulled the mosquito-nets right over our heads.
The latter pests were awful. They even bit us through the nets, and made
such a noise in the early morning that we could stand it no longer, and
got up, whereupon they fell upon us with renewed zest.
We now saw the exquisite beauty of the place. The sun shone down through
the tall pine-trees and glittering dew-drops spangled every blade of
grass. We came out of the wood, and there were the Rockies in full
view--lovely pointed peaks, with snow on their summits. Near at hand
flowed a beautiful clear river. Trees and water were an intense delight
after the bare stretches of prairie.
I collected sticks and boiled coffee in the little saucepan, and we had
the most delicious breakfast. By the time we had finished the old man
had come for us. He drove us a few miles beyond the town to a large
pine-wood. The Spray River ran through this wood--a swift clear stream,
opalescent with melting snow. The wood was full of tents, but we found a
nice spot near the river for our camp, not too near anyone else. I then
went off into the town to look for an Anglican church, as it was Sunday
morning. The way into the town was through a beautiful avenue of tall
pines, an avenue over two miles long. By dint of asking the way I found
a lovely little church. It had the prettiest natural decoration--moss
growing on the window-sills. It was just 11 a.m. when I arrived, and I
found there would be both Matins and Holy Communion. I was well rewarded
for my efforts. In the evening we both went into the town for evensong,
and had supper at a restaurant.
We had heard of the beauty of Lake Louise, so on Monday we made a trip
thither. The last part of the way was by a funicular railway. Lake
Louise was hardly known before 1890. It is a small jewel of a lake, just
over a mile long and a quarter of a mile wide. It lies 5,670 feet above
sea-level, and Mount George at the head of the lake is 11,355 feet high.
This mountain is covered with glaciers and perpetual snow. I live in
the Lake District, and also know the lakes of Scotland, Switzerland, and
Italy, but I have never seen such exquisite colouring as that of Lake
Louise. It flashes on you suddenly as you emerge from the pine woods, a
mirror of gleaming turquoise, framed on either side by dark pine-clad
slopes, with glistening white peaks between them, these being reflected
in the clear waters. On the lower slopes of the mountains and at the
foot of the lake there is vivid emerald green grass. Facing this
loveliness the C.P.R. has built an artistic hotel, chalet fashion, which
does not spoil the landscape. From the windows of this hotel the whole
enchanting picture is seen as in a frame.
In the afternoon Winifred went in a motor char-a-banc to see other lakes
and mountains, and I walked up through the pine woods on the right of
Lake Louise to Lake Agnes, a climb of 1,200 feet. A little above this I
saw a tiny lake called Mirror Lake. These two are sometimes called the
Lakes in the Clouds. By this time a thunderstorm had come on, which
greatly enhanced the grandeur of the scene.
On the Tuesday I went to the famous sulphur baths at Banff. The water
comes out at 98 degrees in one spring and 112 degrees in the other.
There are open-air swimming baths with glass all round them, so that you
can see the mountains all the time. The next day we went down the river
in a motor-boat, seeing a most wonderful panorama of woods and
mountains, which a thunderstorm made more beautiful. The lightning
seemed to strike a waterfall and glance off again. That same night there
was another tremendous storm, the thunder echoing and re-echoing in the
mountains, sounding as if two storms had met and burst above us. I
distinctly felt the heat of the lightning and could not help wondering
how soon it would be before we were struck, being under trees. But
although the rain was terrific it never came through the tent.
Another day we motored to Lake Minawaake, passing several canyons. We
came back by Banff Park, where we saw moose and other tame wild animals,
the most interesting of all being the buffalo, one of which was
wallowing with his legs in the air. I took a photo of him, but was not
allowed to get out of the car to do so as they said he would probably
charge. This is the only herd now in existence, and they once covered
the prairie. Another very interesting sight was the lumber being floated
down the Bow River to Banff, where it is sawn up and sent by train all
over the prairie. The flowers here were very luxuriant. The most
striking one was the Red Indian's Paint Brush.
[Illustration:
1. THE AVENUE AT BANFF, ALBERTA
2. LAKE LOUISE
3. LUMBER ON THE BOW RIVER
_To face p. 80_]
[Illustration: SLINGING HAY INTO THE BARN (see page 87)]
[Illustration: THE CHURCH ON THE INDIAN RESERVE (see page 99)]
On the Friday we returned to Youngstown. We had a very exciting journey
as there were sixty wash-outs on the track. It was very sandy, and had
given way in the recent big storms. You wondered all the time what was
going to happen next, especially after it grew dark and they kept
shunting us from one line to another. Then a madman got in, and insisted
on conversing with us when he was not fighting, until removed by the
conductor. We arrived at Youngstown at 1.30 a.m., but as the tent had
not arrived, and the caravan was garaged, we had nowhere to sleep, and
so finished the night on a very hard wooden bench in the waiting-room.