Canada 1989

Monday 11 September — Seattle to Victoria

Got up at quarter to seven for a quick shower and was waiting on the doorstep for the office to open at seven. Off at a fast walk along the waterfront to Pier 48 to catch the Princess Marguerite. It took less than fifteen minutes since I knew where I was going. There was a good queue waiting to buy tickets, many with amounts of luggage that implied some pre-planning. so why didn’t they buy tickets in advance? Tour groups and those with tickets walked straight on, so I had half an hour standing on the foredeck watching the slow movement of the ticket queue. It was five past eight before the last passengers boarded, they had arrived just after eight so were definitely lucky to get aboard.

So, off we went, with the sun in the wrong place for taking decent photos of the skyline. Did the best I could. After a bit, my thoughts turned to breakfast, but an amazing queue had developed at the cafeteria and I wasn’t hungry enough to justify the breakfast buffet at $8. I drifted about a bit and found myself in the Tartan Lounge as the forward observation lounge was full of old ladies drinking coffee. Entertainment was provided by two Irishmen, ex Belfast, the McQuillam Brothers who’ve been on the boat for fourteen years but, along with most of the crew, doubt if there will be another season. [There wasn’t.] One plays piano and "sings", the other plays drums or accordion.

At about eleven o’clock, they announced that the casino (just one-armed bandits) was open and the bar emptied rapidly. I stayed put. When we arrived at Victoria, the Canadian immigration officer asked when I would be applying for permanent residence. I said that I would rather go to New Zealand but, luckily, he had been there and liked it so he let me in.

I decided to go round and watch the arrival of the Vancouver Island Princess and have lunch at Barb’s place en route. The immigration officer was just in front of me in the queue, he lunches there regularly. Apparently they don’t get much drugs coming in through Victoria, it’s easier to drive across the border.

On round to Ogden’s Point just as the V.I.P. appeared from the haze. Plenty time to walk out the seawall and change the film. Several large clouds of smoke rising from the direction of the naval base at Esquimalt. Headed back downtown, looked at the totem poles outside the museum and then went to the hostel.

While waiting in the queue, I got talking to a US person called Allison, who had a bike but so far had cycled only from Ogden’s Point having got a bus to Seattle and then the ferry. She had noticed on the V.I.P. the same phenomenon that I had observed on the Princess Marguerite when the casino opened, though not from the same place. She also seemed quite unprepared for travel in foreign parts, not a YHA member, no Canadian money though as she was returning to the States, to the San Juan Islands, on the morrow, she had not wanted to be left with Canadian dollars.

Did the usual ablutions and went out for a walk. After a bit, I went into the Marcos restaurant where I’d eaten on my first arrival in Victoria. I was about to sit down when I realised that the gesticulating female at the next table was Allison, who invited me to join her, which I did. A wide ranging conversation ensued, including the question of why US tourists are unpopular. I reassured her that there were exceptions. We returned to the hostel, talked a bit longer about her plans to cycle up the main road to the ferry terminal at Sydney with a heavy pack on her back, not on her bike, then went our separate ways to bed.

Tuesday 12 September — Victoria to Vancouver to ...

Time to move on again so a fairly early start to the day with time for just a litre of milk to sustain me en route to the station. Not the same railcar as last Thursday (which had been recently refurbished and very squeaky) but the other one, a bit shabbier and much less squeaky with a baggage section replacing a dozen seats. However, I still got a prime seat by the same means as then. The train was not as full as last week and we were a couple of minutes early at Nanaimo.

I set off downtown heading towards a vehicle loading ramp visible above the roofs, then following Terminal Road. It was very quiet and I discovered it was the wrong terminal, the one I wanted was a couple of miles further north. There was a pleasant shore path most of the way, edged with brambles. Just in time for the midday boat despite the ticket vending system being down for five minutes.

Boarded the Queen of Alberni and off we went. Tea and a cheese sandwich, bought a souvenir booklet, spent most of the one and three quarter hour trip on deck. Got a bus from Horseshoe Bay to downtown Vancouver and went in search of more tobacco.

Now, I had intended to stay in Vancouver for a couple of nights but set off for the station to check when I could get a seat out of town and, by the time I got there, I had decided to try for a seat today to Jasper, which I got. I could get a bus from there to Banff on the Icefields Parkway.

So, I hung around the station for a while, more tea and an egg mayonnaise sandwich, then nipped across the road for some cheap Tshirts, and bought some key-rings in the station. The “preboarding” for sleeper passengers was a bit of a shambles, they queued up to have their tickets checked then joined another queue with us plebs. Trains were getting shorter, this one was 6400 and 6625 hauling a baggage car, one coach car, a bar/diner and four sleepers for Winnipeg plus one sleeper, bar/diner, one coach, one sleeper, baggage car and a steam generator to form the next Skeena from Jasper to Prince Rupert. All the Jasper passengers were put in the Skeena portion so we had a reasonable amount of room.

Both bar/diners were operating, I had salmon and a half bottle of wine. My table companions were Charlotte, a management consultant from London from London starting a six month world tour, Alasdair, a Guards officer from Nairn with an English accent and a Canadian who didn’t get a word in edgeways. After dinner, the three Brits were in the bar. A pleasant evening.

Wednesday 13 September — ... Jasper to ...

By the time we reached Jasper, I’d changed my mind again and decided to go to Prince George and get the BC Rail train down to North Vancouver. Things went well, I got a seat on the Skeena and a luggage locker. I declined the offer of a lift from Charlotte, as I didn’t know where I wanted to spend the day, then went for some milk for breakfast. The price has gone up one cent since I was last here but still the cheapest in Canada.

Along to the Parks information office and got another copy of the walks around the town, decided to go over the Old Fort Hill again and set of in that direction. The air was a bit hazy, due to slash burning in northern British Columbia. From the hill, I headed off towards some lakes but took a wrong turning in the woods and hit the wrong one. Back along the river bank, saw the bird up the pole again, could it be an osprey? (More tomorrow.)

Back in town again for a snack and some Happy Hour pints before going in search of more T-shirts. The shop where I bought them before had run down its stock for winter, increasing its selection of sweatshirts, so I bought some elsewhere. Then I had another bite to eat before returning to the station where I finally bought Mr Coo’s book on Western Canada trains.

The westbound Super Continental went through, arriving with 6408 and 6308 hauling a baggage car, coach, bar/diner and three sleepers and changing engines to depart with a CN loco 5428 leading 6426 and 6308, leaving 6408 to haul the Skeena. The engine shuffling seemed a bit of a last minute arrangement, I overheard a chap discussing the arrangements on the phone after the train had arrived. Not many people on the Skeena, which was five minutes late leaving.

Thursday 14 September — ... Prince George to Lillooet

Arrived in Prince George at some ungodly hour in the morning (ten to six) and sleepwalked off the train, leaving, as I realised later, the timetable in which I had been marking my trips around much of the country. There was a minibus service from the VIA Rail station to the BC Rail station, one other passenger from the train and two couples already in the bus, picked up from hotels. About a fifteen minute drive, just as well I didn’t try to walk it, besides, I would have got lost.

A few people about at the station, I went up to the ticket desk and asked could I get to North Vancouver. No, it’s a bit squashy today and the lass had orders to turn away all walk-ons. Tomorrow would be no problem but today was stowed. Oh well, I said, I’ll think about it and probably book it later in the day. Then she said it wasn’t full out of Prince George but really filled up south of Lillooet. Now, that is the town where the train terminates every other day in winter so it must have a sizeable population (2,200 I found out later), so, thinking on my feet, I said I’d go there today and continue tomorrow. That would at least save me another early morning.

So I got a ticket to Lillooet and boarded the train. The first class carriage was full with a tour, most of another car was roped off for a tour boarding further down the line, and so was part of the third. I saw what she meant about squashy. A girl came along at intervals enquiring who wanted tea, coffee, snacks etc. (for a price, of course). The corresponding girl from the first class carriage (where such things were free) came along and told another passenger to watch out for osprey nests on top of power poles just south of Quesnell.

It was a nice morning as far as Quesnell, where it became overcast, misty, almost dank. When we left, we saw the nests with a bird just like the one I saw at Jasper. A few minutes further south, the day cleared again. There are lots of saw and pulp mills around Quesnell, draw your own conclusions. Picked up a lot of people at Exeter, filled our coach. They had arranged for lunches.

On arrival at Lillooet, lots of people waiting and an extra car was added. Even then, the locals for “the three S’s” didn’t get on. They were transported fifteen minutes later in the “Bud Wiser” an elderly carriage hauled by a locomotive. There are no roads down that way so the school-kids and locals come into Lillooet by train, usually they go back in the fourth car.

The first pub I came to was the Reynolds Hotel so I went in for a beer. The barmaid quoted $19 something without or $23 something with facilities, which was the lowest room rate by far that I’d come across, and it included tax. So I had a few more pints then went and booked one with. Showered, watched TV then went for a walk through the town.

Had a very pleasant meal on the Lillooet Inn, which was just a restaurant. Pepper steak here turned out to be more beef bourgignean with chopped green peppers added. A couple of pints in the Victoria Hotel, back to the Reynolds for a nightcap, got latched onto by a native called Wayne and gave him my address. I hope his tribe doesn’t turn up.

Friday 15 September — Lillooet to Vancouver

The dried salmon Wayne had promised did not materialise, I wonder if he got to his work at 0430. I did not surface till late, had breakfast in the hotel dining room which is franchised to some Indians (of the Asian variety) who do a Chinese buffet lunch and move out at the beginning of next week to go to the Victoria Hotel dining room. Don’t ask me what was going on.

Took the pack down to the railway station, bought the ticket to North Vancouver and checked in the pack. Crossed the Fraser River on the oddly named 23 Camel Bridge which commemorates the animals brought in to the area by a carrier in the gold rush days before there were decent tracks. They were not a commercial success and the last few were released into the wild where they did not survive long. Followed the main road upstream before recrossing the river by the suspension bridge on the old road, now closed to vehicular traffic.

A last couple of pints in the Reynolds Hotel then down for the train. The local tourist association were conducting a survey and were quite tickled with my reason for visiting Lillooet, that it was as far as I could get on yesterday’s train. This time the passengers for “the three S’s” were accommodated in the fourth car, which had come up from North Vancouver on the morning train and been left here, so no need for the “Bud Wiser”.

I got a seat amongst a Yankee tour group who had plenty of spare seats and fed me the spare cookies that came with their afternoon tea. The other side of the car saw a couple of bears fishing in the river, I saw nothing but the better scenery. The Yanks got off at Whistler so I changed sides to keep the best scenery. We were slightly early at North Vancouver where there was a bus waiting for Downtown and I quickly found a bed at the Hotel Niagara and turned in.

Saturday 16 September — Vancouver

Well, being back in town, the first thing to do was to head for the station to make arrangements to leave again. No seats available to Banff on the morrow but I could get to Lake Louise, with which I was quite happy, and a word to the conductor would probably get me through to Banff if I really wanted. Took the ticket and had a light breakfast at the station.

Back uptown, bought some film and a Philippine lunch, not much different from Chinese. Took the False Creek Ferry across to the Maritime Museum, not so much Clyde built here, mainly coastal tugs and log carriers, plus the St Roch, the RCMP floating Arctic cop shop which twice sailed through the North West Passage.

Walked back via Granville Island, dined in a Mexican restaurant followed by beer in the Bengal Bicycle, part of the Abbotsford Hotel, very quiet, I talked to Stanley, a Ukrainian exile. Back to the Niagara, they have exotic dancers, caught the last two acts, no showers, two lads were thrown out for failing to buy beer.

Sunday 17 September — Vancouver to ...

Down to the station, checked the pack to Lake Louise, wandered back uptown and after much vacillation, had lunch in Brothers. Reasonable but not brilliant. Back to the station to catch the Canadian, 6451 and 6626 hauling a baggage car, two coach cars, Skyline car, three sleepers, dining car, three sleepers and an observation car. I got in quick for a window seat but soon acquired a neighbour. Four English sitting in front, boring people, it would be embarrassing to be associated with them.

Dinner was salmon or Cornish Hen, but when it came to the crunch (fourth sitting), the salmon had become halibut, which I would have liked, but I’d already opted for the Cornish Hen though I still don’t know what was Cornish about it.

Monday 18 September — ... Lake Louise

I thought I was early up in the dome but the best seats were already taken. However, I stayed up there for three hours to get a photo of the spiral before de-training at Lake Louise. A quick look round the village, the Park information office suggested which motel might offer the cheapest accommodation so I phoned and booked a room. There is a hostel a couple of miles away but it is closed on Mondays.

Looking north across Lake Louise village

Did my laundry before hiking up the hill to the Paradise Lodge, about halfway between the village and the lake. Booked in, washed, then went for a walk up to the lake, which was surrounded by Japanese. Back down to the village and found a pleasant bar, the Outpost, in the basement of what used to be the main building of the Post Motel and is now a small annex. They serve Big Rock Traditional Ale, from Calgary, a reasonable beer at a reasonable price (for Canada). Reasonable food too, not to mention the barmaids.

There was a sweet shop in the village which imported Edinburgh Rock. I bought some mixed fruit and nuts before hiking back up the hill in the dark, bought some milk and orange juice at the motel office and retired.

Tuesday 19 September — Lake Louise

My plan for an early start was a miserable failure. Almost ten o’clock before I hit the road, steady spots of precipitation, the occasional one being less transparent than the others. Took the track along past the lake to the Plain of the Six Glaciers, a pleasant stroll, but depending on what I counted as a separate glacier, there were either five or seven. At that height, the precipitation was definitely light snow but it wasn’t lying. The tea-house was closed.

On my return via the Big Beehive, I saw bighorn sheep on the hillside, rodents by the roadside. At the lookout on top of the Big Beehive, I was visited by a bird with a grey front, black back, some white patches, inch long matt black bill, slightly curved down, obviously looking to share my fruit and nuts, but I hardened my heart and kept within the letter of the law. (Thou shall not feed the wildlife within a National Park.)

The descent to Lake Agnes was a bit slithery, thin recent snow on the track, frozen in places, no problem if I’d been wearing boots but awkward in my cheap, four week old, falling apart, Canadian gutties. However, I got down safely and found that the Lake Agnes tea-house was open, though only for another week. A pot of tea and some cheese and walnut pate with home-made bread was very welcome. Two long wooden staircases descend either side of the lake outflow to Mirror Lake then a good track down to the lake.

A quick detour up to the lookout on Mt Fairview to see the view of the Chateau, but trees obscured most of the lake. Took the long way back to the motel for a shower and a change of clothes then down to the Outpost again for a couple of beers and a salad for supper. Back up the hill, in the dark again.

Wednesday 20 September — Lake Louise to Banff

For once, I did manage an early start, so early that there was frost on the cars outside the motel. The cloud was not much higher than yesterday, but not so heavy and occasionally allowing the sun through. Just walked to the head of the lake and back before returning to the motel for a shower and pack. Noticed that one of the shoulder straps on the pack was coming loose. Shoddy Canadian manufacture.

Down to the station in good time, no ticket office, I have to see the conductor about getting a seat. The train was ninety minutes late which I passed sitting on the platform admiring the view. The train was 6444 and 6557 hauling a steam generator, combined baggage/roomettes car, dayniter, coach, Skyline car, three sleepers, another Skyline car instead of a dining car, three sleepers and an observation car. No problem getting a seat, still ninety minutes late at Banff.

I was about to descend into the Cascade Inn Tavern when I noticed a sign - “no bare feet, no packs, no knives” - so I took my pack to the King Eddy instead, $3.05 for a bottle of Canadian, they only had OV on draft, so I just had the one before walking up the hill to the hostel and booking in for two nights. Hung around until the cafeteria opened and had baked fish for tea, not bad.

Downtown the long way, round the back of Tunnel Mountain, past the elk, then into the Cascade. A jug of Canadian was only $6.25 so I had two. I seem to be climbing a lot of hills in the dark.

Thursday 21 September — Banff

Bow River and the Rockies from the Brig o' Banff

This was Sulphur Mountain day, a long ridge to the south of Banff with hot springs on the lower slopes and a gondola to transport the infirm, the lazy and the impatient to the top.

When I set out at nine, after breakfast in the cafeteria, it was sunny but cool, for which I was much relieved as I spent the first hour and a quarter on roads to the lower gondola terminal. There was a bit of a queue, three tour buses having arrived just before me, and that was enough to swing the decision in favour of walking up and saving a few dollars (and my self-respect).

A good path underfoot, zigzagging under the gondolas. Took and hour and a half to the upper gondola terminal, not bad for 5.7km and 678m of ascent, for a man in my condition, but of course I wasn’t carrying much of a pack. (If I had been, I definitely would have used the gondola.) Half way up I passed a chap who must have been in his seventies, said his wife was feeling her age, she’d gone up in the gondola.

Along to the site of the old weather station for panoramic views over Banff and the Bow valley. Back to the gondola terminal for lunch, not too extortionate.

The summit of the mountain is further to the south, two miles return, it said, so off I went. The first bit was no bother, but then I found myself on a ledge crossing a seventy-five degree slab with nothing below for fifty feet and nothing nice below that. When the ledge narrowed to six inches, I began to think that even the Canadians wouldn’t expect your average tourist to amble along there. At the end of the ledge, the track dropped down into the trees and seemed to peter out, so I decided to backtrack and look for a route up the other end of the slab where I had seen a couple of bighorns descending.

Having re-negotiated the ledge, I met a young (German?) couple who recognised my knees, having passed me two days earlier near Lake Louise. They were now descending with difficulty where the sheep had strolled down. They had got to the summit by traversing the ledge, dropping into the trees and then straight up a rough slope to gain the crest of the ridge and back onto the top of the slabs. Having seen the sheep descend, they decided to try this route as being much shorter, but could not honestly recommend it.

I selected a different route up and it went without too much difficulty, except for the bit where the rock had been worn smooth by passing feet. I continued over two more bumps to the south, about the same height, then having definitely travelled more than a mile, decided that the next big bit must be another mountain. (Later examination of a map made me aware that I was wrong, it was the summit but maybe not the one the tourist sign meant.) My route up the slab worked well in reverse, with a minor variation at the bottom.

Looking north from the "summit"	Looking south to the real summit

Back down the mountain in the gondola for free, they only check tickets on the way up, then followed a trail through the woods to the Banff Springs Hotel and thence back to town, pausing to take the traditional view of Banff Avenue from the steps of the Park Administration Building.

Went into a pub called the Rose and Crown at half past four and ordered a pint of Big Rock Traditional and a sandwich, the beer was expensive but then I noticed that they had a Happy Hour starting at five thirty so made one pint last an hour, then had a couple more at a much more reasonable price. After that, still feeling a bit peckish, had steak for dinner in the Drifter’s Inn.

Friday 22 September — Banff

Banff from part way up Tunnel Mountain

The weather forecast promised further sunny days so I decided not to head for Toronto on Monday but to stay a bit longer here, so I booked in for another two nights. A light breakfast in the cafeteria (useful things, cafeterias), then off up Tunnel Mountain which is hardly a mountain at all being only 5000 odd feet. Good views up and down the Bow valley. The Spray River Walk turned out to be a bit boring, most of the route was on forest roads with little view of the river. Still, it was a pleasant walk in the sun. Stuck my feet in the river at the far end and it was cold. Back in town, intended to get a train ticket for Sunday but I did not have my pass with me, so loitered until it was Happy Hour at the Rose and Crown, then went in for a few pints and a bit to eat. Bought some puff candy, awfully expensive at $3.50 per 100 grams.

Saturday 23 September — Banff

Bow Falls just below Banff Springs Hotel

Weather still fine, as forecast. I had intended going out to Minniwanka Lake but couldn’t face the six or seven kilometres of road walking involved, so went for a walk to look at the Hoodies, not much, then carried on along the ridge above the river. Nearly saw some elk, heard the stag and thought I saw movement but couldn’t get close. Turned back when the ridge started dipping towards the road. Sat awhile admiring the view and some elk started climbing the ridge towards me. Quickly got the camera out but they must have seen me or smelt my pipe ’cos they turned off still low down. Cut through the camp site and the forest and down the hill back towards town. Four blocks of hotels/motels to two blocks of town on Banff Ave. Went to the station and booked a seat to Calgary for the morrow, then went into a pub called Joshua’s and drank a bit too much Big Rock Traditional. Back to the hostel and had a meal in the cafeteria. The chicken was finished so I got extra of whatever the other thing was.