Throughout the four plus hour journey from PG to Jasper, it came to us that our decision was not at all to be met with retrospective acclaim. Wind, snow, dark, windy roads, steep roads, hairpin turns, icy roads....we found ourselves in myriad moments of wonder. Wondering, that is, if this was a good idea to drive through the Jasper pass, through the valley of driving snow and on to the higher land of the inner Rocky ridge of Jasper. Through moments of absolute blindness and showers of passing logging trucks and pickups...we plodded on.
We did, though. We made it.
We arrived in Jasper just a touch after 11pm, AB time, and found ourselves with enough gusto left to lay down our bags in the hotel room and venture off into the wilds of the city. After the obligatory disposal of a christian prayer booklet into the trash container, we left (infuriated that my room had been preyed upon by the monolithic, self indulgent and demonstrably ignorant Gideons...or at least I was). To go next door. But they had beer, and I needed a beer. We needed a beer. Winding down from a hectic drive longer than anticipated and a gleeful relapse into the moments of our journey west earlier the previous year, we made a calming settlement in the back corner of the bustling pub and drank in the relaxation.
Ending our moments of calm in the pub with the last shout for drinks, we ambled onto the street and sauntered casually towards the nearest eatery. What I though was the lively and awakened night life of Jasper, I came to realize that there was none. No food, brother. No food. We managed (upon my strong request) to find a place, closing its doors moments after our arrival, and sat amused at luck, awaiting our pizza.
I ate too much pizza, but it was good.
So, then, here are some moments from the weekend spent hiking (bare rocky crests of mountain climbs, gravel bedded scrambles...) above the snow, trailing the paw prints of recent cougar trails and in the briskly honest and unlimited sky of Jasper.
A vivid example of that which PG has not, and what Jasper has much of. Beauty, cleanliness and rugged appeal.
Bighorn sheep....nestled in a perch among the flatness of the mountain side. How on earth it managed to get there, well I cant say I know. But it did, I know that.
A close up of same sheep - if you can, it would serve your interest well to try to zoom in on its feet and see just exactly what it is not standing on.
Things that young-earth creationists tread lightly upon - fold in rock, truth, evidence, and so on. Here is a beautifully prone view of a mountain that has undergone tectonic play. The snow dusting of the winter afternoon illuminated the geology quite nicely, more so than compared to the summer sun alone.
Warning sign.
Jasper in the morning.
Post-hiking rest by our car on the side of the Icefields Parkway (well, the north eastern section of what will be the icefields pkwy).
Me, hiking along the barren and dry ridge we sought after. Dressed for the wind and the blistering coldness of the peak, while appreciating the warmth and serenity of the sun.
Me, taking a rest on the way back down.
Me, by the river, by the road.
Crystal by the same river, by the same road. It is really tough to wake up and see this view. Really, really tough.
Crystal taking a pensive moment along the hike. This is where we saw the bulk of the cougar prints.
Us, in our winter hiking prime.
The drive home, PG bound.
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