Of all the days on the road, I think today was the day that brought me the most excitement. I was in Invermere, right in the heart of the Kootenays, and headed through Kootenay National Park and Banff National Park. Both are absolute national treasures and areas close to my heart that I’m looking forward to exploring.
Leaving Invermere, Highway 93 separates from Highway 95 and ducks east into Kootenay National Park. The change in scenery is stark, entering a beautiful canyon that winds into the mountains.
The heart of Kootenay National Park is filled with truly spectacular scenery. As I continue east, the scenery gets better, and the athleticism of the roads continues to decline. Don’t get me wrong, I’m having a fantastic time – but this part of the trip really is about exploring the countryside and less about an aggressive jaunt on the motorcycle.
I pulled over into a small alcove where the highway crosses the Kootenay River. The current was swift, and I am sure the water is cold. I walked away for a bit and saw my bike sitting next to the bridge. The willingness out here takes more cues from Alaska rather than Northern California. There are bears out there. There are grizzly bears out there. In other words, some bears eat humans out there. Bear spray is a must to travel off the beaten path – and I didn’t have any. Probably not the most brilliant move, but I’m not planning to venture far from the motorcycle, hauling all of my gear into the wilderness.
As I turned around to leave my little alcove, it sort of dawned on me where I was. There have been a ton of mechanics to get here: figuring out how to get the bike to Vancouver, planning the trip, ironing out all the connecting details, riding 1,500 km to physically arrive, and being in one of the world’s most beautiful places. Radium Hot Springs, located in Banff, indicated adventures behind pointed towards adventures ahead. Life is good.
As I made my way further into the park, the next landmark was the Continental Divide – the place where water flows to the Atlantic or the Pacific oceans. I’ve crossed the Continental Divide only three times in my life: once in my 20s moving out to California, once in my 30s proving to myself I could ride a motorcycle coast-to-coast, and now in my 40s exploring one of Canada’s best places. It’s always a special moment for me as it signifies actual distance from home, and this time, especially doing so in a foreign country.
At the top of the Divide, I ran into a woman from Alberta. She asked me about my trip, and I explained the basics: coming from California, venturing out from Vancouver, and meeting her here, figuring out which ocean’s water flows into which. We both laughed. The conversation drifted to the state of affairs in America, and you could see concern on both of our faces. Canada has its liberal and conservative factions, just like the United States. Alberta is one of the most conservative provinces within Canada, and it has often clashed with more liberal provinces and the federal government. We discussed those motions, which highlight that, well, sometimes politics can get spicy. There’s a much clearer line in the sand about what it means to be Canadian (even more so recently) than we find in the States. Unity is a country, and even as a Commonwealth, is essential here. Sure, the provinces fight as families and close relatives do – but the polarization going on in the States doesn’t really exist here, and that is something I have come to really value.
Highway 93 crosses Trends Canada in the heart of Banff National Park. Here we are in one of Canada’s most acknowledged beautiful places, and we have a four-lane freeway running right through the center of the park – something we would never find in the United States. Why? It appears to stem from the extreme Canadian geography, the high cost of building infrastructure, and the limited population base to sustain it. There is one road that runs from west to east in this area. Is there a national park that surrounds it? So be it. We can’t reroute the road around the national park, so we have to go through it. It’s a very different motion that I’m used to down south.
As I was taking pictures of the animal crossing bridges (pictured below), someone tapped me on the shoulder, asking if I was taking pictures of speeders. I just laughed and said Hey, I’m a traveler from Northern California looking through the park. He replied, “Oh wow, with your camera and gear, I thought you were the police looking for speeders!” We both got a hearty good laugh out of that one.
I decided to stop for lunch in Lake Louise, and wow, is that town packed with people, almost to the point of being claustrophobic. I remember coming here in 2013 to photograph a wedding reception for two lifelong friends of mine. Today’s experience couldn’t have been more different than it was back then. It seemed like busloads and busloads of people were coming into the park. Parking was scarce. Restaurants were overcrowded. I grabbed some food to go and then headed back into the rain.
I wanted to see the Icefields Parkway. I recall this place being fantastic during my trip here in 2013. The Icefields Parkway was the key driver of mileage on the trip, as it was the furthest point away from Vancouver, much like Milford Sound on the New Zealand trip. As I began the Icefields Parkway in earnest, the Ministry of Transportation warned me of two key facts: I would not have cell service for several hundred kilometers, and gas was 150 km away. I had 150 miles of gas left in the tank, but range gauges are always a bit of an inexact science.
As I continued to ride, the weather continued to deteriorate. The wind kicked in. Then it started drizzling. Then it started raining off and on, and then it rained continuously. As I crossed over Bow Summit, I saw Bow Lake, and it was as beautiful as I remember it – maybe even more so. Crawford Glacier was intact, and Bow Lake’s majestic blue waters came through even in the inclement weather. But I couldn’t quite figure out why all the no-parking signs were cut and lying on the ground.
As I continued north, it became very apparent I had a decision to make. If I continued, I would be committing to a place called the Saskatchewan River Crossing, about 40 kilometers down the road. I wasn’t confident enough in my gas range to continue, and then I decided to turn around later. Dammit, should’ve gotten gas in Lake Louise. This stretch of pavement is a main corridor to Jasper National Park and back to Highway 97, which funnels traffic onto Alaska.
I decided to stop. I looked down the road and decided that the next 3300 km could look the same all the way to Anchorage: rugged, mountainous, and wet. My experience in Alaska was similar to my experience here. In that moment, I decided it was time to head back home. The adventure continued, but now it was about focusing on a new destination: returning to Vancouver by crossing a different part of the BC Interior, namely Rogers Pass.
I made my way back to Lake Louise, as I wasn’t going to make it to Golden without fuel. As I was preparing to leave the gas station, a younger man approached me asking about my motorcycle. I estimate he is in his mid-to-late 20s. He was curious about my story. Motorcycles with faraway plates tend to spur organic conversation – usually ones that I enjoy. He lived in Calgary and recently relocated to Lake Louise to take a job at the Fairmont, where he runs audiovisual for corporate events. Since the summertime usually dictates large amounts of weddings, this is his downtime to go out and explore the province. Here I’m thinking, “Wow, that sounds like a pretty amazing gig!” He recently picked up a Kawasaki KLR 650, a legendary adventure bike in its own right. He was just beginning to explore this area on his bike and was happy to chat for as long as I was willing to hold the conversation. I enjoyed the moment, and it continually reinforces that guys with bikes like to talk with guys who have bikes about experiences on their bikes, LOL.
I noticed an extreme itch on the left side of my stomach that wouldn’t go away. As I peeled away multiple layers of clothing and protective gear, I saw two insulin pump sites that were clearly unhappy. Something infected both of these dormant sites that needed attention. Ironically, the current pump site was doing just fine. I found a hospital in Golden that was open when I’d arrive in town tonight. I checked the travel insurance company’s website for preferred providers and saw that they can’t display preferred providers in Canada. WTF?
I called the travel insurance company and was presented with a series of menus of redirects. After finally getting to someone who could answer my call, you could hear him sigh, Oh Canada, that’s going to be a long time for me to help you. Frustrated, I decided to head to Golden and figure out reimbursement plans later.
I got lucky at the hospital. I was triaged and taken into care right away. They had a room available for me to chill out in with a few other patients. The person next to me and her boyfriend seemed to be the chatter of the community. Through the fabric dividers, I got to hear all about her wedding, who was invited, who was clearly not invited, where her fiancee could do a better job supporting the wedding… literally non stop for 45 minutes. While the distraction and the passage of was nice, wow she could talk.
I looked out on dinner at the Wolf’s Den in downtown Golden. It’s a mixture of things: steakhouse, honky-tonk, and tonight was live music out on the patio. The restaurant was full of patrons and the mosquitoes were happy to attend as well. Browsing the menu, the bison ribs with poutine looked like the perfect Canadian meal after a fun and adventurous day for this national park hopper! And yes, dinner was as good as it looked!
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