Perfect getaway

Morning starts its day on our way to Jasper, sprinkled with hungry mountain goats and majestic elks, in order to send my correspondences and find my amethyst. Then, with the new travel companion I met at the Black Cat Guest Ranch, Anja, we head to Lake Maligne, to put our snowed steps into my fiend Caro’s, who was here exactly a year ago ! It feels good to change my pilgrimage for once. We cross burnt trees from another summer, stunning Lake Medicine stops us with its winter dry stream and not yet white mountains in the background. When we reach the real lake we yearned for, we walk the snowy fire road, full of our lunch sandwiches, to start our hike. My heart doubts we’ll see anything so thick the fog is, but sun wins over from time to time, and we can guess the grey lake through trees. We never reach the last view though, the one on the top of the summit; sky is too blind and the snow too uncertain. The few we get is already beautifully shy for this white autumn hike, sang by some talkative birds enchanted by Anja’s whistle.

Our way follows in the early sunset so we can reach two beautiful waterfalls, Athabasca and Sunwap, running from the Earth’s heart to mountains’ ends. Incredible. So deep in the earth’s womb, so powerful in rock’s hearts. Athabasca is particularly breathtaking when I gaze at the white mountain blushed by the sunset in the background, when I discover the blue-green still water behind me. Sunwap moves me, almost as much as Anja, with its roots so deeply uncovered by the soil’s erosion, by our aggressive steps.
Our way follows so we can reach our roof for the night. Some evergreen weirdly and beautifully turned into fall red along the road, but it is a trick, they are actually dying because of some unknown American bugs. It is therefore beautiful but sad. Night is finally completely rising as mountains undress and blur.
And the day ends in a magnificent and surprising way. I knew our organization was a bit random, I knew that weird non bookable hostel stank a bit, but I also knew that we would find a solution. I try to call them from the road phone booth, in order to get keys like they offer, but, because of some mistaken numbers, I almost call China instead! Thus, Beauty Creek hostel is closed for us, not its veranda though. Perfect and drier than the car shelter for the night. Covered with our 26 layers and our 50 sleeping bags, we snuggle in our improvised movies theater to watch The Mask until my computer dies. Precious memory full of sparkles for my eyes, full of glitters for my heart, so beautiful with almost nothing this moment is! Back to the evening darkness, we can only play witches for a little while, before meeting our frozen dreams.

In the early morning, like usual after those sleeping bag nights that I start to enjoy, I awake like an early bird. But sun rises later than me and I snooze a bit for a few soft minutes before discovering frozen and beautiful Beauty Creek for my first steps of the day. The tiny stream, when it is not iced or snowed by winter, slowly runs towards Columbia glaciers in the far, from yesterday waterfalls in my back.

Warmed by this cool promenade, the car drives us through the white morning to better jump into Columbia Icefield. It is so magic to see all those translucent and immortal blue glaciers covered in snow, breaking with my Alaskan Exit Glacier still green of summer. It snowed so much on the road then, that we can’t go deeper in the glacier. Instead, we gaze, almost from heaven, at magnificent Saskatchewan River as we swing into a breathtaking sun.
We stop, still a bit cold, at Mistaya Canyon. Once again, it is the epic tale of waters digging into rocks, of a slow erosion, of its furious current. Once again, it is an immortal adventure that moves me in an unspoken way. Morning finally arises, shinning and starving. Everything is closed and we should be rushing towards the next town. Yet, every frozen waterfall stops me, every sparkling lake attracts me, giving me for only company a grumpy and hungry friend. Thankfully, we stop stopping at some point and reach our untasty meal.
Once our stomach is warm and Anya’s mood improved, we are ready to hike Lake Louise mesmerizing blue, its surrounding black rocks, its fleeting winter snow, its immortal ices. Waterfall’s sound frozen in stalagmite and naked trees crossed by sun in the snow are like a fairy tale as we try to reach Alice in Wonderland’s tea house. We won’t see the final glacier though, because I am already thinking our return by foot in the snow, because I am already thinking of our return by car in the dark. Too bad, we would have had time, but, then we wouldn’t have met our sweet wandering porc-epine, perfect end for that changing day. The glacier doesn’t matter that much is the end, the whole walk was so breathtaking, my eyes sparkles with stars until late we drive back to our big mountain ranch.