Trans-Canadian: The green fairy

I mistakened my time zone yesterday! Because Canada thinks such in a weird way: they change time when I am not aware and they stay in the same even if I change province… Thus, Yoho and Kootenay, BC, are on Rocky time and I am one hour late when I wake up. But I slept so much in my uncomfortable and cold car, it doesn’t really matter anymore!
After a hot chocolate in order to reset the record straight, I hid the golden road to Golden. Trapped in the middle of two mountains range, sun is crossing the light hazy valley. Mounts has already been sent to winter quarters while the glen still shines in fall colors. Horse or cattle ranches, always surrounded by their beautiful white woody fence, run into my window. It is as moving as what has been named national, even if it is not as flamboyant… It suddenly is life in my eye, simple, country and quiet life. The rural daily life takes over. And I utterly cherish this non touristic travel through a piece of Canada.

As I reach Golden, still sunny, the road leading me to Yoho is heavy with snow. Thick and grey clouds block the view, making both the landscape and my heart sad. I nonetheless assert my tribute pilgrimage when I stop at Wapta Falls where my friend Caroline was proposed.
The ground is frosty and slippery, mountains around are blind but the walk is nice, perfect for play to the huge river falling down and hitting frozen stones. My way back is clearer, peaks start to arise from their cloudy beds, not yet sunny though.

The short trip after this promenade, quietly plays with a smiley sun. Time flight is so peculiar in the mountains, you lost track of the day. Thus, after a short and grey break at the natural bridge dug into river, I reach Emerald Lake at 2 pm, felling like it is 11 am so little day’s colors has got warm. When the sun suddenly arises though, following my lake loop, it reveals new afternoon mountains, greening a bit more Emerald’s green. Never bored with the walk, I get higher in between snowed trees in order to discover an amphitheater, proxy of my missed one in Kluane.

I think about an early revelation that I don’t recall putting on paper: walking gives me the feeling that I possess a treasure for a short moment. Gazing at it is not always enough, I can’t stay still in that look (especially in this weather), whereas walking endlessly discovering every detail of the landscape, gives me the opportunity to make what I see mine for a little while. I can leave without regret, full of the new scenery that I can praise anytime. If I don’t walk a landscape, I can’t completely get it, it doesn’t really belong to my memory. Driving gives me another way to do that. But walking… Walking is a fleeting and peculiar gift, with no commitment nor lack of freedom. Thus, because I can only feel a landscape if I walk, I don’t like when it is crowded. I may share, but one at a time please.

Then , I dream again as my steps dance. Alistair. Brigid. Deirdre. William. My doomed children impose and invite new friends. Often ready to leave. Always uprooted.
I finally reach, almost without noticing, lakes’ shores that I abandoned for the amphitheater heights. In a hurry to go “home” and find a warm place for the night in the wintery and therefore desert town of Fields. Perfect for my aching body. Ideal to warm up. Beautiful in the frozen valley setting sun.

Blossoming winter is so powerful it freezes my course though… My newly purchased car gets on strike in this middle of nowhere, jeopardizing my adventures. There is definitely something going wrong with this journey… Taking to my deaf car, I question beyond my reality. Would it be a sign I don’t take enough time? Was I wrong to buy a car? Or should I be more cautious with my wishes? When I got to this lovely place, I never wanted to leave…
I nonetheless experiment once again the reality of a place: lost in the middle of the Rockies, with no mechanic around, I have to endlessly wait for my towing. Costs included. Travel is made for that, knowing different mirrors of a country. Except I don’t really make the best of those adventures! First, because it jeopardizes my wallet and then, because I am like paralyzed, unable to enjoy my stop and explore, sleep or write.
Awaiting for the towing and the freaking bill, I only dream of one thing: being alone in the world and have such a lazy life.