I Finally Made It To The Mountains
When I was young my dad would always tell me stories about driving out west to the mountains in a van, staying in random places, doing odd jobs here and there, and just exploring Canada. He was a farm guy, knew how to repair all of his own stuff because he'd worked on cars and planes (not the professional way, in a fixer upper kind of way). He would tell me stories of his adventures, and never let the truth get in the way of a good story. I've always wanted to explore this way, just going somewhere and seeing what happens. New people, new places, maybe it works maybe it doesn't, but either way getting a story out of it. At some point, he told me “A story is the currency of life,” and that kind of stuck. Everywhere you go and everyone you meet, everyone just wants some fun stories. I think the wisdom is pretty on the ball, but you could not imagine how on the ball it was when he was telling stories over a hash oil lined pin of a joint that had 4 people off the zoinkys. There are many reasons I don't think particularly highly of him, but there are still some great memories and he still raised me, so there's still love there. I guess part of that is his stories helped form some of my dreams of exploration and how I want to do it.
My grandfather also told stories of going out west to the mountains. He wasn't the most outdoorsy guy, he was a business guy and quite a square, down to the physical shape of him. I'm talking as close as a real person can get to Disney's UP levels of square. His story always seemed to center more around Mt. Temple. To be frank, it was probably just something he read about, but the general concept of him having been to Banff and him telling me about Mt Temple, the ideas are connected. Now that I'm writing this I can't imagine him hiking up a mountain, but maybe when he was younger and his ankles weren't quite as swollen he was more adventurous than he was in old age. Either way, he also made me yearn for the mountains. His dinner time stories were the first times I thought of the mountains not as this mythical place in the yonder, but had me looking up how I could realistically go.
My mom also somehow had an experience living in a van in the mountains near Banff. She said they would just drive around and pull over whenever they saw something they wanted to do or needed to sleep or something. You can't do that now, and I don't really have any more information from her spare the extremely obtuse general story, but that means that everyone older than me in my close family I've known for years has been out there. The last is my sister, who with her disability I'd put at unlikely to be on any large or difficult hikes, so I guess that leaves me to go see the mountains.
I seriously considered doing the whole van life thing for a couple of years. Tall Mercedes Sprinter, load it up, Murphy bed, water system, electrical, everything mapped out and costed in my uni days. I just needed the money for that damn van. Then Covid happened, van life became a cool way for people to live vicariously by watching people travel while staying at home, and the price of tall sprinter vans went way up. Family tensions of the time rising also made it harder to balance being the only one in contact with both my dad's and mom's side of the family. That, by extension, would have made it harder to have the van (I live on my mom's side) and make the van (building things was my dad's side). That idea was really cool, but unfortunately was just not to be.
Time skip, couple more years down the line, The Muggies was back for its second annual occurrence with all its glory, gold, and glamour. We had many esteemed guests in from across the planet in an awe-striking event of Jungian synchronicity, coalescing under the vaulted ceilings of a lavish party room for a night like no other. It was a night so monumental that legend wouldn't be able to approach the experience of actually being there. Many memories were made, a couple engaged, and I chatted with a first time guest to The Muggies who, conveniently to the plot line presented so far in this story, happens to live in Calgary.
I know, I know, some readers may be rolling their eyes at plot conveniences like this, but if plot conveniences didn't happen like that, the story wouldn't be told. It's survivourship bias. You couldn't imagine how many sci-fi stories get scrapped part way through the story because the main characters died before the big finale. Could you imagine being the author of a story like that? It would be crushing.
Anyways, this guest, Elena, and I kept in touch, mostly about UFC events as they happened. It took 5 or 6 hints that I wanted to go hiking I think for her to probably start to feel slightly comfortable with the concept of me being around. Eventually we were left with the decision for pre or post wildfire season. We looked at potential schedules of when it could work and how to move around and such, and looking at the calendar, we decided on pre. The week of May 5th was promising for both of us, and while there were some days that weren't ideal, work and such getting in the way, there were enough working days to get us in the mountains twice, then I could explore more of Calgary by my lonely on the last days.
I booked the flights in a rush, then got asked where I was planning on staying. I checked the cost of hotels, and seeing some extremely convenient places in mountains, I checked my bank and asked if there was any extra couch space. The order of operations made this a rather bold and brash moment, but there was indeed a blow up couch, and with that and a rental car, the trip was set. We came up with some loose plans, and from there, the waiting game was on.
I left for Calgary at 6:30 AM. I got to the airport a bit after 4 30 AM and was at the terminal by 4 45. Turns out on domestic flights if all you have is one backpack you can practically just walk through the entire airport with no problems. I listened to some music because the airport wasn't particularly comfy, got on the flight which also wasn't comfy enough to sleep on, then showed up in Calgary at a whopping 8 30 AM with a timezone change. This was one of the aforementioned days where Elena had real life responsibilities, and I picked the early flight because it was cheapest. I got an absolutely banging shawarma that some Torontonians still struggle to comprehend, then started wandering to see what was around town. I was in a sleep deprived zombie state, and in my several hours of wandering just like the intro to Rambo First Blood, I ended up in a coffee shop. I was wiped, and I'd done everything I could think of. My body was telling me it was around the end of the work day, so I checked the time to see I'd made it all the way to almost 1 PM. I wandered back past the house and managed to catch a family member there. I got invited in, and the next thing I remember was waking up when everyone got back home after work.
We had a delicious family dinner on the 4th, we chatted and laughed and it was a fun yet surreal experience. Something that worked out when we were planning the trip was that my dad, probably the person I was copying the most in making this trip, died on May 5th 2023. This event hit my grandpa hard and tanked his cognitive function. My sister has a feeding tube, and my mother eats sporadically on a different schedule from me. I don't exactly have family dinners anymore. With the lack of family dinners in my life and my already, I'll put it as, rambunctious style, I was a little worried about how it might work out. Often times, being around a family in general is a weird enough experience. Luckily I'm over the days of normal families making me bitter, but seeing families just be families is still something I have to actively figure out each time. I am pleased to report that this was a great family dinner. The food was delicious. The family was friendly. I ate until I couldn't anymore, and chatted to my heart's content. I had prepared for the chance of this being a bit of a mental landmine, but I managed to even forget all about those stresses for the time being. Freshly napped but still exhausted, I got a brief introduction to the chainmail making process, then I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow, off to the next day.
Off to the mountains! Elena found a gorgeous queen, Adele, who wanted to hike too. We found the bear spray, learned that it expired a decade ago, got new bear spray, and hit the road. The mountains were off in the distance, then they got bigger, then they got bigger, then they were all around us the the point that I couldn't see the peaks while I was driving. There were goats and caribou or something on the side of the road (it was hard to look too closely since I was driving). There were waterfalls around us. There were patterns in the snow peaks that sure may appear in pictures, but they're just so much more to actually see there. I saw the exit for Mt Temple, and let me tell you, that was a big mountain. It was a monolith that just towered above us and I was awe struck. We stopped in town for a coffee and to pick up some IPAs for the hike, and off we went.
We parked, and it was a short walk to Lake Louise. Elena and Adele had both been there and said it was incredible and the colour of the water was just something that had to be experienced. I am still yet to experience it, because as it would turn out, it was still frozen. It's not that it wasn't incredible, we just weren't expecting it to be ice. We walked on the ice a bit and Adele and I got some pictures, then we decided to take a look at the further hikes. There was a tea shop at one of the farther points that was interesting to me as a tea guy, so we set our sights on that. It was a more difficult hike, but I'd trained for this. We walked 10 meters, then confronted with snow and ice on the path, put our crampons on and got moving.
At the start, I was off to the races and the girls were finding their footing. I'd trained a lot for the uphill march on the treadmill as much as I could, but slowly the turns did table. The girls warmed up, and I was once again confronted with one of my greatest enemies: the direction up. We would make good progress but I quickly realized I couldn't eat or drink despite knowing that my body needed it. I started to slowly feel worse and worse, needing more stops. These stops had absolutely stunning views, which helped my case for trying to be cool and not admit that I was stopping because I was physically suffering. I'm a 25 year old guy, I'm supposed to not only be invincible but also be nonchalant about it. My stomach had dropped and couldn't hold anything. My kidney or something in that area started aching, and another internal pain started to make me realize I could hardly walk. I stopped and kind of looked at the girls who were frolicking having the time of their lives, and I was ready to admit that I wasn't going to make it. I shouldn't be Icarus, and I should probably turn back before my body rejects me. They told me we were in sight of the last staircase, which went up beside a beautiful waterfall. I just had to make the last 50 odd meters happen, so I pushed on just a little bit more.
We made it to the top, and the tea shop was boarded up and closed. The lake up there was frozen too, so we sat on the top of a bench that was covered in snow to snack and recover. Elena gave me some grapes, and I could feel each and every one sink into my stomach like it was lead. I made it through half a sandwich baggie and I could feel the acid, but I couldn't bring myself to eat any of the carbs we brought because they looked too dry. We sat and chatted, some strangers chatted too, and slowly but surely, I started to recover. I guess my body found those calories and put them to work on maintaining my vitals. I opened the IPA we bought in town, and as someone who usually hates pictures, we had taken in the view and got to work posing. I think instead of just taking pictures, we got experimental enough that I really found there was a lot of joy to be had here. It really felt like we were putting together some art, and with some inspiration from JoJo's, we really got some great pictures like I've never taken before. I think I would be happy getting several of these framed.
I brought my dad's aviation jacket with me in my bag in case it was cold. The hike was hard enough that I had to take off my sweater that I wore there because despite the snow, I was overheating. I guess a piece of him was with me up there. I'd planned a little something to commemorate him, but in the end, the jacket didn't make it out of the bag, and I think that was the best way. I'll take the inspiration that brought me there, but I think it's fair to say that we made it to the top of the mountain on our own adventure. I don't have much family left, so I don't really get to tell most of the people that inspired me that I got to go up the mountains. It may be a bit melancholy, but on the other side I found it rather freeing. It's just mine. In it's own way, I think that kind of makes this trip the farthest step from home for me, the most notable instance of me just doing things as I want to do them. No need for family to supervise. No need for extensive planning. No need for anything. Just going somewhere and seeing what happens. Kind of like when they take the farthest step away from home in Lord of the Rings. This was the farthest I've been in my own little path I make for myself. I liked it a lot, and I want to do more of it.
One more generation on top of the mountains.
We made it back down the mountain, which was way faster and easier than the way up, and on the return, found ourselves by a lake for the sunset. We skipped stones while the sun slowly went down, then made the drive back home. There were other fantastic adventures I had on this trip too. The Dinosaur Museum, the hoodoos, Drumheller in general, the lookout over the valley, the mountaintop by Banff, the hike with the waterfalls, getting the gay talk, the comfy tree, the market. I had an amazing trip, and would like to thank Elena and her family for hosting me and being so kind. None of this would have been possible without you.
Life could be a dream All my precious plans would come true If you could take me up to paradise up above
Oncle Spenny