“How were the Rockies?” and with a
deep breath, some awkward facial expresssions and hand gestures I
do my best to say something nice. For you se as we head out of Canada,
we've clocked up over 5000km of driving and seen so, so much.
There was over 3 days of driving along
the Alaska Highway. Plunging twists and bends, bears, buffulo,
caribou, deer, elk and mountain goats were all part of the scenery
driving from Alaska across The Yukon and northern British Columbia.
In the evenings we'd try to sit up and
watch the stars come out, but even by 10pm a dull glow on the western
horizon kept the night sky at bay. We begged the northern lights to
come out and dazzle, but unfortunately they were very quiet and we
saw no displays.
Entire lakes, valleys and mountain
ranges were ours to enjoy and we soaked up the wide spaces and
freedom like sponges.
And then came the Rockies. Tourist
hoardes, wet weather and over pricing. This is why I can say little
positive about this grand part of the world. So I'll move on. An elk
did wander through our campsite in Jasper which was very cool. And
Emerald Lake, which is as every bit as good as Lake Louise except
without the busloads of tourists, was very special.
My hands are hardening like setting
concrete. Freezing nights, wet mornings and 3 straight weeks of
living outdoors has added more than a little starch to my once
delicate digits. Add the occasional misguided tent peg hammering
incident, wood chopping entanglement and fire poking gone wrong and
my hands resemble something more err masculine.
Soon we'll be arriving at Yellowstone
National Park and they better have some bloody moose there. We've
spent hours searching, seeking, waiting, wanting to glimpse these
bizarre creatures. Wasn't Rocky and Bullwinkle set in Yellowstone?
The world's most indirect travellers,
Josh and Shona.
