Day 7 - L'ennui

Airdrie, AB to Banff, AB
3628km - 3940km
Elliott Smith - New Moon
This American Life podcasts
Mogwai - The Hawk is Howling
Yo La Tengo - And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out

Today was not a terribly good day. I cried a lot, and was really grumpy. We pulled into the parking lot of Mountain Equipment Co-op and when Colin asked me why I was in such a bad mood, I burst out crying and said I didn't know. Being his wonderful self, he tried to comfort me, but then uttered the phrase that really set me off: he said that tomorrow, we'd be home. I lost it, wailing that it wasn't home and that I was scared and worried and upset. I don't know why yesterday was such a bad day for me. Maybe I was just feeling the results of 7 days of driving, where all I feel that I'd been doing was driving, sleeping, eating, and talking to strangers about anything from how I wanted my tea, to how they needed to get out of the motel room because I was naked. My mom suggested that maybe it was because it was Michael's birthday and I wasn't there to celebrate with the family. This seemed pretty feasible. Whatever it was, I didn't make life very pleasant for Colin, I don't think. Michael and my dad both told me that these next 2 days would be the nicest driving of the trip, and that I was going to see mountain goats and bighorn sheep and bears and eagles on the side of the highway. This made me feel better, and I knew that part of my bad mood also had to do with wanting to get out of the city (Calgary). Nothing against Calgary, it's just that when you don't know a city, all you really get to see of it while passing through is fast food joints, malls and super centres.

So we left MEC with two down sleeping bags and some more camping stuff, as the plan was to camp when we got to Banff. It was nice and warm out, which I heard was a vast difference from back home, where my mom claimed to be wearing 8 layers of clothes. I actually had to change into a tank top because I was baking. Then we headed to Spruce Meadows! I tried to perk up, thinking about going to visit a place I've dreamt about going to for years. It worked, a little bit...but the place was nearly deserted as no events were on, the tack shop was closed, the rings were all cleared, and we saw a total of 8 horses, 7 of them in their stalls. Not that I'm complaining about that part...I got to pet the noses of beautiful Hanoverian 3 year olds, and see some of the new jumps being built. I think that my horsie peeps and I need to plan a trip to Spruce Meadows for a big event next year! I heard that there were 60,000 people there 3 weeks ago for the Masters. It sounds unbelievable and so exciting. Who's in?? Nikki, I'm looking at you!!

Then, it was off to the mountains. We got into Banff National Park around 2pm and walked around downtown for a bit. It was pretty ridiculously touristy, and I really had no interest in it. It's just a little obscene. I could imagine that the lodges and inns in town were easily hundreds of $$ per night, and the downtown was a mecca of Gap, Lululemon and McDonalds. Okay I'm being a little harsh here, but this was my impression, heavy influenced by my grumpiness.

We discovered that there were only 2 campgrounds open at this time of year. You weren't allowed to have fires at one of them, and it was right in town, so we weren't too keen on this one. (Truth be told, I wasn't too keen on the idea of camping at all, considering that the sun was still up and I was cold in a sweater). The other was at a place called Mosquito Lake, around 40km from town. This place apparently wasn't manned by any staff, and had no shower facilities. Normally, I don't care about showering when camping, but when you're going to be sitting in your own camp filth for the whole next day in the car, I wasn't too keen. But Colin convinced me that we could stay the night at the campsite and then head to Lake Louise and use the showers at the trailer camp there. Nothing could convince me that camping was a good idea, but I knew Colin wanted to do it, and I'm not a TOTAL whiny bitchy princess, so I went along with it. However, before heading to the campsite, we went to the Banff Upper Hot Springs. This was where I started to relax a little bit, as I was looking forward to going to the hot spring. I read about it being good for relaxation, so just the idea of this set me more at ease. It was definitely nice -- like a big hot tub at 39 celcius. However, they've modernized it to the point that it is just literally a big swimming pool, with a vinyl bottom and benches built along the edges, metal ladders, and a lifeguard. I guess when it comes to tourists and water that they are going to immerse themselves in, it's an easier bet that if you make it look modern and totally safe, more people will buy into it. But that aside, it was still lovely and relaxing.

So now, it was on to the campsite. As we got out of the town of Banff, it began to rain. Then it got dark. The drive wasn't nearly as harrowing as a few days ago to Dryden, but I just felt my heart sinking lower and lower. Here I am, trying to be brave and optimistic, when all I feel like doing is pouting and stomping my feet. Colin was obviously aware of the fact that the conditions weren't exactly optimal for my enjoying this thing that he's really trying to get me into (camping) and was saying that if the weather got really bad, I could just go in the tent and he would cook my dinner and bring it to me, and that he would set everything up etc etc. I appreciated it, though I'm sure he didn't get that impression.

We turn into the campsite, and see a fire burning, which is a good sign. In bear country, when they are getting ready to hibernate, it's not really a fun idea to be on your own in the middle of nowhere with bear warnings posted and written down in brochures for the park. We chose a site, and Colin started to set up. We hadn't gotten any wood aside from one easy-burn log from Safeway, because the guy at the information centre had said, when we asked about getting wood, that there would be some at the campground. It was still raining lightly but constantly, and there was no wood to be found on the ground. Especially in the pitch black, guided only by a small LED flashlight. Even if I hadn't felt totally guilty and unhappy about ripping branches off nearby trees, they were so wet that they wouldn't have even broken off, much less burned. We were able to get the easy-burn log going in a half-assed manor, and set about cooking our veggie dogs and asparagus. The ground was wet and muddy, and the picnic table was too soggy to sit on -- I laid out a garbage bag, but this quickly got wet also. The hot dogs were yummy and the asparagus was pretty much perfect, but I still wasn't terribly satisfied -- not hunger-wise, just in general. This wasn't a case of "the more effort required to cook the food, the better it tastes." It was just a pain in the ass, cold, wet and dirty. By that point, I was wearing flannel pajama pants and sweatpants, a hoodie and a jacket, and a toque. But I was so cold and soggy that as soon as the food had been consumed, I headed for the tent. The sleeping bags were cozy, by we still had a leaky air mattress, so the knowledge of its imminent deflation didn't make me excited for the coming night's sleep. After a night of total discomfort, we were out of there. Colin was not impressed with me after the first thing I said in the morning was "I'm glad I never have to do this again."

AND ALL WE SAW WERE FAT RAVENS. NOTHING ELSE.