The lakes of Jasper

7/25/2017

Well, I didn’t see any mountains today.

Just kidding! Of course I saw mountains. But I also saw a lot of lakes

I was fortunate to have another day of almost complete clarity, despite the increasing number of forest fires in Alberta and B.C. The sun blazed brightly in the sky, pulling the chill from the earth and tricking the people of Jasper into venturing outside, only to fell them with its rays right where they stood. The whole town looked quite peculiar, being filled entirely with citizens sprawled out on the nearest lawn like a bunch of sentient solar panels. I found myself feeling very much as I should join them, but resisted in favor of adventure, figuring that the brilliant wonderful weather probably wouldn’t hold for forever.

Jane and I struck out towards the Maligne Lake area, stopping to see Medicine Lake along the way. I, of course, could not resist an impromptu photoshoot when I found an empty turnout.

This is the kind of picture I take when there's too many bugs on my windshield.

Maligne Lake was thick with canoers and kayakers plying the waters. People lined its banks, sunbathing and dabbling their toes in the lake. The lake and the surrounding forest have an odd way of softening sounds, reducing the noise of humanity to a low hum. No shrieks of children, shouting parents, or loud music here. It is, in a word, idyllic.

I considered renting a canoe to venture out onto the lake myself with the intent of seeing Spirit Island, a frequently-photographed destination. But the sun had warmed me to laziness, and I was loathe to row out onto the cooler lake. Instead, I took one of the nearby trails around part of the lake up to some overlooks.

Historic boat house at Maligne Lake - still in operation since 1928! 

Thought the ripples were really interesting.

My path back to the parking lot routed me through the solitude of the forest, where sound was dampened even further. My boots thudded dully on the forest floor in a sound that can only be made when treading on thick, rich loam. The forests here are much different than those I’ve seen growing up on the East Coast. There, hardwood trees grow tall, brambles and bushes sprout between stumps, and thick wet leaf litter covers the ground. Here, the forests are much drier and are populated by evergreens and mosses. Because the trees don’t drop their leaves, mosses grow in a thick carpet across the whole forest floor unobstructed, a much more pleasant cover than the leaf litter I’ve been used to. The afternoon sunlight played across the floor, illuminating the different mosses in a kaleidoscope of hues of green and yellow as I made my way down the trail. It seemed almost a dream world, light diffusing in a glow to envelop the forest. Incredible and entirely impossible to capture with my meager camera.

Eventually I found myself back at the parking lot, jarred suddenly back into the machinery of everyday life. The afternoon still had some light left in it – of course it did, since it doesn’t really get dark til after 11 PM here – so Jane and I went to visit Pyramid Lake.

Along the way, we ran into some non-vehicular road occupants: bighorn sheep! Bighorn sheep have always proved exceptionally resistant to humanity’s demands, I’ve found. They cannot be moved from where they wish to be, and that’s that. So I watched them saunter down the road, amused by the chain of traffic they created in their wake.

Fortunately, they were not in my lane, so Jane and I were able to move on in good order. I drove the length of Pyramid Lake, stopping for some pictures and to enjoy a rehabilitated island at the end of the lake. Apparently, this island used to be in very poor condition as it was “loved to death” by tourists, but a project from a local conservancy group worked to restore it with new vegetation, trails, and soil to restore it to its former state. Very cool stuff.

I returned to my campsite to the swarming of thousands of mosquitoes. It appears that I’m camped next to a creek that has spots moving slowly enough for them to breed, and the warmth of the sun brought them out in force while I was gone today. Fortunately, the nights here are cool enough that I was able to wear my hoodie with the hood up to keep them away from me as I cooked dinner. But ugh! I do really hate mosquitoes. Traveling in the desert for so long kind of made me forget how much of a nuisance they are.

Now holed up in my tent to avoid their incessant buzzing… it’ll be another cold one tonight and I can’t wait to bundle up. This is a far cry from Texas, that’s for sure. Kelly signing out.