Returning to the Crowsnest

The sun is so deceptive - even at night it seems like it never really gets dark for very long. The tent was packed up very quickly since the mosquitoes were just as hungry this morning as they were last night and I've now developed a system: pegs in the bag, dew covered poles folded up and placed in the hatch, rain soaked fly over the back seat, wet footprint over the fly, and finally the tent dries on the floor of the car. Away we head for the Crowsnest Pass!
Every other time that I can recall going out there, it has always been via #1 highway and then drop down to the #3 but not this time; this time I was going to take in some of the places I'd never seen before and I'm glad I did. There really is a Starship Enterprise in Vulcan and the town of Nanton has a couple of gems: two old prairie grain elevators
and an airforce museum complete with


Lancaster Bomber


panel art work


and Victoria Cross.
Needless to say, I didn't get to my aunt's place when I expected to.
Highway 22 south is a beautiful drive - all twisty and hilly going through the foothills of the Rockies until all of the sudden you find yourself spat out onto highway #3.
You'd think I'd have been smart enough to bring my aunt's address along, but no, of course not. How many brown houses could there possibly be along the river in Blairmore? Fortunately, not many, and no others that look like hers.
Auntie Marion's place tends to be a hub of activity whenever I'm there with all of the cousin's popping in at least once. It probably didn't hurt that there was a wedding going on on Saturday, so everyone was around.
I was ecstatic when she suggested that we go saskatoon picking while taking Harlo for a walk. I'm afraid I've missed the best part of the berry season back home, but darn it, it's going to find its way to me somehow. It was that night that we learned dogs like saskatoons straight from the tree. Good taste!

A Tale of Dinosaurs and Mosquitoes

Tenting is great because you go to sleep when the sun goes down and wake up when one of the following happens: the snoring guy in a tent 3 sites down wakes you up; the sound of birds wakes you up; the rain falling on your tent, turning it into a giant drum wakes you up. It was the latter in this case, and with it being daylight out and me not having a watch, I figured I had slept in. In reality, it was probably no later than 6:00. No matter. The IGA in town was 24 hours, the bank machine didn't care when a person took money out, and there were plenty of trails around to explore. I decided to check one out very close to the dino museum, expecting a very rudimentary path with fauna overtaking the walking space. Instead, it was a fully paved trail about 5 feet wide with the flora carefully trimmed to its edges.




It was a nice path, but built more for roller bladers, so I turned around and headed toward the Royal Tyrrell.



It has been 21 years since the last visit to the RTM. The seven-year-old in me came back out as soon as I got into the parking lot. I couldn't wait!



The first thing you see when you get into the gallery is this

Oddly enough, I saw more little kids terrified by this

The initial display was gorgeous. Set up like a posh art gallery, the exhibits were put in ornate frames, often on velvet backgrounds and classical music was piped in. This wasn't how the entire museum was, however.
Currently, they have a wonderful display on Charles Darwin and his theory of natural selection and evolution. The fossil displays include land, air and sea animals and they have gone to great trouble to separate the different eras and epochs in an effort to show how life has changed over millions of years.
The best part of course, are the dinosaur displays. Dozens of species have been pulled out of the Alberta badlands and many are on display here.

Once through the gallery, there is still the interpretive trail outside to walk around which is well worth the time. I unfortunately didn't have as much of that as I wanted (a person could easily spend 2 days at the RTM) and had to get out toward Brooks where the Dinosaur Provincial Park is located.
Along the way, I did stop by an area just south of Drumheller where the hoodoos are located. The hoowhats? Hoodoos! Yes, they are just as much fun to see as they are to pronounce. The sandstone that's been exposed after the last ice age is gradually eroded by rain and wind, but hoodoos have a harder stone cap on them that acts as a shelter from the elements, thus making the sandstone not as vulnerable to the elements. They are though, very delicate formations - delicate enough that this particular area is deemed protected by the provence.

The area near Brooks is a little deceiving. Most of the terrain is flat with some rolling hills here and there. When getting close to the park, one half expects to see slight variations in the geography like signs of the layered hills. In reality, there is none of that. All of the sudden, the earth just drops away and a huge expanse appears full of valleys and gulleys.

Now, this area is normally very arid, but over the past four days they've gotten a ton of rain. According to the interpreter I asked, that water has pooled all over the badlands and since mosquito eggs can lie dormant for 7 to 10 years, they are now in the middle of one of the worst mosquito attacks in recent memory - bad enough that the paleontologists that have been there for 30 or 40 years have never seen it like it is. I set up my tent swatting away at the pests and thought that it was merely a matter of being in some bush, but they were everywhere. If you had exposed flesh, they bit it. I'll be darned if the little cretins were going to stop me from getting some shots though, so I put up with them for about five hours until I nearly went mad and was forced to retire to the tent for some respite.







The terrain is very cool and chalk full of mule deer. If you're lucky (or unlucky perhaps) you might run into a rattle snake or black widow spider. I'm glad I learned this after I went trucking around everywhere.

Up, Up and Away

Air travel still fascinates me. I can walk onto a tin can, have a seat and be in Calgary having breakfast with my cousin in 1/8th the time it would take to drive. That's how the trip began. After collecting some maps from AMA and going on a goose chase for a GPS attachment for the Nikon, we ended up at Avis so I could pick up the little Hundai Accent to boot around in for the next two weeks. It's a lot of fun to drive, but for crying out loud, would someone please stock some manual transmission cars? How does anyone drive through the mountains with auto transmissions? And while on the subject of renting cars, never rent from the airport. Instead, go to a rental place in town where it will probably be at least 100 dollars a week cheaper.

It was probably close to 1pm before I managed to get to MEC. The Calgary store is huge! The clientel is, well, it's everyone. I don't think it's possible to nail it down to a certain demographic. The product selection is just that much larger too. I managed to get one of the last two hybrid sleeping bags they had in stock, replaced my sunglasses that broke in my camera bag, picked up a compass and a foldable wash basin and grabed the Tarn 2 tent.
With gear in tow, it was time to get to Citytv Calgary to meet up with my colleagues in master control. Murry played the part of tourguide and I think I finally understand why things go awry. The amount of daily tasks those guys have to deal with is crazy. It was so good to finally be able to put faces to voices too. Derry, Murray and I hit up a local pub afterward to take in a local lager and I managed to lose the car. Not that the car was lost, I just couldn't find it. Chalk it up to the wonderful sense of direction that I have. Once we did track it down,(thanks Derry) it was time to bid farewell and get on the road to Drumheller.

It takes about an hour to get from Calgary to Drumheller. This is just enough time to ensure that if one gets out of Calgary at 20:00, she will pull into the visitor information parking lot just as the employee is turning the open sign to closed. Now what? As fate would have it, the closest tenting place to the Royal Tyrrell Museum had one tenting spot left. The close proximity of said site to the bathrooms would at first seem ideal. It is if you get there when the sun has already set with a brand new tent and no light of your own. Such predicaments attract kind people with lanterns. Many thanks to the guy that took the time even though he was still sore from doing a half ironman along with his wife in the last 24 hours. If one wants to fall asleep quickly, don't pick the high traffic spot by the washrooms.