THE CANADIAN ROCKIES

I’ve lived in three of the world’s most beautiful cities, Jerusalem, Cape Town and Vancouver. According to the Talmud, ten portions of beauty were distributed to earth, of which Jerusalem received nine. Well, I figure that between them, Cape Town and Vancouver must have gotten a good chunk of the tenth part. 

Vancouver’s beauty is simply stunning! Cypress Bowl and Grouse Mountain provide a northern backdrop that is spectacular. The Pacific Ocean and the Fraser River do their share as well in lending magnificent splendor to this city. Cedar, Cypress, Douglas Fir and Spruce trees rise aloft to dizzy heights, and the greenness of the city’s parks, the white of the snowy mountains, the blue of the water and the sky (well, we’re talking summer here – Vancouver has a notoriously wet and grey winter), the bears the whales and the dolphins – it’s no wonder that Vancouver is continuously listed as one of the three best cities in the world in which to live. 

For those of us who’s kids grew up in the 1980s, Vancouver is where the TV series “McGyver” was filmed. The building which houses the offices of the series’ Phoenix Foundation is one of Vancouver's most interesting architectural structures in that it was built from the top down. The building’s central shaft supports a spring-suspended frame into which the rest of the structure was built. That’s a seriously interesting building!

There are two other fascinating suspended structures in Vancouver: the suspension bridges at Lynn and at Capilano Canyons. The suspension bridge at Lynn Canyon is the scary one. Stepping onto the bridge causes it to wobble, and if you’re half-way down across the ravine, you’re going to want to hold on real tight as the folks behind or in front of you step onto the bridge. Built in 1912, this two-astride suspended footbridge has wooden slats under your feet, through which I could see the waters of Lynn Creek gushing by 160 feett below, as they rushed down from the mountain into the Fraser River inlet.

There are wonderful hiking trails here that wind along the creek, and if you’re looking for a place where you can hear the breeze rustling through the leaves, the water flowing in the stream and the swift footsteps of squirrels scurrying around the woods all at the same time, Lynn Creek Park is the place to be. The day I was there the Vancouver Marathon had its runners coming through the area. Running across that bridge? Not I!

So you think if you’ve seen one suspension bridge you’ve seen ‘em all? The answer folks, is… nope! A mere 3 kilometer drive down the road brings you Capilano Suspension bridge, at the foot of Grouse Mountain. Spanning the Capilano River at a height of 230 feet, and measuring 450 feet from end to end, the original span here was older than the neighboring one down the highway, but unlike the shaky bridge at Lynn Canyon, the Capilano bridge is now sturdy, (well, a little bouncy) made of metal and anchored firmly in 13 tons of concrete. The dramatic amble across took me over the Capilano River, which is famous for its salmon hatchery, located a few hundred meters up the mountainside.

Once I was across the bridge, I discovered that Capilano Park is a forest of fascination. The trees are awesome! The Douglas Firs are among the tallest trees in the world, they’re hundreds (!) of feet high and you’ll need twenty people to hug them at their base. There are other suspension bridges here, which linked me from tree to tree, so that I walked through the rain forest in the air - almost. Amazing! 

And here for the first time I also understood what it means to smell the forest. The aroma of the forest is overwhelming, and in different areas, where different trees grow, the fragrance changes from location to location.

Between the mountain, the bridges and the streams, if you love a day in nature, this is undoubtedly one of the most enjoyable places you can visit.

The hard part of the road journey from Vancouver to the Canadian Rockies is the decision regarding which of the spectacular routes to take. Shall it be via the Fraser River Canyon, the rock faces and furious rapids and the city of Kamloops on the high plains? Shall it be via the Okanagan Valley, its fjords, lakes and lofty forested mountains? I chose to travel via Route #1, through the Fraser River Canyon. 

There’s hardly anything in British Columbia that isn’t beautiful. It’s hard to believe that so many splendors can be seen in this corner of the globe. Well, it’s not quite a corner – British Columbia is larger than California! But to experience so much grandeur, with one place being more beautiful than the one before it makes you hunger for more and more. 

The first leg of my trip to the Canadian Rockies was through the green meadows of Chilliwack valley (British Columbia is always green - it’s astounding!), and the farmlands that roll over hill and dale. Smallholdings by the hundreds – if not thousands – provide fresh vegetables to the Greater Vancouver Regional District and much of the rest of Canada too. Folks, these vegetables are almost as good as the ones grown here in Israel! Dairy farms dot the landscape. This is agriculture at its most beautiful.

Route #1, also known as the Trans-Canada Highway, is Canada’s longest road, stretching literally coast-to-coast all the way from Victoria in British Columbia to St. Johns in Newfoundland – a distance of 7,821 km, making it the longest highway in the world.

The first 170 km out of Vancouver were relaxing. But as I passed the town of Hope, BC - built when gold was discovered in the Fraser River Canyon in 1858 - relaxation turned to excitement. The scenery turns almost aggressive as the mountains tower 1000m high and more over the valley. It’s tough, rough terrain. For the movie buffs among you, it’s where Sylvester Stallone’s “First Blood” action movie was filmed.

Two hours north of Hope, I arrived to Hell’s Gate. This place was given its name by the explorer Simon Fraser who traversed the entire river by canoe, except this segment which he had to negotiate by clinging to the vertical cliffs. The rapids here are spectacular and I rode the Airtram over the river. Now this is one scary ride as it dips really close to the water. The upside of it is that you can get up close and personal with the wildly rushing water, but remain dry. This is not a place to go rafting!

The journey north from Hope to Lytton is hard to capture in words. What comes to mind? Spectacular, stunning, dramatic, striking, vivid, eye-catching? All of them apply and none of them do justice to the long drive through this amazing crevasse called the Fraser River Canyon.   

Each site is more breath-taking than the one before it. Just stunning!

For those of you who enjoy fishing, this is a fisherman’s paradise. The Fraser River Canyon is the largest fish producing water course in British Columbia. It’s the world’s largest supporter of Salmon – Sockeye (my personal favorite), Coho, Spring, Pink and Chum. 

I wonder: if you catch a Chum, will it consider you one?

The journey from the city of Kamloops, BC to Jasper in Alberta traverses a variety of landscapes: desert and forests, mountains and glaciers – an overwhelming plethora of feasts for the eyes. This is ancient Indian, or First Nations homeland territory, and the blend of native with modern Canadian culture, creates an ever-surprising mix of multiculturalism in which Canada takes great pride. I must say that the variety of customs of the local tribes - and the nuances between them - is most interesting, and makes the study of Canadian history far more intriguing that I had previously realized. The Haida and the Coastal Peoples, the Chilliwack and the Cree, the Stoney, the Shuswap, the T’kemlups and the Blackfoot - seemingly so similar and yet so different. Once fierce enemies, these nations have come together via a plurality of treaties to protect their valuable heritage – fascinating! Armed with the enthralling aspects of Canada’s native peoples, my trip out of Kamloops became all the more enjoyable.

The scenery of the Canadian Rockies is, well, spectacular, stunning, magnificent, breath-taking; take your pick of adjectives. The endless green forests of pine and spruce, the snow-capped peaks and dramatic pinnacles of the mountains, as well as the occasional elk and bear – the time sped by as I gobbled up the distance.   

My significant stop of the day was at Maligne Canyon, just south of Jasper. Here too, as in almost every place where the melting glaciers give birth to powerful current sand swiftly flowing rivers, the flowing water has carved a deep crevasse into the rock. I hiked along the bottom of the canyon following the course of the flowing water for an hour and a half. The sheer cliff faces on either side of the canyon rise to a height of some 400 meters. The gorge itself enables you to walk alongside the flow and it careens over a variety of precipices on its way down to the Maligne River and lake. While it was seriously hot (over 35 degrees Celsius) at the top of the canyon, down here in the depths of the ravine it was cool and shady, and the water was so completely transparent, the temptation to drink from it was overwhelming. Nevertheless, I held back. I’ve been to too many places where the very first rule is “don’t drink the water.”

The second canyon through which I hiked was the Johnston Canyon. The hike here was about an hour long, most of it on a pedestrian walkway attached to the rock face of the canyon’s cliffs. While Maligne Canyon had been cool, Johnston Canyon was downright chilly! Once again, I walked along the waterside accompanied by the soft sssh-ing of the river as it flowed downstream. As I trekked further along, I began to hear the rumble of the waterfall, which grew ever louder as I proceeded along the bridge. Then the path turned a sharp corner, entered a cave, and exited at the foot of a pounding, thundering snow-white cascade. This was so exciting, and by this time I was so parched, that I got on the rocks, leaned over, filled my water bottle and drank from this pristine, ice-cold, emerald colored, crystal clear elixir of life. 

Ah, absolutely delicious!

We’re used to living among history here in Israel. Wherever one turns there are archeological findings that fascinate, captivate, educate and cause wonderment. It’s not uncommon to come across findings here that are 1,000 years old and more. History - it’s part of our makeup. 

Well then, how would you feel about seeing a colossus that is 10,000 years old and 300 meters tall? What if you could not only touch it, but stand on it? What if it was so huge, (about 1,000 football fields in size) that enormous, specially designed vehicles, of which there exist only 23 in the whole world, would slowly creep up and deposit you on it? Then, what if it moved?

Athabasca Glacier, one of the more accessible glaciers in the Canadian Rockies, is located in the middle of the vast and tremendous Columbia Ice Field. It’s an awe-inspiring vision. First of all, it’s HUGE! Forming a valley between two peaks, each bearing its own glacier clinging to the craggy rocks high above, it is some 2 miles wide and many more miles long. You can park nearby and simple hike onto the glacier, or you can ride in one of the Glacier Explorer vehicles onto the surface. These are humungous vehicles with tires 2 meters high that crawl onto the surface of the glacier. Each one carries some 50 people, and they exist only here – and there’s one at the South Pole. After a mile’s drive on land and another mile on ice, I got off at the end point, fascinated by the touch of my foot to the ice. One small step for man…   

I was completely blown away by the whiteness of the expanse of ice surrounding me, 300 meters deep and more. Throughout the glacier there are small cracks caused by the constant movement as the glacier creeps at far less than a snail’s pace down the mountain slope at the speed – well, speed might not be the right term - of a few meters per year. Actually, the problem is not so much the movement of the glacier as it is its retreat (that’s politically correct talk for melting). Athabasca has shrunk 2 kilometers in the past 130 years, much due to global warming and climate change.

Fascinated as I was, I reached down to touch the ice: cold and very prickly – it stabbed my finger and made a small puncture in my skin. In some places the ice breaks easily and tempts the tourists to try a hand at the breaking it, something strongly discouraged by the national parks rangers that roamed the area.

In contrast to the wonderful, exciting, thundering and pounding of waterfalls that I love so much, here I was surrounded by silence. It got quieter and quieter as I walked further away from the vehicles; the sounds of silence, the whispers of the wind, and the crackle of the ice. In some places I could see through the ice to emerald colored subterranean streams of the melt that had carved a path through the ice. Gravity does what it does and you can’t stop nature from being true to its nature.   

Athabasca is part of the Snow Dome, the hydrological apex and watershed of North America, from where three primary water tributaries head to three oceans: the Columbia River flows to the Pacific Ocean; the North Saskatchewan River heads for to the Hudson Bay and the Athabasca River makes its way to the Arctic Ocean.

Athabasca. Astonishing, amazing, astounding. 

Now, there’s a strange name for a place! I first heard of it when I visited the Buffalo Nations Museum in Banff. I have mentioned before that after travel, museums are my great love, and I never miss an opportunity to visit one whenever I arrive at a destination of choice. I usually seek out those that are low-budget developments. Something authentic. Here in Banff I came across the Buffalo Nations Luxton Museum. It seeks to show how the First Nations peoples lived and adapted to their surroundings and each other prior to contact with European culture, and how they continued to adapt after European influences.

It’s an absolutely fascinating museum and was one of the highlights of my trip here. The Luxton part of its name is dedicated to Norman Luxton, and adventurer and time when the white man was only too pleased to limit their quarters to inappropriate and unfertile reservation lands. The museum is housed in a wooden fortress that Luxton built, and is now operated by members of the Buffalo Nations.

Here I learned how Buffalo were hunted to ensure food and clothing for many tribes and clans. How the braves (and hunting a buffalo requires plenty bravery!) would place cairns of stones in the shape of a funnel leading toward a precipice and urge the herding buffalo in that direction. This would cause the buffalo to stampede, and then surge over the cliff to their deaths. The resulting harvest provided meat and skins for entire tribes for months. One of these crags became known as Head-Smashed-In, an entirely appropriate name in my opinion, and its located in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, near Macleod, Alberta.

The Buffalo Peoples include the Blackfoot, the Cree, Assiniboine and Crow nations, as well as the Algonquian, the Peigan and North Peigan, the Stoney and the Blood. Able to set aside their differences, they signed Treaty Seven in order to unite and defend themselves – physically and politically. 

Luxton was most instrumental in bringing this about, and using the influence he wielded as a newspaper publisher to bring the rights of the First Nations into the public arena in Canada. Often seen in a buckskin jacket and stetson hat, Luxton was made an honorary chief. 

I was very pleased to have found this wonderful place, and I’ve added it to my list of international must-see museums!

Banff (Gaelic: Banbh) and Macduff (Gaelic: MacDhuibh) are neighbouring towns and former burghs in Aberdeenshire, Scotland. In 1870, Banff was served by the Banff, Portsoy and Strathisla Railway. Strathisla is the name of one of the finest single-malt whiskies I have every tasted (I’m obviously a whisky heathen because I actually prefer – deep breath in - the blended types). Strathisla distillery is owned by Chivas Brothers Ltd (and the Strathisla whisky is also a major past of the Chivas Regal blend), which in turn is owned by Seagrams of Canada. 

But you needn’t be a connoisseur from the Scottish Banff to fall in love with it’s Canadian twin here at the foothills of the Canadian Rockies. What a location! A picturesque town nestled in a valley surrounded by soaring snow-capped, forest-filled mountains.

This was my base from where I set out daily to view God’s spectacular creation. I love waterfalls, and this area had hundreds (if not thousands) of them, lakes by the dozens and the color of the water is hard to believe. My first day is Banff was devoted to just this – waterfalls and lakes. Unbelievable beautiful stuff! I started with Athabasca Falls. The river roars into a crevasse that has the water becoming completely wild as it turns the bend and begins to tumble. The parks authority has built viewing platforms that lean out over the rushing, gushing torrent so that I was able to sort of float above the tide as it cascaded into the ravine.   

After the excitement of the surge, I sought some solace in the placid emerald green lakes of the area: Peyto Lake, Bow Lake, Lake Louise, Minnewanka Lake and Moraine Lake. The emerald color (and it is emerald in color, that’s no Photoshop work you’re seeing in the pictures) is brought on by the glacier “dust” that flows down from the icy heights into the rivers and lakes. The reflection of the sun off that now subterranean deposit causes the emerald color to present itself. It’s amazing! Anyone who wants to get away from it all and find solace and splendor, relaxation and respite, should come and sit by the banks of any of these lakes for twenty minutes. I assure you, all your troubles will be far away. 

OK, enough with the relaxation, back to the excitement. Off I headed into Yoho National Park in British Columbia (yes, I changed provinces rapidly here as I meandered between spectacles) to view the Takakaw Falls – one of the highest waterfalls in Canada, dropping a dizzying distance of 280 meters from its top to its toes. Here, the cataracts are wild and leap into the air as the water soars away from the cliffside after dropping the first quarter of the distance. There’s a step in the cliff face which causes the flow to hurtle out before continuing its fall to earth (and into the river). The best part of the visit here was that I was able to walk along the path to the very spot (almost) where the water changes from vertical to horizontal. The spray was exhilarating, and I got seriously wet, but it was definitely worth it!   

Water, the elixir of life – spiritual life too!