CHAPTER XIV

A CAMPING TRIP IN THE ROCKIES

While I was visiting Mrs. S., Winifred had found a garage where we could leave the caravan. She had also inquired about the trains for Banff, and found that one left about 5 a.m. next morning. Mrs. S. gave me the vicarage key, so that we might store our things there. This we did overnight. We got up very early in the morning, collected our sleeping-bags, the tent, the tea-basket and a little food, with a small saucepan and a spirit lamp, and a "grip" apiece, and drove these things to the station in the van. We then left the van outside the garage (as previously arranged), because it did not open till 7 a.m., and just managed to catch the train. We had a few hours' wait at Calgary, and arrived at Banff about twelve o'clock at night. We had not the least idea where to go, and there was nobody about except an old man with a lorry. I asked him where the camping-ground was, and he replied that it was too far to go that night, but he would take us to a place where we could camp for the present, and he would come and fetch us in the morning; so we put our things on the lorry and climbed up after them, and he whipped up his horses and drove off at a gallop into the darkness.

Presently we stopped suddenly where a wood loomed up against a star-strewn sky. "Here's the place," our charioteer said briefly, and we pulled our things off the lorry and were speedily left alone. It was pitch dark under the pines, so we could not see to put the tent up. We groped for the rope which confined the tent and sleeping-bags, and after some fumbling undid the knots and got out the bags and waterproof sheets and mosquito-nets. Then we undressed with great difficulty in the heavy dew, and somehow or other crawled into the bags and rolled ourselves up in the waterproofs and pulled the mosquito-nets right over our heads. The latter pests were awful. They even bit us through the nets, and made such a noise in the early morning that we could stand it no longer, and got up, whereupon they fell upon us with renewed zest.

We now saw the exquisite beauty of the place. The sun shone down through the tall pine-trees and glittering dew-drops spangled every blade of grass. We came out of the wood, and there were the Rockies in full view--lovely pointed peaks, with snow on their summits. Near at hand flowed a beautiful clear river. Trees and water were an intense delight after the bare stretches of prairie.

I collected sticks and boiled coffee in the little saucepan, and we had the most delicious breakfast. By the time we had finished the old man had come for us. He drove us a few miles beyond the town to a large pine-wood. The Spray River ran through this wood--a swift clear stream, opalescent with melting snow. The wood was full of tents, but we found a nice spot near the river for our camp, not too near anyone else. I then went off into the town to look for an Anglican church, as it was Sunday morning. The way into the town was through a beautiful avenue of tall pines, an avenue over two miles long. By dint of asking the way I found a lovely little church. It had the prettiest natural decoration--moss growing on the window-sills. It was just 11 a.m. when I arrived, and I found there would be both Matins and Holy Communion. I was well rewarded for my efforts. In the evening we both went into the town for evensong, and had supper at a restaurant.

We had heard of the beauty of Lake Louise, so on Monday we made a trip thither. The last part of the way was by a funicular railway. Lake Louise was hardly known before 1890. It is a small jewel of a lake, just over a mile long and a quarter of a mile wide. It lies 5,670 feet above sea-level, and Mount George at the head of the lake is 11,355 feet high. This mountain is covered with glaciers and perpetual snow. I live in the Lake District, and also know the lakes of Scotland, Switzerland, and Italy, but I have never seen such exquisite colouring as that of Lake Louise. It flashes on you suddenly as you emerge from the pine woods, a mirror of gleaming turquoise, framed on either side by dark pine-clad slopes, with glistening white peaks between them, these being reflected in the clear waters. On the lower slopes of the mountains and at the foot of the lake there is vivid emerald green grass. Facing this loveliness the C.P.R. has built an artistic hotel, chalet fashion, which does not spoil the landscape. From the windows of this hotel the whole enchanting picture is seen as in a frame.

In the afternoon Winifred went in a motor char-a-banc to see other lakes and mountains, and I walked up through the pine woods on the right of Lake Louise to Lake Agnes, a climb of 1,200 feet. A little above this I saw a tiny lake called Mirror Lake. These two are sometimes called the Lakes in the Clouds. By this time a thunderstorm had come on, which greatly enhanced the grandeur of the scene.

On the Tuesday I went to the famous sulphur baths at Banff. The water comes out at 98 degrees in one spring and 112 degrees in the other. There are open-air swimming baths with glass all round them, so that you can see the mountains all the time. The next day we went down the river in a motor-boat, seeing a most wonderful panorama of woods and mountains, which a thunderstorm made more beautiful. The lightning seemed to strike a waterfall and glance off again. That same night there was another tremendous storm, the thunder echoing and re-echoing in the mountains, sounding as if two storms had met and burst above us. I distinctly felt the heat of the lightning and could not help wondering how soon it would be before we were struck, being under trees. But although the rain was terrific it never came through the tent.

Another day we motored to Lake Minawaake, passing several canyons. We came back by Banff Park, where we saw moose and other tame wild animals, the most interesting of all being the buffalo, one of which was wallowing with his legs in the air. I took a photo of him, but was not allowed to get out of the car to do so as they said he would probably charge. This is the only herd now in existence, and they once covered the prairie. Another very interesting sight was the lumber being floated down the Bow River to Banff, where it is sawn up and sent by train all over the prairie. The flowers here were very luxuriant. The most striking one was the Red Indian's Paint Brush.

On the Friday we returned to Youngstown. We had a very exciting journey as there were sixty wash-outs on the track. It was very sandy, and had given way in the recent big storms. You wondered all the time what was going to happen next, especially after it grew dark and they kept shunting us from one line to another. Then a madman got in, and insisted on conversing with us when he was not fighting, until removed by the conductor. We arrived at Youngstown at 1.30 a.m., but as the tent had not arrived, and the caravan was garaged, we had nowhere to sleep, and so finished the night on a very hard wooden bench in the waiting-room.