Montreal

Yesterday, I left Toronto and drove to Montreal. I have to admit I was a bit nervous about this portion of the trip; I'd heard that Montreal is not friendly, especially to those who don't speak French. But I arrived safely and in one piece, and the folks at the hotel were extremely friendly and helpful. I was tired last night, and so I had dinner nearby and worked on this blog some and read a book.

Today I decided to check out the town. I decided against a bus tour like I'd done in Toronto. Instead, there were two particular sites I decided to see: Old Montreal and the Botanical Gardens. I decided to go to Old Montreal first, and decided to take the subway to get there. I love the subway -- I have ever since I lived in NYC. But this subway was much more confusing than the subway in New York. Mostly, the signs are pretty nonexistent. So I'd find the station, which was clearly labled, take the stairs underground, and then suddenly, the only way to go was via another staircase back up to street level! Confused, I'd ask someone where the train was, and every time, it turned out I was going the right way, I just had to go up and down some more until I finally reached the actual station. Very strange.

Anyway, I made it to Old Montreal. It is beautiful, very European looking. I started out at the Basilica of Notre Dame. I love going to cathedrals -- they always amaze me with their beauty. And this one did not disappoint. The entire altar is carved, and is backlit with blue lighting, so it looks like it glows. The original name for Montreal was Ville Marie, or City of Mary -- and so there's a depiction of Mary at the very top of the altar, which I liked. In fact, the entire basilica intertwined typical Catholic iconography with historical depictions of the founding of Montreal. The basilica is also painted in 23 karat gold leaf, which adds to the glowing phenomenon. Apparently, the interior designer decided to do this because it lasts longer than paint (!), up to 80 years before needing maintenance. And a factoid: apparently one ounce of gold leaf will cover one square meter of space. Anyway, it was gorgeous. There's also a pipe organ at the back of the basilica which is quite impressive, too: it has 6992 individual pipes in it. It was originally water-powered by the St. Lawrence River, because it required more power than the traditional bellows could provide.

After touring the basilica, I was taken to the wedding chapel in the back. It was surprising, too: it's all wooden, and much, much less ornate than the basilica. It started out ornate, but much smaller and more intimate -- until 1978, when a fire burned half of it. The back of the chapel now remains ornately carved wood, but the front and ceiling is now contemporary light-colored, simple wooden paneling. Its simplicity is really nice actually, and goes well with the ornately carved back. But the most impressive part of this chapel is the bronze wall carving behind the altar. It's called "The March of Humanity", and is also very contemporary-looking. It depicts humans marching through three difficult periods of life, each represented by an arch: childhood, adulthood, and death. At the top, above the death-arch, is the Holy Trinity, depicted by the face of Jesus, the sun, and a dove. Were it not for the face of Jesus, it would have looked right at home in any modern synagogue!

Anyway, I left the Basilica and went walking. I saw the Montreal City Hall, several courthouses, and the Marche Bonsecours. I also walked along the harbor and looked over the water. Finally, I took myself to a nice, luxurious lunch on the plaza Jacques-Cartier. I had a cocktail, then had a crepe and an espresso.

When I left, I wandered over to another subway stop, got completely confused again trying to find the actual train, and then went uptown to the botanical gardens. I'd heard about these before, and was excited to see them. But first, I walked right past the Montreal Olympic Stadium from the 1976 Summer Games and snapped a few photos.

When I got to the gardens, I went first to the rose garden, then to the aquatic gardens, which I thought were very pretty -- basically, they were a set of partitioned fountains, each of which contained a different water plant. It was nice, and I loved listening to all of the fountains and waterfalls. But I couldn't stay too long, because I had a mission -- to see the Chinese and Japanese gardens.

I got to the Chinese gardens first. These gardens were ASSEMBLED IN CHINA, then disassembled and shipped to Montreal, and then reassembled onsite. Chinese workers came over to do the actual assembly. Pretty crazy. There were pavilions all over the place, stones assembled into a 9 meter-high mountain, a lake with a small island, and colorful statues depicting animals and people from the Ming Dynasty. It was very colorful, but a bit much for me, actually. I found it distracting.

After I left there, I walked through the First Nations gardens, which are typical of the forests and areas where the Canadian natives lived. It was very natural, basically a forest, and a nice change from the gaudy Chinese gardens, I thought. Once again, I was reminded how respectful the natives were, and are, of the natural land around them; instead of sculpting, they allow the land to just be. I also learned that they'd plant corn, squash, and beans together, and that all three plants grow better when they are grown together.

Finally, I made it to the Japanese garden. Like the Chinese garden, it was landscaped, and used stone and water in the hardscape. But this garden, designed by a Japanese landscape architect, was as simple and elegant as the Chinese garden was big and bold. Basically, it consisted of a few simple pavilions, surrounding a large koi pond. A waterfall was off to one side of the pond, and a lantern was on another side. The pond was curved, and all around it was landscaping of different heights and textures. Every single place I stood or sat provided an amazing view. It was simple and lovely, and very relaxing. I sat there for an hour and a half before I finally tore myself away. The only thing I didn't get to do was the traditional Japanese tea ceremony, which they hold in one of the pavilions; apparently, I need a reservation for that. Next time....

Anyway, I'm back in my hotel room now, safe and sound. I had a really nice day in Montreal. Like Toronto, it's a beautiful, vibrant city. And despite my fears, I found the people here to be very helpful and friendly. Yet another place for me to make a return visit someday.

Toronto and Niagara

I left Ann Arbor on Thursday afternoon, and I arrived in Toronto in the early evening. Back to Canada! This time around, I'm planning on continuing the drive eastward, all the way to the Atlantic coast. And for most of this trip, I'll be alone and motel-ing it, but for the Toronto portion, I had a host family. They are the parents of my friend Mark, a former resident of mine from Emory. Mark grew up in Toronto, and when I called him for recommendations of places to visit, he contacted his parents, who offered to host me while I was there.

Anyway, I met Guico and Lily that evening, and they are fantastic. They are originally from Lima, Peru, but moved to Toronto shortly after they married. We had a nice evening at their home, and Lily gave me lots and lots of recommendations of things to do and see while I was in town.

I actually took her up on one of the most unlikely ones: to do a double-decker tour bus trip through downtown Toronto! It was interesting, and I certainly saw lots of sights I would never have seen on my own, including a 19th century castle which was built for a private citizen, the old and new Toronto City Hall buildings, and the financial district. But several of the things I saw were really interesting to me, and influenced my entire day in downtown Toronto.

First of all, the bus took me directly to the Toronto harbor, which is directly on Lake Ontario (Great Lake #4 of my trip!). From there, I got off and took a boat to the Toronto Islands, which are immediately south of downtown. I spent a while wandering around the main island, which has gardens, fountains, bike and boat rentals, three beaches (one nude), and even an amusement park! But I wandered through the gardens and over to the shoreline. The lake was beautiful, calm and turquoise, and I just sat there for an hour looking out over the water and the occasional sailboat which flitted by. I could have stayed there all day.

Reluctantly, I got back on the boat and then went back to my tour bus. The next place we went was to the St. Lawrence Market district, which had a huge street festival going on that weekend, and we drove past the Distillery district, which was the old whiskey distillery that made whiskey to sell to the USA during Prohibition -- it's now been renovated and turned into shops, galleries, and restaurants.

When my tour finally ended around 3pm, I made the executive decision to go to the street festival. It was cool! It was called Busker Fest, and although I didn't know it before I came to Canada, a busker is a street performer. There were buskers from all over the world at this festival! I saw fire breathers, stunt men, a Japanese unicyclist on a 15 foot-high unicycle, lots of "statues" which moved when you got too close to them, clowns of all shapes and sizes, and trapeze artists and all kinds of acrobats. It was amazing, but expensive -- especially since I kept tipping all of the buskers as I watched their shows, and paid $30 to park!

After I left Busker Fest, I drove to the Distillery and wandered around there for a little while, as well, and I'm glad I did -- they did a fantastic job renovating it. The buildings are the same old buildings, and the streets are still cobblestone, but the shops and galleries are really cool. There was one gallery, in particular, which had something I'd never seen before: art made out of Rubik's Cubes. There were pictures of Andy Warhol, Marilyn Monroe, Bob Marley, etc., and each of the "dots" of color on their faces was a pixel from a Rubik's Cube face. It was kitschy, but cool nonetheless.

That evening, I went back to Lily and Guico's house for Shabbat dinner, which was really nice. They had a friend over for dinner, too, and so the four of us had a great time together. The next morning, Lily had her housekeeper cook me breakfast (Lily wouldn't cook on Shabbat, but wanted me to eat something substantial), and then sent me off to see Niagara Falls.

I have to admit I had some trepidation about seeing the falls; they are supposed to be so....overdone with all of the touristy stuff. And it was, no doubt. But once I saw the falls themselves, I mostly forgot about all of that. The falls are just impressive. First of all, some facts:

1. There are two actual falls: the American falls, which are straight, and the Canadian falls, which are curved and area also called the "Horseshoe Falls".
2. The falls occur where water flows from Lake Erie (Great Lake #5 for this trip!) into Lake Ontario.
3. 34 MILLION gallons of water flow over the horseshoe falls every minute.
4. 16 people have tried to go over the falls in a wooden barrel; 5 of them have died.
5. One person has accidentally gone over the falls and survived; he was seven years old, and fell out of a boat that capsized. He was rescued by the Maid of the Mist. He is now a practicing minister in Detroit.

I ended up doing two "must dos" while I was there, and I was glad I did. The first was the "Journey Behind the Falls". It's basically a tunnel behind the (Canadian) falls themselves, with some places where you can look out and see the water. The first two lookouts were truly behind the waterfall, and you can't even see anything -- just a wall of roaring water. The next two lookouts were cooler; they are located just to the side of the falls, about halfway up. From there, if you look up you see the falling water; if you look down, you see the huge spray from the water as it lands in the lake below. It's very cool. From that perspective, the wall of water appears green.

The second was the Maid of the Mist, the boat which takes you close to both sets of waterfalls. The Maid of the Mist has run continuously since 1846. We passed the American falls first, which was nice, and then went over to the Canadian falls, at which point we turned the boat around to go back to the dock. When the boat turned, we literally got right up underneath the falls -- and we all got soaked!, poncho or no poncho.

After I dried off, I went back to my car and then went north a bit, through a LOT of wineries, to a town called Niagara-on-the-Lake. Lily had recommended it to me, and I'm so glad she did; it is completely different from the tourist hubbub at the falls. It's a little Victorian town, old and super-quaint. The main street is Queen Street, and it's lined with tea shops, bakeries, boutiques, inns, and restaurants. I wandered up and down until the shops started to close, and then I found a little restaurant and had a nice dinner before driving back to Toronto that night. It was lovely. I definitely would like to go back there someday for a long weekend.

Sunday morning, I had breakfast with Lily and she showed me some of the art and Peruvian artifacts in their home -- they have quite a collection of pre-Columbian artifacts, and it was impressive to see, especially after appreciating the primitive style of the Eskimo art from Alaska. It was a wonderful couple of days in Toronto. I felt very badly about being so...active...on Shabbat when I was staying with a religious family, but they truly didn't seem to mind. Toronto is a beautiful city, and there is certainly lots to do and see there. It was great, pure and simple.

24 hours of Zing!

On Wednesday, after much consternation about not having been able to go earlier in the week, I finally made it to Ann Arbor. It had been so long since I'd been back there, and it was weird being back. I realized that I don't really know my way around the town anymore, and that I don't remember lots of the street names. But I was back in town with a laser-like mission: to eat lunch at Zingerman's, and to see how I felt being in the deli once again, after so many years.

Zingerman's is like nirvana to me; it's part New York-style delicatessen, part high-end gourmet food shop. And I've always felt that, despite my success in medicine, that my true passion lies within the food world -- and Zingerman's is my holy grail.

I arrived around 3pm, and walked into the shop for the first time in years. It looks the same: decorated tin roof, linoleum tile on the floors, crowded aisles with folks at the cheese counter, the bread counter, the sandwich counter, the cashiers' lanes, and the olive oil and vinegar tasting areas. Even at that late lunch hour, the place was packed. I didn't even need to look at the sandwich menu, because I'd been dreaming about my lunch for a long, long time: a nosher-sized #18 (Georgia Reuben, invented at that very deli) and an old (sour) pickle. I'm salivating now, just thinking about it.

I walked next door to the seating area, grabbed my drink, and waited not-too-patiently for my sandwich. When the server brought it to me, he said: "You know, that's my very favorite sandwich here." "Mine too!", I exclaimed. Sandwich love....what could be better? I was full after the first half, but there was no way for me to not eat every last, sweet-savory-buttery-crunchy-rye-filled bite. I was transported, via sandwich, through the microfiche of my memories: from the first time I'd had that particular sandwich when Julie was visiting, to the time when they accidentally gave me someone else's sandwich, which was NOT what I'd ordered but was delicious nonetheless, to many lunches with Slade talking about his latest escapades at the gay bar, to eating with Diann who always ordered just a salad while I gorged on grilled rye bread, Russian dressing, red cabbage coleslaw, Emmentaler swiss, and turkey. Truly, if ever there were a heaven for me, sitting at Zingerman's eating a Georgia Reuben would be it.

I looked around the specialty foods and cheeses for a long time. And then I saw it: an advertisement for an olive oil tasting class for that evening. I'd been trying to reach several friends in Ann Arbor for plans that evening, but hadn't reached anyone. So I decided to sign up for the class.

I went to the class that evening, and it was great. We tasted five different olive oils, and ate it in lots of different ways: pan de tomate, bruschetta, cheeses with olive oil and spices, several different salads, even olive oil cake. It was really interesting, and I enjoyed myself immensely. At the end of the class, I was speaking with one of my neighbors during the class, a woman named Lois who works for Zingerman's. I told her about my love of Zing, and that my dream would be to someday open a place as delicious, fun, and fantastic as Zingerman's Deli. And that's when she told me about the Partners' Group meeting the next morning.

See, Zingerman's is now made up of multiple different businesses:

Zingerman's Deli

Zingerman's Coffee Roasters

Zingerman's Bakehouse

Zingerman's Creamery

Zingerman's Mail Order

Zingerman's Roadhouse (farm-to-table restaurant)

ZingTrain (corporate training organization)

and each of these has several partners. Once a month, the partners get together for a meeting, and this meeting is open to the public. So Lois suggested I go, and meet the founders themselves. It took me about 5 seconds to decide that yes, I'd do whatever it took to be there.

So I went the next morning to the partners' meeting. Actually, one of the teachers from the olive oil class had made breakfast for us, which was quite good. And I learned a lot about how to run a well-organized meeting: they had a timekeeper to keep all comments and announcements in check, they had an agenda which was posted at the front of the room for everyone to see, the facilitator kept the meeting moving along, and everyone had a good time while staying very much on point.

During a short break, I introduced myself to the managing partners of the deli. I spoke for a while with one of them, and told him that I'd attended the meeting because I really love the Zingerman's concept, and that I had hoped to be able to open a restaurant/specialty foods shop someday. He asked me where, and I told him I'd been thinking of Austin, Texas. He liked that idea, but told me that if I wanted to open a restaurant, I should "go to Vegas, and put all of your money on Black 13." He told me that only 3% of restaurants turn a profit in the first 3 years, that margins are very low, and that it's generally a bad idea. He also recommended that I consider starting with a food cart, which has lower overhead and which forces you to focus. Overall, not terribly positive.

When the meeting was over, I also introduced myself to Paul Saginaw, one of the founders and co-owners of Zingerman's, along with Ari Weinzweig. Turns out, I'd been sitting next to him at the deli the day before; I'd noticed him, but just didn't know who he was! I complimented him on a business which literally makes my heart sing, and he was very gracious accepting the compliment. I only wish I'd had the chance to meet Ari, as well.

So here's the point of all of this: I was supposed to go to Ann Arbor on Monday or Tuesday, and then go back to Detroit that night. It didn't happen that way, which had initially made me frustrated. Instead, I went on Wednesday, and because of that, signed up for and attended the olive oil class, and because of that, learned about the meeting where I made lots of contacts of generous people who said they'd be willing to speak to me about the food industry and any ideas I have for business ventures of my own. Amazing. Seems like it happened the best way possible, actually....

Detroit Days

I arrived in Detroit on Saturday afternoon. This was to be a different stay in Detroit than I've ever had before. Since residency, whenever I've visited Detroit, I'd always stay with my friend Diann. But a couple of years ago, Diann moved to Charleston, South Carolina. So this time, I planned to stay with Tim, an old boyfriend turned good friend. He's married now, with three daughters, and several years ago he made me the godmother to his second child.

His wife, Rachel, had taken the kids up to the UP for the weekend, and so Saturday evening and most of Sunday, I had Tim to myself. Which was really nice. Now that everyone I know is married, it's rare for me to spend quality alone time with one of my friends, but that is the gift I was given that weekend. Tim and I went out for Mexican food and margaritas that night. Then we came back to his house, played video games, and watched Road House until late into the night. Not a highbrow night, for sure, but definitely fun.

On Sunday, we each slept late, then we got up and listened to music for a long time. Tim has always loved music, and over the years, he's introduced me to lots of bands I'd never listened to before. He made me a large iMix before I went on this trip, as well; you can find it on iTunes under "Emily's Traveling Medacine Show". Anyway, he played me lots of music, and we again caught up, laughing about funny things we had done years and years ago. That afternoon, I went to his neighbors' home for an 8 year-old's birthday party, and met one of Tim's oldest friends and his family. They were warm and welcoming, and I had a really nice time there.

I also got to see the coolest thing while I was there -- the father has spent the last 10 years completely rebuilding a 1934 Ford hot rod. And it is an absolute work of art. It's painted a black cherry color, with hand piping on the sides, beautiful leather upholstery, chrome trim on the inside, white-wall tires, and a greyhound headpiece on the front. It's absolutely stunning.

Rachel returned from Escanaba, and met up with us at the party with the kids. I couldn't believe it to see them -- the last time I'd been to Detroit, the middle daughter was an infant having her Christening -- now she's three years old. There are three of them: Olivia, almost 5; Lucy, 3; and Sara, 9 months. They're super-cute, and obviously love their Daddy very much, which was great to see.

On Monday, Rachel went to work for the day, and Tim and I took care of the kiddos. We watched Kung Fu Panda and Avatar, played video games, sang karaoke while Tim played the drums, wrestled, rode bikes, and drank lots of chocolate milk. I was reminded that it's pretty great to be a kid, I have to say.

The next day, I was originally supposed to go to Ann Arbor, but I had an appointment to take my car in for an oil change, and that ended up taking much longer than I had thought it would, so my plans were thwarted. Instead, Tim and I had another day with the kids while Rachel worked. She came home early, though, and that night, all of us went to a Tigers' game!

I haven't gone to a Detroit Tigers baseball game in many years. It was terrific fun for me. I loved being in the park, eating peanuts and singing and cheering, and the Tigers won, 9-1 over the Royals. But the most unexpected and pleasant surprise was that, sitting two rows in front of us, was Tim's brother Rob! Tim had told me that Rob was going to be at the game that night, with some clients from work. But Tim didn't know where Rob would be sitting. And we hadn't prepurchased tickets, either, but just bought random tickets at the gate. Our seats weren't all that good. We tried to see if we could find better seats that were just unoccupied, and completely randomly, the seats we picked out were two rows behind Rob and his clients! We realized it two innings into the game. Rob and Tim had lived together during my residency, and I got to know him well at that time. He's married now, too, and has three kids. But he's such a great guy, and it was really wonderful seeing him after such a long time. It made for a completely perfect evening for me.

Wednesday, Tim spent the morning making me some CDs to take on the journey, and then I left their home around 1pm for a day in Ann Arbor. It was a really nice few days in Detroit. It was wonderful to catch up with Tim and to get to know his children. The only imperfection in the trip was the fact that I hardly saw Rachel at all, other than for supper Monday night and at the game on Tuesday. But I I got to catch up with Tim AND had the chance to know his family, and I'm grateful for both of those opportunities.

Great Lakes #1-3

I left Ironwood on Thursday to begin my drive to Detroit. I decided to take my time, and see some places that I hadn't had a chance to visit while I was a resident (80-100 hour work weeks aren't terribly conducive to traveling....). Anyway, I decided to drive from Ironwood across the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and then down to Mackinac Island for a night, and then to cross into the lower peninsula and spend a night in Traverse City, before working my way down to Detroit.

The drive to Mackinac was spectacular. I left Ironwood and drove eastward until I reached Marquette, which is right on Lake Superior. I then continued eastward to the town of Munising. That section took me right along the Lake Superior shoreline. I stopped several times just to wade in the water. Lake Superior is incredibly clear, and incredibly cold -- 40 degrees F during the summertime, and iced over during wintertime. It was beautiful, but chilly! -- although there were people definitely swimming in the lake while I was there.

I continued my drive inland, and reached St. Ignace, Michigan, that evening. St. Ignace is located on the Upper Peninsula, and is just a ferry ride away from Mackinac Island; I'd decided to get a hotel room there. The people who greeted me at the hotel front desk are all from the area. They told me that the hotel closes down after the season, due to the super-cold weather in the area. They also told me that they prefer wintertime to summertime up there! Apparently, they like to snowmobile, ice fish, and participate in other activities which actually reminded me of the activities my friends in Alaska participate in. I was quite surprised. I guess I'd never thought about it, but the Great Lakes area get tons and tons of snow, and the lakes actually freeze over during the winter. In fact, Heather's dad told me that they get between 200-300 inches of snow every year at their house.

Anyway, I slept really well that night, and got up the next morning to take the ferry to Mackinac (pronounced "Mackinaw") Island. Unfortunately, it started pouring rain just as I got onto the ferry, so I decided to ride inside, rather than on the deck. The particular ferry I was on did a little detour, as well, to go directly to the Mackinac "Mighty Mac" Bridge. At the time it was built, it was the longest suspension bridge in the world; it's now number 12. The bridge connects St. Ignace in the UP to Mackinaw City in the Lower Peninsula of Michigan, and spans the "Straits of Mackinaw", which is the area where Lake Michigan and Lake Huron meet up (although Mackinac Island itself is technically located in Lake Huron). The bridge is over 5 miles long, and quite impressive from up close. There were lots of Michiganders on the ferry, and most of them had never taken the ferry underneath the bridge. There were lots of elders, especially, who kept saying "this is so amazing! I can't believe I get to see the bridge so close! I've never been under the bridge before!", etc., and their grandkids were ecstatic because their grandparents were excited -- and that made me excited, too.

Anyway, I reached the island, and the weather let up somewhat, so that was good. I only had 3-4 hours to spend there, so I didn't walk around the entire island or do lots of sightseeing; instead, I just wandered along the waterfront. Mackinac doesn't allow any automobiles on the island, and so everyone there either walks, rides a bicycle, or rides a horse-drawn carriage, which makes the whole place seem very quaint. I wandered around, saw lots of colorful Victorian homes, had a nice lunch at a funny bar called the Pink Pony (and no, it's not like the Pink Pony in Atlanta), and bought the requisite Mackinac Island Fudge. Then I took the ferry back across to St. Ignace, picked up my car, drove across the "Mighty Mac" itself, and entered the lower peninsula of Michigan.

I arrived at my hotel in Traverse City around 6pm, unpacked, and then headed out to see the city a bit. I'd heard lots about Traverse City during my residency. It's on Lake Michigan, and it's supposedly beautiful, so I was glad to finally be able to see it! I decided to drive downtown and along the waterfront to have a look around. When I got downtown, I found out that the city was having a street festival that evening, so I parked my car and started wandering. The festival was fun, and the downtown area of Traverse City is filled with lots of cute little shops and restaurants, so I had a really great time -- until, once again, it began to pour rain. I finally made it back to my hotel, completely sopping wet.

Luckily, the next day was cloudy but not rainy, and so I spent all morning on the waterfront. I can see why Traverse City is so renowned -- it's gorgeous! The water is a clear, light blue, much lighter in color than Lake Superior. The beach is sandy, and the water is cool, but not cold. In fact, the Grand Traverse Bay is considered one of the cleanest bodies of fresh water in the world. Also, there are tons of little peninsulas branching out into the water, so there's lots and lots of waterfront for recreation and residences. After I wandered the beach for an hour or so, I drove up one of the smaller peninsulas to a lighthouse at the very tip. I have to say, the folks who live there are very, very lucky to live in such a picturesque area.

Had I more time, there were several other places I'd have liked to have visited between Lake Superior and Lake Michigan: Isle Royale National Park (which is in Lake Superior itself), Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore (on the Lake Superior coast, east of Munising), and Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore (in Lake Michigan itself). Sounds like another road trip....

Anyway, so far I've seen three of the five Great Lakes! Two more to go....

To the U.P.!

I left Glacier National Park on Saturday morning, August 14, on a mission. I had three days to drive 1700 miles to Ironwood, Michigan.

By far, these would be the three longest days of driving of the trip thus far. But I was on a mission: I'd been invited to spend time with my friend Heather (a friend of mine from Atlanta) and her family, who lives on Lake Superior. Heather would be in town until August 19, so I wanted to get there no later than the 17th by lunchtime. At the last minute, though, I decided to push it so that I'd arrive by dinnertime on the 16th, instead.

The first day, I drove almost 800 miles, moving southeast through Montana, crossing briefly into Wyoming, and then ending up that night in Rapid City, South Dakota. The first part of the drive was interesting, because I drove right through the Blackfeet Reservation. I had seen it on the map but hadn't really thought about it. But when I stopped for gas and a cup of coffee, I realized I was on the reservation right away, because everyone in the store was clearly a member of the Blackfeet. Everyone was nice to me, certainly -- it was just obvious that I was the visitor in the store.

As I continued to drive southeast, the weather perked up somewhat. The mountains also changed into rolling hills, and then into prairie, flat as flat can be. And I drove through another reservation, the Crow Reservation. I also passed the Little Bighorn monument. I'd have love to have stopped, but I decided that I needed to keep driving, in order to make it to Rapid City before it got too late.

I passed through Wyoming for about a half a second, and then went right on into South Dakota without even realizing it. I finally made it to Rapid City around 9:30 that night, and it was already very dark. I was glad that I'd decided to skip Little Bighorn, although I feel sort of guilty for passing a historical monument, especially since I've decided to learn more about the American and Alaskan natives on this trip. Oh, well....I simply cannot see everything, I guess....

The next day I planned to drive further eastward, to get to Sioux Falls, SD, for the night. But this would be a sightseeing day for me, and I was excited. I was to see Mt. Rushmore, the Crazy Horse Monument, and the infamous Wall Drug before arriving in Sioux Falls.

First was Mt. Rushmore. It's surprising: here I was, driving along through the Black Hills (which are beautiful, by the way), and it just appeared, right before my eyes. I rounded a corner, and saw the monument, off to the right. I was so surprised by how sudden it was, that I didn't even have time to stop and shoot a picture of it. Instead, I drove a bit further, paid $10 to park at the actual site, and then walked in to the formal viewing platform to snap my photo. And I have to admit, it was pretty cool seeing it up close and personal.

I left Mt. Rushmore after buying a few postcards and went to the Crazy Horse Memorial. I spent more time there -- not because I was expecting to, but because it's a huge complex! First, there's a movie there which the folks at the entrance highly recommend that you see, and the movie took 20 minutes or so. It explained the reasoning for the monument, why the entire monument is funded only with private contributions, and quite a bit about the sculptor, the Lakota tribe, and Crazy Horse himself.

Crazy Horse was a member of the Lakota (Sioux). His was one of the tribes which refused to yield to the US army, and which defeated Custer and Little Bighorn, and which was defeated at Wounded Knee. He supposedly responded to a white man's question about where his land was with: "My lands are where my dead lie buried." The sculpture depicts this moment; the monument will be of Crazy Horse on his mount, pointing over his lands. I say "will be" because the project has no completion date. The sculpture was started in 1948, and as of 1998, only the face has been completed. Currently, work is progressing on the face of the horse, but it will obviously be many, many years before this statue will be finished. In fact, I wonder if I'll even be alive when the monument is completed.

Of note, it'll be the largest sculpture in the world when it is completed. All of Mt. Rushmore will fit inside of Crazy Horse's head. The sculpture will be taller than the Washington Monument! And like I said, there's a large complex on the grounds, with a museum, art galleries, restaurants, and a planned university and medical complex for the education and care of the American Indian. Pretty amazing overall.

Finally, I left Crazy Horse and drove eastward. After 60 or so miles, I ended up in Wall, SD, home of Wall Drug. Wall Drug started as a lonely pharmacy on the prairie, but ended up as a marvel of American entrepreneurship with its unlikely heroic marketing campaign: the proprietor started advertising for "free ice water", and a conglomerate was born. Now Wall Drug literally hosts a shopping mall, an amusement park, and a chapel. I didn't begin to look through all of it, but I did have lunch there, and wandered through a couple of shops there, as well.

There was a nice Native American art shop, and they had really cool things: authentic tomahawks, bows, arrow bags, drums, peace pipes, and ceremonial rattles. I loved so many things in there, and I finally bought a ceremonial rattle: it's totally amazing. It's Cheyenne-handmade, from a turtle shell, with deer hide to seal the sides and hold the rattles inside. The handle is wood, wrapped with deer hide, beaded with typical Plains Indians beads, and the neck is covered in beaver fur. Totally excellent. I'm so glad to be able to add this to the other outstanding things I bought in Alaska. I now have quite a little collection of native art to place in my little house in Atlanta!

I left Wall Drug around 3:30 and continued onward toward Sioux Falls for the night. Monday morning, I left South Dakota and drove through Minnesota and then Wisconsin, and I finally arrived in Michigan early that evening. It was great to see Heather after so much time! She looks great, as always. She'd left her son with her parents that evening, and so we had an evening to ourselves that night, so that we could catch up. It was really nice. After dinner, we went to her parents' house, and I met them and saw Bryce, her son, whom I hadn't seen in probably 2 years or so.

The next day, Heather and I went up to Lake Superior to the lakehouse. It's beautiful there. The house is a small blue cottage, one bedroom, and absolutely perfect. It overlooks the water, which is clear and cold, and which has beautiful small waves that make perfect lapping sounds. After Heather and I'd had a few hours there to just enjoy the day, Heather's mom and Bryce met us for a cookout. We had steak, potatoes, asparagus, and salad, and then later that night, we went down to the shore where we made a small fire and cooked marshmallows for s'mores, as well. It was lovely, toasting marshmallows and watching the sun set over Lake Superior.

The only glitch in my trip came that night, because I got sick and even threw up in the middle of the night! No one else got sick, so maybe I just ate too much. But I hardly slept that night, nauseated and sweating all night long.

The next morning, I felt minimally better, if only because my stomach was empty. Heather and I had planned on kayaking on the lake, but it was raining and I still felt lousy, so we just sat inside and relaxed, looking over the water. Later that day, we went back to Heather's parents' house, and Heather and Bryce went for dentist appointments while I took a two-hour nap. I felt much better afterwards, and was finally able to eat some crackers and cheese.

That night, Heather, Bryce, her parents, and I all just sat around, chatted, and enjoyed each other's company. Her parents are really nice, and I enjoyed them a lot. Her mother is a schoolteacher, and she's warm and funny, and she and Heather are a lot alike. Her father is a former Marine, and then served as a Michigan state police officer until he retired in 2003. He received a Purple Heart during the Vietnam War. As he himself said, he's "lived life on the edge". Now, he and Heather's mother travel pretty extensively....by motorcycle. In fact, they've done the Alaska trip that I did....by motorcycle. And they've done the Eastern Canada trip that I'm planning on doing, as well....by motorcycle. Makes me feel totally lame, by comparison. After all, I get to sit in a warm, covered Jeep in my t-shirt and jeans, while they ride in the open air, regardless of the wind, weather, or bugs, wearing fully-protective gear and helmets. But hey, it's not a contest, right?

It's been an interesting few days, for sure. In the past 6 days, I saw the mountains of Montana, the plains of Wyoming and South Dakota, a monument to American Presidents and another monument to the Native American spirit, a symbol of American entrepreneurship and ingenuity, the farmlands of Minnesota and Wisconsin, and Lake Superior. I also got to spend a few days with a good friend, her son, and her parents. What more could I ask of any road trip?

Three days of International Peace

Last Wednesday, August 11, I dropped Nimmi off in Calgary, and then headed another few hours south to the very southwestern tip of Alberta, to Waterton Lakes National Park. Waterton Lakes is at the southernmost end of the Canadian Rockies, and abuts against Glacier National Park in Montana and the American Rockies. Notably, Waterton and Glacier, although each owned by their respective countries, are co-managed as an "International Peace Park", demonstrating the cooperation, respect, and friendship of the USA and Canada. In fact, you can even hike across the US/Canadian border there.

I arrived at my lodge (Waterton Lakes Resort) around 1:30 in the afternoon, and my room wasn't ready yet. So I stopped at a local cafe for lunch and to call my insurance agent about my fender-bender from that morning. After I finished with that diversion, I went to the visitor's center for the park and then took a hike. After the long hikes with Nimmi, my foot wasn't up for another long one, although I was interested in the International Peace Hike, which starts in Waterton, hikes across the US border, and then ends at a lake in Glacier; you take a boat ride to get back to Waterton at the end. With two border crossings, it takes all day for the 8 mile hike. Unfortunately, it only happens on Wednesdays and Saturdays, and even though I had arrived on Wednesday, the hike had started at 8am, so I'd missed it. I decided, instead, to do a short but classic hike, up Bear's Hump.

Bear's Hump is a short hike, but steep. It's 0.7 miles each way, with 787 feet of elevation gain. And despite my recent education in walking slowly so that I don't have to stop for rest breaks, trust me that I had to stop several times going up the Bear's Hump and catch my breath. But at the top -- what an incredible, spectacular view. The weather was clear that day (thank goodness, after a week of rain in Jasper and Banff), and the view of Waterton Lake was outstanding. I sat at the top and just looked over the peaks and at the lakes for a long time before I came down.

I'd have loved to do another hike that day, but I decided not to push my luck with my foot, so I thought I'd do some short ones instead of one long one. I also wanted to see some of the scenic roads within the park. I started with the first scenic drive, down Akamina Parkway to Cameron Lake. The drive was beautiful. It starts out narrow, and then turns into more of a U-shaped glacial valley as you approach Cameron Lake. It's very shady and green, and there are lots and lots of peaks to see during the drive. I also saw lots of deer, especially. I decided, instead of hiking around Cameron Lake, to do a short walk to Akamina Lake, because I heard that moose frequent that lake. I didn't see any moose that day, unfortunately, but I saw lots of deer playing in the lake, and I watched them for a long time.

I slowly took the drive back to town, and then I took another of the scenic drives, on Red Rock Canyon Drive. Again, I thought I'd do a short hike along that way, but found out that there's no parking at the canyon due to construction. So I just did the drive rather than stopping and hiking. And this drive was completely different than Akamina Parkway. Waterton is colloquially known as "where the mountains meet the prairie", and this was obvious comparing this drive to the previous one. Akamina Parkway is located in a valley, with rocky, glacial mountains on either side. But this drive consisted of rolling hillside and low mountains which were green to the peaks, covered in grass and vegetation. It was a light green, too, grassy and fresh-looking, rather than deep, evergreen-green. The grasses were blowing in the breeze, and wildflowers bloomed all the way up the hillsides. I saw deer and black bear on the hillsides, playing and grazing. I was completely overcome by the beauty of it. I even saw a rainbow on my way back to town -- and it hadn't even rained! Maybe it was the fact that I had one entire day with no rain, or maybe it really was the scenery itself, but the variety of scenery that day blew me away.

I did some reading that night, and found out that a unique geologic feature resides in Waterton, the Lewis Overthrust. Basically, it's an area where two land masses collided, and in the process, the mountains were pushed up over the prairie. This feature is what makes such the stark contrasts between the flat prairie, rolling hills, verdant mountains, and then steep, glacial cliffs -- all within such a small area.

The next morning, I left Waterton and crossed the border back into the USA. I was excited at first -- I should have reliable, low-cost cell phone service again! -- until I realized that I had absolutely no service whatsoever within Glacier National Park. But despite that, I had an amazing two days to spend in Glacier, and I looked very forward to the prospect. The road from Waterton to Glacier is known as Chief Mountain International Highway, and the most notable feature on the road is Chief Mountain itself, which the Blackfeet Tribe regards as sacred. It is quite a mountain, flat-topped and completely dominant in the sky, even though it's only 9100 feet or so high, much lower than many other peaks I'd seen in the area.

I'd originally planned to drive the famous Going-to-the-Sun Road that day, but when I got to Glacier and realized where my hotel was, I changed plans and decided to drive to Many Glacier that day, instead. It's a shorter road, and would give me more time for a hike. Glacier has tons and tons of hiking trails -- it's rather overwhelming, actually -- but I finally decided to hike to Grinnell Lake, a glacial lake below a glacier of the same name. I'd have loved to hike to the glacier itself, but that would be a 10 mile hike, and just going to the lake would be 7, which I knew would be hard enough on my foot.

The hike to Grinnell Lake was amazing. First of all, it was definitely in grizzly bear country, with warning signs every so often, and so I was on red-alert throughout the hike. I even talked aloud to an imaginary "Mr. Bear"; I wished him a nice day, and told him to stay asleep for a few more hours. I also told him not to come looking for me, that neither of us really wanted to see each other up close that day. I felt a little crazy, but decided that being mistaken for a schizophrenic was better to being mauled by an accidental grizzly bear.

Secondly, the hike took me through lots of different terrain, from lake shoreline, up ridges of moraine, through subalpine forest, over marshes, through meadows, and finally to the lake. And then, of course, was the lake itself: impossibly turquoise and opaque, typical of a glacial lake. There was the glacier above it, and a waterfall which ran down to the lake. Gorgeous. It started to rain on that hike, but it wasn't too bad, and so I spent some time at the lake before I started the hike back. Typical of me after a long hike, I could hardly walk that night. But it was definitely worth it -- that was one of the best hikes I've ever done.

The next day, I decided to drive Going-To-The-Sun Road, which is the classic drive through Glacier National Park. I started at the park entrance, then took the 50-mile-long road westward all the way to the Apgar (west) entrance, and then drove it all the way back. I had hoped to hike again that day, but even if I had stubbornly not allowed my heel to stop me, the torrential rain would have. Yes, it poured the entire day. Poured. My jeep was completely covered in mud by the time I got back to the hotel that night. I didn't mind the rain so much, except that I'm afraid the scenery which caused the road to be named "going to the sun" probably suffered in the rain and thick, stormy clouds. I really didn't even take many pictures, because it was really hard to see and the light was poor.

What I do recall of that day were the many glacier features which I got to see: hanging valleys, horned mountains, aretes, cirques, and of course, the cloudy neon waters of the glacial lakes. I also learned that, due to the warming of the climate, all of the glaciers at Glacier National Park will be GONE by the year 2030. Every single one. The park rangers, and all of the reading material for the park, mentions that it believes global warming is likely the cause, although they do mention that warming cycles occur between ice ages, and so such a cycle may be the cause, as well.

I also learned a little bit more about the interesting nature of that particular area of land. As I mentioned before, Waterton demonstrates a collision of sorts between mountain and prairie. But all told, the Waterton-Glacier area contains animals, plants, and geologic features from the Pacific coast, high plains, and the northern and southern Rocky Mountains, which makes the park incredibly varied, elevation factor notwithstanding. It literally is a riot of vegetation and animals.

Even with the pouring rain, I was as astonished by this park as I was by Big Bend. Both parks have completely unexpected landscapes, and both parks caught me by surprise. If this trip serves, to some degree, as a "scouting" expedition for places that I'd like to visit again someday, then Waterton-Glacier is certainly on that very short list.

Learning About Glaciers....

So, I've had a few days to learn about glaciers. Nimmi and I saw lots of them in Jasper and Banff, and had a crash course at the Columbia Icefield center in Banff. After I dropped her off in Calgary, I continued on to Waterton Lakes and Glacier National Parks, in Alberta, Canada, and Montana, USA. I'll talk more about the national parks in a separate post. But since all of these parks are mountainous, and the lakes are glacial lakes, here are some things I've learned about glaciers, in the meantime:

1. A glacier is essentially a river of ice. Yes, a river. And just like a river, a glacier flows. It literally moves down the mountain.
2. Glaciers form when the amount of snow that falls in an area is more than the amount of snow that melts in that same area. They therefore form from a build-up of snow over time.
3. The snow in the mass is subjected to tremendous pressure, and the snow firms up and over time, turns to ice.
4. A large mass of ice which is stationary at the top of a mountain is called an "icefield".
5. At some point, the pressure exerted on the lower layers of snow from the higher layers becomes tremendous. When this happens, the lowest layer begins to move down the mountain, to "flow". At that point, the mass becomes a glacier.
6. Also due to extreme pressure, air is forced out of the mass. Air causes snow/ice to reflect white light; as the air is forced out of the mass, the glacier reflects blue light, and so appears blue.
7. As the glacier flows down the mountain, it carves the rock it flows over. The larger pieces of rock are deposited on the sides and at the bottom of the glacier, and are called "moraine". When Nimmi and I hiked both at Edith Cavell and Six Glaciers, we were basically hiking through moraine.
8. Glacier carves rock even to very fine, dust-like particles, called "rock flour". When the glacier melts in the summertime, the rock flour flows with the melting ice into the water, causing it to look milky -- which is why Lake Louise, and other glacial lakes, appear milky.
9. Rock flour also causes the coloration of glacier-fed lakes. At Lake Louise, the rock flour is primarily limestone, giving the green color to the water.
10. Two primary forces are at work on a glacier at any given time: (a) the amount of snow/ice which falls on the glacier and enlarges it; and (b) the amount of melt which occurs on the glacier each summer. If more melting occurs in the summer than water deposited on it in the winter, the glacier shrinks. If more deposition occurs than melting, the glacier grows.
11. The "toe", or front edge, of the glacier changes its position all the time. If the glacier moves forward more than it melts, than the toe advances. If the glacier melts more than it moves forward, then the toe recedes.
12. Due to friction against rock, the sides of a glacier move more slowly than the center does.
13. Also due to friction, the bottom layer of a glacier moves more slowly than the top layers do.
14. A glacier only becomes a glacier when it starts flowing. And a glacier ceases to be a glacier when it stops flowing. Therefore, if a glacier recedes to the point where it no longer flows, then it ceases to be a glacier.
15. All of the glaciers in the world are receding at unprecedented rates. The primary thought is that this is likely a result of climate change, but this is not definite. All glaciers go through periods of recession in between ice ages, so it is possible that this is simply one of those interim periods.
16. All of the glaciers in Glacier National Park (in Montana) will be gone by the year 2030. Yep, you heard me. Gone. Disappeared. Kaput.

So that's it, at least for now. I had a lot of questions about glaciers, and hope you've learned from my questioning. The pictures I've attached are, from top to bottom:

1. Athabasca Glacier, attached to the Columbia Icefield
2. Andromeda Glacier, also attached to the Columbia Icefield
3. Angel Glacier (at the top, spreading its wings), Cavell Glacier (around the pond, looking like it's covered with dirt), and Cavell Pond, which is fed by Cavell Glacier.

Splurge Week

What a week it's been. I arrived in Edmonton, Alberta, on Wednesday, August 4, after 6 days of driving back down the Alaska Highway. That afternoon, I picked up my friend Nimmi from the Edmonton International Airport, as she was coming to spend a week with me in the Canadian Rockies. Wow! -- my first visitor on my trip!

We stayed in Edmonton that night, at a very nice downtown hotel. We didn't do a whole lot, since Nimmi had worked the night shift before and was very tired, and since I'd been driving hard for 6 days and was also tired. So we just ate at a local pub, and then hit the hay pretty early.

Thursday morning, we left for Jasper National Park. We arrived that afternoon, and found out that there's an actual town in the middle of the national park (same goes for Banff, by the way). I had no idea that in Canada, there are actual municipalities in the middle of the parks. Anyway, we stayed at a really nice lodge on Pyramid Lake, just outside of the town (the Coast Pyramid Lake Resort). The hotel was fabulous, and the lake was gorgeous! We immediately changed clothes and then went down to the lake, where we rented a canoe and tooled around the lake. We then went back inside and changed into bathing suits, and went to the Miette Hot Springs that evening.

The hot springs were....unexpected. I'd been to a couple of hot springs on this trip: Chena Hot Springs in Fairbanks, and Liard Hot Springs in British Columbia. Both of these were natural springs; they have vegetation around the pools, and the pools themselves have algae on the rocks from the constant moisture. But not the Miette Springs; instead, they are more like swimming pools. There are four pools, in fact: two with hot water (40 and 38 degrees Celcius), and two with cold water (16 and 18 degrees Celcius). Apparently, the hot springs in that area has extremely hot water, at 54 degrees Celcius; so the water is taken from the natural spring, trucked daily to the Miette Pools, filtered and cooled, and then placed in the pools. It was just strange, being in a swimming pool with super-hot water. Nimmi and I tried out all four pools. The 40 degree pool was too hot, and I was more comfortable in the 38 degree pool. The 16 degree pool was brutally cold, so much so that I could only stay in it for a couple of minutes. But then we got into the 18 degree pool, and it felt quite nice after the frigid pool next to it. We stayed there for a while, actually, then got back into the 38 degree pool where we stayed for over an hour, until it got dark and we went back to our hotel.

The next morning, we decided to go for a hike. The visitors center recommended several hikes, and we decided to do Mt. Edith Cavell and Cavell Meadows. It was stunning. The hike has several glaciers on it, the most spectacular being the Angel Glacier (picture up above!) which floats above a glacier-fed lake with its turquoise color and icebergs floating in it. Nimmi and I were both blown away. As we continued up the hike, we passed through subalpine and alpine meadows, with wildflowers in bloom everywhere. These are spectacularly-adapted wildflowers, too -- they only have 60-90 days each year to grow, bloom, and go to seed. Pretty short growing season, overall -- and yet, we saw thousands and thousands of them in bloom. Amazing.

That night, as we drove back to our hotel, we went past two lakes in the area, Medicine Lake and Maligne Lake, and saw lots of wildlife on the road. Most impressively, there was a young black bear on the roadside, eating berries. He (or was it she?) completely decimated a bush, stripping it of berries. He then ran across the road. We also saw several elk that day, and some mountain goats -- all on the side of the road.

On Saturday, we left Jasper and drove down the Icefields Parkway toward Lake Louise and Banff National Parks. The weather overall that day was lousy, rainy and very cloudy, so the overall scenery was somewhat limited, unfortunately. But we stopped along the way to see several impressive waterfalls, and we saw lots of glaciers along the way. We also stopped at the Columbia Icefield, a large field of ice atop some mountains which then drapes down over the mountainsides into multiple glaciers. We took a bus tour up to one of them, the Athabasca glacier. Nimmi pointed out that the buses look like something from Star Wars, and she's right. The tires themselves were over 5 feet tall and 3 feet wide each. Once we got to the glacier, we were able to get out of the bus and walk on the glacier itself -- which is hard to do, even in hiking boots! I was scared that I'd fall and reinjure my elbow, but thankfully, made it around the ice without major injury. The glaciers themselves were impressive, glowing blue like I'd remembered from Seward a few years back. My favorite one is called the SnowDome; it's the only place in North America which is a Triple Continental Divide -- water from the glacier flows to the Pacific, Atlantic, and Arctic Oceans.

After we left the icefield, we drove on to Lake Louise for the night. We had booked a room at the Post Hotel and Spa, which was a very luxurious hotel which I'd found out about. And the room at the hotel was very nice. Aveda products, cedar closets, and with a separate water closet from the rest of the bathroom. We also had an absolutely fantastic dinner in the restaurant. The entire meal was amazing, but we both agreed that the bison carpaccio was our favorite.

For all its luxury and posh appearances, we had a horrible night in the hotel. The town of Lake Louise is right on a railroad line. Our hotel room faced the railroad station, and we heard the train every 15 minutes all night long. And we had to keep the windows open, because the room has no air conditioning, and it was quite hot in the room. But the worst part for me was the bed, which was like a block of wood. Absolutely, without question, this was the hardest bed I'd ever slept on in my entire life. Neither Nimmi nor I got any sleep that night.

Sunday morning, Nimmi asked if we could be moved to another room where we couldn't hear the train so much. And we learned something funny about the hotel: apparently, we had a room on the "standard" side -- but the hotel was willing to move us to a room on the "preferred" side. "Preferred" because it was quieter. Note that these are the hotel's designations, not mine. I've never heard something so bizarre; it's like they acknowledge that one side is preferred, and the other....NOT preferred. How odd. Anyway, they moved us to another room, and it was quieter. Unfortunately, the beds were still horrendous, and I got no sleep the second night, either.

But I digress. That afternoon, Nimmi and I went to the actual lake to look around. First, we stopped at Moraine Lake, which was an exquisite, clear turquoise. Lake Louise, however, was completely different -- it was more like a milky mint green color. They were both beautiful, but couldn't have been more different. I found out that Lake Louise actually changes color during the year, too: during the summer, when the lake is fed from glacier melt, the lake is milky green, like we saw, but during the fall and winter, when the glaciers aren't feeding the lake, it turns a clear blue color, more like Moraine Lake.

We decided to take another hike that day, to the Plain of the Six Glaciers Teahouse. It's a seven-mile hike round trip, up to a primitive teahouse up in the mountains. It was a nice hike, but it started raining on us about halfway up, and then it started pouring. Truly pouring. Which was amazing, considering that it was sunny and warm when we'd started. As a result, neither Nimmi nor I was dressed appropriately; I had on cotton pants, a cotton T-shirt, and a cotton sweater. No rain jacket, no hood. I got soaked to the core, and then, when we'd finally made it to the top (which seemed to take forever in the torrent, by the way), I got cold. Really, really cold. I'd made every hiking faux pas possible. Visions of hypothermia haunted me. But I drank lots of tea at the teahouse, warmed up a bit, and then luckily, the rain stopped.

Nimmi and I had met two other hikers up at the teahouse, a couple named Heidi and Jason, and so we shared teatime with them. We also hiked down with them, and it was nice -- I always like it when I have the chance to meet and chat with other travelers.

When we got back to our hotel, I took a long, hot bath in our fabulous Post Hotel bathtub, and then Nimmi and I ate dinner at the pub, and then we rented a movie. It was a nice evening. Unfortunately, I slept even worse that night than the first night, tossing and turning all night. Of all the hotels I've slept in since this trip began, the Post Hotel had -- by far -- the most uncomfortable beds. And it started to affect my mood, too. After all, I'd REALLY splurged on this hotel, and despite all its luxury, it was the worst sleep of my entire four months on the road.

Fortunately, Nimmi and I had planned an easygoing Monday. We drove the Bowhead Parkway from Lake Louise to Banff, and checked in early to the Banff Park Lodge (which, although it looked like a cave, had the most comfy beds). We then spent the day wandering around Banff's townsite. We shopped for souvenirs, and just hung out that day. That evening, we went to the Grizzly House for dinner, which was incredibly fun -- it's an old disco, and we had a telephone at our table, as did everyone else -- so we received and placed phone calls to our neighboring tables, and received and gave advice about what to eat and drink for supper. It was really fun, and the food was fantastic.

Tuesday, unfortunately, was a terrible day for me. I wish I could say otherwise, but I'd be lying. I woke up stressed about an issue with my house, and the ensuing telephone discussions did not lift my mood, but instead, made it worse. Despite that, Nimmi and I decided to do our third and final day of hiking that day. We went to Johnston Canyon, and hiked to the Inkpots. On that hike, we first past seven waterfalls, each of which was gorgeous. After the final falls, after a mile and a half, we continued on toward the inkpots, which are spring-fed pools. My problem was that my foot was already hurting from the Six Glaciers hike in Lake Louise (for those of you who don't know, I suffer occasionally with plantar fasciitis on my left heel, and it gets pretty bad sometimes). But I stubbornly decided I wanted to do the hike, which was probably a bad decision, because by the time I reached the inkpots after 3.5 miles, I could hardly walk -- and I then had to walk 3.5 miles back to get to the car. Needless to say, I was pretty miserable on that hike.

Despite that, the inkpots were beautiful. There are six of them, and they are all different colors: from green to turquoise to blue, and from milky to clear. They remain at 1 degree Celcius year-round. Beyond the inkpots was a very shallow river, whose name I don't remember, and the water there was perfectly clear over the rainbow-colored rock bed. I sat on a rock by the river, removed my shoe and sock, and tried to numb my left heel for the return walk.

Despite that, the return was pretty awful. I had real trouble walking, and cried in pain a couple of times. And then I did it -- I slipped on a step and fell, landing on my bottom and snapping my right elbow, which I'd injured two years ago. So now I had both an exquisitely painful left foot and a throbbing, numb right elbow and forearm. I bit my lip to get back to the car, but when I finally did, I started sobbing. Poor Nimmi, for having to deal with such a miserable loser that day.

The bright spot of the day occurred as we were driving back to our hotel -- another black bear! We got some good pictures again, and this brightened my mood. Despite my limping, I made it to the hotel restaurant for dinner, and we rented another movie. I fell asleep as soon as the movie ended, and don't think I even turned in the night.

On Wednesday morning, we got up early so that I could drive Nimmi to the Calgary International Airport for her return to Atlanta. And the trip was easy. Too easy -- in fact, Nimmi was going to get to the airport earlier than she wanted to -- so we decided to stop at a Starbucks for a coffee. After I got my coffee, we went out to the car. As we were backing out of the parking space, someone zipped around the corner and hit my car!!!! Unbelieveable! -- here I was, finally in a good mood after such a rotten day the day before, and now my car gets hit -- and Nimmi had to get to the airport. Fortunately, Nimmi and I weren't hurt, and Janie has only very, very minor damage: another dent in the plastic (her third one of this trip). It'll be easy to fix. The Cadillac who hit me was not so lucky -- she'll have body work to do on the entire passenger side of her car. But, after two nights of good sleep at the Banff Park Lodge, I was in a good mood, and so not even the crash affected that.

So it was a great week, Tuesday's day of hiking notwithstanding. We hiked three times, went canoeing, sat in the hot "springs", saw mountain goats, elk, and bear, learned all about glaciers, drank tea in the mountains, and met some nice people. It was a great week.

And now, it's off to Waterton Lakes National Park, and then (finally) back to the United States to go to Glacier National Park. I have to admit, after two weeks in Canada, I'll be glad to be able to use my cell phone once again, and to have reliable internet service. But this was truly a splurge week to be proud of.

A special thanks goes to Nimmi, for sharing this amazing experience with me, and especially for all of her help on Tuesday, when I was so difficult. It'll be a week to remember.

Musings

Today I arrived in Watson Lake, in the Yukon Territory. There is an interesting monument here in Watson Lake, called the Sign Post Forest. It has the dubious distinction of being "the largest collection of stolen material in the world". Apparently, in 1942, a homesick US GI was helping build the Alaska Highway. He erected a sign in Watson Lake which pointed the way to his hometown (Danville, Illinois) and listed the mileage.

Since then, the Forest has become a collection for tourists, who erect their own signs, along with their mileages and any other messages they want to leave. The city of Watson Lake has continued to erect new posts to keep up with the demand. As of 2009, there were over 69000 signs in the Forest.

Many of the signs are stolen signs which indicate cities, but some are stolen business signs, some are license plates, and some aren't stolen but rather are created, either formally (i.e., carved professionally with a family's name and their travel dates on it) or informally (handwritten on wood, tooled into a camping plate, etc). I wandered through for over an hour, looking for signs from places I've visited on this trip, and I didn't even cover half of the Forest.

I noticed a few things: first of all, in case you weren't already aware, Texans are super-proud -- there were TONS of Texas signs, from all over the state. Same goes for the folks from Michigan, Wisconsin, and Oregon. And for the Germans, Austrians, Poles, and Czechs, who also had tons and tons of signs erected. Californians and Coloradoans are apparently not very proud, as there were very few signs from those states. (BTW, this is not a scientifically performed study, so don't critique my research methodology!)

One other story, just because it's humorous and I forgot to mention it before. Like I said on my last post, I think the Alaskan natives are hilarious. There's just something about the way they think and speak which cracks me up. I forgot to mention that when I was at the Eskimo Olympics, I had an interesting conversation, with an Athabascan artisan. Here's how it went:

She: Why aren't you wearing your native outfit?

Me (mystified): Ummm, I didn't think I was allowed to....

She: Of course, you're allowed to! You have to enter the regalia competition!

Me (stumbling through my words, and thinking that I cannot enter, since I'm not a native): Oh, I didn't think I was supposed to enter.

She: I can help you! What tribe are you?

Me (not sure how to answer): Oh, I'm not a native...

She: What are you then?

Me: Ummm, I dunno, just Jewish I guess....

She: Oh! We like Jews! They're from Russia! They're God's people too!

(Then she looked at Caroline.)

She: So what are you?

Caroline: Oh, I'm Catholic.

She: Oh, well then, you're just like us....

Too funny. I know that people often confuse me for Greek, or Italian, or gypsy, or Ricki Lake or Monica Lewinsky; I just never in my life expected to be mistaken for an Alaskan Native!