Train+Bike... Castle Mountain on the Bow Valley Parkway

(L to R) Tony and John at Castle Mountain wilderness hostel

"Acch," says John as we all stare at his knees, "Ah dough'n laak
taahts." John is from Manchester, England and he arrived at the Castle Mountain H.I. hostel (halfway between Lake Louise and Banff) about the same time Michelle and I did.

While we spent the day slowly peddling a crispy fall's 30km along the
Bow Valley Parkway's curvy and scenic roadway, John cycled about 120
kilometres from Radium Hot Springs on just a breakfast and
chocolate-chip cookies. He's on a silver Marin with just a couple of
red Ortliebs on the back. He doesn't like tights, but he does have a
bottle of white wine which he is glad to share with Michellle, myself,
and Tony the hostel manager as darkness sets in.

Tony ~ an avid cycle tourer himself who's run the hostel for the past
eight years ~ is in a sharing mood. A group of twenty-eight Christian
men booked up the hostel in the previous two days for "fun, fellowship
and worship ~ and junk food," as Tony puts it. They left behind a
couple of meat-covered Domino's pizzas, Costco-sized muffins, and
fluffy cake ~ but to my dispointment ~ no booze.

Tony offers all hostel visitors some pizza, but ~ with the exception of
John, who wolfs back two slices ~ doesn't get many takers. Michelle's a
vegetarian and is preparing a mushroom-and-snowpea pasta for the two of
us, and a new visitor from Bowen Island, B.C. (who I wager is also
vegetarian) vaguely explains that she's Inuit and declines the pizza
offer.

"Eskimo-girl" (as Michelle and I come to call her, as we've forgotten
her name) says that she'll be circling Canada and the U.S. by car to
investigate eco-retreat investment opportunities. She talks reverantly
of swimming with dolphins and shares a ephiphanous story about a sea
lion nudging her foot.

Having come from a week's worth of
"human-animal-contact-in-the-wild-is-bad" messages in Jasper and Banff
National Parks, I ask her what she thinks of the destruction such
encounters seem to lead to, in comparison human-dolphin contact.

Eskimo-girl answers vaguely that she's been a micro-biologist, then a
Parks Canada employee, then calls the parks "sacrifice" areas so humans
can learn about animals. I'm not sure if she's very smart, very
spiritual, or very full of shit, but the conversation's gotten a little
too West-Coast woo-woo for me and reminds me that I'll be back in
Vancouver and possibly talking to more people like this in a few days.
I grab a cloth and start washing the dishes while Michelle (bless her)
tag-teams the conversation. It turns out that Eskimo-girl isn't
actually Inuit at all, but said so earlier to mess around with us.

After dinner the hostel's warm and cozy thanks to Tony's fireplace and
loaner sheepskin slippers. Everyone settles into a mellow mood, and I
promise Tony and John they can take the fully-loaded folding bikes for
a spin tomorrow morning before we leave, if they're nice. Which they
are.

[To view all the stories from this train-and-bike journey around western Canada, click Miteymiss's blog]

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Castle Mountain, Alberta
September 30, 2007