Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Banff....f: July 2011











Yes, I added an extra "f" because Banff...f is "effing" fenomenal! The pictures don't do it justice, believe me.

The town of Banff...f is located in the middle of Banff...f National Park in Alberta, Canada. It's about a ninety minute drive from Calgary. Kate and I spent a week there recently and were blown away by the beauty of the place, the abundant wildlife, the friendliness of the locals, and the frightening cost of a nice lunch.

Ada and I had visited Banff...f back in the late '80's in the dead of winter. We were heavy into cross-country skiing in those days and had read about the famous Banff...f Springs Hotel and the wonderful x-country skiing in the area. Actually, given the way we approached this sport, we should have called it Cross-Country Falling. Anyway, it was a wonderful trip and the skiing was remarkable despite temperatures that stayed right around 0 (but it was a dry heat!). I remember that our room at the venerable Banff Springs Hotel was one of the only rooms without a view, so we had that going for us. I also remember that on one of our drives along the scenic Bow Valley Parkway, a rarely seen lynx slunk by our car during a rest stop. I'd show you a picture of it, but I got so excited I fumbled with the camera and got about 100 out-of-focus shots of what might have been some sort of mammal or perhaps an odd looking bush. I've always wondered what Banff...f looked like in the summer, so this was an opportunity to scratch that particular itch.



We were delighted to discover that flying from the Destin area to Calgary was not too difficult. Continental took us from Ft. Walton Regional Airport to Houston and then non-stop to Calgary. A rented Ford Fusion took us the rest of the way to the park and our accomodations: a week's timeshare at the Banff...f Rocky Mountain Resort. I swapped a week on the Cape in November for a week in Banff...f in July. Boy, did someone get screwed!

We took several terrific excursions during our week, but the Bow Valley Parkway and the Icefields Parkway were absolutely magnificent. The Bow Valley Parkway connects Banff...f with Lake Louise. It provides a slow, scenic 35-mile alternative to the high speed Trans Canada Highway. On any given day lucky motorists will see elk, bighorn sheep, wolves, bear, moose, or busloads of people from Japan. We rode this beautiful strand almost every day and saw everything except moose. One day we spied a group of bighorn sheep grazing by the roadside. After taking a bunch of mediocre pictures, we moved on down the road and saw a large, black wolf slinking in the direction of the sheep.

"This oughtta be good," I said to Kate.

"Maybe we should warn the sheep," Kate suggested.

"I don't speak bighorn," I said sheepishly. (sorry)

At any rate, as the wolf got closer, we watched intently. One of the sheep scented the wolf and immediately bounded away down a steep nearby slope. We never saw what happened to the other sheep, but I guess Nature has a way of evening things out for all concerned.

We were enthralled by the beauty and the possibilities of the Bow Valley Parkway and traveled all or part of it each day. Further down the line lay the Icefields Parkway, which begins just past Lake Louise and continues for 150 miles toward Jasper. While it is harder to view wildlife because of the higher speeds allowed on this road, the natural beauty of the lakes, glaciers, and mountains make it worth the effort. We tried to ride this parkway on an "iffy" day with rain and temperatures in the 40's. We had rented a neat GPS-activated narration gizmo that plugged into the car's cigarette lighter. It was like having a very well informed, (almost too well informed if you get my drift) local expert in the car with us. As the narrator commented on this peak or that glacier, Kate and I tried desperately to see even a glimpse of what he was going on about. Alas, the fog and low sky rendered all of the natural wonders invisible. We were determined to get back to that drive and a couple of days later, the weather was as sparkling clear as a crisp New England September afternoon. We had returned the GPS gizmo, so we had to make up our own narration.

It went something like this:

"On your left you will see yet another 12,000 foot peak. You've been looking at these peaks for almost a week now so I don't know what more I can say about them except that some people claim this peak resembles a group of ladies playing Mahjong while other people look at this peak and see a group of really big rocks which eventually come to a point. Personally, I don't want to get involved."

After a wonderful week of viewing majestic peaks, lakes so blue you could only describe them as "really, really blue lakes," elk and bighorn sheep up the yin yang, and old railroad hotels and chateaux that evoke memories of old railroad hotels and chateaux, Kate and I were anxious to get back to sea level where the temperature is in Farenheit, the dollar is worth what it's worth, and speed limits never read "100".

Ain't life grand? eh?
J

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Coco's World: July 2011





Kate's ridiculously cute, impossibly neurotic Shi Tzu is named Coco. Actually, it's Cocohoney. Kate had named her Honey and her grandson Jack added Coco because he felt she looked like Coco-puffs cereal. At various times Coco will respond to these two names as well as Rosie, and Rose Petal. When I say "respond", I mean the dog might blithely look over her shoulder at you as she chooses to ignore your request.

Lassie she ain't.

Coco is completely self-aware. She knows the following about herself: she is cute; she will be fed like clockwork no matter how stubborn she may have acted that day; she is superior to all of the creatures she sees as she gazes out her window (pictured above), including joggers and people from Alabama.

That window is Coco's view of the world. She seems very content to spend hours sitting rather regally and watching the various happenings out that window. Whenever anything untoward enters her world-view, say a lizard, squirrel, landscaper, or member of Congress, she will sharply voice her disapproval until the offending critter moves out of her line of sight. I don't know if they have yentas in Tibet, Coco's ancestral home, but she's a Tibetan yenta if I ever saw one.

Kate rescued Coco about four years ago from an abusive puppy mill situation. Coco had been living isolated in a crate and had never been socialized. Kate was told that it would take Coco a while to warm up to her but she would eventually. With great patience and dedication, Kate was able to break through Coco's distrust of large beings and begin her entry into something close to a dog's normal life. It wasn't easy, but today Coco and Kate have achieved a nice mutual respect and love for each other.

She still hates me, though. Coco, that is.

Kate has a roomy, comfortable dog crate that Coco really enjoys. She will retreat to her "house" several times a day, especially if she feels nervous or senses that Kate is going out on an errand. Whenever she leaves the house, Kate tells Coco that she is going shopping and will be back in "twenty-two minutes." Immediately, Coco will head happily into her home and patiently await Kate's return. If she understands the meaning of the passage of time, she's never let on. Whether Kate is back in twenty-two minutes or four hours, Coco greets her return in the same way: modest gratitude and benign indifference: "I knew you'd be home eventually; I really wasn't worried about it. When do we eat?"

Coco spends most of her day lounging around the house, finding different areas in which to nap. In this way she is much like your humble blogger. The only strenuous activity Coco engages in centers around the stuffed animals Kate has bought her. The local Pet Smart store is able to stay open because of these purchases. They number in the millions. For some unknown reason, the minute Kate picks up one of these ratty-looking, squeaky toys, Coco goes completely berserk, jumping up and down and barking her sharp, loud yelp until Kate agrees to give the animal up and allow Coco to fiercely tear it apart with little razor sharp teeth while dragging the poor squirrel/hedgehog/fox/monkey around the house, activating the squeaking noise in every room of the house over and over again.

Good times...good times.

Walking Coco can be a challenge. She hates any kind of adverse weather condition including wind, rain, and excessive sun. Thunder absolutely sends her over the edge. She will begin shaking uncontrollably until Kate picks her up and calms her down. I tried doing the same, but Kate was wise to me. Anyway, when Coco is taking a walk, we have to hope for almost complete silence. Any noise out of the ordinary will break Coco's concentration and the mission is all but over. Luckily, Coco accepts her part of the bargain and will agree to "hold off" until we try again later.

She may be a neurotic, but at least she's a responsible one.

Something many of us should aspire to.

Ain't dogs grand?
J