Weeks, if not months in the planning. Itinerary on a spreadsheet, route planned out and possible attractions and activities identified, yet well still managed to be organised to leave Tunnel Mountain Campsite a day early!
Paid a visit to the Kooteny National Park instead and in particular, the Paint Pots. All was going swimmingly until I glanced at the petrol gauge, which was showing empty,…or so I thought. Gas stations (see how easy the lingo is) are few and far between so panic began to set in.
However, Sally soon deducted that there was a station not far from our destination and that all being well we should make it there! Unfortunately although we had bought the most up-to-date guidebooks the gas station had not been existence for at least 5 yrs! The next station was 45kms away but there had been a power cut earlier and it could not be guaranteed to be back on…
Attempting to stay calm as we were now in the middle of nowhere with no chance of making it to any gas station I approached a fellow RVer for help and advice. These good helpful folk came over to our RV and quickly solved the problem. I had totally misread the gauge and we had infact a ¼ of a tank left!!!
The Paint Pots were well worth a visit. These ochre mud flats were used originally by 1st Nation peoples to decorate tepees and themselves. Later the mud was excavated and transported to a paint factory in Calgary.
Hey everyone! My hand has just about recovered! But typically yesterday I fell over and cut my knee! I don’t want to upset anyone but I have no spoon updates! The campsite is really good and every so often there are some swings! I am very exited because tomorrow (the 17th) we are going white water rafting!!!! I can’t believe that tomorrow will be a week since we got the motorhome, time is flying by! Xxxx Eilidh
Sally here, I am glad to report that I have managed to control by hissy fits – perhaps, as the threat of bears has not been so high. The Paint Pots were mystical and fun and Eilidh got a lot of ochre mud on her as I thought we could collect some and dry it out for her Journal. Gordon laughed at me when I expressed surprise that it does not easily come off skin and clothes. He pointed out it was the highly concentrated mineral used in ochre paint – ho hum.
The drive through the Icefields Parkway was absolutely stunning and we stopped at Peyto Lake. Bridal Veil Falls and the Columbia Icefield. The trip on the Snocoaches to the Glacier was interesting, cold and breathtaking despite the presence of the ubiquitous stupid American Tourist. More on Icefields next blog from Eilidh and Gordon who will tell more about this and today’s planned trip to Miette Hot Springs.
How to Identify Stupid American Tourists
These strange creatures are easy to identify as they helpfully wear a large name badge pinned to their polyester jacket or in the case of the extremely stupid sub species a great big plastic holder round their neck displaying their NAME IN CAPS. There are no instructions on what to do if they are lost like Paddington Bear but their tour company is displayed prominently.
Another way to identify these strange creatures is by the way they nod gormlessly and answer (wrongly) the tour guide’s questions. Marge and Norm – these appear to be common names are aged around 55 plus and the majority of them favour a fuller figure and check polyester. Norm may wear a dashing sports jacket and will have white cotton or blue baseball cap perched on his head. Ellen is a thinner, more orange and wrinkled version who strides ahead blazing the trail to the toilets from the snack bar for the other wrinklies.
These tourists do not walk. For instance when they reach the top of Banff Gondola they stagger and waddle round the observation deck in large clumps looking for the soda and muffins. It is not possible for their GM bodies to walk 0.5 km to the summit. This behaviour is also displayed at the Glacier where they tentatively place an open toed sandal on the ice and squeal. With a great deal of effort they move the necessary 5 yards for the photo opportunity and scurry back into the snocoach. More on this strange wildlife in future posts.
