The day after our 12-hour lake excursion, another 12-hour outing commenced as we tackled the Icefields Parkway. At least this time, we didn’t hit the road at 8:30 AM; it was more like 11:30. I’m pretty sure the early bird gets nothing worth getting up for. The Icefields Parkway travels between Banff and Jasper National Parks. It’s one gorgeous lake, mountain, stream, glacier, and forest after another. We traveled along it until we reached the Athabasca Glacier, an 80-mile journey. How did 160 miles take us 12 hours? Perpetual gawking, climbing, and picture taking suck up time like a bulimic vampire sucks up body fluids.

We stopped to see Herbert Lake, Hector Lake, Bow Lake, and Peyto Lake. Surprisingly, all those stops did not lead to lake overload. At Bow Summit, we hiked about four miles to investigate the Bow Summit Lookout. This trail rose above the timberline into grounds already covered by substantial amounts of snow. The last 200 meters of the path were particularly vertical and icy. We were cursing our lack of crampons. Despite the trickiness of the terrain, this trek was our favorite part of the day. Maybe because it left the masses behind in favor of the whistles of hoary marmots. True to Banff’s volatile nature, during this hike the weather alternated between sunny and snowing at a dizzying pace.

Jason and I made it to the Athabasca Glacier just before darkness thwarted any further explorations. We walked across the lunar-like landscape left by that retreating giant. Although we didn’t get to touch the glacier, an undertaking too dangerous without a guide, we felt and heard it exhale cold rumbling breaths. In true Sabin fashion, we kept wandering around Athabasca until it was so black we couldn’t see. We wouldn’t want to waste a second- unless, of course, that second meant getting up earlier. We didn’t make it back to Banff until 11:30 PM.

The Icefields Parkway is extraordinary. Strange peaks line it on both sides like warped sentinels in some unhurried procession, each one a perplexing singularity. To me, one looked as if a colossal drop of water was rippling out its sides. Others seemed like parts of a Hollywood set, real from the front but thin and unsubstantial from the back. Along the Parkway, rocks ascend in layers so high you can’t even see where they end. Glaciers recline on and cling to these anomalous towers, over one hundred frock their cliffs and crevices.

The last day of our trip, we decided to take it easier, as in not traveling and hiking for 12 hours of the day. We went to Kootenay National Park, about a 40-minute drive. There, we walked through Marble Canyon and the Paint Pots. Marble Canyon, a picturesque fissure carved by two receding glaciers, is a perfect spot for shooting waterfalls. The Paint Pots are circular pools dyed red, orange, and yellow by oxide-bearing springs. The ochre they contain was once used by the people of the First Nation for ceremonial painting. Both of these paths were rambles more than hikes. Even with ceaseless picture taking, we got back to Banff in time to eat Canadian halibut and salmon at The Maple Leaf. Yum!

That brings me to where all meaningful conversations eventually go- food. If you travel to Banff, plan on sampling cuisine at its many stylish restaurants. Also, be prepared to encounter Australian, British, and Irish accents practically more than Canadian ones. Tourists aren’t the only foreigners that flock to the Canadian Rockies.

Banff was surreally stunning and shockingly cold. The sightseers were as ample as the curious crestlines but avoidable for those willing to do some footwork. Next time we visit Banff, I’ll be bringing six coats just in case.

Jason and I have been hearing wonderful things about Banff National Park in Canada the last few years. (Yes, Canada also has the whole national park thing going on.) So, we decided an investigation of the Canadian Rockies was overdue. Were the remarkable rumors all true? The beauty of Banff was unbelievable and so were the crowds. The cold was bitterer than an endive after a breakup; we didn’t expect to be snowed on repeatedly in mid-September. Yes, Banff exceeded our expectations in many ways.

Canada may be another country but flying there is quick. When our plane arrived in Calgary, it was 41 degrees out. That was about 40 degrees colder than the weather we left back home, a foreshadowing of the unanticipated chilling yet to come.

It was dark when we reached Banff, but the next morning we awoke to a view like no other? Nope, we could have been in Kansas for all we could tell; the circling peaks were concealed by closely-gathered clouds. Stratus obstructions aside, we still ventured out on two hikes. Our first was a brief one to Bow Falls. Bow Falls, located on the Bow River, is short and fat, not your typical chute of a cascade. It was cool and cold.

On our second hike of the day, we summited Tunnel Mountain. The climb to the top of Tunnel Mountain is a local favorite because it’s only three miles long and offers views, views, views. We saw clouds, clouds, clouds… and some fog. Oh, and we got rained and snowed on. Yes, we missed much of Tunnel Mountain’s best assets, but we now have this exciting story about how we saw nearly nothing on Tunnel Mountain. Don’t be jelly! I wore a long-sleeved shirt and four jackets on our hiking outings. Yet, I was still freezing when we were done. I couldn’t get warm, even after a shower so hot it would have made Old Faithful feel inadequate.

When we woke up the following morning, there was snow on the ground and peaks all around us that had been obscured the day before. We had been surrounded obliviously, but I don’t mind mountain stalkers so much. The clearing of the clouds didn’t mean temperatures were any warmer though. They remained in the 30s as we set out early for famous Lake Louise.

Louise is the kind of lake that looks pristine and untouched but in reality, sees more action than Chuck Norris on the range. Visitors flock to her turquoise shores like glacier-fed lochs are going out of style. (Oh wait, thanks to our warming planet I guess they are.) We woke up early in order to get to Lake Louise before the parking lot filled up, which typically happens around 9:00 AM. We didn’t make it by 9:00, but we parked by 9:30. Thanks to the disagreeable weather, the parking lot didn’t completely fill until nearly 10:00. Lake Louise was still crowded though. We walked around on the Lakeshore Trail, accompanied by dozens of moseying tourists. Following that stroll, we went inside the Chateau Lake Louise for lunch and warmth; I was already freezing. I left the Chateau with another jacket (purchased not “borrowed”), making five coats my total.

After lunch, we felt like a little afternoon tea. Lake Agnes, a five-mile-roundtrip hike from Lake Louise, shelters a historic and functioning teahouse on its inhospitable shore. Yes, you can trek into the wilderness and then nibble tea and biscuits while enjoying the grandeur of a subalpine lagoon. Don’t expect electricity to come with your soup though. The trail to Lake Agnes was busy and largely covered in snow and ice. Let’s see how good you are at irrational algebra. Tourists not used to hiking + steep snow-covered slopes =? You guessed it; we passed many floundering “hikers” wearing inappropriate footwear like dress boots and traction-less tennis shoes. There was a whole lot of slipping going on.

And that fifth coat I purchased? I never took it off. Despite the uphill climb, I only unzipped a few of my jackets for about 15 minutes in total. However, the surreal experience of being served biscuits and room-temperature lemonade in a lofty piece of the planet made my chilled innards acceptable.

Although the trails were slick, we decided to keep heading up from Lake Agnes to Little Beehive, a mile jaunt each way. This turned out to be our favorite part of the day. The views were incredible, Lake Louise was visible, and the crowds were invisible. Coming down wasn’t as dicey as we feared it would be. Jason struggled a bit but nothing compared to the thrashing tourists we passed in their equestrian boots.

Before heading back to Banff, we detoured to Moraine Lake. Moraine Lake, nestled in the Valley of the Ten Peaks, was even lovelier than Lake Louise, and the crowds knew it. Even though darkness was approaching, tourists clung to boulders in all directions snapping their mandatory pictures. We took the Rockpile Trail to appreciate the view that used to be on the Canadian $20 bill.

Next week, you will find out just what we did on our final days in Banff. Oh, the thrill of exploring the Canadian Rockies vicariously through my long-winded mediocre writing!