Seven Days in Canada - Road Trip Notes 2015

July 9, 2015 

North Dakota between Minot and the Canadian border was rolling, green and blustery. Oil and grain operations exist side by side, and, and with typical North Dakota fury, strong winds whipped up "potholes", as small bodies of water are called here. Shale oil and gas extraction continue into Saskatchewan. A Canadian guy working the border told me, with pride, that "North Dakota uses fracking and we don't!" Not quite the case, it turns out. Fracking is as common and controversial in Canada as it is in the USA.

A fracking site. (Screen grab.)

When we entered Canada from North Dakota the morning of June 11 we were among few tourists heading into Saskatchewan. The stern customs officer confiscated a dozen eggs due to a virulent bird-flu outbreak in Minnesota, from whence we'd come, and questioned us in detail about whether we were carrying firearms. We are not among the 30 percent of Americans, according to Gallup, who say they own a gun, and we passed into the country without hassle.

Conversely, when we returned to the USA via a small border crossing in Grand Forks, B.C., the customs people were keen on all things pharmaceutical. We speculated that some Canadians, living with strict gun control, might be itching for an AK-47 or two. And that US citizens with dozens of over-priced prescriptions prefer to buy them where they cost half of what Big Pharma gets away with in the USA. Oh yeah, Canada has price controls for prescription drugs. What a concept!

Saskatchewan and Alberta, along the Trans Canada Highway, are mostly flat and featureless. Our strategy was to get to the great national parks, Banff and Jasper, ASAP and with as little pain as possible. The distance between the border at Portal, ND, and Canmore, Alberta, our starting point for park exploration, was 670 miles. Google maps said we should figure on driving for 10 hours and 25 minutes.

Google maps doesn't know that we rarely drive more than five hours at a crack. Why should we? We're retired! We took two days.

Also, full disclosure, on this trip we slept in our Four-Wheel pop-up camper 10 nights, in motels 8 nights, and with friends or family, 11 nights. On long driving days we usually motel it, especially if the weather is threatening as it was our first two days in Canada. By the time we reached Swift Current, SA, a late- afternoon downpour was underway as we bolted with our small travel bags into a hotel.

You don't need a Four-Wheel Camper to enjoy Canada. We never once on this 30-day trip used it for its intended off-road purposes. Perhaps on a longer trip we would have. But it was cool to hang out with the tents in campgrounds because our truck with its pop-up camper often requires less space than a car hauling a family with two tents. Plus we're accustomed to the tent-camping lifestyle having practiced it for several decades. We feel at home with tent pitchers and campfire makers and people who brush their teeth in the woods and are not opposed to hiding behind a bush for "number one."

Compared to a tent, our deluxe-on-the-inside tiny camper is the Taj Mahal and we are rich. Compared with behemoth RVs, which we are occasionally forced to park amidst, we are paupers to be pitied. If they don't run their generators at night, we won't crank up our sound system. Or hide behind a bush.

PK is dishing up a dinner I prepped mostly at home and froze, reheated in a super-good nonstick pan. The Four-wheel Camper has a two-burner stove, ample refrigerator with freezer, queen-sized bed, furnace, radio and iPod plug-in, and plenty of storage. However, there's no room to dance.

On this two-day drive, and on other "let's just get there" days on this month-long road trip, we were entertained and often enthralled by three books on CD: The Round House by Louise Erdrich, 5 stars; The Tiger, a True Story of Vengeance and Survival, 5-stars; Lone Wolf by Jodi Picoult, 3.5 stars.

Good books make the miles fly, and we both enjoy being whisked into worlds created by spoken words. Nothing wrong with  Lone Wolf, by the way. Like every Picoult book I've read,  the end of each chapter makes you have to start the next, and so on, the very definition of "page turner." It's just that the other two books were deeper and more thought provoking, and with Erdrich especially, beautifully crafted. Although John Vaillant,  author of The Tiger, a True Story of Vengeance and Survival, provided a riveting narrative about a little-known part of eastern Russia where tigers and people still co-exist, sometimes with bad results on both sides. The book provides fascinating history about this little-known part of Russia, but takes place in modern times. Highly recommended.

Back to the road. Along with listening to recorded books, PK and I amused ourselves by creating a list of things we learned or saw on this trip, May 24 to June 23, 2015, especially regarding Canada.

The best time to visit Banff and Jasper and British Columbia may be when we were there, early to mid-June, before summer vacation begins. Crowds were sparse, for the most part, at popular attractions. (A couple exceptions will be described in a coming post.)
Many campgrounds in Banff and Jasper were closed, but we had no problem getting sites. However, at our last Canadian campsite Thursday, June 18, the camp host informed us that starting the next day - when school let out - every site was reserved until school resumed the second week in September.

Forget the cell phone, unless you have someone you really need to keep in touch with.  We tried getting one of our phones online via two cell service providers. The first failed completely and refunded our money. After four days and several frustrating hours with the second provider, the phone got service. Why bother with a cell phone? We didn't need to make calls. I used it in a campground once to create a wifi hotspot. However, son Chris Korbulic was on a massive first descent on an island off Papua, New Guinea, and we were desperate, as parents tend to be, to hear what the hell was going on. We did get a few calming updates via the phone— he lived another day!—but wifi is widely available and we could have managed. But mostly, I'm afraid we're addicted to a pleasant voice telling us that in a quarter mile we should turn left onto highway such and such, and that, a right turn onto a specific road is coming up, and we've reached our destination when we've reached it.

August 2016 update: During our recent road trip to Vancouver Island, we paid Verizon $2 a day for service. Great deal. Verizon also provides this service for Mexico.

We learned that it is actually possible to navigate with printed maps! 

Many campgrounds in B.C. and in Banff/Jasper have dishwashing sinks outside the restrooms, often with hot water. Such a great idea.

Rental RVs are a huge trend. It seemed that every third of fourth RV was a Canadream, or a CruiseCanada, and occasionally, CruiseAmerica. Smart way to travel, it seems.

There we are on the right next to a couple of nearly identical rental RVs. 

Grizzly bears are abundant in Banff and Jasper and warnings are common. However. They are not the fear-inducing alarm-bell ringing warnings we saw and heard in the USA's Glacier National Park when we visited in August 2010. True, a couple people had been killed by grizzlies near Yellowstone in 2010. But still. PK and I bought bear spray in Glacier ($34 each!) and turned around after about a half hour of hiking through an area we were pretty sure was rich in roaring bears just like the one in photos. Hungry for the neck. Going for the gut. Agonizing death.

Bear -scare photo in Glacier National Park, USA. Note: In
Yellowstone Park, where we spent a couple days early in the trip,
you can RENT bear spray canisters.

The spirit of the Canadian national park's grizzly bear warnings are more along the lines of protecting the bears from stupid people. In other words, Look, folks. If you provoke or surprise the bears, or tempt them with careless camping, you put them in danger because a bear that attacks people is doomed. Those are not the words used, of course, but that's what they mean. Also, in Banff (and maybe Jasper) it is illegal to hike/backpack in bear country with fewer than four people. Don't be stupid is the underlying message.

The few "rest areas" we used along the Trans Canada Highway in Alberta were filthy urine-soaked stinking messes. No flush toilets. Wet floors. No sinks. One just east of Calgary, I could not bring myself to use. Other areas we visited in Canada offered restrooms in the true sense of the word.

Just west of Calgary, Alberta, and not far from our destination the second night out of North Dakota,  we got a hint of magnificent things to come. We stayed that night in Canmore, a lovely tourist town just outside of Banff, and the next morning, we launched into the best of the Canadian Rockies. Blog with more photos, fewer words, coming soon.

One thing can be said for sure about these two Canadian national parks; the postcard shots are everywhere and the scenery stretches over days on the road. On hiking trails, it could go on for months. Maybe a lifetime.

Winter Camping along N. California Coast with Four-Wheel Camper

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This huge Roosevelt  elk trotted past our camp along the Pacific Ocean in the Redwood National Park's Gold Bluffs campground. We saw hundreds of Roosevelt elk in the Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park area.

We guessed his rack was three- to-four-feet.

PK and I have lived in the Rogue Valley of Southern Oregon since the early 1970s. Through the decades, we mostly stuck close to home. Limited funds. Two kids. Two jobs. Two-week vacations. You know the no-thrill drill.

No complaints, though, as we had the Wild and Scenic Rogue River at our disposal and all the weekend rafting, kayaking, hiking, camping, we could handle. Now that we're retired, we've started the exotic explorations we've always fantasized about, and in the past two years are fortunate to have visited South Africa, Uganda, and Nepal.

But we haven't forgotten where we live, not just Oregon's Rogue Valley, but the State of Jefferson, a collection of rural counties in Southern Oregon and Northern California where folks don't necessarily cotton to the mostly urban dwellers who govern both states. Hence various attempts to form a separate state have been launched, only to fizzle. Statehood probably won't happen, but in the meantime, residents of this mythical state cherish the flora and fauna that define the region. 

Elk hoof prints are large and distinctive, and
surprising to find on the beach.

PK and I hear the local forecasts on NPR each morning, which include most of the State of Jefferson. Lately, our Rogue Valley forecast has been foggy and cold, while the Northern California coast has been sunny and warm, temps in the high 50s being considered comfy. Let's go there, we said on a recent unacceptable morning during which the sun was not expected to penetrate the low-hanging gloom.  We drove a couple hours to reach our destination, but it's still close enough to call "home." And we were reminded once again why we love where we live.

One of the gold bluffs that give the campground its name. 

PK readies kindling for a campfire at our beach camp in the Redwood National Park.
Our Four-Wheel camper is perfect for such places, where large RVs, or trailers of any type, are not allowed due to the four-mile narrow rutted access road. But what a gift! An oceanfront campsite!

An early January sunset as viewed bundled up in our camp chairs. 

White crowned sparrows hung around awaiting crumbs. They didn't get any.  Multiple messages from national and state parks beg visitors to NOT feed the wildlife anything, even crumbs.

The next morning a minor stream crossing was necessary to reach the Fern Canyon trailhead, one of the Redwood National Park's favorite trails. But the car in the background could have navigated it.

Fern Canyon wasn't up to its usual glory as the bedraggled maidenhairs appeared to have suffered from cold. Or maybe they always die and come back. It's winter! What did we expect?

The redwoods, however,  never fail to inspire awe. We explored several trails winding amidst the ancient giants. 

Sore neck time.

Young redwoods cozy up to a much older tree. In time, their trunks may merge.

On the way home, we meandered along the Redwood Highway to Grants Pass, which follows the Smith River for a time. The Smith's delicate turquoise and breathtakingly clarity thrill me every single time since I first saw the river more than 40 years ago. 

Being alone on the beach is not unusual along coastal areas in the State of Jefferson. We'll be back to take advantage before the hoards descend for the summer tourist season. As daily listeners to weather updates for the N. California coast,  we believe summer visitors may not find summer conditions much different from winter. Year-round, temperatures range from high 40s to lower 60s.
However, we DID get lucky. The annual average January rainfall in this area is 11 inches.

EARLIER POSTS ABOUT GREAT PLACES IN 

THE STATE OF JEFFERSON 

Oregon Coast Getaway with Four-Wheel Camper

Bear Trip on the Rogue River

There You Have - The Mighty Rogue!

Camping and Cooking on the Rogue

Quick Getaway - Crater Lake

Oregon's Illinois River with Four-Wheel Camper

NOTES ABOUT WINTER IN THE FOUR-WHEEL CAMPER

When we first graduated from tent camping to the Four-Wheel Camper, we were old, relatively, in our 60s. We about died of happiness. After decades of erecting our faithful Moss tent in wind and rain, crawling out at night to pee, enduring an occasional rock under a sleeping pad, struggling to read with a headlamp, and waking in the dark with no place to go, our new camper was thrilling.

Get-away on Oregon's Illinois River with Four Wheel Camper

Every now and then PK and I look at each other, nod at our modest, but deluxe-to-us, little camping unit, and, without saying much,  agree. Let's go. Even for one night. It's so easy, after all those years of tent and river camping, to just throw a little food into the Four Wheel camper's refrigerator, fill the propane and water tanks, and hit the road. Someday we hope to do this for months at a time. For now, we must be content with a few days here and there. Most recently, it was to Southern Oregon's Illinois River, a clear rushing stream near (and in) the Kalmiopsis Wilderness. 

Here's what I love about our Four Wheel camper atop our Toyota Tundra: It's light and portable and easily handles narrow and awkward backroads full of potholes and rocks. It has a sink, running water, a refrigerator, a queen-sized bed, a CD/radio/iPod player, a heater, a two-burner propane stove, and battery powered electricity. Lights! Heat! What luxury! We can camp in unofficial campsites such as this. Not a single vehicle passed by because, well, the road sucks. We were a stone's throw from the turquoise splendor of the Illinois River. This spot is about 90 minutes from home. In case you're wondering about the obvious, we carry a portable toilet inside the camper, but use it only for number one. For the other, we have a shovel and good knees.

The Illinois River Falls. I recently learned that son Quinn came here often as a high school student, navigating a terrible road, to walk over the rough basalt, radiating heat waves, to reach the falls and the amazing swimming hole below. What a great teenage playground. I had no idea. Parents, of course, are often clueless. I grew up in North Dakota. We could not imagine such a wonder within easy striking distance. We did have the Mouse River, though. Aptly named.

This sign greeted us at the entry to one of our old stomping grounds, the road over the Chetco Pass leading to a trail to the beautiful Chetco River deep in the Kalmiopsis Wilderness. The Biscuit Fire in 2002 destroyed 500,000 acres and was the primary reason we haven't been back for so long.

Brush is coming back strong from the 2002 fire, but it doesn't replace

the forest that used to be here. Wait another 100 years or so.

For many years we backpacked to the clear and beautiful Chetco River on Memorial Day weekends, including in 1987 when Chris was not quite one and Quinn was not quite 10. I still can't believe we packed a baby in diapers into the wilderness! Rattlesnakes abounded and all Chris wanted to do was eat rocks and throw himself into the river. (This part has not changed.) It wasn't that much fun, to tell the truth. But on this day we went no further on the road to Chetco Pass, but instead hiked a short trail to the Illinois River Falls. 

Creek crossing on one of many short hikes along the Illinois River.

Parking lot at the trailhead to the Illinois River Falls.

The Illinois River rages big time during the winter but in late June 2013, swimming holes are placid and inviting.

Forty (!!!!) years ago friend Grace and I spent four or five days camping on this beach on the Illinois River as I was handling a major transition (build up to divorce) and she was building up to her own tumult. Then, this spot was a mining claim. Today it is hiking destination for an official trail. No more mining claim, and still a gorgeous swimming hole. When Grace and I camped here, we tried to oust a thick rattlesnake by dropping a boulder from a tree (which I somehow climbed with the rock) The boulder missed the snake. The snake looked bored. Amused, maybe? We moved our operations closer to the river. But then....there were the baby rattlers. 

Rare carnivorous pitcher plants native to the Kalmiopsis. 

There's a lot to be said for getting outta Dodge, even for a day or two. Not that I don't love home and garden and friends and every day ordinary life. But somehow, those get-aways trump just about everything. What's next? A quick trip to the Oregon coast coming soon. Damn, we're lucky to live in Southern Oregon.