The Rocky Mountains stretch from Colorado all the way northwest to Alaska. Some areas, like Aspen and Banff, are meccas for their names, but are essentially part of one contiguous range. Alberta locals know this and have claimed the span north of Glacier and south of Banff. They named the region after their high school prom date, Cindy Kananaskis. (Cannon-AH-skiss) What ever happened to Cindy?
No one can remember much about her except that she is pretty in her prom photo, wearing that green dress the color of scotch pine. Before crashing Prom Queen Banff on our way north, we decided to take a breather in what is technically called the Kananaskis Conservation Area; a region not so flashy, or crowded, but loved by locals and still a fun prom date.
The plan was to bounce around the Alberta Provincial Parks in Kananaskis (of which there are many) over three nights but a landslide brought us down, clogging the artery connecting the parks with huge boulders that were not getting cleared anytime soon. Pulling into the mandatory “Tax You To Death station” which is also called the Kananaskis Conservation Area Pass Station, we paid an entrance fee, in addition to a park fee and a camping fee, Ranger Celeste, playing the role of the tax man, appeared very knowledgable as she collected our loonies and explained our camping options. We had planned on picking out a First-Come-First-Serve (FCFS) but Celeste told us Alberta policy had changed to All Reserved.
While Sheri handed over Canadian play money, Eric used the iPad kiosk to take down a prime lakefront site in the heart of the Kananaskis for an unheard of for Sheric, three nights. We felt like we were purchasing land. The plan was to regroup and repair like locals in a rustic but beautiful no electricity, no water, no sewer site. Not being the captain of the football team, it was the best date we were likely to get.
Cindy greeted us at Interlakes campground and guided us to site 14, the last reservable site open in the campground most popular with the locals because of its picturesque placement on the banks of Lower Lake. Along the way we passed six FCFS sites, half of which were empty, because Ranger Celeste said they did not exist. True to rumor, Interlakes Campground had that Jennifer Anniston girl-next-door good looks and was every bit as beautiful as any supermodel. As we checked out the area and discovered that K Country was mostly empty except for a handful of locals camped out in local gem Interlakes.
Switching from Go-Go to Slo-Mo, we set up the full-blown boondocking camp complete with privvy, power, internet, and heat. It may be a rustic campsite, but rustic is not exactly how we roll. Our prom date Cindy, a real talker, spilled on the best of the local area. Between that list, our screened room repair, pantry organization, and Banff planning, our three day dance card was full.
Like a country girl who had never been to the big city, Cindy’s to-do list turned out to be comically naive. We took the must-do scenic drive up the High Pass to the Highland House to visit a sanctuary where scientists trap, tag and track hummingbird migration patterns. High Pass is the highest paved road in all of Canada. Hummingbirds have been traced to South America. Fun! At 7200 feet, High Pass is a foothill in Colorado. Highland House is cute in the way a 7-11 convenience store is cute. Two hummingbird feeders hung under an eave. A single hummingbird flashed by to prove the point.
Fortunately we put some high priced petrol in Boss, because Cindy’s next pick was Out Of Gas as well as out of charm. A single tired and surly man took a break from stocking shelves to sell us a six-pack of Lucky Lager for happy hour. The star on Cindy’s List was the Visitor Center which was perfect and also perfectly empty. A spacious lounge of oversized leather furniture welcome travelers with WIFI. A movie played in the auditorium. The taxidermy was unreal, and by that we mean, very real. It’s empty because the locals have already been there. Once is enough. We passed on lunch at the golf course patio with views to die for, opting for a tomato and pepperjack with sautéed spinach and garlic sourdough melt with crinkle cut chips with views to live for.
Back at Interlakes, some locals were living out of the back of an older Honda CRV, or playing badminton on a makeshift court scratched into the gravel site, listening to Bollywood Top 40 on the boom box. We broke out our hiking sticks and canvas patch repair kit. Living local is not about chasing shiny objects. The mountain range towered around us. The lake sparkled in front of us. The weather put on a revolving display of clouds, wind, showers, and sun. It began to down on us that we did not need to waste a bunch of time and gas racing to find somebody else’s version of must do.
As if to reward knowledge gained in the perils of chasing shiny objects, the teacher of life lessons sent us Rob and Marge in site 28. Their camp set-up was unique in that it was a 1926 Model T and corresponding tent trailer, built by hand by Rod over a period of 11 years. A local couple out of Calgary who grew up in Waterton Lakes, they of course knew to pick lakeside at Interlakes for their first adventure in the Model T.
We chatted for a while about adventuring, passionate hobbies, and a grizzly bear (Tagged 139) who calls Interlakes Campground her summer home. Rob told us about a secret short hike to a suspension bridge. As we departed in Boss for the ‘Bridge Hike,’ who else but Bear 139 and her cubs were feeding in a patch of dandelions 10 feet away from us on the side of the road. Lesson learned.
