Stanley Falls

June 1st

Woke up to gaze at those stupifying glaciers across from us. Mark feeling queasy from nasal night drips and possibly from sauteed veggies last night at the Centre's cafeteria, that may not have set right with him. Happens often with him, this nausea, in varying degrees of discomfort, it seems.

 

 

We set-off for one of his favorite hikes and views of Stanley Falls, not too far from the Centre. It is an unmarked (or, that is, the small, rectangular sign if behind a spindly tree) trail, with a tiny pull-out. Mark was told by a ranger on his trip 2 years ago, that it is not a publicized trail, because then the National Park Service would have to install railings on the rocks that overlook  powerful, winding succession of falls, which would spoil it's aesthetic and awesome presence, AND probably be very costly to produce.

 

 

Tripod and camera slung over his good right shoulder (he has a torn rotator cuff and tendon in the left, diagnosed last week, via a MRI, and needs upcoming surgery---possibly in the fall), each time Mark stopped at each ledge to photograph the spectacular and colorful roaring slot canyoned falls, I would loop my finger through one of his jean belt loops. My intention, if needed, was to fall backwards with my full body weight, pulling him back safely on top of me.

 

It's how a foursome of us women were taught to do, when rafting the Moyie River, a couple years ago, if we needed to pull someone out of the water. The couple met at the Centre, dining last night, Carol and Mike, were hiking this trail they dubbed the "Mark and Mona Hike," since Mark turned them on to it. I think it will be one of their highlights on their 3 month journey, since Carol occasionally doted on Mike, reminding him about his vertigo, when he dared to get closer to the ledges to take pictures. Seeing me looped onto Mark's belt, Carol said now we'd both go over. They left earlier on, before getting to the top of the falls. It was lovely having that spot to ourselves, sitting on step-like flat rocks that some free and creative soul blessed with a small cairn, that was topped with the tiniest, horizontal and flat pebble. Sweet.

Hiked down, christened my new, light titanium walking sticks from Mark, which help save my knees. Weather was blue skies and rarely a cloud in sight, warm, with no need for fleeces. We then lunched in the motorhome, at Athabasca Falls, before taking the walk around the different aspects of these magnificent falls, where 3 rivers merge to race down, one being the Athabasca River. Heavy mist was thrown over bodies at one view-point, and then we went down between a beautiful canyon that escaped the falling rivers, at some point in time, to stay dry and above.

 

Then to the town of Jasper, with many young and older folk like us, many on their phones and focused on newly acquired internet from the wifi at the visitors center. Didn't work on my I-pad, however, which was frustrating, and created a little anxiety within, being out of touch with Max and Lucy, primarily. I was able to call Max, leave Luce a voicemail, using Mark's Canadian plan, before we got here, to Snaring campground, about 15 minutes east of Jasper.

It is a quiet, cozy, few sited place, versus the more well-known and mapped campgrounds nearer Jasper, with one having over 500 campsites---yuck. Mark found this place his last trip, right on a river (will find out its name tomorrow), with about 20 sites, and nicely spaced. We will stay at least a couple nights here, which will also add to our breaking even with purchasing a year's pass for Canada's National Parks, since we'll, most likely, stay in one or two on our way back south in August.

The wind is blowing strongly, but does not feel fierce, with small trees on both the long sides of "M," the motorhome. I encouraged Mark to bed early, so he didn't have to stay up later, feeling lousy. I am enjoying the gentle light, writing, reading; took a stroll around the camp, and will read more of this witty, fun Farley Mowat book, The Boat Who Wouldn't Float.

A good third day.