7/8/15, “The Parting of the Ways”
At sea, MV International, Upper
Waterton Lake
“This is unreal,” I thought to myself for not the first time since I
entered Waterton Lakes National Park. This can’t be real. No, surely it
is just a matte painting. Such natural
beauty could not possibly exist. No, I
have traveled the world, and nowhere else I have been can compare to this, not
Alaska, not Antarctica, not Glacier.
This simply cannot be real.
However, in the context of this trip, if Grand Teton NP was just the
appetizer, this is but the sorbet that is cleansing my pallet before I continue
on to the Canadian Rocky Mountains Parks tomorrow.
Today will be, by far the most exhausting day
of the trip, and I have at least seven hours left before I get to my hotel in
Edmonton, most of which will be on the road.
I am starving and tired and not looking forward to that drive, but this
makes it all worthwhile. It was after
midnight by the time I got back to the room last night, which meant I got less
than four hours of sleep. We hurried to
get to the airport, and it was time for The Parting of the Ways. We said our goodbye and thanked each other
for our respective contributions to the trip.
I wanted to publish my photos from the airport, but I was tight on time,
and it took way too long for me to get the photos ready. I figured I would publish after lunch. My plan was to drive up I-15 to the border,
go to Waterton Lakes NP, take the boat to Goat Haunt, go back, go to
Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump, and make my way up to Edmonton. I would also stop at Lethbridge to exchange
the car. With any luck, I would be at my
hotel in Edmonton before 10 PM.
Needless
to say, things did not go according to plan.
I called several audibles, and it all turned out for the best. Unfortunately, I will not be at my hotel in
Edmonton until close to 1 AM, but that’s nothing for me (cf. Budapest). I figured the border crossing would take me
about an hour. I could be at Waterton
Lakes NP at 11:30 AM, spend about 3:30, including the boat to Goat Haunt and
back, and get to HSIBJ by 4:30 PM. I
would later learn that that would not have been a viable option, but I did not
know that at the time. I lit up my
Davidoff Nic Toro, which I always save for my first big drive of the trip, and
this would serve as that purpose. I
stopped for food and coffee and gas and got back on the highway. I suppose this was around 7 AM, after I
finished circling the lower part of the Glacier NP. The speed limit was 70 mph, and I was at 84
mph as I took a sip of coffee. There was
a cop car coming in the opposite direction.
He put his lights on and did a U-turn.
Fuck. I had a feeling he’d let me
off with just warning, and I was right.
He just wanted to run my information, no formal citation. I was back on the road in ten minutes. My next cigar was a My Father I had been
carrying around with me at all times since I left New York. It was quite beat up.
When I got to the border, it was the same as
usual. They asked all the usual
questions and searched my belongings. I
was afraid I might have been over the tobacco limit, but I was fine. An hour later, they let me go, but my
schedule was shot at that point. I found
the “Welcome to Alberta” sign and was glad to have cell service again, so I
spent too much time on my status updates and notifications. I then headed up the road to the information
center, where I got a map and Wi-Fi and replanned my day. Swapping Waterton and HSIBJ would only add
thirty minutes to the trip, and it meant I’d be guaranteed to see both
sites. I stopped at McDonald’s en route,
and I was shocked with how much nicer it was than the American ones, and they
even had interesting Canadian specialties.
I opted for the chicken, bacon, onion sandwich, on an onion roll.
It was not long before I was at
Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump. If my
reader does not know what a Buffalo Jump is, it’s a place where the Native
Americans used to (or maybe still do at some spots) chase buffalo off of a
cliff, where they would fall to their deaths.
That was there form of hunting.
When I got there, I quickly found the Plaque and made my way upstairs to
the overlook. I lit up a Partagas and
knew that there was no way I would need to spend the full cigar there, but I
could not bring the lit cigar through the VC back to the car. It was a short walk to the overlook, and I
walked back to the entrance to the overlook, posting my pictures as I let my
cigar go out. I relit it as soon as I
was back outside downstairs.
I headed
back to the car and got on my way again.
As my reader will recall, we had serious issues with the fuel gauge, and
we have just been refueling every 200 miles, which should get us 7-8 gallons
each time, but it has been less for some fills.
According to my calculations, we were really only working with a
200-mile fuel range. I had gone about
180 since my last fill when I left HSIBJ.
The nearest gas station was about 30 miles. I was quite nervous. Well, that gas station was closed. Fuck.
Another 10 miles to the next gas station. I wasn’t sure I’d make it. I did, and I also got another 5 gallons in a
container, which I put in the trunk.
It
was half an hour from there to Waterton Lakes NP. I was absolutely floored by the views when I
arrived, but I did not want to do any sightseeing until I knew the boat
schedule. I headed straight to the VC,
and I had two questions. One, where was
the World Heritage Site Plaque and did Goat Haunt also have one. Two, what was the boat schedule. He asked me if I was on a scavenger
hunt. I said that I was. He had an answer for me. Well, we are about to dock, so I’ll have to
close on that cliffhanger.
Goat Haunt, Montana (Glacier National Park)
Well, it looks like I’m back in the United States, but not really,
since I haven’t had to clear border control, nor will I on the way back to
Alberta. There is a US CBP Officer about
20 feet away from me, but you only have to report to him if you want to go
hiking. If you just want to see the
Ranger Station, you don’t even need ID.
Alright, so the ranger at the Waterton Lakes VC. He told me that, prior to yesterday, no one
had ever asked him about the Plaque. I
was the fourth person to ask him about it in the past 24 hours. Oh, Amanda, you beautiful girl. At her behest, three people had called
Waterton about the Plaque. I admitted that
the other calls were all on my behalf.
He told me where to get the boat, the plaque, and the souvenirs, all in
the same general vicinity. The boats
were every three hours, with departures at 1 PM and 4 PM. That is why it worked this way but would not
have worked the other way. I drove down
to the marina, got my boat ticket and pin and enjoyed the scenic views before
looking for the Plaque. It was nowhere
to be found. Hmm, we’re about to get
back on the boat, so I’ll have to close again on that cliffhanger.
At sea, MV International,
Upper Waterton Lake
Eventually I did find the Plaque in a little exhibit area along the
lake, exactly where Amanda had said it would be. Unlike the other Canadian Plaques I have
seen, there was no wondrous vista behind the plaque. However, all you had to do to see the unreal
vista was walk about five feet outside.
I took a bunch of ceremonial pictures, and then I noticed
something. Reader, Canadian and US WHS
Plaques are quite different. They have
different standard verbiage. The
Canadian Plaques reference the unique features of the site, whereas the US
Plaques speak more to the general nature of the WHS program, the only
site-specific language being the name of the site and the date/year
inscribed.
This Plaque had the US
version of the verbiage, in both English and French, and it did not reference
the specific features of the Park, just referring to “WATERTON-GLACIER
INTERNATIONAL PEACE PARK.” Reader, in
other words, this was a standard US Plauqe.
The only difference being the difference in size, necessitated by including
the French. What did this mean? It meant that I had found the Plaque. This was it.
They had only made one Plaque for the entire Park, and I had found
it. I asked someone to take my picture,
and I got the Official non-selfie Plaque pictures. That didn’t stop me from going to Goat Haunt
in the off chance they might have a Plaque there, too.
I went to the boat and, once my I put my jaw
back in its proper place from the wondrous views, proceeded to write the first
part of the entry. There is little I can
say about the boat ride, the beauty of the pictures speaking for
themselves. We were soon at Goat Haunt,
where they had a nice exhibit and restrooms.
I checked the exhibit for the Plaque, no Plaque. I checked by the restrooms, no Plaque. I then walked towards the ranger
station. No stamp, no Plaque, nothing
besides more amazing views. I sat down
and proceeded to write this entry. I got
back on the boat and saw two park rangers sitting there, an NPS ranger and a
Parks Canada ranger. I asked them about
the Plaque. The boat was about to
leave. What was I going to do if they
said it was back at the ranger station?
Run for it? Take the next boat in
three hours and get to my hotel in Edmonton at 4 AM?
Neither of them had seen one here. The NPS ranger said it was in Logan. No, that was the International Biosphere
Reserve plaque. Oh, well. The one at Waterton was the only one it
certainly seemed, and, with the US verbiage, I counted it. I sat down and proceeded to write this entry
as soon as were at sea, which I will now close in the off chance of catching a
nap. Alright, so, funny story that I
forgot to include last night. I had
announced “Mainland US Complete” at Logan, signifying I had been to every WHS
in the lower 48 states. As we were walking
to the car, the veteran told us that they just added a new WHS in the US, the
San Antonio Missions, including the Alamo.
My mother and I both started cracking up. It was not Mainland US Complete. We had been so disconnected from the rest of
the world that we hadn’t really checked the news. Of course, this was the time of the year when
they have the Convention and inscribe new sites. I guess we’ll have to go to San Antonio next
year, once they got their plaque there.
Edmonton, Alberta
For the amount of time I will be spending here, my hotel room is way
too big. It’s practically a palace. I just needed a bed, an outlet, and
Wi-Fi. In my earlier entries today, I
wrote about how Waterton was the most dramatically beautiful place I had ever
seen in my travels. It is only fitting
that I saw it during the most brutal day of all my travelling. I have now been awake for over 22 hours, half
of which I spent behind the wheel of a car, without getting a wink of sleep
since I left Kalispell, and I only got 4 hours of sleep last night. Not even Maine last summer or Budapest 2013
can compare. Even my 16 hour drive from
this very city two years ago this week was less brutal. With no naps and starting behind the eight
ball on short sleep, I am exhausted, so I will write as quickly as I can. It has now been 9 hours since I closed on the
boat, and really nothing has happened other than a quick dinner and an
adventurous short hike. Whenever I
travel with my mother, it’s always a quest, a quest for plaques or stamps or
souvenirs or chimpanzees or something.
It is how we have travelled together for 16 years.
When I travel alone, it’s always an
adventure. Trying to cram so much in to
so short time leads to those types of adventures, such as I had today. It is fitting that the last great summer road
trip adventure should contain both.
After the parting of the ways, I am now free to do my own crazy
schedules, and that is exactly what I’m doing for the Canadian portion. Okay, after I got off the boat, I went to a
chic hot dog place for dinner, which delicious, but not as quick as I
hoped. I lit up my Montecristo No. 2 and
walked along the lake, taking ceremonial pictures. I then went back to the car and headed to the
VC. There was a nearby trail, so I decided
I would finish my cigar on the trail.
There was a bear warning on the trailhead. The tour guide from the boat had joked that
bears hate ABBA music, so we should sing to ward them off. That’s what I did, singing “Our Last
Summer.” I went up a bit, took some
ceremonial pictures, and then headed down.
As I was walking down, I took a nasty fall, twisting my ankle, the same
foot I injured a year ago today, scraping my hand, badly cutting my knee and my
suit pants. Between the blood and the
McFlurry, it is safe to say the suit is practically ruined. Right, the McFlurry.
I drove pretty much straight through, only
stopping to gas up and get food, McDonald’s.
The McFlurry would later leak all over my suit. I will not recall the frantic quest for open
gas stations and restuarants at 11 PM and midnight in Bumblefuck, Alberta, but
I’m sure my reader can imagine. It was
getting bad, and I was having trouble staying awake. My driving was suffering, but there was no
place to pull over safely. Each time I got
food or gas, I tried to rest my eyes, but I was unable to nap. However, walking around energized me. Before long, I arrived at my hotel and
checked in, only to find it was a huge suite, far larger than I needed. I went to the living room, where I proceeded
to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can crash and prepare for
another brutal day of driving ahead of me.
Hopefully I can get 5 hours of sleep, but it’s doubtful. I need to be at the Banff VC by 7 PM, and
there is almost 8 hours of driving, an hour for gas and food, an hour to walk
around in Jasper. In other words, I need
to be out of here at 9 AM, at the latest, which means I need to be up by 8 AM,
at the latest. It is now 2:30 AM.
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