Jasper - Part 3: Tourism

I had been considering trying to get to Miette Hotsprings, but when I telephoned them in the morning of the following day, all I got was a recorded message saying that due to excessive rainfall, the temperature of the pools was no longer hot enough, so they would be closed until further notice. My plan B was to go and see the lakes of Maligne River: Medicine Lake and Maligne Lake. Since the distances involved in my goals were not walkable, I decided to try my hand at hitchhiking, and around 11am went to stand on the road outside the Maligne Hostel, playing my accordion as I waited. 


I was picked up after a very short time by a couple of Belgian ladies who asked if I didn't mind that they would be driving very slowly in the hope of seeing wildlife alongside the road. I didn't mind at all. So we joined the tourist train of cars driving along the road and helped contribute to the traffic jams that occur whenever a bear, deer or mouflon (bighorn sheep) is spotted alongside the road. Such wildlife-spotting traffic jams occur regularly in places like Whistler and Jasper, and probably everywhere that tourists and wildlife share space. A side-attraction is seeing the various risks taken by those tourists who seem to be oblivious to the fact that even one of the smaller black bears could render them lifeless - or at least do some serious damage - with a swipe of the paw. It is amazing how much psychological protection is afforded by the roadside crash barrier. For the most part, black bears will continue grazing and ignore the tourists and their cameras, but you can never know how close is too close until it is too late. And what constitutes "too close" is always dictated by the bear.

"Black" Bear shining brown in the sunshine grazes oblivious to tourists

 We drove on up the road, losing the river somewhere in the forest, and after a while, we came to the first lake.

Medicine Lake has a very curious property: the water level changes considerably based on the outflow through the various tunnels of the canyon. In fact, there is no visible river flowing out of this lake, as all parts of the river go underground  here before emerging at different points in the canyon. For me, the most wonderful aspect of this lake was the profusion of dandelions that abounded along the shore. 

Not quite sure why, but i just love these flowers! Apparently black bears also love dandelions, so it was no surprise that there was a mother and two cubs grazing around the lake. There was the usual crowd of tourists with cameras keeping a sensible distance away.

We continued up the road which wound round the lake then passed between snowy peaks then over a slight rise and down to Maligne Lake.

Maligne lake is the largest natural lake in the Canadian Rockies, and contains Spirit Island, one of the most photographed islands in the world. It is very popular for canoeing and also has a large number of sightseeing pleasure boats on it. This end of the lake seemed very touristy, although peering into the distance, I could just see the majestic mountains at the other end of the lake which are, no doubt, along with Spirit Island, the reasons for the tourism. Although tempted, I did not fork out the money for a boat trip or a canoe rental, but explored the woods along the lake shore on foot, and found a trail through the woods to a smaller quieter lake beside which I sat and played my accordion.

Hitchhiking away from Maligne Lake proved impossible using the traditional method. Despite there being only one road, the only cars who even acknowledged me were those that already seemed to contain more people than seats.

So I resorted to hitching by tongue instead of thumb: waited in the car park, I asked anyone who approached if they happened to be heading down towards Jasper. Although the first few peple I asked had full vehicles, this strategy of vocal connection seemed to humanize me in the eyes of those who may not have picked up a traditionally posted hitchhiker. Then I met an Austrian-Canadian named Steve. At first he was wary, but after finding out that I was British, his trust level increased, and he agreed to take me part way to Jasper - although he was headed East so could not take me into town. Amongst telling me about his life as a furniture maker and cattle farmer on his farm in Alberta, Steve gave a possible explanation of why people in these parts are loathe to pick up hitchhikers: some years ago, a couple were murdered by someone who had hid in the back of their camper van while they were filling up on fuel. This story has nothing whatsoever to do with hitchhiking, except to reinforce the concept of the vehicle as one's personal space into which one should not let anyone who one doesn't trust. It is devastating, then, that stories such as this then somehow lead, by extension, to a general mistrust of hitch-hikers.

Steve told me he was heading to Miette hotsprings on his way home. He said the springs might have warmed up by the time we got there, as it was already late afternoon. It was tempting to accept his offer of a lift up there, but I knew that it was an hour's drive to Miette. Not knowing how I would get back to Jasper and not wanting to hitchhike in the dark or risk missing my train the next day, I decided to forego the offer. I was also anticipating that there might be a chance for a reunion of Sparky and the Troubadours with Leif and Liz at the hostel.

Steve dropped me on the highway just by the entrance to a path known as Bighorn Alley that led back to Jasper. I initially thought it was so-called as the path went alongside the railway and was therefore frequently subjected to the sound of the horns of passing trains. But seeing the sign at the entrance to the trail, I realized that the name refers to the animals.

I walked back into town and didn't see any longhorn, but did see large numbers of what appeared to be logs sticking out of the grass. As I looked around, however, and the logs started to disappear and reappear at random intervals, I realized that these were not logs but ground squirrels, and moreover, I was completely surrounded by hundreds of these creatures!

Ground Squirrels - invisible to the camera in their natural habitat

From Jasper, I was frustrated by not being picked up hitchhiking, but walking all the way back allowed me to see a family of elk crossing the road near the hostel. 

Back at the hostel, there was no sign of the Troubadours, so I busied myself preparing my baggage for the train journey the next day.