I suppose this is the beginning of our trip home. I must confess that this trip was far more arduous than expected. Yes, we had to arise early but I rarely sleep until 7 AM and there was nothing preventing retiring early. Once on the train we were not confined to our seats and we could walk the length of the car at any time plus there was a small outside area at one end of the car referred to as the vestibule which was a place to get fresh air and take photos without glass between the camera and the subject. Apparently, this regimen is tiring perhaps fatiguing is the better word.
Departure from Jasper was not quite as early as some but it was still an early alarm.During the previous evening’s check-in we were advised to be in the hotel lobby for pickup at 6:30 AM and to bring our luggage with us. Sometime shortly before 6:00 AM there was a knock to the door and a young man who looked like he might be a hotel employee and a lapel pin carrying the name “Cameron” . He offered to take our luggage down for us. This was a surprise to us but we promised we could have the luggage ready for him in a few minutes and he agreed he would return. He did and the luggage started its journey, by truck.
We easily made our lobby appearance and were on board the motor coach immediately thereafter. We traveled the two blocks to the railway station along with what looked like a dozen other busses arriving from different directions. This train was much longer than the first one. There appeared to be six or so Goldleaf dome cars and at least as many Silverleaf cars, several power cars and a number of crew cars. Our car was near the end of the train and there were three more cars following that were unoccupied.
This morning we were fortunate enough for Mt Robson to let us see her with her hat off. This is not usual but welcome to all photographers on the coach. It was cloud covered when we saw it on arrival a few days ago. As we passed through the mountains we saw Moose Lake, the genesis of the Fraser River but it would not be until we arrived at Lytton that we would see the Fraser again.
We followed the North Thompson and then the South Thompson, eventually just the Thompson until it joined the Fraser in Lytton. Because of the terrain through which these two rivers passed, the Thompson is clear and blue while the Fraser is muddy and brown at the confluence. Eventually the river takes on the colour of the Fraser for the remainder of its journey to the Pacific.
The Fraser often seems like a sleepy old river until you realize that it has carved deep canyons into the earth. Suddenly it becomes narrow and rock filled rapids dominate. One of the most spectacular areas is referred to as Hells Gate. It was almost the death of the wish for a trans continental railway. Now it is a tourist attraction complete with a gondola traveling high over the river. The canyon is so deep that it is almost impossible to see all of Hells Gate Canyon from the train.
The air was rather smoky between Hope and Chilliwack because of several forest fires still burning in the area. There was very little natural scenery from Chilliwack through to the Railway Station in Vancouver. Vancouver’s urban sprawl has reached out and enveloped most of the Fraser Valley.
We arrived near the Port Mann Bridge easily but from there on it was a 15 to 30 kph trek that seemed as if it would never end. and then it did. The arrival crew waved us into and passed the station. We had to back into our siding.
After stepping down from the train we raised the ire of a parking lot marshal by cutting across an empty but apparently dangerous parking lot. We agreed to disagree on my changing my route and he finally gave up and escorted us across the dangerous section. We arrived at the car, loaded our luggage and drove out of the parking lot. One taxi and my car was the total traffic. I’m sure it became busier but we didn’t wait.
Saturday, today, is our last day in Vancouver and we begin our driving trip back to Burlington tomorrow. There may be another post or two during the return trip, but daily reports are unlikely.
Paul Theroux, The Tao of Travel: Enlightenments from Lives on the Road
The wish to travel seems to me characteristically human: the desire to move, to satisfy your curiosity or ease your fears, to change the circumstances of your life, to be a stranger, to make a friend, to experience an exotic landscape, to risk the unknown.