Grasslands National Park , Spectacular

We got plenty of questioning looks when we said we were going to tour Southern Alberta and Saskatchewan for our holidays this year. I had Grasslands National Park as my main destination but almost missed it as there were so many distractions to see along the way. As it was, we only got to see the west block of the park so will have to go back for a second look.
Distances are vast in these provinces. The prairie stretches on and on and on; always another rise, coulee, more grass and sky. I have to think of our ancestor settlers who came by oxen drawn Red River Carts. These rough and durable boxes on wooden wheels move at about 2 miles per hour on flat ground. Every coulee, hill, creek or river added additional time to getting anywhere. A man on a horse might travel 4 to 5 miles per hour so what we may travel in our car in one hour would take up to 3 days for them to cover. I look over the landscape and see cart jarring rocks and gopher holes to fall into and unreachable horizons stretching on into a distant bluish haze. Progress would have been marked by the passing of a distant rock or the ascent of the next ridge line. This land seems flat but it is not. It undulates and flows for miles, through drainage coulees and draws, small knolls and natural dips and swales. On any rise you overlook long miles over seemingly deserted land.
This prairie is treeless except for shelter belts that were planted by settlers trying to minimize the wind while collecting drifting snow. There are places where there is not a single tree for as far as you can see. I saw one tree that chose the road side ditch to live and it had been preserved. It was the only woody specimen in this area. It looked very bedraggled by few branches sticking out the east facing bole, but stood proudly, doing its part to provide shelter and a roost for hunting hawks. The seed for this tree must have been dropped off on a flyover dropping from a passing bird.
It is agricultural land, for the most part, these days. Some of this land is now cropped and the land that is too marginal or rocky is pastured. There are many sections of hard grass land that feed very healthy herds of cattle. It requires many more acres of ground to feed a cow here than it does on tame grass pasture but this hard, prairie grass is very nutritious.
The cropped land, this year anyway, has had too much rain throughout southern Saskatchewan so many crops are later than usual. Farmers are going to be under tremendous stress before their grains are all stored safely in the bins.

Abandoned Prairie Homestead

As we drive, I wonder at the stories that the walls of the abandoned farmhouses and homesteads could tell. There are many beautiful looking old homes that are no longer used. Many of them are situated on a slight rise with tremendous views of surrounding landscape. The beauty of the land grew upon these settlers as it does on me.  Ever-changing skies, spectacular thunderstorms, big, brightly lit night skies, sunrises and sunsets along with the play of mid day light across the visible miles draw us in. Did the optimistic builders sell out to larger farmers, go broke or frustrated and give up or pass away with no interested heirs? We are losing these stories as the older generations pass away.
I remember running some of this equipment and trucks that the prairie is slowly reclaiming. Wind, moisture, insects, time and neglect assist the prairie's reclamation efforts. I have to think back to when the farmer drove his brand new, to him, 1949 Chevrolet truck into the yard and filled it with grain harvested from the once mighty Massey Harris 92 combine.

Chevy 2 Ton Grain Truck Massey 92 in Background

Old churches and cemeteries mark the last plots of ground the pioneers will use. They are well maintained by future inhabitants and some of the stones give us some ideas about where they came from as well as their passions. We also noted school district signs marking where schools once stood. Many were one room schools with a pair of toilets set back in the yard and some even had hitching rails for the horses that carried students to their studies.
Once thriving, vital small towns show signs of dying a slow death due to neglect.  Potholed and cracked streets lead to boarded up stores and businesses and abandoned homes. Hidden infrastructure like water and sewer lines are crumbling and it will not be long before many towns cannot afford to maintain water or sewer treatment plants. There are a few optimistic “for sale” realty signs staked into neglected lawns or nailed onto tumbleweed-lined wooden fences. Prices are reasonable if you could find a way of making a living here. Many of the town schools have been closed or converted to other uses as student numbers dropped and continuous centralization occurs. Even once proud ball diamonds and backstops are no longer used and suffering similar decay due to abandonment. Former vital prairie sentinels, the grain elevators are being torn down and replaced by new power producing wind cyclone sentinels. The prairie is slowly reclaiming the land in its slow and patient manner. "The meek shall inherit the earth," is proven here. Like the wind that never ceases, the grass never stops growing or spreading to cover and protect the precious land.

Windy Wheat

Even amongst obvious neglect there is pride, promise and optimism for the future. Large farms and livestock operations have the most modern equipment and comfort available. Parts of the prairie are dotted by oil and gas wells, pipelines and pump jacks with storage tanks. Other farmers have diversified into raising new crops such as lentils, peas and bison. This always has been a land of change and will continue to evolve and thrive with sturdy people.
We did finally make it to the Grasslands National Park Visitor center in Val Marie, Sask. After getting some hints, directions and advice we headed down the road and across the Texas gates. As the name implies, this is grassland. It is a small fraction of a threatened, unique landscape now protected and preserved for future generations. This park will continue to grow as surrounding land can be purchased from existing landowners.

Plains Bison Bull

In 2005 about 75 Plains Bison were introduced to Grasslands Park from Elk Island National Park. In the spring of 2006 they were set free to roam where buffalo are supposed to roam. In 2013, the herds numbered about 350 members and are doing very well. The bison we saw look very healthy and content. They suit this landscape as expected. Bison are good for the land and the grass. With a combination of grazing, wallows, prairie dogs and fire the park will slowly revert to natural prairie grasslands.

Black Tailed Prairie Dog

We drove into a Black-tailed Prairie Dog (Cynomys ludovicianus) colony too. These critters are known to be keystone species to prairie grasslands. These prairie engineers provide homes to endangered and threatened species such as the burrowing owl, prairie rattlesnakes, Horned lizards, Swift fox and most endangered of all, the Black-footed Ferret. The burrows they create mix soil strata, fertilize with droppings and carcasses, allow rainfall water in and grass seeds to germinate. They provide food for hawks and owls, ferrets as well as coyotes and foxes. This chunky little ground squirrel is very alert and entertaining to watch. They are much larger than the pocket gopher that is also native to this region. One of the highlights, for me, was to see a wild Burrowing Owl. These shy little owls are listed on the endangered list due to habitat loss and chemical spray residues. Today, we spotted 3 of them scattered throughout this prairie dog colony.

Endangered Burrowing Owl

There are many short trails to information placards scattered along the road through the park. These worthwhile informative signs describe many aspects of the terrain, the settlers and wildlife that you may be looking at.
We wandered away from the car to have a look into the Frenchman River valley. Here, we spotted the first Bison in the park. Two solitary bulls were grazing calmly in the river valley, well away from a larger herd of cows and calves. They suit this area very well. These two bulls were in premium condition with prime coats ready for the coming winter. I had to get closer so I wandered down the hill behind a knoll, well hidden and downwind from the grazers. Bison are not supposed to have great eyesight, but they spotted me as soon as I stuck my head above the hill top. We were about 150 yards away so they did not panic and run away. I enjoyed the time I spent with these two icons of the grasslands.

Where the Buffalo Roam

As I gazed around with my binoculars, I spotted three, cud-chewing, mule deer bucks lying on a windswept side hill about 300 yards away. They were a bit downwind but I could stalk them from behind another knoll, which I did. I emerged through some sage wavering in the wind to a point that I could watch them. One of them caught my wind and stood up which caused the others to also stand up and mill about. They could smell me but couldn’t see me so were confused. Five or ten minutes passed before the spooky one lay back down. I backed off behind my hill and wandered back toward my distant car. Even if the land looks lifeless and flat and barren, I learned long ago that you just have to sit down for a few minutes and watch. It never ceases to amaze me what emerges from hidden hidey-holes.
As the day was progressing we thought we would check out a local B&B called the Rosefield Church Guest House. It cost 125.00 per day so we booked one night then headed to Val Marie, about ½ hour away, for groceries and supper. This guesthouse no longer serves breakfast unless by special order. Many of their guests are artists or photographers who typically leave before sunrise, so they miss breakfast. They do provide a fully stocked kitchen so you could provide yourself with any meals you like. We got back in time to watch the sunset in Grassland Park. The light is beautiful here at this hour, not to be missed by any photographer or sky watchers. Grasslands is a dark sky preserve so we got out and watched the Milky Way as best we could with the waxing full moon. Timing and luck must be right for everything. Distant coyote chatter brought to life an otherwise quiet night as I wandered down the gravel road. I am not a very nocturnal creature but do enjoy the night time in any wilderness setting. It is certainly a special time here under the prairie sky.

Golden Sunrise

Dewy Dragonfly

We were up before daylight and on the road in search of a great viewpoint from which to watch the sunrise. Fog rose stealthily from the meandering river and dew sparkled as first chilly, golden rays shone onto hanging spider webs and nestled dragonflies. Once again, walk slowly and see what you are looking at proved to be valuable advice this morning. Beauty is in the details of the grasses at our dew soaked shoes and pant legs, not just in the glorious, wide open landscape.

Spider WebTiara

 

Beauty on the Prairies

We drove across part of the prairie region last week. I will cover several highlights over the next few weeks, so this is a quick look at the region we wandered around in. We put 3500 kilometers on our car over the past week of exploration. 10 times that many will still not cover the land properly.

 I am sure that you can see further on the prairies than you can on the ocean. It is flat, generally, but there are rises, rolls, coulees, river valleys and hills that undulate, like ocean swell and rogue waves. The trees you see are generally planted trees. They are windbreaks for homestead shelter from the predominantly west wind or strips designed to catch snow, thereby preserving moisture. Each tree was ordered from a catalogue sponsored by the government to try to make the prairies and farms more habitable. Caragana, Manitoba maple, black poplar and more made dense habitats for birds, wildlife and humans who all needed and welcomed relief from the ever blowing wind. Without the hand planted trees, there are none. You can drive for miles without seeing a single tree. Sage brush comes as close to woody as you can find for the most part. In some areas berries such as Saskatoons or Chokecherry shrubs grow, especially in coulees or draws where there may be a bit more moisture and shelter from the wind and direct sunlight. More than 70 species of grass are the main ground cover here. Needle and thread grass, fescue, wheat grass and prickly pear cactus grow on the parched land. This land can be 35 degrees or more in summer and more than 40 degrees below in winter. It is a dry heat and dry cold but add wind for a blast furnace summer drying effect and windchill in winter. The prairie is a land of extremes and constant change and challenge. It can deceive you into thinking it might be easy to live here. It can also deceive you into thinking it would be impossible to thrive here. You do not have to drive far to see abandoned farm buildings and machinery, but they are found wherever anyone farms or settles. Evidence of people living on this land dates back almost 10,000 years. We paused at a medicine wheel that has been dated back to times before the Egyptians built the pyramids.

Centre Cairn of the Sundial Hill Medicine Wheel

Teepee rings are found in hundreds of places across the prairie grassland region of North America. We paused at the Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump in Southern Alberta where evidence of human habitation has been found from more than 5000 years ago. This land as we see it today was formed and shaped by a glacier that totally covered most of the central and northern plains and then began receding 12,000 to 10,000 years ago. Large rocks called "erratics" are evidence to the movement of the giant glacier which dropped rocks carried from the Rocky Mountains into Alberta and Saskatchewan.

Glacial Erratic at Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump

These rocks have been used as scratching stones by Bison from herds, numbering by some estimates 60 million strong, that once grazed the land. Bison moved, like the hunters and gatherers who followed them, grazing, fertilising, mating and birthing feeding on the land until being almost completely wiped out in a wasteful blood lust of greed and debauchery. Unlike the passenger pigeon, bison had a few long sighted benefactors who could see what may happen and herded a few hundred survivors to private preserves and then to government protected parks. From less than a thousand surviving bison, we now have a fairly stable number that are being monitored and raised and moved to other regions to re-establish viable, healthy populations. We saw some of the transplanted plains bison in Grasslands National Park that have been moved from Elk Island National Park. They belong here, they suit the country perfectly. They are a wonder to see and we can only imagine what must have been at one time.

The Alberta Birds of Prey Nature Centre was a highlight for me to see. Dedicated people rescue sick and injured wildlife in hopes of healing and returning them to the wild. 

Flight Demo of Harris hawk by Dedicated Rehabilitator

Owls, hawks, eagles and more on on display. Many are too damaged to return to the wild. One bald eagle is blind, a victim of someone with a shotgun, but he is still and eagle; proud, defiant, regal and aware. He watches with glass eyes as you move around him, using heightened senses other than his sight. Free flight demonstrations by a Harris hawk or barn owl show how dependent birds are to food, just like our dogs and cats. I saw my first burrowing owl here and later saw wild ones in Grasslands. Many of these endangered owls will be released in hopes of raising wild numbers to where we no longer have to interfere. We saw Calgary Zoo staff in Grasslands Park here to count black-footed ferrets, another endangered species from this region. The ferret and the burrowing owls both live with their prey, the black tailed prairie dog, another threatened species. All these species along with the tiny Swift fox, Greater Short Horned lizard and prairie rattlesnake are threatened or endangered due to habitat loss, poisoning, over hunting and agricultural practises.

Pronghorn Family

Another aspect of the prairie region I like to explore is the settlement of the land by immigrants from Europe and Asia during the past 100 years. The European exploration and exploitation of the land and its native people and wildlife began 100 years earlier by fur traders and trappers which I have touched on in previous posts. My family ancestors took part in the agricultural settlement of the land in the early 1900s when my maternal great great grand parents arrived at  Bittern Lake, Alberta and in 1927 when my paternal grandfather arrived to take a homestead in the Peace River region.

The prairie region of Canada covers a vast area of varied habitats. Some of these areas are more people friendly than others to thrive in but none were easy.

I like to read and peruse history books that have been written over the past 20 years or so by various historical societies. The family stories are all transferable to any other region. Big families, hard times, weather, drought, floods, fire, pestilence, accidents, church and schools, no money, good or poor crops, cattle and wheat prices were and still are common issues that were dealt with year after year.

I look forward to exploring these places and issues for the next few weeks.

www.wildviewfinders.ca

Stray Sunflowers

Sunflowers

I have been seeing sunflowers popping up in most inhospitable and unexpected places this fall. So far, I spotted them in two spots other than gardens where they were intentionally planted. The first is a dumping area where there is some old refuse from yard cleanup and beside a large man made hill of topsoil that has been stripped from new building sites in Fort Saskatchewan. This hill was transported by large, we used to call them “Turnapoles,” but they are now called “Buggies” or  earthmovers. Several days were spent and many acres of prime farmland were stripped of valuable topsoil to make way for more housing developments, strip malls and paved streets. Somehow in the transfer process a few sunflower seeds were also accidently transplanted. Were they carried over from an old farm yard garden by the earth movers or stored by an industrious Blue Jay with cheeks stuffed full of bird feeder gifts.

Sunflowers at Dump Site

 

The other unusual place is where a wandering seed turned an otherwise ugly industrial site to a spot of beauty  is our local Lafarge Cement plant. Out beside their cement reclaim pile is a mound of dirt crowned by a glorious sunflower perched high above surrounding refuse. Like the rising sun it seems to be redirecting our eye to its beauty rather than the mess that a plastic woven page wire fence is struggling to hide.

Random Sunflower on Waste Heap

 

I will be watching for other unusual sunflower sightings as summer changes to autumn. It seems to me as if these plants are destined to supply beauty to ugly and valuable food to displaced critters whose homes have been torn apart by people in our continuous efforts to pave over beautiful, natural land in the name of progress.
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Rocks and a River for Kids

     “Do you want to go fishing at the park?” was the question from my son last night. 
    “Sure, we will meet you there!” This was my first chance to fish with my grandsons, aged 2 and 3.      Should be interesting was all I could think. The fish will have to be quick if they want to grab one of their hooks. The boys have not been known to sit still for very long and their attention span is quite fleeting. I will have to have the shutter speed set very fast if I want to get a photo of them sitting.
     There were scores of gulls strutting around the grassy knolls at the park. To get the boys interested, I told them how to catch a bird (as was explained to me when I was their age by my grandfather): “Put sugar on their tail and you will catch one!” Today, I have no sugar so I substitute sand. 
     With a bit of sand in each of their little hands, I set them off to the capture of a sea gull. “Go quietly and slowly,” I caution them, to little avail.

Grandpa said you can catch a bird if you put sand on his tail

This activity entertains them for almost one full minute while their Dad gets the $8.00 rods hooked with pink marshmallows and red-and-white bobbers. We dare not tell the boys they were using marshmallows as the pink bait would soon be smeared all over their lips and tongue, probably with hook embedded. It wasn’t long until the bobbers were floating in the pond with a boy at the controlling end. 
     “No fleet fish yet?”  Within 30 seconds the rods are lying on the ground and the boys are chasing and dodging goose patties. Once in a while they are reminded that they were fishing and with a bit of encouragement from Grandma they sit down with their rods.

Are the fish in the water Gramma?

 An Osprey flies overhead but quickly moves on to the next pond knowing he is out competed. Geese paddle by in hopes of a free meal and show but also quickly swim off.
     Distractions are numerous for little fishing boys: hills to climb, ducks swimming, gulls to catch, dogs running, strangers to be introduced to, bugs to observe, distant train whistles, ambulance sirens, flowers to pick, running, summersaults to perform, Grandmas to query, Dads to worry and frustrate Grandpa trying to snap a photo. It is tiring.

     The river is nearby so we wind up the hooks and head down the path toward more adventure. There are nearly ripe, high-bush cranberries and chokecherries to sample along the way. Spitting seeds and sour mush from screwed-up faces entertains grandpa for a minute or two, as dubious-and- protective grandma and father watched this age old game. These free food samples have all been demonstrated to them too, over the years. 
     There is a steep trail down to the river’s edge which all manage to negotiate intact.

Big Splash Grandpa

The rocky beach is soon totally transferred to the river depths. Rocks are tossed, skipped and splashed into the river. Big rocks, tiny rocks and flat rocks are each designed for various techniques of throwing. Not every flat rock is just for skipping; it could be used for distance throwing, gliding out in curved arc to splash down far beyond where an ordinary round rock might land. The boys are learning that rocks have to be the correct shape and heft to fit the curve of throwing finger properly. Perfect rocks should be preserved and treasured when found and I am sure the boys will get to appreciate them as they mature into rock-throwing aficionados, years from now. It helps to have a mentor or professor of GGMTA (granular geological missile trajectory arts). It also helps immensely to have competition from professional rock tossers as well as boys of equal and lesser abilities. With competitors, it will not be long until technique improves so their rock distances will naturally increase.
     Boys are sure that girls don’t count, as they can’t throw rocks, or so they think. 
     My son will soon be a professor to his boys, as he can toss a good rock almost half-way across the river. Both boys are suitably impressed as I was able to convince them that my rock went all the way across as there was no splash. I can still feel the ache in my shoulder and elbow.  The rock I used for this one-time demonstration was quickly deposited into my pocket as they intently watched for splash-down.

Look Grandpa

     There were certainly a couple of distractions on the river beach. Understandingly, the youngest came over with a giant earthworm to show me, and the eldest boy spent a fair bit of time

climbing the steep sandbank while grasping for willow roots and branches as assistance and for stability. These are hardly distractions but demonstrate a natural affinity to nature and life skills required for future survival. 
     The boys  are both muddy, only partially wet, mosquito bitten, and I am satisfied that their real life education has finally begun. They are both very interested in the subject matter so the future looks promising for all of us. 
     I look forward to the day they catch a fish, somehow! They are not yet ready, nor am I, for the confines of a small boat.

www.wildviewfinders.ca

Bison Rut

Peeping Toms, we weren't but we could have been accused of this crime. We spent a couple of

hours last evening watching a large herd of Plains Bison following their primordial urges of species propagation. 

Plains Bison Cow With Bull

These bison are the direct ancestors of the less than 200 remaining bison left over from herds, estimated at up to 60 million during the mid to end of 1800s. The massive bison herds were slaughtered by white hunters for their valuable hides leaving skinned carcasses to rot. This slaughter was also sanctioned by the American government as a method of removing the main food source for native people, depriving proud tribes of a culture and way of life that had gone on for more than 10,000 years. About 50 years is all it took to destroy massive herds of bison and with them went the passenger pigeon, kit fox, prairie chicken, black footed ferret and more. Some of these critters have been brought back from the verge of extinction by visionary, dedicated people who continue to study and work today for all of our benefits.

200 bison were rescued and sent to Alberta's Elk Island National Park, located just east of Edmonton. North of the Yellowhead highway 16 is home to pure bred Plains Bison while south of the highway Woodland Bison flourish. This fully enclosed park has now sent both breeds of bison to many different regions around the world. Bison are prolific breeders so it doesn't take long to over populate the park and over graze the parkland. Excess bison have been transferred to many states and parks in USA, Saskatchewan and eastern Siberia where they are very successfully re-introducing extirpated populations of bison.

Bison Wallowing

We both watched and felt and heard and smelled the bison rut last night. I tried to come up with some way of describing it with words but there is too much happening at once. Bison are very large animals, larger than any cows or bulls of domestic breeds. They are noisy, powerful, massive and vocal. Odours wafted across the dusty meadow; dusty because of all the wallowing and wrestlling, chasing and retreating. An almost constant grunting, bellowing, coughing, grunting, rattling of short curved horns and black hooves and head smashing of dominate bulls challenging for a sweetheart kept our heads swivelling round and forward. Masculinity and testosterone fuelled competitive bulls vied for tempting feminine wiles. This is a powerful time of year for bison lustily rejuvenating the herd. This evening is raw, real, erotic and wild. It is a demonstration of aggressive, carefree, natural power that will carry on long after dark and into the next day, lasting for about a month or so. 

Crashing Bulls

Afterwards, peace and quiet will settle over the park until Wapiti bugling and moose grunts and then softly bleating deer will take over. Antler crashing will take over from horny head butting. Procreation in the park is rampant from early August through November. 

I hope to get out as voyeuristic witness to all of these Mother Nature local great events.

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Camping With Friends

"It takes a long time to make old friends," the old saying goes and they are rare, for me anyways. I have known Wayne and Naida for more than 50 some years. We have history, so when they called last week to say they would be at Whitehorse Provincial Park located near Cadomin, Alberta, we jumped at the opportunity to join them to make a few more memories. Wayne is a cowboy and was camped in the mountains for a horse back ride. Naida goes with him but she keeps the campfire burning while she relaxes with a good book. They live in a combo horse trailer with small living quarters. It is the perfect outfit for them.

We don't have a trailer or a big enough vehicle to tow one so we decided to pull out the old tent. I had not set it up for about 7 or 8 years so we did check it for damage and parts. All was proclaimed looking good by Wifey. Next a quick trip to Canadian Tire for a pie burner and we also decided to splurge on a foot inflating double sized air mattress, complete with cup holder. Wifey spent Friday packing food, gear clothing enough for an army. We left after work heading west toward Hinton, the turn off spot into the wilderness, where we took the last hotel room available in town. Cheap it wasn't but it was comfortable as thunder and lightning ripped through the country toward our mountainous destination.

Along the way from Sherwood Park to Hinton we spotted a black bear struggling to cross the busy 4 lane highway. I managed to stop and get a few pictures to remind all of us to be wary of wildlife unexpectedly crossing roads. This bear made it but we see evidence on every trip of wildlife that don't.

Wildlife and Vehicles

We arrived at our friends campsite after spotting some Rocky Mountain Sheep Rams sporting tremendous full curl, broomed off horns. These rams were grazing on protected coal mining leases that have been fully or partially rehabilitated. We also managed to spot a "moose, no a pig, no it's a WOLF!" A very large, black timber wolf stood calmly about 50 meters away gazing at us with penetrating amber eyes as if judging our heritage and current intentions. What an immense pleasure that is to me to see.

Timber Wolf

After a hearty greeting from our friends and an exploratory sniff from a skulking camp dog, Wayne impressed upon us that a grizzly bear had been wandering around and through the campsite for the past week or so. The authorities had considered closing this campsite but everything seems to be okay now. There is a trail closed just up the path because of another grizzly dining on a fresh horse carcass.

After a quick lunch we took off for a walk. We just ambled along admiring the spectacular scenery, the profusion of wildflowers and the freshness of the air. After getting back to camp a few hours later Wifey and I decided to set up our tent. With memories of past tent erections that did not go as the instructions stated, a bit of trepidation and dread she followed to my chosen site. There was only one rock embedded firmly into the ground but I thought the new air mattress should cover that okay. It was a choice of a lump or a hole to sleep in. I didn't mention to her the two choices or I would have had to find a backhoe to remove the lump. Surprisingly, the tent went up very well with only a few parts left over. Even the fly almost fit right. The air mattress went pretty well too, after getting the knack and the pump timing figured out. Soon Fay had the bed made, sleeping bag lofting and pillows fluffed, ready for dark. She did notice parts of the tent that I never did. Loops on the inside for hanging clothes as well as stringing a clothesline. Flashlight was found to have a good battery and there was a handy pocket in which to store my bear spray, just in case. After a delicious barbecued steak supper, the cooking aroma of which wafted far and wide throughout grizzly country we sat around telling bear tales, camping stories and reminiscing of the good old days. Darkness slowly settled into the valley so we decided to retire for the night. 

It took a while to get settled, what with the cold zipper touching my naked back unexpectedly, the bear spray canister whacking my head if I moved wrong and me trying to fit my 5'11 frame into an optimistically advertised 6' square nylon tent, I soon dozed off.

My eyes popped open suddenly on high alert. It didn't help as it was pitch black. There was a soft cough just outside of those thin nylon walls. Something was sniffing, something large, it wasn't Wifey. I listened intently, then felt the tent wall move. A large nose pushed that cold nylon against my naked back. Instant attention, I swatted it. That nose seemed pretty heavy. I grabbed the bear spray and sprang to my feet. The tent was not 5'11 tall. It was 4'11, maybe. I somehow found my pants and hopped one footed on the, by now, half inflated air mattress but managed to get them up and belt buckled. I was bent over in a very unnatural position trying to pull my zipper up. I jerked it up right into Bobby's foreskin. By this time I had almost hung myself on Wifey's clothes line, had the safety off the bear spray canister and now Bobby was securely hooked and bleeding. I knew I had it to do but surely didn't want to; I jerked the zipper back down freeing badly wounded and bleeding little Bobby. Through all the bouncing and she said wailing, I had managed to rouse Wifey from a dead sleep so I passed her the bear spray, forgetting to inform her that I had already released the safety. I reached for the tent door zipper and managed to get it caught in itself as well. I got my head out the bottom of the door peering around looking for that offencive nose. Somehow, in passing the baton like bear spray back to me, she, I think, set it off. Now neither of us could see through tear filled eyes or breathe. Wifey was also now trying to get through the same door hole I had already occupied and we did not fit . I was getting pummelled from behind and above as my head was outside getting slobbered on by the lonely camp dog wondering what was going on.

This possible event is a summation of the conversation we enjoyed as we sat around the fire with a glass of wine, full bellies and the love and companionship of old friends. I can see it all happening.

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Sleeping Giant

"It's a sleeping giant!" the road guard told us about the forest fire we had come so far to see. "It is not out  by a long shot. We say we have it under control but there are still lots of hot spots that could spring to life with the right conditions. We will be here for a while yet and hope for a good rain to help out." 

This 7000 Ha. fire that has been burning for the past couple weeks began with a lightening strike. It burned right up to the Icefields Parkway in Banff National Park. It burned up the mountainsides to the tree line in many areas. Park rangers were able to save their own warden station and the hotel at The Crossing. Workers from the hotel complex were evacuated for about 5 hours and had to work in stifling smoke for a few days. All are now okay as long as the giant sleeps.

Smoke and Hot Spots

Wild fires are spectacular sights to see and the blackened mountainsides now seem so barren and dead. It is wrong to think of this natural occurrence as a disaster to the environment. It must be looked upon as rejuvenation, a rebirth of forest, in this case. Wildfires occur on prairie grasslands, shrub brush as we see in California and Australia as well as tundra and forest. They are quite harmful to wildlife such as nesting birds, amphibians and snakes or slow moving creatures like porcupines. Most of these critters would die from lack of oxygen which is consumed by superheated gasses ahead of the fire. Animals that are mobile enough to escape the firestorm must now find new territory to live in. This can be quite stressful for animals like bears who must now rustle over unknown territory for food. 

A Lot of Berries to Put a Bear to Sleep Safely

Wolves must now compete with neighbouring packs who are very territorial. It will not be an easy go for some of the wildlife displaced by this fire.

The Beginning, Not the End

The land itself can be permanently scarred, depending upon how intense the fire was. Rich duff layers and roots can be consumed by ground fires. This may cause erosion to occur during rainstorms as there is nothing for the water to soak into to delay the runoff. Also carried by the torrents would be ash and burned debris into neighbouring streams and rivers. Mother Nature has considered these temporary hardships for the long term benefits of the land.

Fire helps to control pests such as dreaded Pine Beetle who have caused the demise of millions of acres of pine forest across western Canada and U.S.A. Mature and diseased trees will now be converted into usable soil nutrients through ash and their long term decay. Invasive plant species and weeds are brought under control and a new forest begins. Pine cones need fire to pop them open releasing seeds that will create a new and vibrant forest habitat. Sunlight can now penetrate the burned skeletal trees allowing sun needy trees, shrubs, berries and grasses to grow. Soon animals will move in, animals not seen in this area for years. Grazing and browsing deer, moose and and elk begin then predators will follow. For years woodpeckers will enjoy a feast as bugs and insects will do their best to convert the burn scarred trees to dust. New birds will begin to nest in the woodpecker excavations and different birds will begin nesting in new shrubs and grass on the forest floor. 

Plants such as fireweed will flourish attracting insects and bees which will attract more insect feeding birds such as warblers, vireos and flycatchers.

This life generating recovery does not happen as quickly as the firestorm demolition did, but it is all part of a naturally regenerative cycle designed by Mother Nature herself for the long term benefit of all. It happens at Her speed, a blink of Her eye, not ours. It will be fun to watch and document this miracle while I am able.

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