The weather thus far had proved to be wet and warm, which made for beautiful sleep… but we we’re in search of the cold, the steep, and the deep. We awoke eager to compare the previous night’s imagination with the reality of our landscape. We were surrounded by jagged peaks, rising up to 3000m, wind-swept with pockets of vivid blue glacial ice. It was like the Colorado Rockies had gone mad—somehow become both more majestic and mean.
We made a quick breakfast; bacon, eggs, a bite of toast, and our new friluftsliv coffee from our friends at Boxcar Coffee back in Boulder which we were eager to try. As we drove up the pass, we were hit with the presence of Hilda Peak, her steep spire resembling a small Matterhorn. We made our way through the forest, a thick scent of pine joining us as we pushed above the tree line. We shared some chocolate on a small spine beneath the peak. And as we skied down we could help but crack a smile, we were on snow again… with two planks and a passion.
The RV was fully fueled. The fridge was fully stocked. And Johnny Cash was singing as we made our way through the Ice Fields Parkway of Jasper National Park. After a morning ski and alpine roam, we figured it was only natural to set up a rugged after ski. Eager to use our new wood-fired oven, we found a vast frozen lake beneath the Canadian Rockies that would serve as our small camp for the afternoon.
We spent hours on the lake guessing around for where the fish would bite. Igor had set us up with hooks for success and we patiently awaited. Not just once we got lured to believe our hooks catching the sea floor to be the largest fish every caught in the lake.
Back in the town of Jasper, JC managed to find a crucial ingredient to our afternoon after-ski: Cinnamon rolls. We quickly started a fire and got our small oven going. Unsure of the potential heat of our oven, we watched the temperature closely. Not a minute after we had placed the buns in the oven the temperature began to rise to 500°… our buns were done in no time. A sip of coffee and one last bite of the bun and it was time to hit the road if we we’re going to make it to Lake Louise and eventually to Rogers Pass.