On the Road to Banff

I’ve only been in the Banff Airporter van for fifteen minutes, but I’ve already heard Alannah Myles, Shania Twain and Rush on the radio. There’s no denying it–I’ve crossed the Rockies.

Truth be told, Ms. Myles’s video for “Black Velvet” did inspire a certain longing in my adolescent heart (and, uh, other body parts). There was something about all that curly hair and black chaps…

I’ve spent precious little time in Alberta. I’ve been to Calgary a couple of times, but I never left the city limits. Which, coincidentally, is what I’m doing right now. The Rockies rise across the western horizon. I’ve seen it many times, but the view of them from seat 18F was awe-inspiring.

Between our van and the Rockies looks to be 20 kilometres of grazing land. It’s only powdered with snow, and the vista reminds me more of Fargo than anything. On one side, there are neat rows of (presumably) hay bails. They form a huge grid of squat cylinders–you sometimes see the same pattern on staplers and condoms.

Oh look. Cows. They look chilly.

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