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we 6·17·04- 8:42a- Hostelling International- Lake Louise, Alberta Canada, the World- This morning Chris & I woke up to a pair of naked, disgruntled roomates who we had yet to meet. They seemed like nice guys though, judging from what little we saw of them. Yesterday we began an adventure to visit my best friend Sean (Chris's brother) and deliver him a minivan. Sean had recently been through convocation (graduation) from Bishop's University in Lennoxville, Quebec, where he got a degree in Theatre. He was involved in many plays throughout his enrollemnt & was currently doing Half a Sixpence, which would be running through June. For the remainder of the Summer, Sean and four of his friends would be leading a theatre workshop for kids called the Traveling Wilberries. We were all feeling fairly anxious Sunday night while we haphazardly threw our plans together to create grocery lists, driving routes & itineraries. I left the McCool house at ten o'clock to get some sleep before our excursion, but after packing laid awake for three more hours before I nodded off. When Christof & I finally left my parents' house at 8:30a I was feeling quite out of my element. We made a pit-stop at Chris's house in Bellingham- he had forgotten to pack socks- then continued on to Haggen to do some shopping. Chris drove the first shift which ended up to be six hours with all the pit-stops & border crossings. When we arrived at the border Chris correctly answered all the questions the teen-aged girl behind the glass asked him, but we still had to park & wait inside for them to decide what they were going to do with us. Turns out, it's not allowed to import cars into Canada for someone else to drive home at a later date. After a thorough search of the Toyota we were back on the road. We enjoyed the ever changing scenery- the view of Mt. Baker from the North, the small towns, the green hills, etc. We stopped to get gas in a little road side town and switched drivers. I drove for three hours while Chris slept, stopping at the arches rest area where we pulled out the cameras for the first time and strapped on his mom's Konica 3000mm telephoto lens. Chris took the wheel again and drove 100 miles to the city of Golden where we learned its story from a sign at a roadside pulloff overlooking the town. The Columbia River was the strangest milky green dividing the town length-wise. After the feeling came back in our legs we were ready to hop back in the Sienna for the final stretch to Lake Louise. I took over again, and led us to Banff where we got a bite to eat and enjoyed being totally surrounded by glorious mountain peaks. Chris crawled back to the bench seat to curl up while I continued toward our destination. Upon arrival at Lake Louise we realized how many options we had for a place to stay. Before we left, however, chris had found an emaculate lodge through Hostelling International online. It was late, we were sleepy, and after searching the tourist-populated town we gave up and went into a hotel. First, we walked into a fancy-pants hotel & by the time I had pulled my sweatshirt on, Chris had already started the process of getting us a room. As luck would have it, though, his last deposit hadn't cleared which left our deposit on a room a little shy. Chris made a few phone calls from the lobby & after learning that it wouldn't be straightened out until the next morning, we looked for another place. It was my turn now. As I entered a hotel that looked like it belonged in the French Alps I changed my plan of action a little bit. "Do you know where the Hostelling International Lodge is?" I asked the Woman behind the desk. "Oh yes, it's right across the street & to the right," she replied in a French-Canadian accent. After I alerted Chris of our heinous error of walking right by the place multiple times we agreed that it was much fancier than we anticipated. Only two years old, the three story log cabin was furnished like a restaraunt. In fact, there was a restaraunt inside. While the hostel had the look & feel of a four star hotel, the guy behind the counter brought us back down to earth with his long, red hair & beard; his ankle warmers and short-sleeve shirt over long-sleeve. He gave us a five minute spiel on rules & regulations that, through the repetitiveness of his job, was able to spit out in 30 seconds. He made us key cards, told us the hours of all the local bars, and sent us on our way. After unloading in our room we found ourselves back across the street and inside the first hotel where Chris had tried to get us a room. Heading down the stairs to the bar, we realized that it was kareoke night here. We both sat down at the bar to a really watery, light Kokanee listening to the singing fools making a public spectacle of themselves. After the better part of an hour, we waddled back to our room to get some sleep. continued on next page... |