It was an exercise in letting go, and it reminded me that traveling is more than just checking things off a list – it’s about laughing with strangers, finding new paths, and having a little faith it’ll all be worth it.
–Rachel Amico.
Probably my
worst vice, one that must be very annoying to others, is that I have to tell a
long story to make a point, when all my interlocutor wants is a short answer. I
usually take the long and winding road to arrive at my conclusion. So, here I
go again. Bear with me. Bon courage!
Oscar Wilde
once said that life imitates art. It
seems that we have a tendency to imitate what is presented to us in the movies,
television, internet and the printed press. The influence of the media of mass
communication in the way we think and behave is common knowledge, and has been
the object of many studies. I suppose we do that because we don’t like reality
as it is and we try to change it. The dark side of this drive is that when we can’t
change it, we invent alternative realities, myths and legends, angels and
demons, we believe in them, and live our lives accordingly.
But believing
in television and alternative realities will for sure put us on the path that
leads to disappointment. And that is exactly what happens to me every time I
travel. The day I land, after having crossed the Atlantic Ocean overnight, I
usually arrive in the afternoon, and after checking in the hotel, I go for a
walk around the neighbourhood. At the end of the walk I invariably say:” Wow”.
Like that, without the exclamation mark, meaning that what I just saw was not
what I was expecting, what I had seen in the travel guide books, and TV
documentaries. The following day though, descended from the clouds and with my
feet on the ground, I start exploring the place, mustering some hope that it
will be worthwhile. At the end of my trip I always feel that, somehow, my life
is richer for having been there.
No, real life
is not like in the movies and sitcoms. No place is like in the postcards, with
the exception, dare I say, of one place, the Canadian Rocky Mountains, that is.
On second thoughts, no, they are not. No travel book, documentary or postcard
can do justice to them. They are many
times more impressive, beautiful and magnificent.
We landed in
Calgary, rented a car, and took off to explore the mountains, from Canmore to
Hinton, with Banff, Lake Louise, and Jasper in between. And every place we visited: Johnston Canyon,
Lake Louise, Lake Minnewanka, Moraine Lake, Mount Norquay, Stuart Canyon,
Sulphur Mountain, Vermillion Lakes, Waterfowl Lake, Bow Lake, Peyto Lake,
Parker Ridge, Athabasca Glacier, Howse Pass, Mistaya Canyon, Sunwapta Falls,
Athabasca Falls, Whistler Mountain, Piramid Mountain, Piramid Lake, Maligne
Canyon, Medicine Lake, and (which brings us to the title of this story),
Maligne Lake: elicited from us an endless string of “Wows!!” Yes, this time
with the exclamation mark; actually two.
When I tell
everybody I know, that I am going to travel somewhere, they always say: “Have a
nice trip, enjoy, and take many pictures”.
My friend Réal didn’t. He said: “Je te souhaite des belles rencontres”.
And I thought that was the most beautiful farewell wish I had ever
received: “I wish you to meet beautiful
people”.
For two weeks,
mountains, lakes, rivers, water falls, canyons, hiking trails, elks, marmots,
chipmunks, mountain goats, long-horned sheep, bears, and many kinds of birds,
were part of our daily life. And as if Réal’s words had been prophetic, we also
met beautiful people on the road.
Like the little
baby girl from Montreal, at the Indian Restaurant in Jasper, who constantly
waved and smiled at me, and then said good-bye, when she and her parents left
the restaurant.
The young boy,
about 13 years old, who was hiking Maligne Canyon alone; I was worried about
him; I approached him and asked him where his family was, and why was he hiking
alone; he told me not to worry, that his parents allowed him to hike by
himself, that they were waiting for him at the parking lot. Several times
during the hike I bumped into him, and I would ask him: “Is everything OK?”
“Don’t worry sir, I am fine”, was always his answer; “Be careful” I would
usually say, as I hiked along.
At Whistler
Mountain we met Mike, a 68 year old gentleman from Glasgow, Scotland. He was
doing a trip around the world in 60 days, all by himself. He had just come from
New Zealand, and soon was going to Machu Pichu, Peru. We talked for a short
while, and before parting, he took a group picture of us.
And,
(finally!) the girl at Maligne Lake. We were walking along one edge of the
lake, when a girl, wearing a rain coat with a hood, because it was raining,
asked us for some information. We gave it to her, and then she walked away in
the opposite direction. She seemed to be hiking alone, and she struck me as too
young to be doing that. I told my friends that if she were my daughter I would
be very worried. We continued on to the other shore of the lake, and, to our
surprise, we came across her again, and again she was walking towards us. This
time she didn’t say anything. But I was intrigued. I asked my friends: “Isn’t
that the girl we just saw on the other side of lake?” “How can she be here?” “Did
she walk over the water?” “Did she fly over the lake?” “Does she have magical
powers?” And we all laughed. One week later, while we were at the summit of
Sulphur Mountain, I saw a girl, who looked like her, although this time she was
not wearing the hood, and had her hair down. I told my friends. They said she
didn’t look like the girl at Maligne Lake to them. But I approached her and
asked her: “Were you at Maligne Lake, Wednesday last week?” And yes, it was she; and she remembered us.
Then she told us a little bit about herself. Her name is Rachel; she had been
driving all the way from her hometown, Chicago, Illinois, alone, exploring some
American and Canadian National Parks. She was starting medical school in
September, and decided to take a month long trip before the semester started. I
told her what I thought, and what we said about her at Maligne Lake, and she
had a good laugh. She said her mother is like me, that she worries a lot, that
she has to call her everyday to reassure her: “I am fine mom, everything is
going well; I haven’t been eaten by the bears yet.” I asked her whether she
wasn’t worried about traveling alone, being a young and beautiful girl. She
said no; that all the people visiting the Rockies were good people, that
somebody who loves nature cannot be a bad person. We took pictures of one
another, and before saying good-by I wished her a long, happy life, and a
successful medical career. I wanted to ask her if she would like to stay in
touch, whether she would give us her email address. But I didn’t. I thought she
would be freaked out about giving her email address to three guys she had just
met.
Before, when the
opportunity to travel alone presented itself, I was usually discouraged by the
prospect, and cringed at the idea, because I have traveled alone twice before,
and I had my moments of feeling lonely. But now, when that happens, I think
about Mike from Glasgow, and Rachel from Chicago (or should I say from Maligne
Lake?), and I instantly feel a current of air beneath my wings, and a tail wind behind my
sails. I get inspired.
© William Almonte Jiménez, 2018
