Today was our off day.
It was a very welcome sight; the chance to do nothing and catch up with
ourselves. For me, I took the day
reading and walking around the village of Waterton. We had a delightful breakfast during which we
spoke with a very engaging young woman from Toronto, Erin, and a young
Frenchman named Pierre, who I complimented en francais on his English. He was delighted, as I would have been, to
have his linguistic efforts acknowledged.
After breakfast, I walked down into the village where I
found a pathway along the lakefront.
Very pretty and quiet, except for an occasional boat cruising through
the beautiful blue waters of Lake Waterton with a majestic view of mountains on
either side. After sitting lakeside and
reading, I found Peter and Curt re-hydrating at a pub after their golf game and
we shared lunch together. I went with
the buffalo burger on the premise that there are not a lot of buffalo roaming
the Indiana plain. And by the way, I am
finding that this part of Canada is a delightful place.
But one more thing, our waitress at lunch showed us
photographs from last winter of our restaurant completely covered with snow up
to the roof. Yikes!!! Guess it’s a good thing we came in during the
summer which is, indeed, still is in full bloom. Today was sunny and 80. Perfect.
As has been our trip and the friendships we are making. Thanks to all for making it so.
Commentary by Curt
It was a chilly morning in the mountains but it felt
wonderful. After a great English
breakfast, Curt and Peter were off to the local golf course called Waterton
Lakes, designed by Stanley Thompson, constructed during 1927-28. The course was in excellent condition with
two interesting exceptions. It seems
that the local Elk are in the habit of wandering over the golf course in the
evening and at night. They enjoy walking
on the greens for some reason and during the fall rutting season they seem to
enjoy rutting on the greens. Sadly,
their activities left the greens a bit rough for putting. Peter and I had many
birdie putts destined for the hole knocked off course by Elk ruts, which
explains our scores. The other exception
was the prairie dogs and their abodes.
The greenskeepers work hard, a la Caddy Shack, to keep the little
rascals out of the fairways. Those of us
who occasionally miss the fairway soon find a prairie dog hole to stumble in or
over as one would search for a ball. At one prairie dog hole we found 4 golf
balls that the animal had apparently pushed out of its hole. One ball was a 1960’s vintage Macgregor. We surmised that this particular prairie dog
was a golf ball collector and was simply getting rid of duplicates. Peter and I both played well but the
mountains and vistas of the Canadian Rockies trumped our games.
Commentary by Richard
Red Rock Canyon
Free day. What to
do? Get up and have leisurely breakfast,
a room with a view. I made a few phone
calls and checked on e-mail since we now had phone reception. The world has survived without me just fine
over the past few days so it seemed a waste not to fully absorb this amazing
place. I decided I wanted to do a
relaxed solo ride with no time table so I could see more of the lake and its
surroundings. The concierge men dressed
in kilts were very helpful and suggested a ride to Red Rock Canyon which was
only about 11 miles one way. The road
was winding and very desolate. Along the
way I saw plains, moraines and mountains, lots of mountains. We are in the Canadian Rockies and they are a
sight. Half way to the canyon I pulled
over and took my first tumble on some gravel and learned about how toe clips
work when falling down. A friendly
Austrian couple driving behind me stopped and asked if I was OK. The wife was driving and wanted to put a
bandage on me but the husband knew I didn’t need it and politely encouraged her
to get along and let me be. So many nice people who travel and love nature.
Once at Red Rock
Canyon, I learned why it’s named that way.
Lots of red rock very similar in color to the rock in Nevada’s Red Rock
Canyon. The star attraction was a
beautiful winding river surrounded by stunning red and blue grey rock carved
smooth by millions of years of water.
Lots of people were here quietly enjoying the beauty of God’s
creation.
Commentary by Peter:
We had agreed to meet after our peregrinations at 4PM in the
Prince of Wales Hotel for High Tea. Well, in this part of Canada, High tea
means HIGH-way Robbery. $39.00 EACH for a cup of tea and a 3 tiered plate of
scones and pastries! We can’t even
benefit from the exchange rate anymore – they are offering us 90 cents for each
American dollar. The revenge of the
Canadians – eh? So, in good American
fashion, we retired to the bar. As I looked wistfully at the High Tea Room, I
noted that the patrons were all couples, sipping tea and casting doe eyed looks
into each other’s eyes while daintily nibbling their scones. Maybe a table of
four grizzled guys in hiking shorts would have destroyed the ambience.
The Prince of Wales
Hotel is staffed by fresh faced Canadian twenty somethings all dolled up in
skirts and knee socks. I’m talking about the guys. In kilts. (As are the
girls.) The pattern of the kilts they
wear is Royal Stuart, the tartan of Queen Elizabeth II. She has given the
Prince of Wales Hotel permission to use her colors in honor of their homage to
her uncle, the Prince of Wales, Edward the VI. We also learned that kilt
tradition stipulates you are to wear underwear under your kilt unless in the
presence of royalty. Then, underwear is omitted. Go figure.
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