A bit of smugness

I suck at selfies

There are many memorable moments. Sometimes they are huge and life-changing but, more often, they are the small incidents or brief encounters that are unexpected and delightful.

As you know we are having our house renovated. The reno, as most do, has been dragging on. This is through no fault of the contractor or the sub trades who have been working their butts off when they have time and materials at the same moment. We have anticipated stinky painting twice before and have gone off in the van to leave the house to the painter. Because of one thing and another, neither of those times actually resulted in the lacquer being applied to the cabinets inside the house. We had fun in the time away anyhow. This past week painting was, once again, on the schedule. Instead of heading for the hills we decided to stick around and get out of Dodge on lacquer day.

Yesterday was lacquer day. The painter came and told us it would take her about an hour to prepare. We finished our morning beverages, found the national park pass, after a bit of hunting, and headed off to Banff for the day.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been in Banff and, of course, it’s far from the town I knew when I lived there almost 40 years ago. We had been warned to park at the old railway station and walk into town. When we got there we were ready for lunch so we headed to a restaurant we’ve been to a few times and found we were ahead of most of the crowds. By the time we finished, there was a line-up at the door.

Fenland Trail

It was over 30 C so we decided to walk in the shade. New to me, is a pathway along the river from downstream of the bridge to the start of the Fenland Trail. We were going to head for Bow Falls but decided instead to take in the art walk in the other direction on the path. We carried on past the library and decided to walk the Fenland Trail Loop. In all the time I lived there, and all the times I’ve visited, I’ve never walked that loop. We were a little nervous because the sign at the beginning of the trail said that bear encounters were likely. We didn’t have bear spray with us and took a chance, hoping that all the bruins would be sleeping in the heat of the day and that enough people were using the trail that the bears would be elsewhere.

It was an enjoyable walk and I was happy to be in the shade rather than huffing up a mountain in search of great views. On the way back, we noticed there was no line-up at the canoe rental place. We debated about whether or not to rent a canoe and then, following my new ‘senior’s’ directions I asked myself, “If not now when?” We rented a canoe for an hour.

The canoes were fairly nice ones with no nods at all to the fact that they would be paddled mostly by people who understood little about how to get a canoe to do what you want it to. I’m not knocking those who want to have some fun by being on the water and who have little or no experience in canoes. That’s primarily why canoe rental places in tourist spots exist.

We filled out the waivers and R left his drivers’ license as collateral for the canoe. We got fitted with life jackets and then one of the guys working there handed us each a paddle. I asked for a shorter one; R asked for a longer one. I was in luck; R wasn’t. Paddles in hand we made our way down to the dock.

I didn’t realize that the most difficult part of the whole experience was going to be actually getting into the canoe. The canoes had moulded seats and it was a very long way down! I had my paddle across the thwarts and ended up kind of flopping into the canoe, without disturbing the balance of the craft. I wondered how inelegant I would be extracting myself at the other end.

Paddling upriver on the Bow

The guy gave us a gentle shove and we fell into our regular rhythm on our regular sides of the canoe. It felt familiar, comfortable, and companionable despite the chaotic traffic around the dock. We saw one canoe where both paddlers paddled on the same side and then when the direction went wonky they both changed so that they were both paddling on the other side. Nobody was actually going in circles although there was a lot of enthusiastic zigzagging going on and the majority of the canoes on the river seemed to be out of control to some degree. Some folks seemed to be enjoying the adventure while others looked entirely frustrated by a boat that was seemingly incapable or unwilling to go in a straight line. We paddled our way out of the chaos as soon as we could and then relaxed as we made our way up river. The current isn’t terribly strong and although there was a bit of a headwind we could make as much progress as we wanted to depending on how hard we wanted to work.

We both felt out of shape and realized that an hour’s paddle would be quite enough. Still, we had not forgotten the basic skills of moving the canoe and putting it where we wanted it to go. We kept our eyes out for sweepers and deadheads although we got fairly close to one because the river was murky. We figured out how long it would likely take us to get back. Because we were paddling upstream and against the wind on the way out we figured we’d be faster on the way back.

Mount Rundle from the canoe

The breeze on the water was lovely. We saw the remains of a beaver dam, some horse riders on the left shore, and a few killdeers flying along the shore and then landing farther upstream. We weren’t close enough to make out their colours but I recognized their characteristic flight. There didn’t seem to be any others going our direction but we kept meeting people coming down the river. Some folks had kayaks, some had paddle boards and others were in canoes. We exchanged greetings with some, and most looked happy to be out.

We decided to turn back shortly before our set time and the trip back was quicker than the trip out. We both remarked that, in the morning, we would probably feel a few muscles we hadn’t noticed in a while. As we came toward the rental area we rejoined the chaotically zig-zagging boats. We were confident that we could avoid any of them if we needed to. We stopped and let others approach the dock first.

When the guy on the dock motioned to us to come in we headed for the dock at a leisurely pace, came alongside and then I did a cross-bow stroke which brought us perfectly in line so he could grab a thwart and steady the canoe. “Wow,” he remarked, “You don’t usually see a cross-bow draw. That’s the best docking job I’ve seen from anyone who didn’t work here!” I was quite pleased with myself, quite pleased with us that some of the skills we developed over the years of wilderness canoe trips were still available for us to call upon. Neither of us had any illusions that we were capable of hopping in a canoe and undertaking a wilderness river trip but it felt extremely good to have caused a nice young man to take notice of the two old people who knew how to dock a canoe.

As predicted, getting out of the boat was humbling and not particularly graceful. R got out first, then braced himself, extended his hand and hauled me to my feet. From there I put a knee on the dock, climbed out, and then stood up. Not graceful, but grinning all the same. I think I will advocate for us to rent a canoe whenever the opportunity presents itself. It was a delightful experience and it will be one of those memories we return to often. ‘Remember the time we went to Banff when the kitchen was being painted and we rented a canoe?’ We will both smile. 

If not now, when?