First stop Jasper
By complete good fortune I arrived on the platform at Jasper to catch a photo of the observation car and one carriage being shunted out of the station accompanied by the engineer on his bike. “We’ll be back in twenty minutes” he shouted as I ran along beside him, “We are just turning round”. This was not the Canadian, the long train that runs between Vancouver and the East Coast, just the short stubby one hiking over the mountains to the west coast and back. Gazing in awe at the engine, a great powerful mass of thundering metal, I had a thought for our very own train driver. He survived a train derailment in the Rockies not so long ago, here’s thinking of you good friend.
Mountains and rivers, rivers and mountains. There were incredible views all the way.
We entered another world up there above the tree line where glaciers flow, icefields nest and, when we were there, the snow flies horizontally! It was one of those times when one could be put off ones stride by the seeming blot of commerce.
As I reflect now on my visit it is the majesty and promise of these high places that remains with me. Much in the same way as I remember the great Buddhist halls in Japan, China and Taiwan I visited a year ago.
One thought on “High Places”
I remember that feeling too. I was a young teenager sitting on a stump overlooking an immense valley. Opposite me was an unclimbable mountain range. Beyond that was an unknown world of mystery, hidden from my view. It was like another country that was so close, but just beyond my reach.
I was mesmerized and time stopped until my Dad came looking for me to call me to supper.