There's a feeling you get

When Linda and I did a little road trip down the california coast from the bay area to santa barbara a couple of years ago, she had this amazing ability to slow time down. "Tell me all the fun things we did," she'd ask, as we drove along. And we'd replay: first we stopped at that place with the bridge and took pictures, then we stopped at Andrew Molera beach and walked along..." Etc. It was cementing and gratifying, reliving the moments in recursive waves as we were creating more.

That's what yesterday felt like for me -- just about every moment memorable, and the in-between moments sweet savoring of what went just before.

It was one of my favourite days ever. I packed up in banff, went for french toast, had a little chat with the waiter about the best place to stop for a short hike. Took back the pants I'd bought the day before because a snap had pulled out and they promised to repair and mail. Drove off with the sunroof open, intending to go back to Louise and do the around-the-lake hike. Instead, on impulse, I pulled off the transcanada onto the Bow Valley parkway, which also said "to lake louise," and found myself in a gorgeous canyon. Paused for a wapiti on the side of the road, rolled along more slowly, savoring the peaks and the trees. Loved my car some more. Then again, on impulse, pulled off at what I thought was a lookout -- Castleview Lookout I think it was called -- and then realized it was a short, perfect hike. 3.7 km up, through the perfect blend of forest and openness, rocky snowy ranges off to the west, a soaring "castle" of rock above. Glorious sun.



I paused for a bit at the top, ate a nutty bar thingy, and laid in the sun. When I'd arrived, a couple of other hikers had just climbed down to a lower ledge. I was taken with the idea of scrambling down a bit, though I had a moment of trepidation about doing it on my own. I was itching to get my feet into the rocks, to feel the hand grip. I looked over the edge, saw that there were two ledges, and realized that if I fell the worst that would happen would be some scrapes and bruises. So I lowered myself over, scrambled down about 15 feet, admired the different view, then pulled myself back up. Short taste of bliss, promise to self that the mountain hiking I love isn't dependent on anyone else.

Down skipping, sweaty and off to Louise for lunch. Pause to try to assist a rueful cyclist with a shredded tire -- not a speck of space in my car, alas, and no service on the i-phone. Louise, bookstore, lunch, car keys left in bookstore and returned by frantic bookseller before I noticed they were gone.

Then, onto the pass. Truly the most breathtaking driving I've ever done. Car perfect, nimble, responsive, awe at the blend of engineering and the stunning, stunning mountains. Curves hugged, all passes perfect, fast enough to feel the road but always in control. Going across a bridge (Kicking Horse River, maybe?) I literally welled up with a moment of awe -- and giggled out loud simultaneously.

There's a lot of construction on the transcanada between Lake Louise and Salmon Arm, and there was a fair bit of stopping. But I drove with the sunroof and windows open most of the way, music, sometimes Kat's amazing cd, construction dust coming in with the warm air, perfectly happy.

The last bit of the drive to kamloops was tiring -- sore from the hike, weary -- but it was joyful to discover how glorious the interior is. There's an untouched vocabulary for me -- what exactly is each region? where does the okanagan start? what are the names of those mountains? what's that river? is that a salmon cannery? Realizing that "belvedere castle" is just french for "castle lookout."

Last night, a crappy but sufficient Howard Johnson's in Kamloops. Today, my new home.