This is the third in a series of posts about our bicycling trip down the Icefield Parkway, through Jasper and Banff National Parks in Alberta, Canada. The full series can be found here.
My lodging for the night was a bunk in the men’s dorm at the hostel. I got up early and bumped into Anne downstairs — she and Julie had bunks in a women’s dorm — and the two of us finished getting our bikes together. Since the afternoon was supposed to be rainy (and Wednesday’s weather might even be a “wintry mix” closer to town) we hoped for a relatively early start, but it wasn’t meant to be.
The bikes were scheduled for a quick check at a local shop, but the mechanic there was obsessive and took forever working on them, fixing what wasn’t broke and even trying to clean the frames. But we were already committed to the bike check, and now we were stuck in town while the weather deteriorated.
After a long and frustrating delay, we finally hit the road. The rain had started, but it wasn’t really all that bad (we did get a bit chilled whenever we went downhill). Our route left town southbound on Highway 93, then after a few miles we turned right onto 93A, the “old road” as we heard it called. Highway 93A was in really good shape (as were almost all the Canadian roads), but it was fairly remote — it went south of the main road, and was hillier and less direct, and it did not get a lot of traffic. We started to climb…
This section was one of my favorites. We crossed over several mountain streams, full with snow-melt and practically waterfalls as they tumbled down the mountains, and got a good view of that crazy pale blue-green water when we crossed the Whirlpool River. (This was caused by all the “glacial till” — silt in the water that scattered the light the same way dust in the atmosphere scatters light, and with the same effect. The rivers and lakes were all unreal aqua blues and greens, even though a bucket of river water was essentially colorless, albeit silty.) Eventually we came to Athabasca Falls, where the Athabasca River puts on an awe-inspiring display of power.
Some photos from the day’s ride:
Athabasca Falls is where our route rejoined the Icefields Parkway, and our lodgings (the Athabasca Falls Hostel) was just a few hundred meters past that. We were checked in by Maggie, the lovely (and unflappable, we’d find out the next day) young Scottish woman who managed the hostel, got shown our bunks, and then we got to work on dinner. Soon enough we were fed, warm and dry, and hanging out in the hostel’s common room, which kind of reminded me of “Hodgepodge Lodge.”
We were expecting more rain in the morning.
