Sunday, April 15, 2018

Bow Valley Parkway-Canadian Rockies



It was a grey, soggy spring day today in the mountains. The ceiling of cloud was fairly low, and there was a constant wave of either snowflakes or light drizzle.

I had to get outside!

I drove down the Bow Valley Parkway west of Banff.....going very slow, looking for some inspiration for some quick sketches. I frustrated many visitors on the road, as they were zooming down the pavement, trying to get it all in. I, on the other hand, was crawling down the road, trying to get it all in.

In my van I had a folding chair, a folding stand, and my watercolour travel kit. On my first stop, I pulled off with this towering fin of rock above me. Flanked by patches of snow and trees, it was the perfect subject. The back hatch of the van gave me cover from the drizzle as I sat in my camp chair. As I was creating my sketch, ravens flew above me, the wind with its spring chill danced across my face and the pungent smell of spring filled my nostrils.

Finishing my first sketch, I drove a little farther down the road. On my left, Pilot Mtn. was towering up in the cloudy sky and I stopped at a little pullout. As I worked on my sketch the light breeze again caressed my face. All of a sudden there was a strong smell in the air. At first I thought skunk.......but it was different. The sharp, acrid smell cut the air, but it was more musty and damp smelling than a skunk. I put my paints down, stood up and scanned my surroundings. Not seeing anything, I sat down and finished my sketch. 3 times the scent of the visitor hit my nostrils, and 3 times I stood up, spinning in a slow circle to take in all around me. Nothing was visible, but I knew I had company.

When I got home, I searched on the web for what smells like a skunk. One link gave me a few possibilities.......Coyote, Wolf, Badger and Wolverine. Having seen Wolf and Coyote at various times on the Parkway leads me to believe one of them was sharing the view with me and the Ravens.

You are never really alone in the wilderness.

Robert Krysak


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