I haven’t been in Edmonton for thirty years so we decided to spend a few
days there and see how it had progressed in the interim. We’d never before visited that Canadian icon of commercialism, West Edmonton Mall. Isn’t it strange that we’ve travelled to some of the most remote places on the earth and yet never visited it? So we remedied that - on our first day in the city, we checked it out. It’s almost a carbon copy of The Mall of America in Minneapolis and I think I’m way too old to appreciate either one. We stopped at my favourite shopping spot on the way home to Maggie; the place that always gives me the thrill of consumerism – Costco! Now, that’s my amusement park.We had a glut of social interaction while in Edmonton starting on Saturday afternoon with a visit to Fernie’s sister (1 of 5). We were staying in Leduc south of town and she lives on the northwest side. The traffic was horrendous crossing the city particularly on the return because of the numerous road construction projects forging towards completion before the winter sets in.
Sunday morning for breakfast at the White Spot we met a business colleague of Fernie’s from the 1980’s. At that time, I referred to him as a ‘kid’ so I was taken aback to find that he’s now over 50. He’s a scintillating conversationalist and so it was a pleasant diversion for me and Fernie was so pleased to be back in touch with his old friend. That was the first of three social engagements that day.
It was my turn now for a bit of
nostalgia with a visit to a high school chum. She and I only got back in touch with each 
other about 6 or 7 years ago and now for the first time, we were able to sit down with each other and reminisce. It was non-stop chatter from the moment I stepped through her front door. Fernie plunked down with her son and husband who were watching football and had a stimulating afternoon and was not in a hurry to leave. Finally, we had dinner at a Greek restaurant in Leduc with a young couple we’d met on our South African journey last year and we shared tales of our travels and their anticipated journeys. It was a terrifically satisfying day and it didn’t even wear us out.
Never before in any city we’ve visited have we experienced driving habits quite like those in Edmonton. Now please Edmonton folks, don’t get defensive; I’m not attacking, just reporting. Edmonton drivers are so painfully slow. With a speed limit of 110kph, many coasted along at 90kph. So I’d pass one of the snails and move over and invariably within a couple of minutes I’d catch up to another one. This necessitated a constant series of lane changes. So I wondered – are they farmers that have come to the city – used to driving tractors rather than cars? Another curious habit was they’d drive half way across the shoulder – that must be from driving farm equipment. The drivers ranged from young women to old men and everything in between. So maybe it’s just an Edmonton phenomenon. So I guess they just aren’t in a hurry and that was also exhibited by an amazing tolerance and graciousness in merging.
We drove south from Leduc to Red Deer and then west to enter the Icefields Parkway in Banff/Jasper National Park in the middle, then back north to Jasper before heading west on the Yellowhead Highway. That route was such a mistake. First, they charged us $18 to go through the park and as a ‘cheaparino’ that irritated me. The road was rippled and rough – I guess our $18 isn’t for highway maintenance. But worst of all were the thousands of tourists. It was off-season and we were told at the entrance station that most campgrounds were closed – since Labour Day.
“Can we boondock?’ I cheekily enquired. After I explained the term boondock, she assumed a horrified expression and sharply retorted, “No, certainly not – you must use a campground”.
“Hrmphhh!”
The Columbia Icefields, crawling with trippers was just an anticlimax to all the wonders we’d seen in the far north, so we slowed down, noticed how much the glacier had receded since we’d last visited and peeled rubber to get away from the throng. The only campground open was “Whistlers” 2km south of Jasper with over 700 campsites – so what else could we do. We didn’t really want to drive that far but it was necessary. Exhausted when we arrived, we were shocked to find ourselves in a long line-up – about thirty RVs were ahead of us – mostly Cruise America/Canada rentals and it appeared to be taking an inordinate amount of time to just sign in one of them. So we soared past them all and manoeuvred a tight U-turn to whip right outa’ there. After the Yukon and even Alaska, which we perceived as busy but not so in comparison, we had been spoiled by the easy access to isolation. Banff/Jasper National Parks have become amusement parks for the thousands of Europeans that descend annually and I think we’ll just stay away in the future. We stopped in a BC Provincial Parks campground for the night – it was only 30 minutes west of Jasper and there was hardly anyone there.
We both agreed that it was time to go home. As we passed Mount Robson, sparklingly etched against the cornflower blue sky, I stifled a yawn. Ho-hum!
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