Much farther south now, we are at last in the land of solidly paved roads and even a radio station now and then. South of our camp of last night the Cassiar Highway became newly paved – with Macadam. Oh joy! The Yellowhead Highway was not as new, but was also a real road. Its only problem was traffic. Lots of trucks in a hurry, many with double trailers. They pulled us out of the wilderness and along to the City of Prince George.

There our progress stalled again for mail. It arrived two full weeks, to the day, from its priority mailing. The stall allowed us to clean up the rig a bit and bird some fine trails established around this center of forestry. Two life birds were added to the list, Cassin’s vireo and dusky flycatcher.

The land there gives evidence of supporting humans. Besides forestry, some ranching and farming are in evidence, but towns are still far apart. The price of gasoline remains obscene. A pine beetle invasion has killed all of the region’s lodgepole pines. Groves of these trees appear purple in the distance. Closer inspection finds that the browned leaves reflect this tint. Sad. Residents blame the disaster on a local outbreak that was not controlled. Some blame a couple of mild winters. I suspect an alien beetle found its way in. The blight has spread east and into the Rockies.

So, we enjoyed only one extra day in Prince George, and then drove east into Mt. Robson Provincial Park. Named for the highest mountain in the Canadian Rockies, and a very impressive one, it is green with spruce, fir, aspen, and pine. The campground is in a deep forest grove along the Frasier River. The river, as others in the region, was roaring from a heavy snowmelt. Rain during our stay added to the river’s strength.

We stayed two nights and hiked to the edge of the Alpine. After our first long hike in months, we were sore. Planning to backpack in September, we had better keep walking through next month.

Our next passage took us into Jasper National Park where we camped in the “Icefields” area. The campground sits on a terminal moraine along a mountain slope opposite the Athabasca Glacier, one of many spouting from the Columbia Icefield. The weather was unsettled during our stay and profoundly influenced by both the glacier and the ice field above it. During the night, with temperatures in the 40s (F) conditions settled, but during the day a strong cold wind raced down the glacier and chilled the valley below. Since the air being chilled was humid, a cloud often formed over the glacier and produced both showers and mist at times.

The Canadians operate their parks somewhat differently than do the Americans. There is a blend of preservation and commercialism. Icefield tours are operated privately, but tickets are sold at the national park visitor center. The tour includes a bus ride to a high point adjacent to the glacier and then an “ice bus” ride down a ramp and onto the glacier itself. The bus stops in the middle of the glacier and tourists may walk about a bit. More adventurous folks may simply park below the glacier and walk up. Signs at the visitor center and at the glacier warn of its hazards.

In contrast, the U.S. park service would be appalled at the bus rides and rope off the Alaskan glaciers adjacent to park roads so that falling or slippery ice won’t smash the tourists. Curiously, each country worries about different hazards and establishes separate rules to protect its people. Reflecting on this, most of our laws and regulations serve only to create a nuisance. Most people seek the adventures they want and usually keep their head about them. The self-destructive also proceed about their business. Everyone ignores the regulations.

We chose to hike the ridge opposite the glacier and took in fine views of several glaciers and even glimpsed the icefield behind them. Sadly we did not find white-tailed ptarmigan, our target bird, but did score fine views of a pair of prairie falcons. We found one on the ground with a fresh killed ground squirrel. Involved with its meal, the raptor stayed and gave us close views before flying off to a cliff with its large meal. We also enjoyed great views of big horn sheep rams enjoying a summer holiday in their alpine pasture. Some of the rams engaged in the exercise of head butting to relieve their summer boredom. What a crack that makes.