Biking in the Canadian Rockies?! Let’s do it!

This trip began, pre-departure, as most trips do: checking the weather to see what sort of layers might be needed, knowing it can be very unpredictable in the mountains. And needing to pack cycling gear, for a variety of conditions, is a new wrinkle, along with carry-on only (current airline fiascos dictate that; no way I am checking a bag!). Sun, clouds, heat, altitude, cold…wet?! Packing discipline and skills put to the test for sure.

A short flight from SFO to Calgary and I’m at an orderly but crowded airport immigration hall. The long lines snaking throughout the maze of ropes meant I was not likely to catch my shuttle to Banff, but they somehow move people through very quickly. I was optimistic, as is my nature, despite the risk I would be tapped on the shoulder for a covid test (random testing at Canadian airports). The last step was to give the immigration officer the entry receipt from the immigration kiosk, and to my surprise, she asked a lot of questions. “Where are you staying? for how long? what’s the purpose of your trip? have you been here before? are you traveling with others? what do you do for work?” Unusual…but not terribly time consuming and I made it to the shuttle after a major hustle through Arrivals in search of Door 5. Hello Canada!

First stop: Banff. Umm, where’s that exactly? I will confess to my (and perhaps most Americans’) poor knowledge of Canadian geography, so here’s a map. 

Our Backroads trip begins in Banff and ends in Jasper, but the adventure in between is what we signed up for. It’s not about getting from one place to another, but rather soaking in the sights and sounds of an incredibly beautiful and unfamiliar part of this planet – from the vantage point of two wheels – and doing that with old friends and new. It is truly about the journey, not the destination, even though we have a beginning and an end.

All journeys begin with the first step (forgive the cliché), and this one is bike fitting. Getting your own pedals installed begins the process (for you non-cyclists, pedals/cleats/clips are not universal, and the cleats themselves are individually fit to your shoes/feet, so you want your own), then comes seat and handlebar adjustments. This was all done after a tasty lunch with the Backroads team and the other 19 guests. Lots of folks from CA…other parts of the US…two from Brazil. I was pleasantly surprised at how diverse the group was. Brief intros, a lengthy “rules of the road” discussion, a wildlife safety talk (bears are dangerous – don’t be stupid), and we were off! A short day (~20 miles) was intentional so we could get used to the bikes they provide.

And the first impression of cycling in Canada: we rode on a bike path for 20 miles! We have so little of that experience in the US, at least around Northern California. It runs adjacent to a parkway, maybe two lanes of vehicle traffic in each direction, but is separated by plenty of grassy area between. It almost feels like the bike path was there first, with its rolling little hills and small bridges that traverse the many streams dissecting the patches of forest and plains through which we rolled. It’s just an appetizer of what’s to come in the Canadian Rockies when we start ascending tomorrow (Banff is at 4500’, so we’re already rather high up). After some social time and a noisy dinner with the entire group – which was great to get to know everyone a bit – we settled into an early slumber at the historic Banff Springs Hotel with great anticipation of tomorrow morning’s first “route rap.” [each morning begins with a discussion of that day’s ride]

David and Noah, our trip leaders, and Tarryn, our ride support, are awesome. They clearly love their jobs, and work so hard to make sure we are all having a good time. One of the many ways they do this is creatively describing the routes. Peanut M&Ms asleep on a bed of miniature tissues arise to cycle up one-can hills and two-can hills, and descend over streams of blue straps capped by waterfalls of silver buckles that give way to canyons between hills of plastic lunch boxes crowded with more M&Ms gazing at the view. You can’t help but start the day with a smile.

As we leave the quaint town of Banff, bustling with summertime crowds shopping, eating, perusing the galleries and waiting in line for the only ice cream in town, the majesty of the Canadian Rockies begins to unfold before us. Our legs and lungs warm up as we cycle out of town, awestruck by the never-ending magnificence around us. We’re riding through the Bow Valley, the bright sun and blue sky shining above energizing our body and spirit.

One of the safety briefing topics was to watch for “bear jams”: a vehicle stops when they see a bear, and another joins them, and all of a sudden a dozen cars are scattered across the road. None of these people are watching for cyclists so beware sudden moves and car doors opening! We got lucky with our first bear sighting – nary a car to be seen.

Everywhere you turn in this magical landscape it just becomes more and more beautiful. The pictures really don’t convey the feeling of being IN it. It’s vast and colorful and expands all around further than you can see…everywhere you look you have to turn a 360 to take it in. The mountains push their way up to the perfect turquoise backdrop of cotton ball clouds, the carpet of green pine trees softening the slopes’ edges that gently, sometimes forcefully, make their way to the icy cold glacier-melt rivers that cut their way through the rock and feed the lakes. It’s spectacular and timeless…

Interesting geology note: the water is very cloudy. Light blue, but cloudy white, which comes from “rock flour.” As the glaciers move (they all move; think of the phrase “at a glacial pace”), they grind the rock beneath them into a fine powder. This powder then runs down into the rivers with the melting ice, causing the water to appear cloudy. When this ends up in underground streams, the flour gets naturally filtered out, and that water then spills into the lakes that are crystal clear. Mother nature is amazing.

We’re now in the Lake Louise area, and while we can’t ride our bikes to it, we take the Backroads van for a visit after we roll into the Post Hotel. It’s unbelievably beautiful at the lake albeit super crowded. Bags and bags of peanut M&Ms  but worth the visit. Lake Louise was named after Queen Victoria’s daughter (Princess Louise Alberta), and the Victoria Glacier sits above the lake watching over her. There’s an historic romanticism to that idea that could take us down an England/Canada relations thread here, but no…

Many of these little towns and their buildings date back to the construction of the Canadian Rail, some to house construction workers, and some as vacation spots for those early riders of the rail. In both cases, the buildings have seen many seasons come and go, and while updated, most don’t have any air conditioning, and it’s hot. At The Post Hotel, we’re told “close the blinds, open the windows, and turn on the fan…” as soon as you get into your room (good advice, it turned out). The restaurant was exceptionally good and the people congenial and welcoming, allowing an easy forgiveness for the too-warm accommodations.

The next morning’s route rap looked like this:

See that big loop at the far right? 2,000’ of elevation gain over 15 miles, the latter five or so being a small descent, so an intense climb for a good distance. It’s also the highest altitude*. A pickup stop would be stationed just before that hill for those of us not wanting to tackle it after having already ridden 70 miles.

Having been briefed, we clipped in and started another glorious day as we made our way to the Columbia Icefields and the Glacier View Lodge. We would end up at 6800’, and the lungs were feeling it by the time we got there.

It’s hard to say but keeping it real – in hindsight, this was my least favorite ride. Even though there was a wide shoulder most of the way, we rode on the Bow Valley Parkway and it is essentially a freeway. Cars passing each other, big tractor trailer trucks, RV’s, beefy pick-up trucks towing massive fifth wheels…the sound of engines and tires on roads and the wind whipping past with each one was just unsettling and kept us from really enjoying the surrounding majesty of mountains and sky.

There was a cultural highlight where we stopped for lunch. A nice little park where we ate flanked a truck stop, which had an extensive gift shop. I couldn’t help but wonder who merchandised this place, and how much of this stuff actually sold. I’ll leave it at the hoodies section. Paints a different picture of Canada than most of us have, I think…

The traffic calmed a bit, fortunately, and we continued our adventure through the chilly but thankfully dry mountain roads. For those of us not wanting to do the massive final climb, we would get picked up at the Saskatchewan River Crossing and shuttled to the Glacier View Lodge (the one place to stay at the Columbia Icefields). As the van pulled into the parking lot, we were awestruck by where we were.  How far we’d come, it seemed, from the warm sunny flats of Banff to nearly 7,000 feet and cold snowy glaciers – but also in awe of what we were seeing. A glacier thousands of years old right across the road, our rooms peering out from the warmth behind triple-paned glass, watching over it day and night. 

A climate change note is in order: this is one of the places you see in all those pictures of glaciers receding. What it looks like today, and what it looked like 10 and 20 years ago, ya know? The glacier has been shrinking for 125 years, but the rate at which it is getting smaller has accelerated dramatically. They now estimate that by 2050 it will be gone. 

The next day, through the blur of early morning eyes not yet caffeinated, we could see it stormed overnight, dropping fresh snow on the mountains above the glacier. It didn’t leave any on the ground where we were, and by the time we were sufficiently amped and breakfasted, the day looked promising with dry roads and sunshine. And with today’s route rap drawing, how could we not be excited?!

A long day of riding was planned but not too much climbing. This was by far my favorite day – amazing cycling, very little traffic, a couple stops to see cool stuff (the Glacier Skywalk and the Athabasca Falls), and getting off the busy trafficked road. The weather kept changing, as did my outfits (had to throw that in Nic!). We started cold and ended warm, descending 3,000′ by the time we got to Jasper. 

Lunch was a fantastic picnic Noah put together, enjoyed at a small campground in the middle of nowhere. The mountains above us, lonely pine trees keeping us company, dirt under our feet, a tranquil lake just down the path with a bench to sit and ponder. It was exceptional and energizing for the last push into town (and the final hill we knew was coming). The only disappointment that day was no mountain goat sightings, in spite of David’s excellent rendering… 😄

The prospect of two nights at one hotel was comforting (funny how that is after a couple one-nighters), even though we knew our adventure was winding down. We’d been so lucky with the weather so far, but the wind and rain gods were not expected to continue their cooperation. Consensus was a sprinkle could be tolerated but not much more. But leave those thoughts for tomorrow…

The perfect day ended with a fantastic meal and a walk around the lake with the sun setting, the early evening light shining just so on the puffy clouds above…and the loons calling as they made their way across the lake’s mirror-like surface reflecting the sky and mountains. Life is good.

The next morning was…wet. Or was that the sprinklers? Hmmm…not sure I’m up for this. At the route rap, I got inspired – just a bit. Noah described the hill [step stool] upon which sits Lake Maligne [plastic box with water in it]…if you start at the bottom, a 25 mile climb up (!), then a descent with a one-can climb, down to Medicine Lake (which drains through mysterious subterranean rivers but that’s another story), another descent and a one-can climb, and an optional hike across bridges [cookie boxes]. You can’t help but get inspired! Okay then, even though it is likely to rain, we decided to go for it – but the short option (shuttle to top and ride down). 

We started dry but indeed got rained on, and the slick roadway on some steep descents were a little hairy.  Somehow that was invigorating, perhaps evidence of our personal fortitude, and that felt good? We rode on, we got wet, we laughed, pedaled, we stopped to take in the incredible nature all around us. And while we didn’t see any of the exceptionally rendered big horn sheep, we came across something even better at the ride’s end – an amazing bull elk. What an incredible creature – other-worldly – and massive – up to my shoulder at his back (not that I went close enough to measure!). Just…WOW.

While we started that morning with great trepidation, and even though we were wet and a bit chilled by the end, and my ass was wet thanks to the spray from the rear tire, it turned out to be another great day. It was an adventure on two wheels, and that’s what we came for. We pushed ourselves out of our comfort zones and felt all the more accomplished for having done so. 

And we were rewarded with the appearance of a mystical elk. It seemed like a gift from a force we don’t understand…an acknowledgement that sometimes it pays off to ride the more difficult path, to take the road that turns out to be not quite as hard as you thought it might be.

Go beyond. Find your elk.

*altitude and “elevation gain” are not the same thing. The latter is the sum total of all the ascents on a ride. Say you go up 500’ then down, then back up 500’ – your elevation gain is 1,000’ even though you are still at the same 500’ spot.