Sunday, July 19, 2020

Canada (2019) Part One

September 4th, 2019 saw Joan and me embark on an eagerly awaited trip to the Canadian Rockies. We rose at 3:30am for a 6:30 flight to Minneapolis, where we had a generous four-hour layover. Fortunately MSP is well laid out for walking and for opportunities to observe the airport expansion work.
There's still a lot of manual labor in the construction biz.
Hertz was running low on cars in Calgary and upgraded us to a Sonata. On arriving at Canadian Artisans Bed & Breakfast in Canmore we were shocked to see the empty lot across the gravel drive fenced off and dug up.
Val and Bob told us that the vacant lot had changed hands three times in the last fifteen years, but they had been given only two weeks notice that construction was to begin. Every tree was removed and the building will stretch to the minimum 5' setback from the property line. Ouch! What a crowding.

The next day was a Thursday, and the Canmore farmers market.
Love this sign.

We bought some luscious fruit -- fresh berries from British Columbia -- and, from a German-style bakery, lunch sandwiches. After gearing up we drove a short distance east for today's warm-up hike, sections of the West Wind Creek Loop. Parts of today's hike were repeats from last year, and some new.

The start has several creek crossings.
After a while the trail took a right turn and began to climb the ridge, but a lesser path split off shortly after the turn, taking us into new territory. More winding through the cool woods ensued, and then the land began to open up.
The ridge trail goes up to those green and beige peaks.
Joan and I meandered up the valley, encountering a wilson's warbler, mushrooms, and fall flowers -- asters, cinquefoil, paintbrush, and so forth.
At the end we even bushwhacked up the ridge for a few minutes along a sketchy route before thinking the better of it and returning to the meadow. Then it was time for the first half of lunch in a grove of trees.

We backtracked to the ridge trail and decided to climb as far as the first good view. The vista revealed the difference between the (relatively) low ridge we were ascending and the high mountains.
I couldn't resist fiddling with this photo via the Deep Dream Generator.
After the second half of lunch at this viewpoint we descended and returned to the car, happy with our exploration.

The next day, Sept. 6th, our goal to was to reach the Chockstone on McGillivray Creek, which had eluded us last year. We parked closer to the trailhead, and found the path that departs from the Trans-Canada Trail (renamed the Great Trail in 2016).
The trail remained in the woods above McGillivray Creek, whose stream bed is expanded and strewn with rock and other debris from the flood of 2013.
Many of the fallen trees that last year had created obstacles in our path were now cut in two parts, perhaps by the Lac Des Arcs Climbing School, which uses the creek walls for climbing exercises.
Rings on the rock wall.

The valley narrowed and the path, also shrinking, climbed more and more steeply to stay above the creek, demanding constant vigilance of pole and foot placement, rock steps, and roots. It leveled out -- on average -- and after a while corkscrewed down towards the channel bottom.
Large rocks were omnipresent, and grew huge as we ascended along the streambed: the heavy boulders dropped out of the flood first, smaller ones downstream.
Our steps forward became trickier and time-consuming; we wove from side to side to find a way forward, sometimes climbing up a scrap of bankside, always placing our feet and hands carefully. Wet rocks were treacherous and best avoided. After half an hour of this we reached the Chockstone.
Really, Joan, it's quite safe ...
The way beyond was daunting, filled with boulders taller than we were.
We decided this was far enough. Back at the parking area we met the first other hikers of the day, just starting out. Late starts seem not uncommon in Canada.

The 7th was a transition day. Joan and I were heading for Cathedral Mountain Lodge, a comfortable accommodation only a short drive away from the Lake O'Hara parking area, making it easy to catch the O'Hara morning bus. We picked up lunches at Storm Mountain Lodge, directly on our way to Boom Lake, today's hike. We were also checking out Storm Mountain as a place to stay next year.

Ready for a sunny Saturday excursion, we arrived at the parking area for Boom Lake, our first time.
The trail is wide and after an initial climb rather gentle.
Boom Lake is a family favorite because of the easy hiking. The last few hundred meters are rocky and uneven, but the stretch through the forest had no obstacles other than an occasional muddy patch or footbridge.

This panoramic shot of the lake suffers from prismatic stutters, because of the angle of the sun, but it's the best I have.
A couple dozen people -- mostly women -- had spread out along the rocky shore, boulder hopping to find a conducive sit-spot. Looking up the lake,
the ramparts are impressive. Joan and I found our own spot and had lunch. We heard a pika making its "eep!" call, and a bold chipmunk sniffed and nuzzled Joan's pant leg.

Shortly after leaving the lake we encountered an arriving Japanese family of four; a young boy struggled with a cart/wagon carrying various picnic supplies, including a pillow. It seemed quite incongruous. On the way back we met many inbound groups of two to six, usually with a dog or two, which ranged from small lapdogs to a mastiff -- all on leash, as they should be in the park. When we reached our car there were only one or two parking spaces left.

We had a good dinner and rest at Cathedral Mountain, although I managed to knock my clock/meditation-timer off the bedside table onto the floor. The electronics still worked but the LCD display was a cracked and unintelligible inkblot. And the darn thing isn't made any more. I had to improvise with my phone.

Well, tomorrow would mean Lake O'Hara, which can soothe many wounds.

Wednesday, July 8, 2020

Maintaining the Blog: Bad Links

As a blogger I've noticed that as a post ages the risk of bad hyperlinks within it increases. Web sites reorganize, descriptions of old events are deleted, on-line newspaper articles disappear -- there are numerous reasons why any blog will eventually develop links that fail when the reader clicks on them.

Fortunately there is a free resource to track down bad links automatically. The paid version might be required for various reasons (the web site is over 3,000 pages, to export to Excel, etc.), but I've never needed it.

Here's an example screenshot from scanning my blog (click on the image to enlarge).

Now I must investigate each link and decide whether to replace, repair, remove, or ignore it. I don't worry about the timeout errors because I've discovered these are frequently routing errors somewhere deep in the Internet, and a request can stall at any of up to a dozen nodes on its way. It's not in my power to fix, and the flaw will disappear in a few weeks or months as network routing continually updates.

When I first ran the broken link checker, perhaps 18 months ago, it found almost 400 broken links from my decade of blogging. Now it's just a maintenance issue every six months or so, as above.

Saturday, July 4, 2020

Hummingbird Alert!

"You've got to come down to the dining room!" Joan called up to me. "I can see a hummingbird building a nest!"

Indeed, in the lower branches of an ornamental pear tree, perhaps 12 feet off the ground and 15 feet from our dining room window, construction was in progress.

The construction zone.
All photos were taken through glass.

The nest builder, with a thin strand of spider silk, barely visible, attached to the tip of her tail (click on the image to enlarge).

She appears to be sitting calmly on the nest in this photo, but she's constantly squiggling, smoothing the interior contours of the new home.

Sometimes flapping is required.

A nearby squirrel was not impressed,
but Joan and I are enamored with our new neighbor, and with the prospect of observing a hummingbird family over the next month. Our binoculars will not gather dust, and the next hummingbird post is here.

Friday, July 3, 2020

Paul Busse Garden Railway @ Franklin Park Conservatory

On July 1st Joan and I visited the Franklin Park Conservatory, not far from downtown Columbus, to check out the Paul Busse Garden Railway on its opening day. (It runs through January 10th). We signed up for the 9:00am admission of the members preview because we knew the day was going to be oven-hot in direct sun; the air temperature later reached 90°F (32°C). The lower angle of the morning light was an unanticipated bonus for photography.

We had a short walk to reach the railway after checking in, and on our way we halted to admire this topiary elephant.
 The G-scale installation was on the far side of the main plaza.
A closeup of the first sign (click on the image to enlarge).

The Conservatory often has a small indoor railway set up over the Christmas holidays, but it's just a speck compared to this Paul Busse creation, which you walk around, through, and even under.
A full-size version of the video clip is here.

The statistics of this project are impressive,
but they don't capture the detail that inhabits it. And let's not ignore the fact that the entire exhibit, except the trains and tracks, was built with natural materials.

The pathways that branch out from the wide central and encircling boulevards are marked as one-way: "enter here" and "exit only," but the restriction is impossible to enforce. Joan and I meandered through twice, finding more to see the second time. Thematically the installation is divided into four "lands," Fairytale, Wild West Town, the animal-themed Who Lives Here, and European Travels. I'll offer up a series of photos in no particular order; after all, everyone picks their own route through.

Looking in from one of the shady spots.

Don't forget to click on any image to enlarge.

The little folks need to lean in to study the buildings.

Note the vines used as bridge arches.

The elevated railway, one of nine train sets, circles most of the installation.

A beer shipment for the old lady who lives in the shoe.

Use your wide-angle eyeballs and you'll see simultaneous goings-on.


The European Village.

I loved this scene, with the elevated railway, two other loops, and the lighthouse plus waterfall.
  
I liked it so much I tweaked my photo using the Deep Dream Generator web site. Deep Dream takes an image you supply plus a style you choose, and applies the style to the image. It can produce psychedelic or other extreme transformations, but I experimented with the settings to achieve the look of a painting with slightly different color tones.

The High Castle of Fairyland.

This image of Rapunzel in her tower isn't sharp, but when enlarged you can see her hair falling all the way to the ground, ending in a red bow.

A more unusual feature was a "tree" you could enter,
with mosses garlanding the walls and pinpoint lights that changed color suspended from the ceiling.

The high track that passes the lighthouse and waterfall, from another angle.

A second waterfall is just above this locomotive.

An overview of the Wild West.

I hope this report has whetted your appetite to see the Paul Busse Garden Railway. My photos are superficial compared to the Real Thing.