Wednesday dawned like the rest of the week - cool and crisp, refreshing to some, irritating to others. A belly full of pancakes soon got everyone's motor running and we hustled off to Maligne Lake fo a day of hiking, boating and wildlife watching.
Not long after passing the Maligne Canyon turnoff, we ran into our first 'bear jam'. We found a suitable place on the side of the road with the other gawkers and took in the rather adorable sight of a mother black bear and two cubs trundling along the treeline at the top of a small ridge next to the highway. Because the cubs were still quite small, we only saw glimpses as the ducked in and out of the trees and shrubs. They were definitely cute, though, like really little people in very fuzzy pajamas.
We worked our way out of the jam and continued out toward the lake. We passed the beautiful sight of Medicine Lake, where Jul, playing his common role of nature guide/knower of all things wild and wonderful (no kidding - for all Adele's questions about the great wilderness around us, there was only one reply - 'Ask Uncle Jul'), informed us of the fun fact that the rather large lake in front of us reduced down to only a trickle of a stream in the autumn.
We left Medicine Lake behind and soon got to Maligne Lake. We saw trout swimming and jumping in one of the outlet streams, and a friendly cowbird posed for Fiona. We started on a quick jaunt down a lakeside path, but were soon heading in the other direction as our stomachs told us that the pancakes were gone and new sustenance was required. Showing no fear of the tourist trap prices, we marched into the lodge beside the lake and were kindly treated to lunch by Hanneke and Jul. They had decent beef stew, good soup and chili and a fine collection of sweets that went over well with our crowd. In keeping with his scientific duties, Jul even took time out to show that the well-known hypothesis that you should never eat anything bigger than your own head did not apply to chocolate chip cookies.
Appetites sated once again, we convened on the patio of the lodge to determine what was next for the day - a hike into the hills, canoeing on the lake, a trip to Spirit Island? Ten minutes later we were all back in the cars, heading back towards Jasper. Some would argue this was due to the light rain and ugly clouds starting to obscure the hills. It certainly was not for fear of a gruelling hike and vigorous exercise, because that afternoon we undertook perhaps the most difficult hike in all of Jasper National Park. Only a couple of kilometers long, without any large changes in elevation, it has deceived many and turned quick little 30 minute hikes into long, hard slogs stretching into hours - Connaught Drive. Otherwise known as Main Street Jasper. Somehow we managed to burn an entire afternoon walking up and down the main drag of this sleepy little village. There were some important finds, however - Adele got her snow globe, fresh, cold beer was purchased, we all got kudos on our wine selecting ability (yay, glam-ping!), further appreciation was gained for the stunning beauty of Leona Amman's art, and I learned that my little niece could eat two entire bags of flavoured popcorn and still have room for dinner.
Although thoroughly exhausted from the long trek up and down Connaught, we dove right into making dinner. The excitement of 'Bratwurst Night' gave us wings. A fire was made and the brats were cooked. We served them on fresh buns with pickles, onions and mustard. Even for non-sausage fans (you will remain unidentified), they were a hit. Was it the cinnamon, or the lemon peel, or just the extra care and attention that comes with hand-crafted sausage from highly skilled artisans? We'll never know, but I'm sure it was the latter.
The evening progressed as the others have - more badminton, more new methods for getting badminton birdies out of trees (or badminton raquets stuck in them), another round of Tick, and a fairly early bedtime as the clouds cleared and we came full circle to a cool, crisp darkness.
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