April 2017 Elkwater Outing

I wrote this a while ago, but it keeps being true:

A drive east out of my home town of Medicine Hat, about 20 minutes past nothing at all, and about 20 minutes before Saskatchewan where the nothingness is exaggerated even further, there is a hard right turn up the steepest hill around. It’s not actually very steep, but to its surroundings it’s a mountain. Large trucks have to get a head start - charging at the bottom and dying out exhausted towards the top - and everyone’s gears have to get a little lower. Once up this hill, the road flattens out but not quite completely, though it looks like it does. But it’s an illusion. And in an automatic vehicle, the gas pedal tells the truth. Drivers have to compress it lower than they’re used to. There are no shoulders on this highway and it looks like any other prairie road, drifting past farms and cows and fields. But it takes more work to drive on it. And these familiar prairie sights gradually take on a greener, livelier, and more luscious look. It’s like driving towards to the source of life.

Another 20 minutes on this road is a gradual climb up the highest altitude anywhere on the prairies. At the end of the road is Cypress Hills interprovincial park. It lies on the border between Alberta and Saskatchewan and it’s the only area on the prairies that wasn’t scraped away by glaciers. It looks as though all the glaciers ran into each other there and pushed together everything they were pushing and piled their loads on top of each other and then died. And it seems like they stashed their loads underneath what was already there, like a bump under a rug. The hills retain an outer layer of ancient forests and overlook beautiful lakes - perhaps the decomposing bodies of those long-dead glaciers.

This has always been a favorite place of mine and our family has been visiting it regularly my whole life. Day trips, scout camps, work retreats, dates, ski trips, family vacations, church activities, adventure races, parties. All found an ideal setting in those hills. My dad even took me and my brother camping with two other boys who we were never very close with. I don’t remember how the arrangement was made, but I think we loved the place so much that we figured we would bring whoever was available.

I had taken Harry there a few times before this summer. Once was in the winter when I forgot the park gets twice as much snow as the city. He had fallen asleep in the car and I realized my mistake and turned around and headed home before he could wake up. The other times he was too young to appreciate it. But this summer I took him once by myself and once with the whole family.

We didn’t have a video camera when I was growing up, but my dad sometimes borrowed one from work. He’d pop in a VHS and prop the camera on his shoulder and ask us to do things we didn’t want to do. Our family video vault contains a lot of footage of grumpy little boys telling the camera to go away. But sometimes we would be in the mood to show off, and I now recognize the tone of my dad’s voice that he would use to tell us how great we are at spinning in circles or how funny our jokes are. It’s the same tone I now use to tell Harry how interesting the rocks and sticks are that he shows me. We now have a GoPro camera that’s about the size of two ice cubes, and I bet that tone is captured for another generation. There is one memorable scene on an old family VHS of my brother and I playing on a playground and walking down a path in Cypress Hills, wearing neon sweatpants and sweatshirts, singing the Ninja Turtles theme song. This summer we took some footage of Harry playing on that playground and walking on that path and it probably caught me laughing at his jokes and being impressed by his ability to stand at the top of the playground.

The hills were formed by millions of years of erosion and sedimentary deposition. And an archeological dig near the townsite revealed human inhabitation of the hills for more than 8,500 years. Families have been a part of those hills for thousands of years, and I think this summer we preserved them for another generation.

UPDATE

This family is now deeply etched into the hills. The boy has been many times now and the Pud is starting to get the hang of things, though she spends more time in my arms than on her feet. The dude has expanded his abilities so that I am genuinely impressed, and the fake enthusiasm is a lot less fake, as I'd much rather see his favourite sticks and rocks and leaves than his favourite TV shows or iPad games.

We're lucky to have such a place nearby - a place to be in the wild and to be a little wild. I'm sure I'll return to this topic many times.

A Life Well Lived

I thought I would do some work on the couch with the ottoman as my desk, but the dog jumped up and stretched out across my papers and licked my wrists as I wrote. He’s lonely and misses his little friends and doesn’t stop staring at me as if to say ‘bring them back, I’m sick of you’. Ashley and the kids are away for a few days. I think most parents have times when they’re with their kids but wish they weren’t - just for a little while, just to have a break, some space, some air. I get that opportunity every once in a while when Ashley takes the kids to Alberta to visit family and I have to stay here to go to school or write exams. The thought of a break always sounds good on paper - sleeping through the night, not having to sleep next to a spooked and snoring toddler or give up my spot in bed for him and sleep downstairs, doing whatever I want once my work is done for the day. But I find that ‘whatever I want’ is actually to spend time with my family and I miss them more than I enjoy the break. Yes, it is nice to take the dog for long outings, watch movies Ashley doesn’t want to see, and read and write and work without distraction. But the dog doesn’t talk or seem to like my jokes or build forts or giggle or dance or inconspicuously take off his diaper or make up obnoxious songs or tie things up and create spaceships. He’s a good friend and he’ll do for now, but I want my people to come home.

Last night I was a little lonely and, I guess, wanted to make it worse and so went through some photos and read some things I’d written about our family. It did make me miss them more, but it also made me glad I had the pictures and the words. And so I thought it would be nice to get more active in collecting those memories.

The five of us (the dog too) share a common interest that has become an important part of our family life. We all seem to come alive when we’re outside. It seems to heal bad moods - for all of us, but especially the younger ones (the dog too) - clear our minds, reset our clocks, and refresh our souls. Adventure and outings have been part of our life since Harry was very young, and I thought that making them the theme of this journal would provide an extra incentive to continue to make it a priority.

I don’t think any of us is on the level of an Everest veteran in terms of outdoor enthusiasm, but this very inspiring video does a great job of explaining the lure the outdoors has had on our family. We feel that making the outdoors part of our family life has been an effort well worth making and we plan on continuing to do so.

 
A Life Well Lived | Jim Whittaker & 50 Years of Everest from eric becker on Vimeo.


PS. I'll also write about other things. I mostly just want a record of our family life. Outside is an important theme, but there are other things too.