When I travel, the part that often agonizes me is when I have to fly over, as opposed to driving through, spectacular landscapes. Like last year when a blizzard forced me to cancel my driving from the heart of Vermont to central New York in early October, I was reduced to this dreadful silence, if not tears. I was lamenting such a loss for quite some time, quietly inside as a good Chinese would. What a great opportunity of great mountains, winding road and autumn colors, gone with the whistling wind literally, something that may or may never come around again in this life that yearns for beauty of its true form. Frustration almost over-spilled my eyelid had I been a tad younger and a little more tender. So you can imagine how charged up I was when we were set to drive the loop from Edmonton to Jasper to Banff and to Calgary then back.

We left Edmonton not particularly early in Tuesday morning but Canada always has light traffic. Maybe after residing in the San Francisco Bay Area for a few years, any traffic looks kind of light and offers no bother. The only problem was that I had a hard time restraining myself from speeding when I get a hundred acres of unoccupied asphalt in front of me. What a luxury!

The real luxury for the heart was those eyefuls of lush green, the soft Northern tender green in early August, ever-expanding prairies on which thousands upon thousands of horses could wallop through without even making an audible sound. It was that soft, that tender and that serene. In contrast, California is nice but all the wild grass turns ashy dry or golden-looking under the bright sun from distance (thus Golden State, I think) in the summer.

Looking out of the car window, our four year old insisted that the big and vigorous pine forests were "rain forest." Of course later he corrected himself "those are dry forest, you know." Dry forest was something he heard from his National Geographic video tapes perhaps, I could only guess. Whatever was in his little mind, those trees contribute a great deal of beauty and serenity to the landscape that is vast and open. Often a huge grove of pine and maple trees surround a big pond of water. There are quite a few sizable lakes in Alberta, Canada. Trees and calm water soothe the land as well as human spirit. The morning becomes pure romance in a carefree post-modern atmosphere. "Something remains eternal, fortunately," my mind was in a mumbling state as the car raced on. It's funny how human mind works, as this nice feeling resonated in the heart, the air seemed to become cleaner and fresher. Occasionally farm houses in their awkward and yet poetic colors bring picture upon picture of past, present, and future through the windshield.

Yes, as the car sped up to 80 miles per hour, unconsciously (cars don't think, you know), our primordial makeup deep in the id, if not in the heart, was greatly aroused, stroked and connected. Certain laughter is forever silent; some pain is eternally sharp. No drinks can bring that kind of sensation to a body or soul. Sometimes we wonder about the phrase Mother Nature and other times we just let her come to caress us in whichever way she prefers.

In Canada folks drive leisurely, even during work days and rush hours. Maybe Canada is more lawful than its neighbor down south. In a two lane highway, folks tend to use the right hand lane or the slower lane. The fast lane is reserved only for passing. Perhaps only those from the US clog the fast lanes.

We had lunch in a roadside eatery which serves great coffee. There folks and flies are the same friendly and chatty. And there seems to be less hostility or redneck rubbing in this part of the country. For a moment, I thought we were in paradise. For a tree like myself who grew up in a dry forest, I prefer paradise in the northern wilderness, as opposed to the tropical paradise like Hawaii. The air is less humid thus crisp and fresh. The mind becomes clear and cool and soul free to wonder. In paradise I didn't mind the stupid mosquitoes that take honest bites on sweet me. They probably took humans as cows. They probably love to feast on anything from California. Just kidding. They are really honest and slow. I could first spot them then move my body to coordinate a strike while they remained still to suck my delicious blood. Whack! Poor soul. See you in the mountains.

The mountains came, in dark blue. Apparently someone used a pair of scissors to cut those big patches of blue cloth or steel sheets and pasted them onto the sky. The August sky was so high and so blue as huge puffy clouds became lost just for fun up there. By contrast the mountains are silent, towering and cold. The excitement was felt in the sensation of a tremor that came on to me with no roar but profound depth. I remember someone commented that there is some genetic coding in Chinese intellectuals who are excitable among mountains and waters. I don't know I am qualified to be an intellectual in the traditional Chinese way but mountains of any shape and spirit instantly fill me up from head to toe. Every pore on my body was gasping for that invisible and incestuous caress. Bless me, you wild spirit. Here in the Northern Rockies I felt just like one of the Indian chiefs who plunged into death or sat on a rock to the final episode of this life, just to be with you. Just like them, I come with no tears. Happiness could also be rock solid and rock silent.

Jasper does not appear well developed as a tourist center of this magnitude. There are so many mountain or wilderness worshipers at this time of the year that every hotel was fully booked through the end of the summer. A small downtown was over-spilled with tourists, happy faces and content souls. People come from all over the world to be blessed; I only hope that they have a place to stay over night.

Along the road, folks stop their cars to take pictures of and with mountain goats, moose and elks. Sure, mountain goats by nature are jumpy and excitable. But those elks and moose could care less about clicking cameras or human smile. Maybe a century or two before, those wild beasts with exotic horns used to wallop around with their Indian chiefs whom they recognize as true friends. Now the chiefs have passed through and went afar, tears had been fossilized. Nothing could move the beasts. A mouthful of grass or leaves brings plenty of content and tranquility. Let the breeze seep through ... let the looks cast afar ... let the yearnings cascade ...

We spent an evening in the jammed Miette Hot Springs. Oh, so many people! All kinds of human shapes and their curvatures. Someone please draw a model human shape so that none of us would be lost at what we see. Would an elk become bewildered if s/he came here by accident and seeing all the strange human bodies in steamy water? How could I, if the occasion presents itself, explain to elks, moose and goats that the steamy water is not to cook them or anyone?

Soaking in a hot spring for a few hours is one of the best ways to go to bed. So we woke up pretty fresh next morning. Visiting hidden lakes, strange canyons and rowing the same style of kayak on the same peaceful water were all you had to do in the strong arms of the Northern Rockies.

The morning sun outlined the edges of the mountain peaks with striking clarity. Mountain peaks are as sharp as blades or machet-cut. Trees can't survive at those heights and harshness so the mountain tops are barren as the powder of the rocks is still grinding out by wind, by rain, by snow, by time and maybe by tears. Granite is one of the most solid rocks on the face of earth. But the grinding goes on. It must be very cold up there; it must be very lonely up there; and it must be very eternal up there. At least the mountain peaks appear they really enjoy being up there. They seem to want to ascend to a higher elevation rather than coming down to the mildness where humans and elks mill around. However, not every part of the rockiness want to go up, just like not every man or woman wants to be part of this wondrous creation that binds us and the mountains and elks together, there are boulders all over the valley. Giant rocks get split and cut into pieces all the time, not just once in a while, in silence because no human ear can detect their painful break-ups. If you stop to listen, you could hear the moaning and shouting in the wind, and the constant battle. If you stop, you have to hold your heart with a firm grasp.

After seeing Lake Pyramid, Lake Maligne, Lake Medicine and getting jammed out of the parking lot at Maligne Canyon, we were set to drive down the two lane Road 93, or more poetically, the Icefields Parkway, to Banff. There are many wonderful sights to be beheld if one has the appetite.

Another 3-5 hour drive from Jasper to Banff. Only the dullest mind would like to complain. There are great spots all along. One can hop out of the car virtually anywhere to enjoy a great view and a unique angle of mother nature's splendor. Spectacular ones are Athabasca Falls where one still could witness how the deep green water and yet unruly Athabasca River battles with His Rockiness, Athabasca and many other glaciers where, yes, you still can see the reserves of the ancient army that ground and molded many of our landscapes and our very own behavior and that of many wild creatures. A huge chunk of ice, in the size of a skyscraper in many ways, is hung up on top or between mountain shoulders, so pure and yet so crashingly threatening. There is Columbia Iceland, a huge chunk of glacier that lies so low that it is basically at the bottom of the Sunwapta Pass. Maybe the shadow of Mount Alberta is so long that it blesses this ancient wonder with peace and willfulness thus eternity.

Ah, Mount Alberta, souring up more than 10,000 feet into the heavens of pure blue, the highest peak of them of in the part of the Northern Rockies, may be the reason that this huge province of Canada got its name.

Everyone told us not to miss Lake Louise. Maybe that was why we missed. The driver, that was myself, was too tired from this stop and go routine, and the reigning emperor, our four year old, fell in sleep. We marched on and got to Banff late in the afternoon.

Compared with Jasper, Banff is well developed with nice hotels and a rustling downtown. Still we were told that the Canadian government restricts further development of this pearl-in-the-rockies in order to preserve the natural sights and habitat. Banff, some 300 kilometers down south of Jasper, was warm and prosperous. It was nice to realize that the beef house in town dishes out an honest meal to everyone, not as expensive as your typical tourist town. Then another soak in the hot spring just outside of the town was perfect to slow down the mind and lure the body to sleep.

Next morning, we were ready to drive back to Edmonton via Calgary, another five hours of straight shot. But Banff is cozy and many of its small shops are so cute that we virtually blew off the whole morning shopping, though we didn't buy much. Stuff there is inexpensive and has wonderful local flavor. Only instincts told us not to fall for tourist attraction. We were tourists, for crying out loud. Still the weather was great and the time was fun.

I love the drive out of the mountains, onto the prairie, into a city that was Calgary. Calgary and Edmonton are clean and vigorous. Each has the population close to one million. It's amazing because of their extremely high altitude. If this global warming business keeps on flourishing, Edmonton could be the next Miami for retirement. You never know.

We had some time to get into the world's largest indoor mall, the West Edmonton Shopping Mall. Eight hundred shops and a few indoor amusement parks all together. It took a healthy person a day's hard work just to walk through. Of course we enjoyed the casual walk around in the city's recreation center. As the Chinese say, mountains and waters make good sights. As the amazingly clean and lusty Saskatchewan River races through the city, romance and good life are a given.

August, 1998