A little bit of everything presented itself on this leg.

Leaving Dawson Creek, its industrial non-splendor faded quickly as we headed southeast on Canada 2. We consciously relaxed as the bustling town receded behind us. The land was still civilized, but in a more civilized way, so to speak.

This roadway was in place long before the Alcan was built; it’s a primary corridor to Grand Prairie and, eventually, Edmonton. We were entering the prairies, and the land and highway straightened in unison. Farm country, big fields, giant rolls of hay.

Farm country has the potential to be boring – but not when creative small towns like Beaverlodge make their bid for the traveler’s attention. My friend Chuck seeks out the “biggest” stuff around – Chuck, is this one of them?

 

For REAL entertainment though, the new Dinosaur Museum is a must-see. We had heard about it, and it was going to open in late September, which meant we’d have to miss it. But fortunately, the Museum opened a little early and we could get in.

What a treat it was. The creators have made a wonderfully diverse set of displays, placards, mounts, videos, and interpretive exhibits that will find favor with any member of the family, old or young.

We were especially impressed by the creative use of modern video technology, including touch-screen interactive displays. We also liked the layout of the place, with curving, non-rectilinear spaces at multiple levels. Just when we thought we’d “been there”, another room or view opened up.

I captured a few highlights to show you the substance of the place – but you have to be there to appreciate the real depth. Plan on a couple of hours at least if you go.

Big, beautiful wall-high murals back up the solid exhibits, so you can see the animal behind the skeleton.

Very few dusty old display cases. The emphasis is on interactive, see-and-touch wherever possible. You can run your hand along a mastodon tusk – – –

– – – spin the wheels of an oil well-head valve – – –

– – – assemble a dinosaur skeleton puzzle on a video-game platform – – –

– – – use a microscope to look at bone fragments, shark’s teeth, and dinosaur claws – – –

– – – or touch-and-feel any number of other exhibits and displays.

Some of the displays you can’t even reach, let alone touch, such as these hanging skeletons – these are for oohing and aahing.

Vibrant, state-of-the-art live digital displays continually change images in some of the wall spaces.

Outside, there’s even a spiffy playground for the little ones who get tired of dinosaurs.

There’s a lot more, including a fantastic hand-controlled display of 450 million years of plate tectonics. Spin the knob and watch the continents drift and merge. Form the Himalayas with your own fingers. I did.

Seeing the museum was a real treat. Just a bit further down the road was Grande Prairie. It lives up to its namesake. If Dorothy were there, she’d feel right at home, far away from Kansas. And it was a genuine Big Town relative to what we’d been experiencing. It had all the usual trappings – – – big highways, big stores, big traffic.

We had done all of our necessary gassing, watering, and shopping. We passed on by as soon as the stoplights would allow, and turned south on Highway 40 (the Bighorn Highway). Outside-of-town happens quickly in western Canada, and we were soon in farm country again.

But the fields didn’t stay flat or tilled for very long. Highway 40 slants back into the foothills of the Rockies, and the terrain and road start to roll almost immediately.

We know there’s wildlife around, and sometimes we see it in unexpected ways – like these ravens and this moose.

Sometimes it’s easy to think of Alberta as an industrial province. The marks of oil, gas, and power are everywhere to be found. Power line and pipeline tracks are everywhere.

There’s an active coal mine (no kidding) alongside Highway 40. But the easy pricing on gas and oil has it at 1/4 operational strength.

But truth be told, there’s beauty to be found even in a coal mine. And there’s a lot of wild country in-between. Just when we thought we’d been a bit too human-influenced, we’d find something as cool as the rivers confluence at Sulphur Gates.

One of the purest joys of traveling is when something totally serendipitous happens. While we were at Sulphur Gates, we crossed hikes with Mark, a local guy who was out strolling for peace and photos. After chatting for a while, Mark generously offered us a flat spot near his horse barn to park Howie for the night. We gratefully accepted, and followed Mark’s big pickup just past Grande Cache and up a dirt road to his man-lair. What a courteous gent, he even built a fire for us.  (He’s in disguise in this photo – oil field work won’t allow him to keep the beard, ‘cause you can’t wear an H2S mask and have it seal safely.)

We talked a bit more, hooked up on Facebook, and Mark went off to get ready for a business trip while we plunked down for the evening. Thanks Mark, we had a really peaceful time.

Next morning, Karin took a bucket of horse treats that Mark had left her, and made friends with the equine crowd. Along with Mark’s generosity came a bucket-load of great weather, sunshine and 70F. Pretty fine for us California types.

 We gassed up and headed again southward on Highway 40. This time, the “industry” was logging. Everywhere was evidence of forest-harvesting and re-planting. Most of it was anything but aesthetic – but my guess is that lumber companies don’t care what it looks like, just as long as they can grow some more trees and cut them down later on. I won’t pretend to guess about motivations or economics, but I can certainly register my opinion about how ugly this kind of lumbering makes the land. They know it, too, because usually they hide it with a screen of un-touched trees.

Here’s a prettier approach. Still opens up the forest floor for new growth and browse too. Can it be done cost-effectively? I don’t know. Is it a “better” forest? I don’t know that either.

Clear-cuts are everywhere for many miles. They look better from a distance – – –

But eventually we hit the Willmore Wilderness, above and adjoining Jasper National Park. The forest and land become whole again.

We make a quick stop at the visitor center, and pick out a camp site at the bottom of Jarvis Lake. It’s a really nice place to settle in and enjoy forest, sky, water, and the beauty that Nature bestows on us.

Of course we couldn’t resist an afternoon kayak around the beautifully clear lake. Howie was peeking out through the trees at us from our lake-side camp site as we paddled away.

Couple of guys were out canoeing/fishing, made for a pretty shot.

Tomorrow we’re headed into Jasper National Park. We know it’s pretty, and we’ve heard it’s busy. We’re hoping for the best of all of it.