We got on again in economy class, to hear an attendant bray over the intercom:
“If you consume any alcohol you didn’t purchase, that’s an instant ticket off
the train!” Joan and I wondered how we’d fare in the wilderness, with
a hundred mile hike to Prince Rupert... Perhaps they’d give us water?
Once again, we were overwhelmed by the colouring – not the crimson
of the Quebec maple, but a vast range of yellows
that speak to the wonders of creation.
Most of the morning we followed a variety of river valleys, tributaries
of the Fraser, while we dove through heavy spruce woods.
But calm waters mirrored the stiff tall spindly trees.
Fraser Lake is the white swan capital: thousands of
trumpeter swans stop here.
When we got to Fort Fraser (elev. 2,250) the train stopped to give coffees
to some bikers. Typical Viarail hospitality!
We stopped at Burns Lake to allow five minutes for smokers, and entrain
new travellers. Did you know that the train whistle, long-long-short-long
is the morse code for Q? And Q was the flag signal
in the British Navy for danger!
in the British Navy for danger!
As we dropped in elevation toward Prince Rupert on the coast,
green began to dominate the dazzling yellows.
We stopped at a small station, Smithers, where I was sorry to see an elderly
white-haired little lady try to step down, But only a little blood was spilt.
My first ViaRail accident, and I’m sure, a rare occurrence.
Then we followed the Skeena River gorge — obvious to me now why Viarail
named our train after this natural splendour encased in the vivid almost
wild yellows of its enshrouding forest. Slowly it grows placid, and flows as our
companion for another 175 miles. And once more, just when the farmlands
seem to have calmed us down, the giant hills erupted victoriously around us,
cloud-swilled peaks that might make even the Alps jealous.
We follow the Skeena for 175 miles!
And as dusk begins to drop, we see more vast peaks, wrapped in cotton-wool
clouds like giant babies, chuckle as they watch, in the flat-flowing Skeena,
black bears romping and scarfing their mouthfuls of dying salmon.
Finally, after dark, we arrived at Prince Rupert, our final destination! We had
crossed the entire country, as I said before, a mare usque ad mare,
on a great Viarail expedition — the one trip everyone MUST take once in their
lives. The Canadian is indeed the valued flagship of our
national passenger rail system. “Fom sea even unto sea”
And as sunset starts to fall, we see more wide mountains, covered in cotton-wool
ReplyDeleteclouds like massive children, have a good laugh as they observe, in the flat-flowing Skeena,
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