The Great Canadian Epic, Part 3: Prairies and Mountains

Aaah, the wide open spaces of the Canadian prairies.  Everywhere you look from the train, you see the appurtenances of farming: the broad fields, the lines of trees serving as windbreaks, the steel sheds housing farm equipment, the irrigation hoses and sprinklers, the huge grain elevators.  The landscape is a patchwork of green, yellow, beige, and brown, depending on which crops are being grown (or not) in each big square field.  

There’s a popular impression among many people that the prairies are as flat as a billiard table.  As the old saying goes, if you stood on a gopher hill you could see all the way to China.  This is not true.  The area around Winnipeg and westward as far as Portage la Prairie conforms to that stereotype, but generally the land shapes itself into long rolling slopes which gradually climb up to meet the sky somewhere off in the middle distance.  The vast surface of the prairie is also carved by the valleys of rivers and streams, and speckled with salty ponds and pools known as sloughs. 

Take the region as a whole from east to west, and it actually consists of a series of three broad steps rising towards the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. 

It takes a bit of time to get used to Prairie towns and cities too.  Given the vast amount of open space available, towns were laid out on a wide scale with broad streets and with the railway station always near the centre of town.  A central feature of every old prairie town was the classic grain elevator, next to the railway tracks, and a few of the old traditional style elevators can still be seen.

 So, as we rolled west away from Winnipeg the track was dead straight and dead level and we moved right along at a good fast clip.  The line passed just north of Brandon and then the country began getting hillier, until we were actually climbing a distinct grade that slowed the train down noticeably.  The hills rose around us, looking reminiscent of Scotland with plenty of trees and grass added.  At the same time we collected a hearty little rain shower lasting perhaps 20 minutes (hence the splotches on the window). 

Across that height of land we dropped back down for a while, but then began climbing again until we were running high up on the north side of the Assiniboine River valley with its distinctively flat skyline at the top.   As soon as we levelled out at the summit we were back on more-or-less level prairie again.  And that was the first of the big steps (the second one passed during the night).

The following morning I was up very early (the time changes were getting me farther and farther ahead of normal clock time) and into the dome car where a welcome early cup of coffee woke me up enough to get some lovely photos of the prairie sunrise. 

The Skyline activity and dome cars have 24-hour coffee and tea on tap, with fruit and light snacks such as cookies.  No hurry, because the train was an hour and a half late getting into Edmonton.  These things happen, and any passenger on The Canadian needs to feel ready to roll with it.  At Edmonton, the train has to back into the station on its dead-end track.  Here, the Panorama full-length dome car has to be added.

Meanwhile, baggage has to be taken off and more baggage loaded in.  Then passengers have to be boarded or reboarded.  It’s a wonder that the crew managed all that in just under an hour (it’s scheduled to take an hour and a quarter).

Unlike, say, the Front Ranges of Colorado, the transition from prairie to mountains on this route is more subtle and takes longer.  It passes over the space of several hours while the dining car serves a leisurely brunch with open seating between 9:30 a.m. and 12:00 noon.  Hills gradually rise around the track, which is mainly through forest, and there follows a notable climb up to Obed Summit, west of the Saskatchewan River valley.  The train then drops down to cross the Athabasca River, and follows its broad mountain valley all the way to Jasper.  

As you would expect, the views are spectacular on both sides of the train, and the dome cars rapidly fill up – even on a day with clouds and rain like today.  But there were still seats in the domes for all who came.

Arrival in Jasper is in early afternoon.  People tend to think of Jasper as a resort, but its first and primary reason for existence is as a service centre for CN.  VIA Rail has a sizable presence here as well, with both the Canadian and the thrice-weekly Jasper-Prince Rupert train using the station.  It’s a beautiful old historic station building, right on the main street, and during the extended stopover here there’s time to get out and explore some of the shops and cafes which take up the street facing the station, and the street behind it.  Also Jasper is a very good place to shop for any important item you may have forgotten. 

I certainly took good advantage of the clear but cool walking weather, as the sun had begun to peep from between the clouds.  The first snow of the coming winter gleamed on the surrounding mountains, and the air certainly had an autumn-like feel to it.  But this can happen at any time of the year in a mountain resort town well over a thousand metres above sea level.  I’ll be stopping here for three days on the return trip, and will give a more detailed rundown on Jasper at that time.

Because the Yellowhead Pass is at such a low altitude, there is almost no climbing at all out of Jasper before reaching the summit of the pass, only a short distance west.  There then follows a long descent past the expanse of Yellowhead Lake and Moose Lake.

From there the train runs down the long grade above the rapids of the newborn Fraser River, a lusty and energetic baby if ever there was one. 

Not long after that, Mount Robson, the tallest peak in the Canadian Rocky Mountains, looms into view on the right and to the rear.  Those of us seated at the back of the Skyline dome were perfectly placed for pictures, not least as we continued down the track, with the mountain sitting dead-centre behind the train.  Mount Robson's huge bulk is more than capable of generating its own weather.  I saw it full and clear in 2007 (see that picture here: Into the Mists: Canada's Pacific Northwest ) but I now think it looks even better with some weather in place.  It brings to mind that oh-so-evocative phrase from Shakespeare’s The Tempest:  “…the cloud-capped towers….”

Soon after that the train turns south into the Rocky Mountain Trench, and crosses that broad valley to climb over the Monashee Mountains and descend into the valley of the Thompson River.  This upper stretch of the Thompson valley is heavily forested.  Among the forest trees appears another scenic spectacle, Pyramid Falls (so called because of the shape of the waterfall).

This appears on the left during the evening and not long afterwards night descends.  Sadly, then, you miss the spectacular seared-desert scenery of the lower Thompson Canyon, and the steep mountain walls of the Fraser Canyon. 

Several of us lingered late in the dome, not anxious to leave.  You quickly form a special kind of partnership with your fellow passengers on a trip of this kind.  Part of this is because of the strongly international flavour of the train's population.  Within a small group of no more than 150 people (who shared my dining car and Skyline dome car), I met residents of several parts of Canada, a number of U.S. states (including New York, Maryland, Tennessee and Texas among others), Britain, Germany, Denmark, Australia, Japan, China -- and I'm sure I've forgotten a few.  As one of the group, Sarah (from Australia), observed on the last day, our varied stories were an important part of the total experience we all shared.

We dedicated dome sitters were of course a smaller, closer group.  Our little fellowship was certainly fostered by Hollie, the attendant in charge of the Skyline activity/lounge/scenic dome car during the second half of the trip.  With her flamboyant sense of humour, her great knowledge of the route, her willingness to answer and ask questions, and above all her energetic hospitality, she made the Skyline into a delightful place that rang with laughter and made people want to hang out there, and help each other get the best pictures they could. 

If you (like me) are an early riser, you make it back to the dome car by 5:45 a.m. with an early cup of coffee while the train is stopped at Hope and get some more pictures of mountain scenery and a final gorgeous sunrise before going for the last breakfast of the trip.  In fact, several of us were in the dome before 6:00 a.m. and witnessed the unforgettable sight of a sunrise over the mountains.

The train, ahead of time at last, rolled into Pacific Central Station at 9:00 a.m., forty minutes early. It says a lot for the special quality of the experience that people lingered, still chatting, in the station, reluctant to break the bonds we’d formed until it was time to pick up our bags and go our separate ways. 

Coming up in the next post, some scenery and other delights of Vancouver.