July 26 - Scents of Summer

Summer is a good season for me. Like many people, I enjoy the warmth of the days and the long evenings, but for me the season is good in other ways as well. In summer, I am far more aware of scents and sounds when I am outside. In winter, the snow muffles sound, and my nose is often too cold to pick up much scent in the frosty air.

Lyle and I often walk on a particular trail by the Battle River. Earlier this summer as we were walking, we came across an area with a proliferation of sage bushes. The scent was cloying and almost overwhelming but I loved it.  For the next few weeks when we walked, I knew exactly where we were on the trail when we came to the sage.

This past week or so we have been walking on a different section of the trail. A new scent has been assailing my senses. With the passing of the season, the clover in the field has blossomed. The scent is sweet and distinctive. Again, when we come across it, I know precisely where I am, how far we have come and how far we have yet to walk.

I am looking forward to the latter part of the summer when the cranberries will be ready for picking. I can’t see the little red berries, but I know that I will be able to point out the bushes as we walk. Ripe cranberries have their own particular scent.

There are many scents associated with summer. I like the smell of newly cut grass and the fresh scent of approaching rain. I like being in a campground and smelling the burning wood and aromas from the various meal preparations. I like walking beside outdoor cafes with the pungent aroma of newly brewed coffee.  I wouldn’t say that my sense of smell is any better now than when I could see, but possibly I am more aware and alert to the information it gives me.

The picture that follows is of a small section of the growing clover. The tall greenish yellow shoots are almost shoulder high and there are small purple blossoms in the foreground.

Clover in a field

July 18 - Maclean’s Magazine re Alberta Flood

There have been numerous pictures with glimpses of the devastation reeked by the recent floods in southern Alberta. It wasn’t too long before Maclean’s Magazine put together a comprehensive collection with accompanying text. I was surprised when several friends contacted me to say that my own picture was in the collection. (See Maclean’s Magazine, The Great Alberta Flood,  June 2013, page 45.)

Many thanks to Cheryl and Carolyn who noticed my picture among the many that were featured in this special Maclean’s issue.  The aerial photographs are quite amazing and the special Maclean’s issue is certainly a keepsake of this tumultuous time in the province’s history.

Now, I hadn’t seen the special edition until today, and although the picture itself is very clear, I was curious about the caption, which appeared below it. It read:

Military escort: Troops assist special needs people after they were flown out from the William Watson Lodge to an evacuation site in Kananaskis.

I have never really thought of myself as a person with special needs. Sometimes I describe myself as visually impaired, sometimes as legally blind and sometimes as partially sighted. Sometimes I might just say that I don’t see very well, although this is a bit of an understatement. Still, when all is said and done, I suppose that I do have some special needs.

I use a white cane or the services of a sighted guide in order to get around safely.  I use an audible screen reading program on my computer.  I enjoy hearing descriptions of things in the visual world – things that I can’t see for myself. So, I suppose that I do have some “special needs”, but it was a surprise to come across those words in print. Personally, I like to think of myself as being fairly independent. I know that Lyle dislikes being referred to as my “attendant” or “care giver”. In fact, I have heard him correct the speaker, saying that he is my husband.

Then again, perhaps we are just being overly sensitive. I try to remind myself that most people just want to be helpful. I try not to let mere words define who I am. 

July 13 - Aftermath in Kananaskis

After seventeen days, Lyle and I have finally been able to pick up our motor home. The retrieval process was done in a series of convoys organized by Kananaskis Parks staff. We joined the convoy that was organized for this past Tuesday.

The first temporary bridge we crossed was only a short distance from Highway 1. The bridge had been built up at a very steep incline.  My thought was that at the onset of the rain and melting snow the little creek beneath the original bridge had likely increased in volume to a raging torrent, thus forcing the reconstruction with its additional height.

From this point we drove on to Wedge Ponds, where we were to meet up with the convoy which would take us further south into the valley.  The sun was shining, the sky was blue and at first it was difficult to imagine the devastation that lurked behind the trees, but we knew it was there because we had seen it all when we were evacuated in the helicopter. However, it was only after we came across the other road washouts that we fully realized the force of the water that had come rushing down the sides of the mountains.

I know that I couldn’t see all that Lyle was describing to me but what I did see was quite incredible. Lyle could see huge logs and whole trees washed into small lakes and pools of water. He could see mounds of silt and dirt along the side of the road. On the high mountains he could see the bare ground where the melting water had made tracks through the alpine snow. Close up, I could see the wide bands of gravel where once there had been narrow creeks flowing gently through the trees. Now, even just over two weeks after the storm, the water continued to rush down the mountain slopes.

There were three major washouts. Construction workers were diligently propping up road structures and repairing bridges. At one point, the ground beside the road seemed to drop vertically to the base of the valley. Above us was what looked like the remnants of an avalanche of gravel and debris.

The pictures we have taken don’t do justice to what we saw, but I will include them anyway.

The first picture shows our convoy heading down the highway. 

Convoy heading down Kananaskis highway

The second picture shows the wide swath cut by the flood of water washed down from the mountain top.

Devastation caused by flooded creek

The third picture shows some of the machines being used to repair the road damage.

Equipment working to clear highway

The fourth picture shows some of the silt and debris still lying on the roadside beside the guardrail.

Washout along highway guard rail

The fifth picture shows the convoy of cars waiting to cross the one-lane bridge.

Temporary one lane bridge

Apart from the clusters of highway workers and the occasional official vehicle, two weeks after the rains, everything was pretty quiet. This led to one positive note. We saw more deer than we have seen on any previous visit to the area. I guess that the wildlife were reclaiming their land.  Following is a picture of nine mountain sheep grazing at the side of the road.  

Mountain sheep enjoying the peace and quiet

While Lyle and I are very glad that we have our motor home back, we are still very aware of other people in southern Alberta who have not been as fortunate.  In contrast, our adventure, or perhaps I should say misadventure, was only a temporary inconvenience.  For many other people, the struggle to overcome disaster continues.

July 5 - William Watson Lodge

Before the floodwaters changed our holiday plans, I had meant to write about William Watson Lodge.  So, here is a little write up now. The lodge is in the southern part of the Kananaskis Valley in what is known as Peter Lougheed Park. The setting is quite beautiful, with views of both the mountains and the lake.

William Watson Lodge was especially designed to suit the needs of Albertans with disabilities and also senior citizens who reside in Alberta.  The facility has a large meeting room for day use. The room is set up with multiple chairs and small tables with an adjoining kitchen area. There are several nooks with comfortable chairs, a piano, book collection and fireplace.

For longer stays, there are twenty-two cabins arranged in clusters of two or three, and a campground with fourteen sites. All are accessible for wheelchair use. Each cabin has twin beds and bathrooms are set up for total accessibility. Fees are minimal but reservations are recommended, especially in the summer months.

All the trails are paved. This makes them great for walking, but they are also good for wheelchairs, strollers and bikes. The trail leading down to the lake is especially popular. Because the lodge is open year round, the trails can be used for cross-country skiing in the winter months. The paths are groomed for both a skier and an accompanying guide.

Universal design means universal access and it is this aspect of William Watson that I appreciate the most. The paths are even under my feet and my cane. There aren’t any unexpected steps or curbs. If the trail is beside a steep drop off (as in the case at the head of the path to the lake, there is a safety railing. At intersections of the different pathways, there are brightly painted yellow strips with tactile elevations or bubbles. It is an extraordinary place for someone with sight challenges. You might also be interested to learn that the manager of the lodge is blind, although this has nothing to do with his excellent management capabilities.

As I am writing this, the lodge is closed because of the recent heavy rains and road closures. I am sure that there are many disappointed campers. Until Highway 40 is reopened, the lodge will remain closed, but I do recommend it as something to include in your future plans. As an aside, I am also hopeful that we will soon be able to retrieve our motor home so that we can use it for the remainder of what is usually a very short summer season.