Hilary on Whitehorse Mountain
Banff / Lake Louise, Canadian Rockies
This print’s source is quite age faded. So is my old enlargement, and I presume the 35mm original is too. The deep “half” of the picture, Lake Louise and its twenty-one ambient glaciers have “evaporated.” So here’s a separate view of the famous background, much closer up and much lower down:
Hilary and I were driving across the Trans-Canadian en route to visiting Robert Taft Olmstead and Chris VonSalza in Berkeley. By Hilary’s ankle, faded or not, you can see the top of the Whitehorse Mountain ski lift. Just after snapping this photo, the camera banging me in the teeth despite its harness, I scrambled up to the summit. By Jesus, the east side of the mountain was likewise a string of spectacular glaciers. I “skied” them in nothing but my climbing boots! Ah!
I’ve told others about that but I bet I never told Hilary. If I had fallen off the backside of the mountain, it would have been hard to find me: if she’d wanted to bother to send anybody looking. But I’m still at it: yesterday I kayaked, then waded, then walked, then waded into a fairly unreachable, nearly virgin lake, caught one bass, and returned, somehow in one piece.