Day Three: The Prairies
By morning, we were well into prairie country, with a full crew change. Don’t let anyone tell you that the prairies are boring terrain, because they do have their own distinct appeal. Being as early in the season as it was, the fields were a combination of last year’s stubble and the beginning of this year’s crop, in a beige and green salt-and-pepper effect. Towns here are little more than a grain elevator or a water tower; the area is marked by many abandoned farmsteads falling picturesquely into ruin. Farming now is on a more industrial scale, and has no need of the homestead farmers who once tilled the land. Saskatchewan is big sky country, with billowy clouds in the ice blue skies stretching into forever. The town names emblazoned on grain elevators are in alphabetical order from east to west, and then once z was reached, they started all over again with a. Biggar is the b town in that second strip, famous for its slogan: “New York is big, but we are Biggar” and for the fact that it marks the time zone change from Central to Mountain time, with one side of the now-derelict station in the Central zone and the other an hour earlier.
The prairies are clearly fertile farmland, and by late afternoon we were in gently rolling hill country that reminded me of parts of England, with lush green meadows framed by darker hedgerows. Saskatoon as seen from the train is just a wide spot in the road, with a modern generic station. Edmonton, though, is a real metropolis, but since we reached it well after dark, I have nothing to say about it.
Day Four: Mountains and gorges
I woke up around three thirty, when it was just dimly getting to barely-light. Out the window, the prairies had given way to mountains, barely visible as we rolled past. As it slowly got light, it was clear that the topography had changed completely. We were now in evergreen forests, under a thick blanket of grey clouds. Foothills of mountains were visible, but not the mountains themselves. We pulled into Jasper at about 5:30. This is the scenery that we have been anxiously awaiting, and a number of passengers were already up and dressed and plying themselves with coffee in the Park Car lounge awaiting our stop in Jasper. By that time, it was fully light, but being 5:30, the town was buttoned up tight. We wandered around the town for a bit, snapping photos of the shuttered shops and the nearby mountains. Once we reboarded, it was time to pick our seats in the dome car for the Rockies. Even the most blasé passenger had to acknowledge the splendor of this territory. Snowcapped peaks, mountainsides scarred by evidence of avalanches gone by, pristine mountain lakes reflecting the scenes, and rushing white-water streams—this is the Rockies that sells the Canadian. Again, the best photos were out the back window of the Park Car, particularly of Mount Robson, highest of the peaks. As is often the case in the mountains, the early clouds burned off by breakfast time to reveal the glory of the mountain terrain. The train slowed as we passed by Pyramid Falls to allow picture-taking, but since it wasn’t in the sun, those pictures were disappointing in contrast to the ones we had taken earlier.
Our concierge let the breakfast crew know that we’d be late to breakfast. It was totally worth it. After breakfast, the high Rockies dwindled into the foothills country. We saw elk, too briefly to photograph, and mountain sheep, who obediently posed for pictures from a distance. Slowly the landscape began to change from the evergreen hills to a starker and drier land. We were bearing down on Kamloops, just in time for lunch. What a change in climate! Jasper was decidedly chilly and dampish, whereas Kamloops was hot, sunny, and dry. Just a few hours ago I had been rummaging through my bag for a jacket; here I was fumbling in my toiletries for sunscreen.
From Kamloops onward, we entered the Thompson River and Fraser River Gorges. And, they are indeed gorgeous. Perhaps even more so than the Rockies, I think. Scrubby sage vegetation clings to sheer rocky outcroppings. It looks more like the desert Southwest than like one imagines Canada. (And, in fact, it is the only desert within Canada’s borders.) The railroad had to be carved out of steep cliffs with sheer drops down to the river. In fact, it happened twice—on one side by the Canadian Pacific and on the other by the Canadian National. These days, the Canadian uses both routes, depending on whether it is going eastward or westward. Freight traffic, too, uses one side or the other because sidings here for passing would be impossible. The dining car staff held our dinner reservations till after we’d gone by Hell’s Gate, a narrow channel in the river marked by wild and high water. This high desert scenery, so breathtaking beautiful, was an unexpected treat. Assuming that the Canadian had been running on time, this entire section would be traversed in darkness. Though now, with the new schedule, assuming it is followed (okay, big assumption, but let’s make it), it will be in daylight. It will become as justly renowned as the Rockies in the future, I’m sure.
By the time we got to the Coastal Range east of Vancouver, it was dark. We arrived in Vancouver about 10 pm, about 12 hours late. But since we’d left Toronto about 10 hours late, we hadn’t really lost much additional time, despite the frequent timeouts in railway sidings waiting for freight trains to go by us.
Overall, we really have nothing bad to say about our experience on the Canadian, except for the hole it blew in our budget, perhaps. We already had taken into account that we’d likely be late, possibly even extremely late, so we’d made plans with that in mind. For example, we booked a hotel for two nights in Vancouver and emailed them well in advance to say that we might be arriving very late on the first night, or even possibly not till the second day, but that if we missed the first night, not to cancel our booking as a no-show. We got a nice email back from the hotel agreeing to hold our room if need be, and apologizing that if we missed the first night entirely, they’d have to still charge us half of that night’s rate. (Actually, I think that was extremely generous and not anything I would have asked for.) Some of the other passengers had made tight onward bookings—despite the warnings on Via’s website not to do so—and as a result were anxious and failed to fully enjoy the trip due to worry about missed connections.
Wifi and cellphone coverage is limited only to the areas around major cities. Again, I was prepared for this, and actually thought of it as a plus, not a minus, to be able to unplug completely. Not everyone has that luxury, though. If you need to be in communication range for work, for medical issues for someone, etc., this train is not for you.
By morning, we were well into prairie country, with a full crew change. Don’t let anyone tell you that the prairies are boring terrain, because they do have their own distinct appeal. Being as early in the season as it was, the fields were a combination of last year’s stubble and the beginning of this year’s crop, in a beige and green salt-and-pepper effect. Towns here are little more than a grain elevator or a water tower; the area is marked by many abandoned farmsteads falling picturesquely into ruin. Farming now is on a more industrial scale, and has no need of the homestead farmers who once tilled the land. Saskatchewan is big sky country, with billowy clouds in the ice blue skies stretching into forever. The town names emblazoned on grain elevators are in alphabetical order from east to west, and then once z was reached, they started all over again with a. Biggar is the b town in that second strip, famous for its slogan: “New York is big, but we are Biggar” and for the fact that it marks the time zone change from Central to Mountain time, with one side of the now-derelict station in the Central zone and the other an hour earlier.
The prairies are clearly fertile farmland, and by late afternoon we were in gently rolling hill country that reminded me of parts of England, with lush green meadows framed by darker hedgerows. Saskatoon as seen from the train is just a wide spot in the road, with a modern generic station. Edmonton, though, is a real metropolis, but since we reached it well after dark, I have nothing to say about it.
Day Four: Mountains and gorges
I woke up around three thirty, when it was just dimly getting to barely-light. Out the window, the prairies had given way to mountains, barely visible as we rolled past. As it slowly got light, it was clear that the topography had changed completely. We were now in evergreen forests, under a thick blanket of grey clouds. Foothills of mountains were visible, but not the mountains themselves. We pulled into Jasper at about 5:30. This is the scenery that we have been anxiously awaiting, and a number of passengers were already up and dressed and plying themselves with coffee in the Park Car lounge awaiting our stop in Jasper. By that time, it was fully light, but being 5:30, the town was buttoned up tight. We wandered around the town for a bit, snapping photos of the shuttered shops and the nearby mountains. Once we reboarded, it was time to pick our seats in the dome car for the Rockies. Even the most blasé passenger had to acknowledge the splendor of this territory. Snowcapped peaks, mountainsides scarred by evidence of avalanches gone by, pristine mountain lakes reflecting the scenes, and rushing white-water streams—this is the Rockies that sells the Canadian. Again, the best photos were out the back window of the Park Car, particularly of Mount Robson, highest of the peaks. As is often the case in the mountains, the early clouds burned off by breakfast time to reveal the glory of the mountain terrain. The train slowed as we passed by Pyramid Falls to allow picture-taking, but since it wasn’t in the sun, those pictures were disappointing in contrast to the ones we had taken earlier.
Our concierge let the breakfast crew know that we’d be late to breakfast. It was totally worth it. After breakfast, the high Rockies dwindled into the foothills country. We saw elk, too briefly to photograph, and mountain sheep, who obediently posed for pictures from a distance. Slowly the landscape began to change from the evergreen hills to a starker and drier land. We were bearing down on Kamloops, just in time for lunch. What a change in climate! Jasper was decidedly chilly and dampish, whereas Kamloops was hot, sunny, and dry. Just a few hours ago I had been rummaging through my bag for a jacket; here I was fumbling in my toiletries for sunscreen.
From Kamloops onward, we entered the Thompson River and Fraser River Gorges. And, they are indeed gorgeous. Perhaps even more so than the Rockies, I think. Scrubby sage vegetation clings to sheer rocky outcroppings. It looks more like the desert Southwest than like one imagines Canada. (And, in fact, it is the only desert within Canada’s borders.) The railroad had to be carved out of steep cliffs with sheer drops down to the river. In fact, it happened twice—on one side by the Canadian Pacific and on the other by the Canadian National. These days, the Canadian uses both routes, depending on whether it is going eastward or westward. Freight traffic, too, uses one side or the other because sidings here for passing would be impossible. The dining car staff held our dinner reservations till after we’d gone by Hell’s Gate, a narrow channel in the river marked by wild and high water. This high desert scenery, so breathtaking beautiful, was an unexpected treat. Assuming that the Canadian had been running on time, this entire section would be traversed in darkness. Though now, with the new schedule, assuming it is followed (okay, big assumption, but let’s make it), it will be in daylight. It will become as justly renowned as the Rockies in the future, I’m sure.
By the time we got to the Coastal Range east of Vancouver, it was dark. We arrived in Vancouver about 10 pm, about 12 hours late. But since we’d left Toronto about 10 hours late, we hadn’t really lost much additional time, despite the frequent timeouts in railway sidings waiting for freight trains to go by us.
Overall, we really have nothing bad to say about our experience on the Canadian, except for the hole it blew in our budget, perhaps. We already had taken into account that we’d likely be late, possibly even extremely late, so we’d made plans with that in mind. For example, we booked a hotel for two nights in Vancouver and emailed them well in advance to say that we might be arriving very late on the first night, or even possibly not till the second day, but that if we missed the first night, not to cancel our booking as a no-show. We got a nice email back from the hotel agreeing to hold our room if need be, and apologizing that if we missed the first night entirely, they’d have to still charge us half of that night’s rate. (Actually, I think that was extremely generous and not anything I would have asked for.) Some of the other passengers had made tight onward bookings—despite the warnings on Via’s website not to do so—and as a result were anxious and failed to fully enjoy the trip due to worry about missed connections.
Wifi and cellphone coverage is limited only to the areas around major cities. Again, I was prepared for this, and actually thought of it as a plus, not a minus, to be able to unplug completely. Not everyone has that luxury, though. If you need to be in communication range for work, for medical issues for someone, etc., this train is not for you.
