Jasper: Day Three - C is for Coffee

MENU for CAMPING

The first order in the morning is strong COFFEE! perked on the campstove in my little espresso maker. Milk is heated in a saucepan. The fire is stoked and the beans are baked in the can. We eat as follows:

The 4 B's of camp food:

Beans.
Bacon.
Bagels.
Beer.

In the evenings we generally add steaks grilled with our dirty hands over the dirty grill. Primitive and intensely satisfying. But beer seems to be essential. The Clown learns the joy of Off Sales at the Athabasca Hotel in town. In England they call it "Take Out" but it is more expensive than the liquor store. But here, in Alberta, the proud tradition of Off Sales ensures that all can afford beer in their own back yard at a a reasonable price.

We climb another mountain: A Trail by Mount Edith Cavell, named after a heroic Belgian nurse who was executed by the Germans in WWI for helping soldiers escape. This mountain is not as high as the last one, but the rocky alpine meadows with their blooming Indian Paintbrushes and wild daisy like flowers can't help but make me feel like I'm in a scene from The Sound of Music, escaping over the Alps with nothing but a few granola bars, peanut butter, bagels, and 4 litres of water, which the Clown carries in a backpack. And good thing too - the 20 extra pounds slow him down to a decent pace. Otherwise, his Terminator-like steely determination would carry him to the top of the mountain while I was still tripping gaily among the woodsy foliage of the lower slopes. As it is, I think I acquit myself rather well. I never stop, I follow doggedly, I don't ask to pause until I see he wants to also. Then we pause for water. Take in the fresh-tasting silence of our new altitude.

In the car on the long drive, we play a game - 20 questions. I begin:
Is she living?
No.
Did she die in the first part of the century?
Yes.
Was she a nurse?
I don't know.
How can you not know?
I'm just not sure...
Is it Edith Cavell?
Yes!

And I'm happy.

N.