We were very excited turning up at Pacific Central station to catch our train to Jasper. This slightly tatty, semi-grand station is the departure point for the Via-Rail cross Canada trains. They are the last passenger service on the longest railway line in the New World. To go from the Pacific to the Atlantic requires a change in Toronto and a full 6 days, but the Vancouver-Toronto leg on its own takes the best part of 4 days of mountains and then a whole lot of prairie.
We had
economy class tickets for the first 22 scheduled hours of that journey, the
mountain route from the Pacific to the height of the Rockies at Jasper. Boarding
is more like jumping on a regional airline then catching your average commuter
train. Bags checked and scanned, called by class onto the platform. Once there
we were greeted by a shiny rimmed steel train stretching off into the distance.
It took us
the best part of 5 minutes to walk to cattle class, but even there we were
ushered on by a super-friendly stewardess. The whole crew were from Winnipeg
and proved to be approachable, welcoming and helpful. We were all stoked at the
prospect of the journey, the kids spilled on to the train, ran up the carriage
to find our seats and bounced around to the extent that a day’s ride seemed
potentially on the long side…
BETWEEN THE WOODS AND THE WATER
Pulling off
at 2pm, our progress through Vancouver was at a crawl though overgrown cuttings
and the back end of industrial estates. The first real views were saved for
crossing the wide, deep-brown Fraser River. The train then veered West with the
river and headed towards the hinterland.
We were
lucky, it was a clear day. While the kids settled down to their books and
activities, I stared out the window for hours, as suburbia gave way to country,
hills gave way to mountains and eventually to wilderness. We followed the Fraser
river long into the afternoon, increasingly along narrow escarpments, with long
drops down to the river below.
Occasionally
the mountains would open up, giving room for a bit of agriculture and a small
town, before closing again to steep river valleys and canyons. It was
fascinating to watch the different colours of rivers as they converged and
mixed. Emerald green or almost blue side streams would be devoured into swirly
brown as they entered the Fraser.
All around
were forests, cliffs and peaks. As we crossed the Fraser and headed beside the Thompson
river, the land took on a more arid feel. Less trees, more exposed banks. Then
back to thick forest again. I spent much of my time up in the bubble car – a
curious half second story in one carriage that was mostly roofed with curved
glass – taking in the views and chatting to others who were sharing the journey
with us. I would take the kids up one or two at a time to share in the
experience. Our little girl provided particular entertainment to a couple of nice
retired guys who were taking the road just for the hell of it.
People had
their different reasons for taking this long-slow road, but they all seemed
keen to share and certainly had the time. I have always loved the mini life
within a life that comes with being trapped with people on some lengthy form of
transport. I must have had conversations with a dozen strangers, discussing
everything from the winters of Saskatchewan to drug issues in Vancouver and the
history of ice hockey. It was an interesting mix of tourists, pensioners, young
backpackers, people crossing the country with limited funds and an odd awkward
man who would stop, stare, try small talk and then slide off. Him aside it was
great.
FREIGHT-FREIGHT-FREIGHT-FREIGHT-FREIGHT
A curious
thing about much of this cross-country rail, is that it is often split into two
tracks. A result of heady hey-days of rail when different rail companies laid
track side by side. To this day there is still competition between the
successor companies, Canadian Pacific and Canadian National. The former was
nation forming, part of a deal with British Columbia to bring it into the
Federation. The second was the result of competition, bankruptcy and
competition renewed. One track across the world’s second largest country is an
immense concept and task. Two is nuts and a testimony to ambition and the hundreds
of predominantly Chinese workers who died building it.
An offshoot
of this quirk of history was that we often had great views across the river at the
other track. This impressed both in terms of engineering scale – we could see mirroring
bridges, cuttings and tunnels to those we were on – and sheer weight of traffic.
We saw freight train, after freight train, after freight train, dragging massive
metal shipping containers of raw materials and grain from the inards of Canada
out to the coast and Asian markets. We started counting the carriages with the
kids, but lost count well beyond 50. Some of these were far in excess of a mile
long. One after another after another.
Being one of
only two regular passenger trains to use the route that week, we were perhaps unsurprisingly
a second class consideration, regularly being shunted into sidings while miles
of freight clink-clanked past.
At times we would not move for hours. The really
nice lady who manned the food cart told me that the extend of traffic would
usually mean they were hours and often even a day late. It is quite a sight to
see in action the level of trade, consumption and demand of the East, signaled
by the huge numbers of containers that were marked with Chinese symbols. An
irony of sorts that the railroad which so many Chinese workers would die for
now feeds the demand of their ancestral home.
AWAKENING TO THE ROOF OF THE ROCKIES
It took a
while to settle the kids to sleep on their slouched back economy chairs (Chris
fell asleep first…), but eventually all settled while we sat for 2 hours or so
in a pitch black siding. Moving forward I also finally fell asleep, rocked by
the gentle motion of the train and calmed by the tranquil excitement that a
long train journey allows.
We all awoke
at first light. The train had made good progress North of Kamloops. The
mountains had grown and the scenery was even more dramatic. Back to the bubble
car for a great breakfast of pancakes dripping in maple syrup and past Mount
Robson, the highest mountain in the Canadian Rockies. Real wilderness, vast
forests climbing the slopes until they gave way to rock and, right at the top,
cloud.
It was
quite a surprise to come across a very small town trackside, before nature
banished man and we pulled through an eerie landscape of mist, stunted trees
and mountains. Snow increasingly dominated, supplemented by ice as we passed a
series of frozen lakes, including the large Moose lake.
I find it
hard to describe just how dramatic the mountain landscape was. Our train was 4
hours late and the better for it. Instead of arriving at 8am, we were given an
extra morning staring out the window as we climbed through the high Rockies.
The
only thing missing was some wildlife… Beyond a
bald eagle that briefly glided past our window, we had seen little other than the
odd horse since leaving the low-lands. As we pulled into Jasper that changed. I
glimpsed a big black furry thing out the window. Shouting bear, our eldest jumped
across to the window and spotted another. A mother and cub black bear were
foraging by the track. The trained moved on, but what a first taster of the
inhabitants of Jasper National Park!
A day and night on a
classic train done. Three days in one of the best national parks on earth
awaited.
