His sight has turned inside himself
To try and understand
The serenity of a clear blue mountain lake
John Denver

A frigid wind, oblivious to the fact that it is July, tumbles down from the ice above and penetrates several layers of hi-tech clothing. I am chilled and take refuge on the lee side of a small ridge, repose on the flattest rock I can find, and feed on the view. The postcard spread before me is Peyto Lake. From my perch the hand of man is not apparent. This is a primeval landscape, wild, and more than a tad intimidating.

I am exploring Canada's Icefield Parkway, 140 miles of roller coaster asphalt, an artery to mind-blowing scenery, perhaps the most picture perfect anywhere. This is the soul of the Canadian Rockies, a white-capped ocean of stone that straddles the Great Divide. Here are icefields, glaciers, psychedelic blue lakes, and wildlife. Even the griz, poster child of the wild, is out there somewhere. (next photo)