Evacuees: Box Checked Now

The world is chaotic.  Feels to me more chaotic than ever but then I have only seventy-five years to compare it to.  We all find ways to escape the craziness.  Maybe it’s a mini-series on some platform.  Or we can go to the movie (not much of an escape when I see all the previews about horror and apocalypse). Some folks stuff those little white things in their ears and go for a run. Then some of us take a trip we call a ‘vaca’. 

Two years ago Jeannie and I had done the train trip across Canada from Vancouver to Halifax beginning with the Rocky Mountaineer train to Banff.  It was such a perfect trip we decided to do a loop: a repeat of Vancouver to Banff, then up the ice field parkway to Jasper, then another Rocky Mountaineer train back west to Quesnel, Whistler and back into Vancouver.  We’d booked the previous trip through Fresh Tracks and after this experience—starting with troubles at booking with Rocky Mountaineer, Fresh Tracks was the best choice. 

This time, our first week, the repeat of the earlier trip went great.  Our nights at the Rim Rock in the Banff National Park just were good. As we headed to Lake Louise things began to slip in that we weren’t aware that our hotel had no air conditioning and our timing coincided with an unusually hot stretch of days. We’d been checking weather apps for weeks.  They lied but we made the best of it. It was cooler in Tennessee than Canada.

Our trip continued with our third time up the ice field parkway. It remains breathtakingly beautiful.  We had another frosty walk on the Athabasca glacier before arriving at the Fairmont Jasper Park Lodge. When I hear the name ‘Fairmont’ I think high end and over the top—not no air conditioning. The temperature was 98 degrees as we checked in. It is a very spread out lake resort.  Our room was a couple of blocks from the central lodge.  We did find a shuttle to get us to our room.  

There was a ceiling fan and a floor fan, but at 98 degrees they circulated hot air.  With not much of an appetite we tried the lodge restaurant splitting a chicken sandwich—way over fried, similar to how we were feeling.  The check in desk told us about ‘The Cooling Cart' with ice, popsicles and cooling towels to help with the heat.  We signed up. We were looking forward to a popsicle—never came.  When did get to our room there was a bag of ice on the doorstep struggling to remain ice.

The hotel kept emphasizing temps cool down at night—agreed, about four in the morning—so sleep was touch and go that first night. 

mountains still visible through the haze at this point

We’d scheduled an all day excursion/boat ride on Maligne Lake which was fun even though smoke made the mountain views hazy.  We did have a great buffet lunch.  

Maligne Lake

Arriving back to the resort, not being that hungry, we bought a bag of chips and a turkey sandwich at their ‘grab and go’ to take back to our room and split.  As we finished our sandwich around six the electricity went off, the whole resort.  I slipped out to sit on our porch.  A strong wind had come up cooling things down ever so slightly. It was strong enough to blow the down spout I was sitting next to off the building.  The tall spruce trees were swaying back and forth. The electricity came on, then soon off again—then later back on.  This was our first warning that something was up.  A couple from Kansas City—Kim and David, was in the room two doors down from us.  They came over to speculate about the electricity, the wind and the smoke it was blowing in.  Mountains that had been visible only minutes before disappeared. The smell of smoke was strong in our nostrils.  Fine ash began falling on our clothing.  In retrospect, this was the time to take some action.  My thoughts were “if ash is falling the fire can’t be all that far away”.

my photo caught Kim coming over to introduce herself

Kim’s photo shows me sitting on our porch

When the lights stayed on and the winds had died down some, we decided to go on to bed since we were to leave early in the morning to catch the train.  We considered leaving the front and back doors open for cooling but the smell of smoke was too strong. 

the mountain view disappeared

We were deep asleep when Kim banged on our door saying they’d got an alert on their phone that the town of Jasper and the resort was being evacuated. My phone had been silent. It was around 10:30 pm.  Jeannie phoned the front desk who said get to the main lodge.  We threw what was left into our luggage—glad we done most of our packing before bed.  As we were rolling luggage outside two strangers in the street offered to help roll luggage in the darkness. When we got to the lodge one of our ‘suitcase rollers’ asked what group we were with.  We said Rocky Mountaineer but really on our own since there was no guide or representative.  We spotted Kim and David getting on a bus and fell in behind them since they were to be on the train as well.  It was chaotic.  No signs on any of the many buses.  No hotel staff offering directions—in fact, staff were piling onto buses as well. Getting our luggage onto to what had been a tour bus that day we climbed on.  Our Asian driver spoke broken english —but in our situation, he could drive a bus!  

(Later while checking in our hotel in Whistler we met other Rocky Mountaineer evacuees who’d been at the Crimson Hotel in Jasper downtown.  We had stayed there two year ago while with the Rocky Mountaineer. They were loaded onto a school bus all the way to Kamloops, the first stop on the ride from Vancouver, then on to Whistler.  School buses have no AC, no bathroom, no electric outlets.  We felt strangely lucky.)  

Many of the hotel and restaurant staff we’d interacted with were young people from overseas with no family in Canada, no form of transportation.  I felt for them. 

As we pulled away into total darkness we went narrow backroads to highway 16—the one escape route out of Jasper for all, 5000 residents and 20,000 tourists. Jasper is the largest National park in Canada and the evacuation included all the back country—what a chore for rangers.   

Kim Rogowski’s photo of the traffic

Once to the highway we joined miles of headlights in every direction, stopped.  Wedging our way in, we sat staring at tail lights for near an hour barely inching along.  I had downloaded Jonathan Vigliotti’s new book, BEFORE IT IS GONE.  It is about the effects of climate change that he’d reported on for CBS.  I’d just finished the first section about fire reading about the Paradise California fire—the whole town going up in flames. As we waited in the jam of traffic I recalled his report of people dying in their cars trying to escape the fire.  Not the book to read before being launched into a fire evacuation.  I kept my thoughts to myself. Later, Jeannie said she had thought about calling our daughters to say goodbye but it was middle of the night for them so we chose to text.  We’d decided to have only one of our iPhones on during the trip, mine.  I told Jeannie to get her phone out and make sure it was charged since we had no idea what we were facing.  I’d taken but wasn’t wearing my Apple Watch.  I charged it too.  We’d lucked out on a bus with charging ports.  

It was quiet on the bus as we all stared at the tail lights ahead.  

Driving in the dark with the thousands of others I’m not sure our driver knew where to go at first—just get us away.  A light rain had begun to fall as we made our way to Valemount about 3 am, the first community west of Jasper.  Many others had stopped for gas, a snack and a washroom.  Lots of Jasper locals had decided to sleep in their cars at Valemount. All of us were dazed, sleepy, frightened.  The electronic signs over the roadway were telling evacuees to go to Prince George so we headed there—hours away.  Our bus driver bought some Red Bull in efforts to stay awake driving all night.  I was just two seats behind him ready to kindly pop him in the back of the head if he dozed off.  

Finally in daylight we arrived in Prince George around 10:00 am at the evacuation center.  Locating the center was even a challenge.  The rain had stopped, the air was clear and cool. The staff there was friendly but about all they could offer was a muffin and cup of coffee—still much appreciated.  A few of us had been trying to reach Rocky Mountaineer via phone and emails all night to no avail.  It was apparent they had no emergency plan or 24 hour line.  The recorded message told us “We care about our customers—“ which rang hollow.  Rocky Mountaineer had no idea at that point where all their train passengers were. Finally standing in the parking lot Rocky Mountaineer called back telling us to stay in Prince George.  The evacuation center did not even have room for our two bus loads to even sit.  We were standing in a chilly parking lot.  All hotel rooms were gone but we did already have rooms in Quesnel for the night (where we were to stay via the train) and our bus drivers (two Sundog bus drivers had decided to travel together in Valemount) said they could drive us on to Quesnel. We told Rocky Mountaineer we had hotel rooms in Quesnel, we had buses and drivers who had agreed to drive us there.  They started with asking us who will pay for these buses?  Who will pay these drivers? My response, “YOU will”.  After being put on hold multiple times so the rep could consult a supervisor, they agreed with us and we left for Quesnel.  Being ‘on the ground’ in the middle of such a crisis a person knows way more than someone sitting in an office miles away.  We ‘train people’ standing in that parking lot had decided where we were going for the night and were ready to mutiny. On the way, those of us on our bus agreed to take up money for the bus driver and to advocate at the hotel for a room for him.

one of the two Sundog Tour buses we were on

Hastily marked directions were not the best

Arriving in Quesnel at The Sandman Hotel, they had not been notified of our early arrival but kicked into gear and got us into rooms. Some fellow travelers collapsed in bed.  Having done overnight flights to Europe we always chose to push through and stay up.  Five of us took a bus to into town for a ‘tour’.  It’s a sleepy town you can take off your bucket list.  We stopped at their downtown DQ, got tiny blizzards and sat in peace for a few moments recognizing how obvious we were to the locals.  By now it was all over local news about Jasper.  We were ‘evacuees’ and stuck out like a sore thumb. 

There are many reasons people are evacuees: war and political unrest as well as climate disasters like floods, hurricanes, tornadoes or forest fires—ours. It might have been a tad better to be evacuated in daylight, maybe not.  To be hundreds of miles from home, in an area not familiar while totally dependent on others for your welfare was numbing.  For those first hours we were in shock.  Sleepless and frightened, it was hard to think.  The only brain level operating was survival mode. If it began to creep into my head, I did not want to consider the worst of outcomes. 

In Quesnel The Sandman was being completely remodel.  Jeannie and I got a refurbished room. The bed was good so we got a much needed nights sleep.  

Next morning after our Denny’s breakfast, we were back on another bus with a Rocky Mountaineer couple (Rocky Mountaineer staff finally showed up in Quesnel) who were driving us to Whisler—a first time for them—us too. She kept saying what an adventure it was for them.  I wanted to tell her to zip it, that we were not looking for more adventure. (You get a bit testy at such times.) It was all day again on the bus.  No stops except for the town of Lillooet where we did get a good sandwich at a popular local cafe.  

With no stops other than lunch our butts tired of sitting.  Most bus tours stop every two hours but with our newbie driver and host having never done it—we were on an ‘adventure’.  ( I don’t recall many places along the way a bus load of people could have stopped anyway.) We did have a crisis moment when somehow the washroom door got locked with no one inside.  The driver saved the day and broke in.  It’s possible to get excited about the smallest of things.  (Really not so small I guess when trapped on a bus.)  The terrain from Quesnel to Whistler begins in an arid, barren landscape then slowly shifted to forested. After lunch the highway was slower and curvy.

near our lunch stop of Lillooet

That morning I had sat in the first seat on the right side of the bus since it’s an excellent place for taking photos. (Although the windshield was buggy)  The trip coordinator asked me if I would move because one of two Swiss ladies had trouble with motion sickness. I’m married to someone who does too so I know the drill and moved.  The one with supposed motion sickness stared down at her phone for at least half the trip—I am not exaggerating.  No one I’ve even known with motion sickness can dare do that for even a few moments. Lier, lier pants on fire! (I am not holding a grudge now against all the Swiss—just two women). I told you I was testy.

visual proof (I had nothing else to do)

Whistler was busy and beautiful—such a contrast to what was happening in Jasper making it strangely hard to totally enjoy. I was have such a mix of feelings that were so jumbled up.  After all, we were still ‘on vacation’.  Is it ok to enjoy a few moments now?

A street lamp from Jasper

A huge BMX bike competition was going on in Whistler

our hotel in Whistler

After forty-eight hours it was becoming apparent there was an emotional side of all we were dealing with.  The loss of sleep, the total dependence on others who often knew little more than we did—created a level of stress and anxiety I had rarely experienced.  Once we’d made it out of immediate harms way we were still lost.  We kept hearing ‘war stories' from other evacuees.  We heard only bits and pieces of what was happening in Jasper.  Two of the fires had come together, picked up speed and hit town Wednesday afternoon.  The fire entered the west side of town—the same route we exited.  (Now we know a third of the buildings in town were destroyed).  Firefighters had tried to helicopter in water drops.  They had also taken in bulldozers to cut a fire break but when the two fires combined it created a mega fire that with the wind and height of the flames could jump any road, river or fire break.  Even those firefighters had to evacuate.  It will take a long while for Jasper to recover.  One of Rocky Mountaineer’s primary destinations had burned.  The photos we saw on Canadian news were heartbreaking.  

Thinking about climate change, as I learned the analogy years ago, how does one boil a frog?  Slowly start with him in a pot of comfortably warm water and just gradually turn the heat up. Once it is too hot, he can’t get out. Folks, we are the frog. Those who still deny the realities are sticking their heads way underground.  Read Johnathan’s book.  We have passed several warning signs already. Climate disasters are getting worse.  Will humanity wake up or will we just live with the horrors of all this destruction?  Movie ‘entertainment’ seems to think so. 

So this vacation, our momentary escape from the general chaos of the world did not turn out as planned.  We found more chaos in Canada.  Several thousand other Canadian tourists are saying the same thing.  When the residents of Jasper woke that Monday morning they weren’t expecting evacuation either.  

We were bused again from Whistler to Vancouver where we had planned a free day before getting up at 2 am to head to the airport for our 6 am flight home the next day.  American Airlines was efficient, even bumping us to first class on the last leg from DFW to Nashville.  Our ‘new’ luggage did arrive (new in that our old luggage, both larger pieces had been damaged arriving in Vancouver so we’d gone to Winner’s / Marshals and replaced both).

Then finally home, we both had COVID.  No surprise it seemed with its current prevalence, all the buses we were on.  Our immune systems were taxed from the week.   We’d used our masks but few others did. 

At least for a while, we plan to stay put dealing with the daily world chaos from home. I’m dealing a bit better with the triggers that take me back to Jasper that night.  I’ve always been called an ‘empath’ but this experience takes it to a new level for all those in our world displaced for whatever reason.  My heart goes out to them.  

People around me, around us are being displaced all the time by all sorts of disruptions of life.  Health for one, weather disasters, war, political unrest, down to divorce or even other self inflicted crises.  Free advice: don’t wait until you go through something similar before you soften your own heart. When you see it happening to others, don’t back off as many do. Show up—even without solutions.  Your physical presence counts for a lot.  Drop the pat phrases, answers.  Just be there. 

So two benefits of all this are my empathy has ballooned to a new level and we have new friends from Kansas City, Kim and David.  He is a model railroad enthusiast with a phenomenal train layout in his basement with cases of additional model trains.  I’m hoping for a ‘play date’ someday.  As couples, we are ‘trauma bonded’ now. 

New friends, Kim & David Rogowski, deep in thought (or stupor) in my candid shot in Whistler

All of us share similar circumstances in our attempts carry on in life. Sorrows shared relieve the loneliness of the afflicted, at least for a moment.  

Glad for the comforts of home.  We will venture out again someday—later.

(My apologies for the jumping topic to topic in this article—it is a residual of the whole experience.)