Mcdougall Memorial United Church

July 29, 2018

Life in Canmore

We finally met up with our Airbnb host. He cleared up a few questions we’ve had about Canmore’s unusual fauna.

First, about the rabbits. It’s not true that they’re escaped pets. They’re all descendants of escaped pets, that got out about thirty years ago. They’re a big problem, because another things they attract predators. Canmore has frequent visits by coyotes, cougars and bears that come to graze on bunnies, and they’re a safety threat to the human population. One estimate is that there is one feral bunny for every human in the town of 12,000.

The town is at war with the rabbits, and has had a trap and euthanize program in place for about six years. It costs them about $400/bunny, and they aren’t making much headway because bunnies are, well, breeding like rabbits. And, it’s a source of friction between the realists and the folks that find bunnies too cute to capture, kill, and turn into calories packets.

I thought I should have another bunny photo to insert here, so I stepped out the door of our unit to look for one. It didn’t take long - three were grazing in the alley, right outside our door. Here are two of them:

Could you euthanize and eat this adorable thing? Me neither. Big problem.

So then there’s the cat situation. The two orange cats are not siblings after all; and the tailless one didn’t lose it through an injury - he’s part Manx, and part pig. I forget the name of the Manx -it’s the name of a cartoon character that his son picked, so we’ll stick with the more descriptive Stub. The other one, Berlioz, got his name from the animal shelter where he was adopted from. My friend Frank would approve - his two cats from long ago were named Mozart and Beethoven.

Stub likes doors, and likes to escape. I lost my head temporarily when I stepped out for my bunny shoot, and left both the front door and our bedroom door wide open. Stub thundered down the stairs (he’s very heavy and heavy footed) and then stopped, paralyzed by his wealth of choices. I half recovered my wits (back to about my normal state), and quickly closed a door -the wrong one first, the door to the bedroom - so he darted between my legs and out of the house and chased after the three bunnies, who easily evaded him.

Stub goes hunting, and returns empty pawed.

I’ve been remiss in my journaling responsibilities. Here we are on our fourth night in town, and I’ve hardly spoken about our impressions of it. Even without considering the bunnies, we both like Canmore a lot. The setting is fantastic of course, with lovely peaks rising up in all directions. It has a great atmosphere too, at least to our tastes: very young, vibrant, outdoor-centric. People are out walking, biking or skating everywhere you turn. It reminds me a bit of Bend, Oregon, as it was about twenty years ago. The motto for Canmore Brewing could stand for the town as a whole: ‘Think outside; there’s no box”.

And, it’s very fauna-friendly. They even let magpies into the coffee shops here!

He looks like he wishes he could ride that bike out there.

Today’s ride

Today we’re biking out east of town on Highway 1A, the Bow River Parkway. It’s partly an easier ride (long, but with minimal climbing); and for me at least, part pilgrimage. Our destination is the McDougall Memorial United Church, one of the oldest structures in the region and an important historical site. It was built in 1875 by Methodist missionary John McDougall, here to tend to the needs of the various First Nations people living in what is now nearby Morley. Originally named Morleyville, it was the oldest pioneer settlement in southern Alberta, and the Church was (until recently) Alberta’s oldest surviving Protestant Church and the oldest building in the Bow Valley.

My personal interest in the church of course dates back to 1987 and my ride from Prince George to Calgary. On the next to last day of our tour, my spouse of the moment and I spent the night outside this church. We arrived here late in the day, tired and a bit desperate to find a place to sleep. We were wild camping, but once we left the mountains and forests behind we couldn’t find anything suitable after biking through miles of fenced rangeland. We spent the night sleeping on the ground next to the church, on the side facing away from the highway. It is a very evocative place and memory, and I’ve long wanted to see the spot again.

The church is roughly thirty miles east of Canmore, just off the highway. With a clear, hot day in the forecast we got an early start to beat the hottest part of the day. We enjoyed a relaxing, fast ride to the church, riding 1A the whole way. This early in the morning there was very little traffic, and for the first half of the ride at least there is an excellent wide shoulder. The ride is very attractive, but is particularly noteworthy because a bit beyond Exshaw we suddenly break free of the easternmost range of the Rockies, and within a matter of a few miles we transition from forests to wide open prairie and range land. A few miles further, and we arrive at the site of the church.

This looks like we’re off in the wilderness, but not quite. This is a view from the bike path through the heart of Canmore. Looks like a great spot for the coyotes to hang out between bunny snacks.

The Three Sisters, Canmore’s iconic trio

Mount Lougheed, and a wide spot in the Bow

Heading east. Cloudless sky, mild tailwind. Perfect.

Just another no name peak, west of Exshaw

Another wide spot in the Bow. I think that is Grotto Mountain on the right, but don’t quote me.

Approaching Exshaw, in black and white because that’s my memory of it from the first time through. In those dirtier days, the hamlet (a company town) was coated with a thin layer of concrete dust and felt a bit hellish.

Exshaw has really cleaned up its act in the last thirty years. For such an industrial site, it’s quite attractive no.

Suddenly, everything changes. Within just a few miles we leave the mountains and forests behind and enter prairie and range land. Here, we’re looking back west at the last range of the Rockies.

The view east, from the same spot as the previous photo.

Wide open. I love this part of the ride, flying out of the mountains, not bored with the monotony of the plains yet.

ZThe church is gone. We just missed it. It was destroyed by fire just a year ago May, an apparent arson victim. I feel a personal sense of loss, but nothing of course to compare to the feelings of those with a real connection. Something like this has happened before, and I feel a bit like a jinx. In our tour across Utah last spring I was saddened to find that the another site I have fond memories of, the Dewey Bridge, was also recently destroyed by fire.

There’s nothing at the site of the church now but a fenced off hole in the ground. The charred remains were carefully removed and stored, while plans are considered for possibly rebuilding it. If it is rebuilt, maybe I’ll come back for another look some year, but I doubt it would feel the same. We stayed around for awhile, taking a few photos and dredging up memories, and then finally turned west for the return ride to Canmore and our last meal on the town.

Time to move on.

The site of McDougall Church looks pretty much as I remembered it. The sign has gotten fresh paint, but the fence is the same. There’s a V-trap entrance to it that doesn’t accommodate bicycles well. As I remember, my spouse of the moment and I had to remove the panniers and angle the bikes lifted up on their rear wheel to get past it and walk down to the church. But where’s the church?

Disappeared. Destroyed by fire just over a year ago, an arson victim. A lot of the structural elements survived, but they’ve all been removed and stored for a possible rebuild.nothing but a large hole in the ground now.

The outbuildings remain, as well as informational signs describing the history of the place. I predict the star attraction will return, in time.

As we ride west and the mountains quickly grow larger on the horizon, I imagine what it must be like to be a westbound cross country cyclist arriving after weeks crossing the prairie. It must be an incredible rush of excitement.

Heading west, entering the transition zone. Warning signs alert us to watch for wildlife and cattle on the road, but mostly we encounter a steady stream of Harley’s and Yamahas.

Lunch stop, on the 1A shoulder east of Exshaw. Rachael would like you to appreciate how skillfully she parked the Straggler on this gravelly shoulder.

for a few beautiful miles the roadside is lined with aspens. It must be glorious in autumn.

West of Exshaw. We passed this point going the other direction and it didn’t draw our intention. The water was rippled from the wind, the light was wrong. Nothing special.

For some reason I’ve been having a harder time keeping up on the journal here in Canmore. Something just seems to be slowing me down.

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Today's ride: 62 miles (100 km)
Total: 980 miles (1,577 km)

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