Remembering My Canadian Rockies Road Trip Only Through Pictures

It’s an unfortunate thing to be dissociating while visiting the Rockies, such a beautiful place to be in, such a tragic coping mechanism to have. Travelling with friends or people in general tends to push me into a mode where I shut down, and that’s exactly what happened when I went for a week of road tripping in the Rockies with that new friend.

The trip didn’t start right. I was to pick up a car from the local car-sharing fleet and drive to my friend’s place to get her. For some reason, I couldn’t find the parking brake and thus couldn’t start the car. I tried calling customer service and resorted to the car manual for a solution. 30 minutes later, not proud of myself but relieved, I finally drove out to find my friend, already anxious about my delay and my lack of car knowledge. Two stressed-out girls on a road trip, what could go wrong?

We immediately had an uncomfortable realization when she saw my trifold mattress for the 2-night camping trip (and 5 nights in hotels). She was visibly displeased about it and suggested trading it for her air mattress to gain space, which we were really not lacking; it was only the two of us in this full-size sedan. Then I found myself surprised by how much cooking gear she was bringing in. Were we going on the same trip? The divergence started strong and set the tone for the rest of the trip.

Hiking around Lake Louise and to the top of Lake Agnes, I was still enjoying the fresh alpine air and the cooler temperatures of the early fall setting in the Rockies. The sun was shining mildly and wasn’t enhancing the colour of the iconic lake below. We even reached the tea house before it closed and enjoyed a well-deserved treat while watching over the most photographed place in the country. I was hopeful getting on the trails would dissipate the off start, and the rest of the trip would only get better from there.

But dropping the car keys right as we unlocked the rental sent us into a five-minute frenzy, ruining the mood and spiking my already fragile nervous system. How to make the most of my vacation when I’m with someone as anxious and dysregulated as I am?

While kayaking on Two Jack Lake, I tried to appreciate this vast, quiet landscape and soak in the beauty of the region, the shades of grey, the sky, the lake, the mountains and a few touches of green from the courageous trees persevering through the local climate. While we paddled on this peaceful lake, I don’t recall enjoying the moment. I had left my wallet at home and couldn’t provide a credit card for the kayak deposit; she had to cover it. I had assumed that travelling with a friend meant having someone to lean on for exactly this kind of small thing, but her reaction made me feel like I had asked for too much, leaving me feeling ashamed and guilt-ridden.

Every time I find myself at the bottom of these gigantic peaks, I feel so small, truly Little Me in Big Canada. This time around, I was intentionally making myself small to prevent another uncomfortable situation I couldn’t escape.

Once at the Rawson Lake trailhead, south of Canmore, we encountered a group of young tourists playing their loud music on a portable speaker. This started a conversation: why would one play pop music in an environment that invites silence, contemplation and appreciation of Mother Nature’s best work?

This came back to bite me, and I started wondering, what could I do that would trigger her judgment? Concerned, feeling unsafe to be myself, to be a flawed human, I continued walking the trail, head down, staring at my feet. Was the trail beautiful? The trees, the birds, the lake, the sky? I don’t know; I was there, but not really. I’ll check the pictures when I’m home.

Edith Cavell was one of her suggestions; I had never heard of the hike and glacier south of Jasper. I’m unsure what triggered my disconnection that day. I only remember sitting alone, watching the glacier and calculating how large a tsunami it would trigger if part of it fell into the glacial lake below. Then I got distracted by a chipmunk. I don’t know where she was, probably walking around.

Later on, while hiking around Maligne Lake, I hoped to feel a sense of wonder as I stood on the shore and stared at Spirit Island, a tiny cluster of pine trees on the lake, surrounded by turquoise glacial water, another iconic scene featured in various guides about Canada. Instead, I was jumping across the patches of snow; part of the trail was still covered with a patchy white blanket from the previous snowfall. We were surprised by this early weather event in the region, after all, it was still early September. What else happened? I don’t remember. It might be on my camera roll.

At least a good session hiking would beat down the anxiety and quiet both of us for the rest of the day. That was a welcome respite I could count on every day, after holding myself back the whole day. We were beat down, things got lighter.

I would never have guessed my friend would suggest spending an afternoon at a local spa. I approved immediately! The idea of finding myself in a jacuzzi, with the grand mountains and their snowy caps in the background, sounded like a one-of-a-kind experience I would not forget. It helped soothe the dynamics, and we were good again.

Day 6, it was time to go home. On the stretch between Kamloops and Hope, we realized a tad too late that we should have filled up the tank before hitting the road, since there aren’t many gas stations along the way.

We spent an hour spiralling through worst-case scenarios, eventually arriving in town on fumes, without having to call CAA.

Returning to Vancouver brought the last spikes of anxiety with the infamous city traffic, and finally, goodbyes were said when dropping her off at her place.

These were the last goodbyes, as such trips tend to be where friendships go to die. I returned home unwell. I couldn’t tell whether I had a good time or enjoyed the Rockies. I could only look at the videos and pictures to determine whether I appreciated what I came here to experience. I think we both did: we were all smiles when posing together. It wasn’t fake, just discomfort. We weren’t travel compatible, after all. I lost a friend then but earned many nice framed pictures of myself in a magnificent background. The memories will remain.

Some people say that happiness is only true when shared. This does not really apply when you are dealing with a nervous system stuck in fawn mode, with a tendency to dissociate when overwhelmed.

This was also my last friend trip, and I continued to enjoy the beauty of Canada on my own, fully present and appreciative of the environments and experiences. Thankfully, so far, I do not have another dissociating-in-Canada’s-major-destination to tell of for another time.