Dan Mangan | The Home Stretch -- By Jonathan Taggart
Visual Tour Diary - British Columbia & Alberta
The boys play to a full house, a seated crowd of 90-something 20-somethings stirring tea leaves in the bottom of their Bodums. The evening culminates with a husky duet of Aidan’s “Jasper”, a table-standing sing-along of Dan’s “Robots”, and we spill out into the night to follow the clouds of our breath back to the hotel.
February 3rd - Sicamous to Canmore
Continental breakfasts and frisbee-tossing in the parking lot of the Super 8 in Sicamous, “the town that rhymes with fun”, as Dan would later put it. The fun is abruptly ended when a mistimed Aidan Knight foot trap cracks the disk cleanly in two, and we climb reluctantly into a van filthy with highway grime and begin the four-hour drive to Canmore.
Somewhere between Revelstoke and Golden we encounter a thickening stream of snow-sodden cardboard boxes lining the highway. A road-work crew slows traffic and 100 meters further we discover the source of the spilled goods: a cargo trailer, doors open wide, flanks crumpled, jutting from the opposite snowbank at an unnatural angle. The delay is minimal - the accident appears to have happened earlier the previous day - but Neil’s internet sleuthing pulls up a Calgary report of the crash, two tractor-trailers meeting head-on and colliding with a third, killing two truckers. Roger’s pass is notoriously dangerous, especially in the winter and in Clam Chowder fog. Wives, girlfriends, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters - we are driving carefully and wearing our seatbelts.
Continental breakfasts and frisbee-tossing in the parking lot of the Super 8 in Sicamous, “the town that rhymes with fun”, as Dan would later put it. The fun is abruptly ended when a mistimed Aidan Knight foot trap cracks the disk cleanly in two, and we climb reluctantly into a van filthy with highway grime and begin the four-hour drive to Canmore.
Somewhere between Revelstoke and Golden we encounter a thickening stream of snow-sodden cardboard boxes lining the highway. A road-work crew slows traffic and 100 meters further we discover the source of the spilled goods: a cargo trailer, doors open wide, flanks crumpled, jutting from the opposite snowbank at an unnatural angle. The delay is minimal - the accident appears to have happened earlier the previous day - but Neil’s internet sleuthing pulls up a Calgary report of the crash, two tractor-trailers meeting head-on and colliding with a third, killing two truckers. Roger’s pass is notoriously dangerous, especially in the winter and in Clam Chowder fog. Wives, girlfriends, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters - we are driving carefully and wearing our seatbelts.
Canmore is several breaths of fresh air after a drive full of “life is fleeting” reflections. Thai food and beer at the Communitea Cafe followed by a round or two of beercan/bacon and we are once more in good spirits. For the record, the Communitea is an absolute delight - beautiful, jovial staff and a relaxed jazz club-like atmosphere that is a welcome change from the endearing chaos of the Canmore Hotel across town.
The boys play to a full house, a seated crowd of 90-something 20-somethings stirring tea leaves in the bottom of their Bodums. The evening culminates with a husky duet of Aidan’s “Jasper”, a table-standing sing-along of Dan’s “Robots”, and we spill out into the night to follow the clouds of our breath back to the hotel.
--
Jonathan Taggart is a documentary photographer and writer based in Vancouver.
posted by Terri at
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