Today Sam joined me for the sunrise.
Yesterday I mentioned briefly how the food in Banff is underwhelming. This morning we ate breakfast at Coyotes Southwestern Grill. Sam liked the Huevos Rancheros, but I found a big blue wet string in my pancake butter (after already putting a knife to it). The waitress explained that they keep the butter next to the wash rags. Uh-huh. Excellent. That was the last straw. Or string, as it were. We mostly stayed out of the restaurants after that. Most of our eating from then on came from the local IGA.
We snacked on the Icefields Parkway to Peyto Lake, arriving late enough in the afternoon to avoid most other human beings but still enjoy the easy loop by the famous lookout made more difficult by thickening snowfall. Most of the trail had been compacted by snowshoeing and cross-country skiers (a few of which narrowly missed us as they barrelled through the narrow white tunnels between pines), but every now and then we’d hit a soft patch and slip into snow up to our knees. At one point Sam gave up trying to fight it and did a backflip into a snow bank.
Back at the hotel – you guessed it: more beer, cream and vodka, and sleeping in.