Canadian Rockies

Destinations, International — By ATV Mag on March 30, 2006 at 12:00 pm

So it goes without saying that I welcomed the call from Arctic Cat inviting me up to the Canadian Rockies. The objective was to spend the day on the trails, riding Arctic’s new 500 automatic, and riding an assortment of other ATVs that included every single model in its lineup, as well as many competitive models from other manufacturers.
Going Canadian
Within the week, I was on board an early flight out of Palm Springs, Calif., bound for Canada. Okay, actually Denver, but from there it was straight to Calgary and the Immigration Officers.
Canadian Immigration, much like our own IRS, does not operate smoothly when people tell the truth. Needless to say, an hour and a half getting through customs taught me that if I ever go to Canada again, it’ll be “just to visit a friend.”
I’m painfully aware that in July, anyplace this side of Purgatory would be cooler than Palm Springs, I was surprised to be met with temperatures more than 30-degrees cooler in Calgary. And the best was yet to come!
We traveled by car for about three hours up out of Calgary through Banff to the Beaverfoot Lodge. It was there that we sat and drank to the thought that just that morning I was too hot in a T-shirt. Now, 12 hours later, I was cold, mosquito-bitten, and in a “foreign” country.
The morning dawned somewhat blurred, but turned bright and cheerful soon after a hearty breakfast. Thankfully so, as off in the meadow sat the new Arctic Cat 500 Automatic along with every other Arctic Cat model, waiting to be ridden through the nearby mountains.
All Terrain
As we donned rainsuits and headed for our machines, we were once again reminded of the beauty of this area. The densely forested valley floors, criss-crossed by numerous rivers and countless streams, were walled in on all sides by the towering slopes of the rugged, snow-capped Canadian Rockies. All of this was encased in a sky ready at a moments notice to explain how the mountains had snow and the valleys had streams. Or mud as we would find out soon enough.
Our guide for the day’s ride provided ATV tours to foreign travelers, most without ATV experience. He relished the thought of providing “an experience” for “those magazine guys.” And that he did. Less than one mile from the lodge, we were wallowing through mud ruts that, although challenging for the 4×4 ATVs, raised the attention level of the 2WD riders to record peaks.
The mud ruts were really just there to get us all ready for the long bogs we would be crossing farther down the trail. While the center of the trail through the bogs was often deep enough to challenge any ATV and rider combination, strategically placed logs could instantly foil the best attempt.
Several ATVs would need to be pulled across after the rider’s bravery only managed to get the ATV left straddling a downed log, high-centering it instantly. Every attempt to self-extract only managed to sling more muck from under the tires eventually only leaving water for traction.
Ropes were strung out and handed to the stranded riders, but the retrieval task was rarely accomplished without plenty of good-natured ribbing, and of course, a soaking of pants from (at least) the knee down.
It was early in the day, and since I’m from the part of the country known for dust, not mud, I stuck to the sides of the crossings where the water was not as deep and the mud was not engulfing. This technique saw me safely to the far side with enough time to dismount and offer plenty of criticism to those trying to tackle the deeper crossings.
The only kink in this plan was I had started aboard the 500 Automatic, making me the photo model for those mud and deep-water shots. Fortunately, it proved rather uneventful as I made several passes through one deep section without hangups.
Although the water was deep and the mud gooey, I watched several others ride through the muck proving it possible. That gave me the courage to try it.
Eventually our guide got tired of trashing us and led us onto some fairly open fireroads, allowing us to wring out the ATVs a bit. This section also brought out my arch enemy — dust!
Whoopy Cushioned?
Maybe I shouldn’t have complained, as we soon turned off-road again, we wound through an ancient logged area that provided whoops to die for. Or perhaps I should say whoops to be killed by. Fortunately these whooped sections were interspersed with fallen trees to ride over.
With this kind of variety of trails all within an easy morning’s ride, it is no wonder that Arctic Cat chose this area for us to ride its lineup and compare its quads to the competition. About the time we grew tired of riding (if that is ever truly possible), we crossed an old wooden bridge to a beautiful spot for lunch alongside a quickly flowing river. While lunch proved a welcome relief from the saddle, the lunch time entertainment proved once and for all that you can’t turn journalists loose on test machines without adult supervision.
One of the riders (we’ll call him Ray to protect his identity) repeatedly tried crossing the fast-moving river without using the handy (and dry) wooden bridge. Repeated attempts proved that the Arctic Cat would run well beyond what should be asked of it.
Ray (not his real name remember) is of substantial bulk so that the ATV would remain planted on the river’s bottom with water flowing over the tops of the fenders. The speed of the flowing water allowed that to be the limit however and, although Ray kept the engine running, the ATV would lose traction and drift downstream where he was then able to drive it out and onto dry land.
Mountain Climbing
With entertainment this good, it was with great reluctance that we gave it up to do some more riding. After all, we had a mountain to climb before turning back.
From the lunch stop we rode on through some cool afternoon showers winding our way higher as we took in the ever-expanding view of the surrounding countryside. And what a view it was, eventually giving way to an almost 360-degree view of the rugged beauty of the Canadian Rockies.
After enough of a break to enjoy the view, we saddled up again for the ride back to the lodge. The return ride gave us plenty of time to reflect on what a great place this was to ride. Here it was, the middle of summer, and I was riding with a sweatshirt and a rainsuit through forests and streams with snow-capped mountains in every direction.
I couldn’t help but think how wonderful ATVs have made exploring the back-country. Otherwise we’d either be walking, covering perhaps 1/100th of the country we’d covered today; or horseback riding, saddle-sore at a 1/50th; or else we’d have been inside a Jeep-type vehicle, bouncing roughly over the terrain, beating ourselves up, perhaps covering 1/3rd the area.
On The Return
The return trip through the bigger bogs proved considerably more of a challenge than the first pass. Once one rider got stuck, another would attempt a different route only to meet a muddy end. Soon, ATVs were stranded along every possible route. This only served to evoke the panic mode in other riders.
Being one of those, I can say that eventually the helplessness of the situation sets in, and you decide you’d rather be stuck out there than waiting back here. I can also say that once you get stuck out there, you realize you should have waited a little bit longer before showing impatience. Eventually all were freed from the goo and we made it back to the lodge for dry clothes and a great supper.
As the day ended, we found ourselves sitting on the porch watching the sun set on the mountaintops above us with a fine glass of wine for the celebration and a fat cigar for protection from the mosquitoes. We reminded ourselves how lucky we are to have ATVs for exploring this country, and how much fun we had in just one day’s time; we all agreed how great it was to live in a country like this. A couple of glasses earlier and we would have realized that we don’t actually live in Canada!