A Compilation of All Your Favorite Places in the Western States and Provinces
In this post, I want to ask you to interact if you will. If you provide me with the one place you loved more than any other, why, and (if possible) a photograph of the location, I will produce a Triptik that will include your submission and your picture.
We have all been to one location where we felt awe or complete peace and relaxation. I know we have. It’s one of the reasons we ride. All I’m asking is you let me know where and why. It doesn’t have to be because of the grandeur of the place. Maybe it was just the lighting, or what happened on that day. Maybe it was because of who you were with, and now they’re gone. Or maybe you went there to complete a journey for someone else.
It was just that situation on a trip I took about seven years ago that made the location special to me. I had ridden to a well-known lake in the mountains of Alberta. The lake has a lookout that requires one to climb about a thousand feet to get to the lookout. The climb at the lake is a challenge for most people, but for one Japanese man in a wheelchair, the climb would have been arduous. Fortunately, the man, who I discovered was in his 70’s, was assisted by a younger man of about 25.
He placed the camp chair on the lookout’s wooden overlook and walked back to the wheelchair, effortlessly picking up the old man and carrying him to the lookout, where he sat him in the camp chair. It was a warm summer day, and the lookout was spectacularly lit, the large glaciers above the lake valley below lit in brilliant sunshine that reflected off the snow. No
They had left the parking lot before me and I passed them on the walk-up, saying hello as I passed. The young man was fit, certainly more fit than most of the people making the trip to the overlook. He easily pushed the wheelchair up the incline and as I rounded a bend in the trail, I noticed he was navigating the trail easily. When I got to the lookout, several people were in the process of gathering up their belongings for the trip back down to the parking lot.
I had, as usual, brought my photography bag and a tripod, as I wanted to stay on the lookout and get several photos, along with some time-lapse photographs. As those leaving made their way down, I noticed that the old Japanese man had arrived along with his younger attendant. The younger man locked the wheels of the wheelchair and from a backpack produced a folding camp chair, which he quickly put together.
The younger man then took out a camera and from behind the old man, photographed him as a portrait. I could tell from both the camera and the photographer’s viewpoint that the photos would be memorable. The cameraman was a good photographer.
I climbed down the rock to a large flat piece of granite offering what I thought was the best viewpoint. Shortly, I was accompanied by the young Japanese photographer, who simply nodded and began taking pictures of the valley. The Japanese man came over to me and asked, in English, if he could take a picture using my tripod. I, of course, said yes. He took several shots of the valley and turned to take several photos of the old man, silhouetted against the valley.
I noticed that the older Japanese man had tears running down his cheeks, and his son asked him if everything was all right. The son saw me looking, smiled and said, “He wishes his brother was here to see this.”
As the light faded, I finally shot all the photographs I wanted to take. The Japanese men were in the process of packing up and heading back to the parking lot. I started up a conversation with the young man, who told me he had graduated from UBC, and that this was his father, who lived in Japan.
I asked him why he had come to this location and stayed almost the whole afternoon. His answer stayed with me. “Because my father’s brother had seen a picture of this place and told his brother he wanted to see his brother’s picture there before he died.” He had flown from Japan to visit his son, who was now living in Vancouver as a surgeon, and when he found out that it was possible to visit the location his brother had requested, that they go. They decided to rent a car, and two days later, here they were.
The young doctor said that he intended to make an enlargement of the photos, have them framed, and return them to Japan with his father for his uncle, who he said was too frail and of ill health to make the journey.
Riding is life, and you never know who you will meet or the stories they might tell you on the way. Enjoy the experience. Live your life.
Ciao…
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