National Geographic : 1964 Apr
within one great preserve-the Waterton Glacier International Peace Park. Chief Warden Frank Camp told me that the United States furnished close to one-fifth of Waterton Lakes National Park's visitors. From there, north along the Coleman-Kana naskis Road, we drove through towering pines of the Rocky Mountains Forest Reserve to the town of Banff, at the southeast end of Banff National Park, Alberta. At the nearby falls of the Bow River, I parked Roadrunner and sat in the driver's seat watching the creamy water return to its natural turquoise color. Suddenly a voice at my window asked where the golf course was. I said I didn't know, I'd just arrived myself. The man drifted off, muttering to his wife, "Even the bus driver doesn't know!" North America's Three-way Divide The wayward bus driver found the high way signs pointing upward as he drove to Lake Louise in the deep corridor of the Bow River. Arrows identify the peaks high above the road: Norquay, Massive, Eisenhower, Temple. We climbed one of them-White horn-the easy way, by sedan lift (page 546). A 20-minute ride in enclosed cars brought us to the most sublime panorama of the entire trip. Looking southward from our 6,761-foot eyrie, we scanned 75 miles of the serrated, snow-crowned Continental Divide. Directly in front of us, 11,365-foot Mount Victoria flaunted its huge glacier. At its foot, Lake Louise lay daintily cupped in a forest setting. At Bow Pass the chills of the Arctic as sailed us. We were higher above sea level than we had been on Whitehorn. Rain fell intermittently out of sullen skies. Water was everywhere-frozen, falling, lying colorfully in lakes, or rushing madly toward the most convenient ocean. So far all water we had seen (except in the Great Salt Lake Basin) flowed either to the Pacific or into one of the Atlantic's great arms -the Gulf of Mexico or Hudson Bay. But as we entered Jasper National Park, we looked up and saw Snow Dome, the triple divide of North America. Its shining crown of ice, part of the 130 square miles of the Columbia Ice field, sends melt not only to the Atlantic and Pacific but to the Arctic Ocean as well. As we camped at the edge of Athabasca Glacier, grateful for Roadrunner's propane heater, we were in the Arctic watershed-and the air felt like it! Next morning early we drove up the steep road along the moraine beside this great tooth 586 Roadrunner Stirs Dust Under Mount Rae, Northernmost Sentinel of the Misty Range Lodgepole pines march beside the gravel Cole man-Kananaskis Road in Canada's Rocky Moun tains Forest Reserve. Bulldozed through coulees, foothills, and mountain passes, the highway at tracts thousands of sightseers annually. Streams in the reserve teem with trout and whitefish. Moose, bear, elk, and mountain sheep and goat draw hunters in season. Mount Rae, bare of snow when the Grays drove past in August, is robed in white throughout the winter. Doorstep campfire warms the home-bound family at a roadside park in Montana. Remi niscing about Roadrunner life, the travelers recalled the hungry Yellowstone bear that sniffed the refrigerator vent of their roving home, and the Bryce Canyon Park gasoline station attend ant who remarked, "First time I've had to step into a living room to check the oil."