Grades 11/12 1st Dylan Clement, “Into the Mountains, We Must Go”

Into the Mountains, We Must Go

If you’ve ever driven out to the west coast of Canada from the east, I bet you can remember the 45-minute drive between Calgary and Canmore. For me, the memory is one I hope to never forget.

Growing up, the days of my childhood were spent in provincial parks or my backyard learning to memorize the bumps and curves of every trail. Exploring rock faces, climbing trees, falling and scraping my knees defined my adventurous upbringing. Gripping onto branches, swimming across rivers and running through bushes are the moments that made me feel like the most complete version of myself as I aged. For my whole life, the 63 acres of land behind my house has felt like more of a home to me than anywhere else. Its rocky hills and blueberry bushes were enough to keep me hooked forever. My explorations, however, were kept in the small circle of the province of Ontario for all of my life. The idea of travelling to critically acclaimed outdoor destinations like Alberta or British Columbia has always felt too far, too expensive and out of my comfort zone. But last June that all seemed to change.

A last-minute decision to accompany my cousin as he drove out west to his new home meant that I had found myself in a truck for 15 hours a day, chasing the setting sun. I’ll be honest, most of the drive is incredibly boring. The 18-hour slog just to get out of Ontario brings you to only being able to see farmlands and highways off in the distance. That is, until you get past Calgary, Alberta.

I’d heard my family talk about how amazing and jaw-drop worthy it was to watch the terrain change from the flat plains of Manitoba to the rocky mountains of western Alberta but I’d never understood what all the hype was about. I’d seen pictures and videos of the mountains before, but they all felt average and reminded me of the rock faces from home. I couldn’t wrap my head around how you could worship something that seemed so ordinary. But I would soon come to learn.

Right after you get off of the main freeway in Calgary, you can hop back onto the Trans Canada Highway. After driving for about 10 minutes, you notice that it starts to get foggy and you can feel your ears pop. Then seemingly out of nowhere, the earth erupts into the sky with grey snow-capped peaks. In a lot of

ways, it starts to appear like you’re on a new planet. Everything feels new and the blue sky you used to know has disappeared somewhere behind ranges of rock. I have come to find out that there are not enough words in the English language to explain how beautiful the change is. My words do not do the sight justice.

In a wave of excitement, I rolled down the windows to stick my head out and try to get a glimpse of the mountain tops. Even though it was cloudy, lightly raining and windy as hell, that first breath of mountain air made me realize how someone could love these big hunks of stone.

I felt like a little kid again, darting my eyes back and forth through the windshield looking for the highest summit. I stared out the window as I watched a whole new world unfold around me, wondering how high the cliffs really are. In seconds, I was transported back to the first time I wandered into the woods back home alone. As I looked around me, I no longer felt fear or anxiety around being 3000 kilometres away from home. What I felt instead was the part of my soul that longed for adventure reawakening.

That was almost 8 months ago and I can honestly say that part of my heart will probably forever live somewhere in between Canmore and Kelowna. Some of the happiest moments of that summer were spent sitting in that truck staring at the skyline. I don’t know the next time I’ll see those Rockys or breathe in that sweet mountain air, but what I do know is that my taste for exploration is back within me to stay.