Thoughts on Jasper
A personal retrospective on Jasper National Park and Banff National Park
I remember my first time in Jasper vividly, because it was the first place that made the world feel massive. Not just in a "that’s so big" way, but in a "that’s unfathomably big, and I‘m struggling to understand how big I am compared to it" sort of way.
The first time I was in Jasper made me want to live in a place with that intense beauty. I visited with my family, who rushed the entire trip and often refused to leave the main road. The car stopped only long enough to buy souvenirs to prove we'd been there, however briefly, and then drove away. I felt called to explore there more, to walk between those mountains, and to let the world slow down.
Maybe that’s why I’ve found myself back to Jasper three times since then. Each trip I lingered a little longer, and each time that unknowability of scale hit me. In recent trips the feeling is more familiar and welcoming, but no less impressive.
My most recent trip to Jasper was last year, when I got to show my husband and some friends the beauty there. We rented a cabin and spent multiple days exploring the wilderness. The wildlife and beauty of the park never disappoints, nor does the hospitality of the people.
When I heard that fire was approaching the Icefield Parkway and village of Jasper, my heart sank. Jasper's enrobed by forest, much of which has had no burn event for decades. The dedication to preventing any fire had left the underbrush thick and the forest full of dry and dead trees. The summer had been hot and dry, and the weather ahead was more of the same.
Adding to the dread was knowing Alberta (the province Jasper is in) had cut back drastically on their funding for fire fighting and climate protection. Any resources to fight the flames would mostly need to come from federal crews, and it obviously wasn't enough as the size of the fire grew.
I was travelling in Chicago when news that many of the crews were evacuating reached me. Not long after, I started seeing horrified people on Twitter sharing videos of streets on fire. Crews were now doing all they could to save the school, the hospital, and the water plant. Trying to keep the bare essentials so the town could rebuild.
During the fire, the insane videos of burning homes made it look like nothing would remain. Days and weeks after the fire swept through town, the extent of the damage became clearer, and firefighters had saved much of the town. The crews did nothing short of miracles to guide the flames away and save many structures.
Many residents, even months later, are still working to rebuild their homes. The healing of the community will take years, but knowing the people of Jasper, it will come back stronger and better.
My own experiences with Jasper aren't over. Once the community has healed, I'll be back again. There's more to explore, more the mountains have to share, and more of my own memories to be made there.
I've struggled to write my thoughts here, and left this post in my drafts for months. Places like Jasper are precious for the people who live there, and also precious for humanity as a collective. They require us to be good stewards, but also to not turn what is wild into an artificial shell.
As the climate changes, the fragility of these places becomes more obvious. Individually, there's nothing I can do to change the direction of political leaders who focus more on resource extraction and less on natural preservation and fire control. But as a bloc, changes in strategy to protect what we find precious are possible.
Acting as a voting bloc requires persistence, and a resistance to being distracted from what's foundational, what's important beyond just the next few years. Canada will vote next year. If you can vote in that election, think about Jasper, Banff, and the places you hold dear. Ask who on the ballot will care for such places. Let nothing distract you.
Make room to be awesome.