Part 5 of the Odyssey:

Panorama to Calgary

Well, Wednesday March 26 found us waking up at Panorama. TB woke first, performed his habitual nose-check (necessary with the ever-present possibility of his having inhaled it during the night) and made coffee.

The deal we were on was 3 nights sleepin' (or snorin' in his case) and 2 days' skiin'. But we were walloped and didn't want to ski that day, so TB rang the resort people and changed our ski passes to the following 2 days. However, as we discovered, they stuffed it up and we got the next 3 days! So, we trundled around the resort a bit, and then took off to play in Invermere and to visit Fairmont hot springs. As we rolled out of Panorama, the Van little realised that it would never again see Panorama. Neither did we.

The fascists at Fairmont wouldn't let me into the hot spring (they didn't like my swimming attire). I reckon TB bribed them, so he could attempt to Hunt Women without my interference. Anyway, after about half an hour every female under the age of 50 suddenly scuttled from the pool, so he did too (see picture of Fairmont).

Cranked up the van, drove out onto the road.....and the van self-destructed by boiling the engine beyond recovery. We fed it a lot of water but it was rooted. We stuck our thumbs out ("look female" instructed TB, smart alec) and a nice lady picked us up & drove us to a garage. Got a towtruck out, (I made friends with towie by telling him how much we paid for a ford F-150 in Oz), arranged the hire of a Neon, decanted 5 pairs of skis into it, and retreated back to Panorama to lick our wounds.

Thursday: Nice weather. Decided to ski! Discovered Panorama boasts some great scenery, very very long runs (some excellent cruisers, and tree skiing for tree people), good quality snow and no crowds. We explored the resort, tried out all the lifts, viewed some moguls, then knocked off to go and change hire cars (TB had found a better deal).

We drove to Cranbrook/Kimberley airport to collect new car (Pontiac trans-something). It was quite a hike. Now the fun began. I had to drive the Neon back to Invermere behind Scott. Not a problem. Got my licence in 1980. Hang on! steering wheel's on the wrong side. Hell! Everyone's driving on the wrong side! Help!!!!

Apparently I drove the distance with my right-side wheels hanging off the road...

We went for dinner at the resort restaurant, and experienced the Crappiest Pizza in the World. We took the remains back to our room, and left it in the wardrobe as Revenge.

Good Friday: Skiied a Looooooong run called Schrober's Dream pretty-well all day. It just went on and on for ever. Cruiser's dream. TB kept gibbering on about how much vertical it was. He gibbered in feet, not metres, so you'll have to ask him what it all meant.

Then we de-camped to find a motel in Invermere, so we could return to claim our free ski day on the morrow. We found a funky little place at Radium, called "Tuk-in". True. Tragedy loomed, however, as I felt a cold coming on. My colds usually involve hospital, oxygene tents and much misery.

And here, TB demonstrated that he had missed his true calling. I crawled into bed, while he went and foraged for medical supplies & provisions. I was presented with some echinacea, a big glass of orange juice, and much beef stroganoff (sans mushrooms). It was very therapeutic to lie in bed a watch him fussing about about our unit, resplendant in his skiing tights. Did me a power of good. Next day, the threatening cold had passed on, and we returned to Panorama.

This day, we skiied the almost-top t-bar (powder!), TB destroyed the snowboarder's park (next to the deck where photos taken) and then we found the Downhill Course. Groomed to perfection, deserted...it was ours! TB managed to topple over on the cat-track whilst admiring the TREES, and I made the mistake of laughing. I then discovered that, when motivated, I could actually ski faster than he...

What else happened at Panorama? Well! TB spied a young lady with much blone hair, stretchy pants, and a headband-thing with "Vail" on it. His eyes lit up. He approached. She eyed him, assessing the cost of his ski suit & his evidently prosperous diet. He then proceeded to explain that he was the Prophet of Vail etc etc while I pretended not to know him, and watched as the girl's bewilderment was replaced with a knowing look. She was accustomed to Old Men making fools of themselves in front of her.

Another time, I'd incurred TB's wrath (the usual reason) and he decided to ditch me at the chairlift and ride up with a somewhat more mature woman in a fetching purple ski suit. When we reached the top, he and the Lady appeared to be getting on OK (obviously he did not mention the Prophet of Vail this time).

I said: "come on Dad, Mum (mom) will be waiting".

He gave a roar of indignation.

She thought: "What an ugly little son that man has" and took off, never to be seen again.

We regretfully left Panorama, and drove off thru Kootenai National Park, headed for Calgary. Saw some indescribable scenery on the way, only to be utterly disappointed as we approached Calgary which was flat, brown, dirty, dull...Finding a cheap motel was futile. We ended up in a place which should have been OK, but was badly run, dirty and smoky.

We spent Easter looking at Calgary with increasing disgust until we could take it no more and headed in desperation back towards Kananaskis country.

Thus ends the 5th installment. Next chapter, TB meets a snowboarder and enjoys it, TB stays in a Youth Hostel and tolerates it, and we ski The Worst Ski Area in the Universe.

TB has been sitting in his cave feeling happy because I forgot to include a tale in the Panorama story.So here it is.

TB never falls over. He skis fast, with the occasional token, gradual turn, mainly for show.

One day we skiied back to Pine Lodge. They'd groomed trails around, and left a big expanse of deep, crudded-up melting snow. I skiied over a bit of it, and stopped in the middle, loudly complaining about how revolting it was.

Getting no answer, I glanced down the hill a bit, to see a strange sight. I saw bits of TB flailing about; here an arm, there a foot. He wasn't getting anywhere. So I shuffled over. One ski was lying by, the other was buried about 1 1/2 feet down, wedged in firmly. TB heaved and lurched about, but everytime he put his weight on an arm or leg, the whole lot sank into the rotting snow, which appeared to be bottomless.

I got his free ski and used it to lever out the submerged one. TB still flailed and flopped.

"Try rolling out" I suggested.

And, bugger me, that's just what he did!

He carefully straightend himself out, aimed at the trail, and desperately rolled out of the quick-snow.

The denizens of Panorama got a treat that day!

	Somewhere in there, TB is attempting to Meet Women.
	TB loves a camera...
	...whereas I do not. And the feeling is mutual. Note respective camera angles... On the deck of food hut at Panorama
	TB introduces New Bear and Doggie. Doggie plans to eat bear. Sneak preview of 97/98 Olins in background.

Back to my Home Page