FROM CALGARY TO VANCOUVER AND BACK

December 2020

 In recent years, it seems I favoured the peaks of Banff National Park to the detriment of his twin brother, Jasper. Being an hour away from Banff made Jasper almost unreachable. And instead of revisiting the northern park, I left it anchored in my memory. Last summer, we found ourselves wandering the Icefields Parkway for a quick gateway, pulling over along one of Canada's most picturesque roads until we ultimately reach Jasper. And although it was unexpected to get here, I quickly came up with the plan of exploring a place I had heard of several times; Maligne Lake.

Under the right times, the road that leads to Medicine and then Maligne lake is the ultimate location to spot some of the most iconic Rockies' wildlife. From the shy moose to impressive grizzly and elusive caribou.

Mid-day, the furry beasts were retiring deeper in the woods. We slowed down once we entered a charred valley of burnt trunks surrounding the windy shores of Medicine Lake.

The shores of Maligne Lake were busy. Cars were lining up down to the boat launch and all around, travellers portaging their canoes to the shallow waters. There was no canoe left on the boathouse's deck that stood on the other side from the boat launch. Most seacrafts were sailing towards the southeastern shores and the well-known Spirit Island.

We didn't get our feet wet that day, but I knew I would come back.

December came, and I found myself back on the road, between Calgary and Vancouver - preparing our future move back to the Pacific Northwest Coast. It seemed like the perfect occasion to stop by Jasper through the Northern route instead of cruising the main highway 1 I took a few weeks earlier from Alberta to British Columbia.

From Vancouver, I headed North through Clearwater and Blue River, and I entered Jasper in the darkness of a late winter afternoon.

Lately, I felt the need to concentrate further on motion pieces instead of still photographs. I still loaded a roll of Kodak Portra 400 in my Kodak Elan-7 but tried to keep my Canon EOS R on video mode. Furthermore, I had acquired a new tool that I was eyeing for several months now: the DJi RSC-2 Gimbal.

I chose a minimal approach, using only my EOS-R with the Sigma Art 24-70 f/2.8, the RSC-2 and a tripod. Although I was planning several dynamic shots with the gimbal, I also planned for well-composed wide and long shots set on a tripod — letting the landscape slowly evolve in front of the lens rather than forcing the action through the power of gimbal shot.

In the span of ten days, I drove twice through Jasper, filming hours of footage. It's only once back in the editing room that I noticed the number of clips I had shot. It quickly became overwhelming, and I soon realized that the first rough cut I had was lengthy and unbalanced. However, reviewing over and over my footage, I found two recurring motifs: mountains and water — surrounded with a common theme: Ice.

Glacialis Montibus focuses on the immobile yet evolving state of mountains. They carved most of our maps, creating natural borders. Often unreachable for most, we are still drawn to their countless peaks and crests. But it takes dedication and training to ascent these sleeping giants. If a foggy teal peak looks menacing under a dark and low sky, the same peak can also look soothing and beautiful under the warm sunlight.

Passing through the Columbia Icefields reveals the impact of Global Warming on these mountains of ice. Often quoted as Mer De Glace (Sea of Ice), Many of the Glacier's frozen waves recedes every year — leaving a bare rocky bed on the mountain's sides.

I didn't ascent mountains that time as alpinism is still relatively unknown to me. Instead, I watched with the eyes of a simple traveller slithering the roads between White Giants; and dreamt of a day when I too will escalate the steep moraines and crests of these legendary peaks.

A hike through Maligne Canyons inspired Glacialis Aquae. We started from the upper canyons, witnessing frozen waterfalls lit with the dimmed blue glow of early morning. As the sun rose in the sky, we scrambled down the icy trails, hearing fainted dripping sounds down below in the canyons. It grew louder and louder until we saw the rumbling loose water bursting out under snow-covered ice sheets that carpeted the canyon's ground.

We followed the sparse water running down the gorges that stretched into teal-coloured streams so clear that you could see river trouts swimming the calmer currents of water holes. The pebbly river bed shared the texture of pointillism paintings where colours aren't blended but instead juxtaposed. From mountains to valleys, valleys to the coast, we found our path tangled with the same water that fed the rivers and streams we rode alongside.