We ended up hanging with a birthday party.   I’m going to pretend to not remember the rest:

But it still feels like a road trip. It has that familiar sting:

This is what happens when you disparage the Quebecois. They are a feisty bunch.

This is the happy couple: we only remember Jean’s name.

The we met Little and Big John, a Scot and an Englishman, respectively, who both live sorta near Birmingham. Shropshire, I think. They kicked our ass in pool. Then we drank some more. Then they kicked our ass some more.

We made it down to the Magpie and Stump (with Little John, Big John went sleepy-bye-byes). Peanut throwing ensued.

John made a new friend.

… who felt compelled to pick me up … and then call me a fat ass.

Phaux drank a caesar. Which is like drinking a cappuccino after noon. Caesar are a gross take on a bloody maria, with Clamato (yes, clam juice) instead of tomato juice.

John notices Noush, who was pretty hot.

Noush’s rejection of me (her boyfriend was the bartender) shamed me into passing out.

Shots with staff …

Dancing with the waitress … first me, followed by John almost pulling her arm off.

Anyway, this is one of those Banff “must-do’s”.  The food is just good, not great, but you can’t beat the atmostphere.  And table-to-table calling.

The cheese fondue …

The sauces and the meats …

The bison head, available for purchase for $4000. Really.

I’ll miss you, Banff. I will be back.

This is the place we couldn’t get into last night… Love the skirts and knee-highs….

So Zoo decided to go black again today… and eggplant is close, right? Still gets a NOT FAIL. It takes really bright light to reveal the real hue.

Last night brought back those memories … what a night. Where to start …

We tried to go to the St. James Gate, but the line was not moving. While we were in line, this cute blonde was smoking behind us, by herself. More on her later.

Instead of waiting in the not-quite-bitter-but-still-scrotum-tightening cold (which makes me wonder, are scrotums and nipples made of the same stuff?), we headed to the Rose and Crown, a faux English pub.

Yes, it’s St. Patrick’s Day, and we’re celebrating it in an English Pub.  Oh Well. Much, much more after the break…

We played pool for a bit … won our first game, got destroyed the second time around, by Agrologists.  Is that the science of being Agro?

We also talked to the only other non-Asian minorities in Banff.

When the one man show started, we didn’t know what to expect. In the end, this guy was funny, talented, and rockin’.

The crowd swelled and we were now in a very warm, very packed bar.

About that time, I noticed a super cute blonde at the turn by the stage.  She was sitting with a slightly less cute friend, AKA the grenade.   I took Phaux out for a cigarette, and explained to him that his duty as a wingman was to fall on the aforementioned grenade.  At this point, we re-evaluated the grenade, and determined that she was in fact a mortar shell.

Anyway, this is Phaux finishing doing the worm to an Irish Jig, in order to impress our targets.  Take that, River Dance!

Shortly thereafter, I did the superman across the laps of our targets.

The mortar shell did not explode on impact, but started ticking.

The girls kiss … now the question becomes, is this an opportunity for a three-and-a-half-some?

I believe that her arms are thicker than my legs.

This is actually the cute one …

Using the headband as a prophylactic … Am I Macguyver or what?

Some other drunk annoying girl tried to enter the mix and was denied.

I got a little too fresh and Leslie revealed that she had a boyfriend.  Ugh.

After I playfully rubbed a dirty bar rag in her face, she returned the favor …

Followed by straw sillyness … at this point we’ve each had a few beers, a couple shots of Jamesons, and about 4 Jagerbombs.  Yikes.

We show off our Rock Band skills ..

Unfortunately, I am not that flexible.

I promised penetration .. and here it is .. full on nostril-rape.

Delectable!

Apparently, the nostril-rape was a big hit …

That was the last we saw of those two (well, almost …) … but after a quick smoke, we ran into the blonde, Haley, who was in line (at the beginning of the post, keep up!).  Her friend with the faux-plastic-barbie look was less memorable.

Phaux found a new object of his affection, Holly, with an H.

Haley goes for the nuzzle.

Then Holly looked like she was going to collapse, so we high tailed it back to our hotel before we got accused of dropping roofies.

When I got back to the hotel, I realized I still had Leslie’s ring … oops.

Awesome night … thank you gods of the road trip, you came through again.

Download a hi-res here.

Link to Google Map

Download a hi-res here.

Link to Google Map

Stunning. Amazing. Breathtaking. And somewhat dangerous. Definitely qualifies for our “Best Roads on Earth” series.

I handled all the voting. Zoo said my mohawk is called “the Blum.”

Jasper is not a hopping town on a Monday night… I guess that’s fortunate. If we go out to a bar looking like this, everyone might think we’re a gay couple. Which we are not. Seriously.

Looked good in B/W, too.

Then the clouds rolled in and I tapped the brake lights a bit for local lighting. Hey, whatever it takes!

(apologies for the bad re-compression by Wordpress… the images are not icky like these show up…)

Ummm… You can’t avoid the latest Toyota commercials right now. The premise of it is Canadians abroad who visit a Canadian theme park. Canadian hilarity ensues, including Shoot a Puck, Knit a Toque and this promotion with Tim Horton’s. Which, by the way, it’s the same here in Canada as it is in America:

We also have moose behind the police cars at our chain coffee houses. See him? 

OK, so on the coffee cup, the rules state:

“Skill testing question required for Canadian residents.” Ahem, on to the website PDF.

Before being declared a winner, each Canadian selected entrant must first correctly answer, unaided, a time-limited, arithmetical, skill-testing question to be administered by telephone at a mutually convenient time. 

I am confused. You have to answer a math question to qualify? Perhaps Americans should consider this, too. “Hello? Yes – if a train leaving Sacramento at 11:15am approached a train leaving Los Angeles at 1pm…” We just have to be breathing to qualify.

When we arrived last night in Kamloops, our hotel was right next to the Curling Center. I was excited! We went in and asked if we could learn/play/photograph. Warm reception – great people!

Alas, when we came back at 9am this morning (their suggestion), neither the Russian National Women’s Curling Team or anyone else was there… Shucks. I really wanted to learn how to Curl.

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Download a hi-res version here.

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The whole road is basically an avalanche or falling rock or flood zone. Beware.

Phaux, how could you not get a picture of her skirt??!?

Some napping ensued. Some gear rental for tomorrow, and some orange long-john buying. Seriously.

Then night descended on the village and we journeyed out for dinner at Tapley’s, where our waitress kindly reminded us to use protection on the receipt for dinner. Photos galore, including some fist-swinging action aimed at Zoo (who else?).

Lots of snow today – 8:30am we’ll be on the slopes tomorrow. woo-hoo!

Download a larger JPG here.

We found it in the unlikely place named FURRY CREEK. No Second Life jokes, please. It’s a gated community. Well, who knows what goes on behind those gates?

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I have a massive pano to work on – will post later. Also, Zoo grabbed a live mussel from the mossy shoreline, cracked it open and… Well – wait for his post.

That was only 1/2 tank on the lowest grade.

He claims that he “fell down”, but we welcome your theories in the comments.  Gross.

Download a larger version to see it bigger.

Stitching a pano from river sometime soon.

Apparently, yes.

We’re staying in Yaletown, which is very similar to Soho in NYC. Irony abounds. Or maybe it’s deliberate. Irony can be deliberate. 

I won a legitimate game of pool by dropping the 8 ball in our first game. W00t! Must be the second time I’ve beaten Zoo…

We went out for a smoke and met up with Jill and a gal who is also a photographer (I apologize – I forget your name! Beer does that to me. Shoot me an email and I will fix it). She proceeded to berate me about not using a flash and my photos being out of focus. I tried to appease her, and that was my first mistake. After trying that out, I went back to doing it my way with available light and at f/1.4. Right then things got better and suddenly we were best of friends!

BTW, she shot the photo of me at the top of the post. Phauxtogs unite! Brothers and sister in glass, be happy with your depth of field and composition. We went inside and Zoo invited Jill to play pool and she nearly kicked his ass, too.

Zoo almost took himself out with a pool cue, he was so worried.

Fun bar – Fussball tables were hopping.

Not far down the street, an apartment dweller didn’t feel like going downstairs for a smoke.

And in our crazy hotel, this is the lighting in the elevators. Too swank. Too swank.

So while were were there, we stopped at a Toronto legend, Rodney’s Oyster House.  It was way out of the way, it felt like it was almost in North York.  Who knows.  I just remembered the fried clams, delicious oysters, and the hot dog.  Yes, I had a hot dog at an oyster house.  Don’t ask.  Since then, I’d been back to Tortonto many times — most spectaculary during the SARS quarantine, blaster virus, and northeast blackout, but I never made it back to Rodney’s.

Today, walking around the corner from our Yaletown hotel,  I spotted the classic Rodney’s sign.  Of course, that’s where we’re eating.  Yum.

Photos below, but in short:

Oysters: Yes. Chowder: Yes.  Bread Yes:  Oysters Rockefeller: Maybe. Garlic Shrimp: No. Cougars: Yes.  The place is a bonafide cougar den.  Enjoy.

I hope you all appreciate it! We do it for you. Only you.

No worries, we got everything straightened out …