Many, many moons ago on an early spring day, I ventured forth on one of my many trips to Alaska to cut timber. Up into Canada through Banff I drove singing and rejoicing in the Lord for my new life in Christ. Only those who have experiences this passing from death into life know how I felt.
Looking onto those impressive Canadian Rockies reminded me of the last time I drove this way late at night. The stars all shined friendly and then the magnificent aurora – “the dance of the spirits” as the Cree call it. It was a sight to behold it was.
Upon arriving in Jasper, it was my understanding from history this town started out as a fur post called Jasper house. One building then. Man if those old trappers could see it now.
Be’n it was Sunday evening, I reasoned I might find some fellowship. Having spotted a church building of popular denomination, I entered therein. Some folks standing around when I asked about a Bible Study. The pastor seemed to wonder where I came from and my business in Jasper. I let them know I was headed to Alaska to cut timber and planned to spend the night.
I surmised I said the wrong thing seeing their demeanor changed. Be’n this here town was a fancy tourist trap, they didn’t cotton much for loggers. So I left the Sadducee’s and found a bed in the basement of some nice folks and at a working man’s price. Not having eaten since breakfast and old stomach growled like a bear, I reasoned a little fast wouldn’t hurt me. At least I had a good bed while my Savior had no place to lay His head.
Anyway, dawn was bringing on the morning when I headed for the town of McBride. A faint old moon hung into the timber and the tape deck was sing’n “all is well with my soul.”
The only critters I saw were moose and wolves. It was probably a toss-up who would get the ol’ bog trotter first. My bet was he’d die much quicker by train. The highway followed that rail line and what seemed like a never ending line of cars. It helped keep my mind off the bear that was still growl’n. I knew of a great little café from several years before. I was ready for flagjacks!
Sure enough it was still there, the Chinese cook looked more than able and gave me a tall stack to end all tall stacks. Not many people there so I asked the cookie where all the loggers were, “Most gone, good men loggers but most gone.” Perhaps McBride was destined to be another tourist trap.
Anyhow, I thanked the good cook and headed on down the highway for Prince Rubert. The best is yet to come.
Reader Comments(0)