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The Icefields Parkway threads a valley between the eastern and western Rockies , 140 miles of wild rock sculpted by glaciers , frost , wind and rain . The road barely demands attention , which is good . I feel I am moving down the aisle of the world ’ s biggest big-box store . To the east are a series of overthrust mountains , steeply sloped on one side , almost vertical cliffs or escarpments on the other . To the west are dogtooth mountains , rock turned on its side to form spikes and spires . Sawtooth mountains with spires separated by gullies . Castellated mountains — the so-called layer-cake mountains that resemble buttresses and towers . And horn mountains sculpted on three sides by glaciers . The mountains are raw , wilder than anything in the Colorado Rockies .
We see bighorn sheep and a stranger form of wildlife . A man in a suit sports a bike helmet with a flashing red light . He sits atop a unicycle , pedaling his way through the park . OK ….
We buy necessities in the totally cool town of Jasper , continue past the retreating Columbia Ice Field , travel beneath the Bow Glacier hanging above a lake , before ascending a spectacular mountain pass to our overnight in Golden .
Lesson : Stop counting the days .
DAY SIX : Over coffee Don notes , “ Yesterday I was riding on rock . It didn ’ t feel green . Today is green .”
I ’ d noticed the same thing . The mountains have receded behind pine trees . The river winds through a valley that is blatantly fertile .
We ride Route 93 along the flank of the western Rockies , past farms and cattle ranches , logging operations and golf courses . One of the reasons we travel is to see road signs you don ’ t find at home . We pass wildlife signs with silhouettes of caribou , deer ,