We spent New Year’s in Banff with Darby, and for most of the trip, she wrote the daily update. I managed one. Hers are better, so I’ve put them in order and let her have the post. Mine comes first, from the middle of the week, because it explains how we ended up there..
How we got here, from me
I know Darby has been doing an excellent job keeping everyone posted (honestly, she’s a better correspondent than most humans), but I feel like I need to try, try, to describe the magic of Banff from my own perspective.
For the last few years, we’ve spent New Year’s in Victoria. One: we love that town. Two: it reminds us, annually, just how much we want to be Canadian. But last year it hit us. We’ve seen it all. Eaten it all. Wandered it all. At least three times, if not more. And while Victoria will always have our hearts, it felt like time to find somewhere new. Preferably Canadian. Preferably magical.
I’ve wanted to come to Banff since I was a kid, so I did what any responsible adult does. I impulsively booked a room last spring and figured the rest would work itself out. It ended up being sandwiched right up against our big Japan trip last month, so close together that we honestly didn’t fully process it until we were already home from Japan and suddenly packing winter coats instead of passports.
And wow. Just wow.
I casually mentioned to my dental hygienist that we were coming here. And listen, always trust your hygienist. Unless they’re talking about flossing more. She described Banff as magical and insisted we had to go. She was absolutely correct. I would put this place right up there with Japan, but in a completely different way.
Everywhere you turn is jaw-dropping. I swear they construct new mountain peaks overnight, because every morning we wake up, the view looks different. The mountains shift. The light changes. The drama increases. It feels personal at this point.
The town itself is quaint, cozy, and charming. But the surroundings? Completely unreal. Towering. Humbling. The kind of place that makes you stop mid-sentence because your brain needs a moment to catch up to your eyes. I genuinely don’t think I can adequately describe it, and that somehow feels fitting.
Some places live up to the hype. Banff somehow exceeds it. Now, back to our correspondent.
The drive: reporting live from the back seat
Hello friends. Reporting live from the back seat. Still.
This has officially become a two-day drive, which you know I love because I have often spoken about my deep passion for sitting still while landscapes blur by. As we climbed into the mountains, I hunkered down and assumed my travel posture: curled, alert, quietly judgmental.
At some point I was informed I am now an international dog. We crossed into Canada. No one stamped my paw, which feels like an oversight, but I’ll allow it.
The mountains were covered in snow and the roads were slick and bumpy, like they were actively testing everyone’s confidence. Pat drove most of the way while I focused on my secondary role: comforting Matt, who was having winter-driving flashbacks to Maine. I stayed close. I radiated calm. I did not ask unnecessary questions like are we going to slide.
We stopped for the night in Kamloops. I insisted on following Matt and Pat to dinner because this is a family trip, and families eat together. Also, I had boots on, so I was clearly dressed for the occasion.
The next morning we drove through the snow as it continued to snow across the Rockies. Things got a little scary at times, but Pat had it under control. I know this because he kept saying things like “it’s fine” and “we’re good,” which are phrases humans only say when they are definitely fine.
We finally arrived in Banff after nightfall and took a walk through town. It is very cold here, which is why I am thankful for my boots and my coat. I paraded through town in my outfit and received many compliments. I accepted them graciously, as a public figure should.
Back at the hotel, I immediately placed myself directly in the middle of the bed between Matt and Pat for optimal warmth and emotional balance. I slept deeply, proud of everything I endured today.
Tomorrow: Less driving. More sniffing. Still international.
Fashion update. Please sit.
Darby here. I have acquired a new coat and red boots. This was not optional. Management (Matt and Pat) made the decision, citing factors such as weather, safety, and “you shivered once dramatically.”
The coat? Warm. Structured. Slightly heroic. It says, “Yes, I brave the elements, but I also expect compliments.”
The boots? RED. Loud. Impossible to ignore. They make my feet feel like they’re wearing marshmallows that went to art school.
Walking in them was a learning experience. My legs briefly forgot how legs work. I did a few experimental steps that felt more modern dance than dog. But then, confidence. Strut engaged. Identity locked in.
People stared. Some smiled. One person said, “Oh my gosh.” Correct response.
I am now 30% warmer, 60% more visible, and 100% convinced I am important. If you see me outside in my coat and boots, please know this: I didn’t choose this life. But I am absolutely owning it.
Day 3: I have seen things
Good evening. It is Day 3. I have seen things.
Today we hiked up to Johnston Canyon Falls. Let me summarize: Beautiful. Stunning. Magical winter wonderland. SO COLD. SO MANY HUMANS.
The canyon was glowing. The waterfalls were frozen in that dramatic “nature showing off” way. The mountains looked like they were posing for postcards. Unfortunately, every other human on Earth had the same idea, so we all admired it together. Very closely. Shoulder to shoulder. A true bonding experience I did not consent to.
I was brave. I walked on ice like a professional athlete. People said things like “look at that dog!” and “she’s so calm!” which is funny because internally I was negotiating with gravity.
We did see elk. Huge, majestic, deeply unbothered by my existence. No bears. No moose. I remain vigilant. I check every bush. I take my job seriously.
After that we drove the Bow Valley Parkway, which is one of those drives where the mountains just casually keep getting better. Humans gasped. Cameras came out. I stared out the window like a thoughtful indie film character processing life.
Then we went to Canmore, where Matt and Pat told me The Last of Us was filmed. We walked around town and explored some trails. I sniffed things that may have once been zombies. Or actors. Hard to say.
Then, and I want to be very clear about this, they went and had a beer without me. I stayed behind, choosing grace. No zombies were spotted. Missed opportunity, honestly.
Tonight they are going out again, and I am staying in the room. This is not sadness. This is self-care. I have exceeded my daily quota of humans, compliments, ice, and small talk. I will now rest. Tomorrow I may socialize again. Or I may not. I am an international dog. I set boundaries.
Lake Louise, and the thin ice people
Good evening. Today we journeyed to Lake Louise. I was told it would be magical. This was correct. I was not told it would be packed.
Fun fact (from a dog who listened politely): Lake Louise freezes solid enough in winter for skating and festivals, and the color comes from “rock flour” in the water during warmer months. Winter version? White. Very white. Also windy.
There were many people. Some were not dressed for the minus degrees. Some were dressed emotionally for summer. Others appeared to have questionable judgment. This became clear when signs everywhere said THIN ICE. DO NOT WALK, and many humans said, “What if I just did, though?” and proceeded to wander across the lake toward the far reaches like background characters in a cautionary tale. We politely declined that storyline.
Instead, we took the path less traveled along the shore and climbed to a viewpoint above the lake. And friends, it was heaven. Just my guys and me. Very few Instagram celebrities. Minimal selfies. Maximum snow. I got to bury my nose in the snow. I stretched my legs. I breathed cold, clean mountain air. This is the content I signed up for.
After the hike, we headed into town. I went for a nap (excellent choice). Matt and Pat got lunch (rude but understandable). Later we wandered around the village, where I experienced my first train up close. It was loud. It was impressive. I pretended not to be impressed.
After the ride home, I opted for a quiet evening while the guys went off to the gondola and dinner. I stayed behind, cozy and content, reflecting on snowbanks and boundaries.
Final thoughts: I love this snowy wonderland. I love my boots. I love my people. I am still unsure about crowds. Tomorrow we shall see.
New Year’s Eve: close, but not quiet
Hello. Today we stayed close to Banff, but please don’t confuse “close” with “quiet.”
New Year’s festivities were warming up all day, emotionally, not meteorologically. The wind picked up this morning and delivered a very frigid breeze directly to my face, just in case I forgot where I was.
We started with a walk along the Bow River Trail, winding through the forest like a peaceful winter storybook, until the wind reminded us it was still in charge. The trail led us to the frozen Bow Falls, sitting dramatically below the Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel, which looks less like a hotel and more like a place where royalty or friendly ghosts might live. Matt and Pat stopped in to check it out and grab a coffee. I supervised from outside, ensuring no one forgot about me.
Next stop: the dog park. Friends, I met my Canadian counterparts. One was very loud. One was deeply committed to herding us instead of playing. It was all fun, though, and then, surprise, I saw another elk just casually existing nearby, like this is normal behavior here.
From there we drove up to Lake Minnewanka, just up the road. I wandered, sniffed, and met some very nice people. It wasn’t too crowded, but once again I noticed many humans wandering onto thin ice despite signs asking them politely not to. I am beginning to see a pattern.
After all these adventures, I was pooped and returned to my room to take my rightful place on the bed. Matt and Pat, however, went into town for a whisky tasting and dinner. I hope they had fun. I personally enjoyed my flawless nap.
Tomorrow we start our journey home. I have had so much fun. Banff is magical, truly. But also, so is my backyard. And my routine. And my own bed. I will miss the mountains. But I am ready.
And before I curl up for the night: Happy New Year to all of you. May your year be warm, calm, and free of thin ice decisions.
Home, and the boots come off
Hello friends. We made it home.
I got some excellent naps on the way, about six hours one day and six hours the next. Very efficient. As we drove, something magical happened: it slowly got warmer. The snow faded. The ice retreated. And eventually, I no longer had to wear my boots.
Let me be clear: the boots were useful. The boots were warm. The boots were also a personal challenge. They slowed me down. They robbed me of my natural elegance. They also made stairs feel like advanced math. So when they came off, I felt free.
I had a wonderful time on this trip. Truly. The mountains. The snow. The adventures. But there is something deeply comforting about being home, about familiar smells, familiar floors, and knowing exactly where the good nap spots are.
Favorite things from the trip: spending time with my family, hiking through the snow, and sticking my nose directly into the snow (important research).
I am happy we went. I am happy we’re back. Now I will resume my routine of naps, backyard inspections, and being near my people at all times. Thank you for following along.
Love, Darby
— Patrick (and Darby)