Fram Strait – this and that Nov 1 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

Just some random images. Some of my own that I haven’t use yet, one not taken by me and some more from the last days.

15 October – the moonpool

If you have ice around the ship, it is good to have a moon pool, a vertical shaft inside a ship to give access to the sea. Here you can deploy CTDs without them being crushed by ice floes on the way up. Today temperatures got into double digits – in the negative range – and the surface of the moon pool has been freezing. The CTD itself is somewhere in the water below the ship, but no CTDs were harmed.

Every day – the food

If you are on a cruise with the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon there is a good chance that you gain weight. The meals are outstanding and sometimes the lunch provides more variety than a normal restaurant has on the menu. And then there are the Saturday dinners with steak and vegetables and potatoes and gravy. Now I’m flying back to Tromsø and that’s good, because one another week on the ship and I would just burst while eating.

25 October – clearing the ice

Sometimes the sea ice is welcome, for example for an ice station. Sometimes it is very unwelcome, for example for the recovery or deployment of a mooring, a “Christmas tree” of instruments on a long cable anchored in the ground and usually staying untouched for a year. Several times we had to change plans, because the ice was too compact and thick. However, sometimes we used the icebreaker to push away the ice, building an ice-free pool round the mooring’s location. That can look pretty funny on the navigation screen, where the ship’s track is displayed.

26 October – ice station

One day later there is an opportunity for another ice station; the tenth and last on this year’s Fram Strait cruise. I fly the drone again. Lia Lechler (UiT) from the sea ice team makes this nice photo where I am just about to start sending the drone up to an altitude of about 80 metres.

Me starting the drone (Photo: Lia Lechler, UiT)

27 October – it clears up

It was not easy to find a window to fly the drone the day before, because it drizzled for a long time. But today there is a clearer day in our cruise’s roller coaster weather. It looks like a sunrise or sunset but it is neither, because it is polar night and the sun stays below the horizon all day long.

30 October – arrival in Longyearbyen

After doing measurements in Kongsfjorden we do measurements in Isfjorden today. After dinner we have our expedition de-brief. Shortly after the last of 98 CTD casts is finished and we steam to Longyearbyen, where we started the expedition 17 days ago. Then it’s time to go out, feel the ground under our feet, walk to town and grab a beer.

31 October – rainy

The town looks quite dull, because it has +7 °C – much too warm for the season – and the snow in the valley has melted. It is raining.

longyearbyen-lataLongyearbyen in late October IIe-october-2

1 November – travelling back

Today it has become a bit colder and the rain turned into snow. Good for Longyearbyen, bad for our flight, which departs with a delay of 35 minutes. There are at least 16 people from the cruise on board this airplane and I cross my fingers that everyone gets their connecting flights, whether they go to Norway, France, Denmark, or in Scotland.

And if I get my flight, I’ll be back in Tromsø at 20:55.

I got it :-)

Kongsfjorden Oct 29 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

29 October

Yesterday we were on the open sea; last night we approached the coast of Svalbard. When I wake up, our position is 79° 2′ N / 10° 41′ E, about 15 km north of the northern tip of the island Prins Karls Forland. I can see the mountains, not through the scuttle (my cabin has none) but on channel 303 of the ship’s TV system.

When I go out right after breakfast, everything is foggy, but two hours later it has cleared up and for the first time in more than two weeks I see land again.

After lunch we have already taken the three westernmost CTD casts of our planned Kongsfjorden transect. Now we are heading east into the fjord. I’ve never been here before and I’m happy that the weather is clear. So I stand on the helicopter deck as I have done countless times before, but this time I am not alone. Most of the other cruise participants and some of the crew are standing outside enjoying the views of this extraordinary landscape, too.

To the right in the south lies Ny-Ålesund, a settlement that provides facilities for research activities to 19 institutions, among others the Norwegian Polar Institute.

Further and further east we go. We seem to skip a CTD station or two. Or all? It turns out that we first go all the way east to the glacier front of the glacier Kronebreen to use and enjoy the daylight and then do the CTD casts back west thereafter. For about two hours I stand outside and take one photo after the other. The others also take pictures with everything between a mobile phone and a large system camera. I use my Nikon D750 and three lenses – 24–70 mm, 70–200 mm, and 150–600 mm.

I am happy to experience this arctic landscape today, but I am also sad. I know that the human-caused climate change will change these landscapes drastically and that I probably belong to one of the last generations that can see glaciers calving into the fjords of Svalbard.

At around 2 o’clock we have reached our easternmost position. According to the ship’s navigational system we are south of the mountain Colletthøgda. According to the map service TopoSvalbard there is no open water south of Colletthøgda but the glacier Kronebreen. I’m afraid, the ship’s navigation system is right and the glacier has retreated a lot. The change has long begun.

I take some pictures in the early afternoon as well. The next photos are taken between 14:45 and 15:30 and you can see how dark it already is. The sun will not rise here before mid-February next year.

Around 19:50 – I am about to lose a card game – our cruise leader comes into the day room. She tells us that she has spotted a fog bow. Again I go out onto the helicopter deck – and it is still there. A flat, pale bow with the moon as a light source. I have seen a fog bow in daylight on another cruise two years ago, but never a lunar fog bow before. Pretty cool! Thank you, L.!

More ice stations and back to the open water Oct 26 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

22 October

After a day with drizzle and bad visibility, there is another ice station, starting around 78° 50′ N, 6° 15′ W. The first part is interrupted soon, because a polar bear shows up, forcing the sea ice team to go back on board and wait until this specimen of Ursus Maritimus has walked away far enough for the team to go back onto the ice.

After lunch I can go onto the ice for another drone flight. It is this flight that will teach me something about drone flying on the ice. It is cold, but everything goes fine. After flying I take a selfie and go back on board the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon. I enjoy the sun and take some photos from the helicopter deck.

When I get the first result of the orthomosaic – stitched together from more than 200 photos – I experience a surprise. The photo is – well – chaos. Perhaps because I added a wrong image? But the second and third attempts are not better.

Was it the GPS? Other sensors? What happened? To make it short: It was the drift of the sea ice. It was 0.4 knots this day, which does not sound extreme. Nevertheless, it is a drift of about 12 metres per minute and that adds up, when drone flying takes half an hour. Over the next two days I use some of my time to write a script to compensate for the drift by reading the position of the ship (which drifts together with the ice). And with this drift compensation, the orthomosaic creation finally works well:

23 October

Another day with an ice station. The ice team has it tough today with temperatures around -17 °C and a wind speed of more than 10 m/s. At the same time, it gets darker each day. Yesterday there were around three hours of daylight; today it is less than two and a half. Tomorrow it will be eighty minutes and then there will be polar night for almost four months.

In the afternoon I take another drone flight from the ice. Brrr! That’s cold. The second photo shows my caps and balaclavas drying – I wore them all, one above the other.

Cold weather stuff – everything was needed

24 October

For all those interested, we got a tour through the machinery spaces by maskinsjef B. I have a deep respect for the crew members working with these complex systems and who know so much about every technical facet of this icebreaker. I do not even try to tell you anything about it because I do not have the slightest clue about any of these components. Thanks for the great tour, B.!

At 3 o’clock in the afternoon, something strange happens – we are leaving the ice behind. The boundary between the marginal ice zone and the open water is like being cut with a knife. When I am on deck, it is already too late to see this cut. We have been in the sea ice for more than a week and I have grown accustomed (and fond) to it.

But it’s not for long; we return into the ice only hours later.

25 October

Some shots taken in the evening.

26 October (today)

Today we have the last ice station. It is pretty dark, the visibility is far from brilliant and it is drizzling. I get a message from A., who has discovered a rare guest in this region – a snowy owl sitting on an ice floe nearby. This is the best shot I get of it from deck 3.

A snowy owl on an ice floe in the Fram Strait

To my delight it clears up after a while and the drizzle has stopped. My last chance to go out on the ice again to take a series of drone photos for the sixth orthomosaic of this cruise. Despite the damp weather, the results turn out to be surprisingly good. (And yes – I used drift compensation again, because here we had a drift of 0.6 knots, which is 30 cm a second.)

Kronprins Haakon in the drift ice for the last ice station

In the afternoon, while I am playing table tennis with two researchers, we leave the ice again, this time for good. The rest of this week we will spend in open water (it’s fun to play table tennis in a ship that is slightly rolling) and continue with one of the main fields of this cruise that I haven’t mentioned yet: conducting CTD casts to measure Conductivity (and so salinity) and Temperature at different Depths. The oceanographers have already conducted 49 CTDs over the last two weeks and there will be many more. But that’s another story to tell.

Daily weather changes and another ice station Oct 21 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

18 October

Oh, what lovely weather we have on the ice station. After I have done my job, I take the opportunity to take a photo from the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon by drone.

Ice Station on the starboard side of RV Kronprins Haakon

That was 13:00. Six hours later, the weather has changed. It is snowing and the crosswind on the helicopter deck is so massive that I do not dare to step out more than one metre. I take a shot to the front and a very blurred selfie and go inside again.

19 October

As predicted, the weather has become worse. When I am on the deck again after lunch, wind speeds have increased to something between 22 m/s and 28 m/s and the temperature has dropped to -8 °C. So I take the selfie in the wind-protected hangar.

But I am in a luxury position. Most of my work here is computer work, done in the heated Conference Work Room. Others have a much tougher job. They are recovering a mooring. Although the cable is one of the shorter ones, it takes around two hours until the mooring is recovered, because the elements keeps tangling up the cable. This is outside work on deck 3, with overalls, helmets, balaclavas and goggles in storm conditions and wind chills below -20 °C. So, it’s not me who should complain about the weather.

Later in the evening, the weather becomes even more severe, with wind gusts above 30 m/s and temperatures dropping below -10 °C. A very good time to stay inside even when taking photos. So I take photos through the windows from the bridge. On the starboard side, the storm batters the ship with snow. On the port side, the snow swirls in all possible directions.

Snow storm in the dark – seen from the bridge

20 October

The next morning, the weather has changed again, this time for the better. It has become colder, with temperatures of -13 °C, but the storm is gone and so has the snowfall.

An ice station is planned. I will join it later, when the wind has decreased even more and it is a bit brighter outside. Although our position is -9.5° W, our ship time is Norwegian time and so sunrise is around noon. Around 10 o’clock, I stand on the ice with the drone I intend to fly. Will it work when it is still dawn?

The drone I use belongs to the Norwegian Polar Institute

Yes – it works! The ship provides a lot of light that illuminates the ice. Not only for working but also for the team on the bridge that is looking for polar bears. While their job is harder at dawn, my drone flies well, although it detects obstacles in the air that are not there.

When the sun finally rises, it is pretty spectacular. In high latitudes, it seems more to roll over the horizon than to lift up.

And the colours are incredible. The snow-covered ice floe we are in shows many colours but not white.

After lunch, the ice station is continued and have the opportunity for another flight. Some shots from the side:

Then I stayed outside to learn a bit about the calibration of the GEM2, an electromagnetic instrument that is used for measuring the thickness of snow and ice.

However, I do not fly the drone for leisure but to make orthophotos that show the ice situation from above. For that, I have to take many pictures and then – back on the ship – use both traditional image editing and special software to stitch the images together. The morning orthophoto was stitched together from 125 images, the afternoon one from 255 images. That took about an hour of processing on a fast computer.

Especially the latter photo has a good image resolution. Do you see the scientists out there with the GEM2 on a pulka sled in the photo below? It is taken from the orthophoto above.

The next day another ice station is planned.

21 October

… but never set up. First the visibility was too poor and then it was too windy. I couldn’t have flown a drone anyhow because first it was snowing and then, with rising temperatures, it was raining. So a lot of other work was done instead.

So – another ice station tomorrow? Actually, that’s planned. Tomorrow I’ll know a bit more.

A mooring, ice stations and the sun Oct 18 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

16 October

The polar bear is gone. The dinner has been eaten. Now it is time to recover F12, another mooring which is underwater and has measured a variety of values for 14 months. The ship’s echo sounder has already located it, so it has “only” to be released from the ground. There is only one issue – there is a lot of ice and to recover the mooring, open water is needed. The helmsman has already circled the icebreaker several times to create an ice-free area. When the mooring is finally released, the air-filled buoy pops up in the water, just two metres away from the searchlight. Chapeau! I mentioned in the last article the joint effort that is needed to get such a mooring with more than 1800 metres of Kevlar cable equipped with instruments from the sea onto the ship.

17 October

When there is ice, it’s an opportunity for an ice station. Again, this is teamwork. Besides the scientists on the ice, you need a polar bear guard with a rifle on the ice and three bridge watches on the bridge on deck 8 that are constantly observing the surroundings for polar bears, cracks in the ice, fog coming up, and other potential dangers. I handle the communication between the bridge and the team on the ice, and luckily nothing happens. The only thing I have to do is to keep track of the people who are on the ice.

There are my things: A bottle of water, my own binoculars (I have had them for more than 40 years), a VHF radio for communication and a notebook with a ballpen for taking notes.

I haven’t seen the sun for days, but now, while I am taking the second shift, the sun is rising from a low layer of clouds on the horizon. I can see its reflections in the windows on the other side of the bridge while the ice team works in the ship’s shadow.

For the rest of the day, I do computer work but interrupt it several times just to go outside and take some photos from the helicopter deck, which is on deck 6 at the bow of the ship. You never know how long the good weather will last. I am there while the sun is shining, I am watching the sllloooowww sunset, and I am there in the evening, when it is the ship that is illuminating the ice.

Ice on the Fram Strait, October 2026 III

Ice on the Fram Strait, October 2026 VII

I am already in bed when I see a post in our group chat mentioning Jupiter and Mars. I put my down clothes over my pyjama, put the helmet on my head and go out onto the “helideck” one last time for the day. The night is starry and there they are: Both Jupiter and Mars near the horizon, accompanied by many stars. But there are also big spotlights, which make the view somehow special. The stars are slightly out of focus, but I am showing a photo nevertheless.

18 October

Another day – another ice station. I will do the first bridge watch and then go onto the ice myself to fly a drone. Around 10 o’clock, the team enters the ice.

Two things are certain on an expedition with the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon. All meals are on time. Everything else may and will change. This time, it is a crack in the ice that I observe. I inform the team on the ice. I have to give several updates, because more and more cracks appear. After less than half an hour, both the team and their equipment are safely back on board, and the ice station is aborted. Between the first and the last of the following photos lie 18 minutes.

After lunch – the second try. I may join the team in the beginning, because, although the conditions for drone flying are not the best (mediocre visibility, low temperatures, high humidity), the winds will increase in the afternoon. It’s now, or never.

Fifteen minutes later, I am on the sea ice. At first, I let the drone fly at an altitude of only 2-3 metres for two minutes. I land it and check the propellers. Are they free and able to move? Is there visible icing? What about the battery? Luckily, everything looks fine. With a new battery I lift the drone up to 65 metres to fly a zigzag pattern to get a mosaic of photos to be stitched together later. The flying itself works pretty well, although I get some wind warnings on the display of my remote control. I have some minor issues with the camera gimbal and take another flight to get some backup photos. At the very end I take a snapshot of our icebreaker.

And a selfie or two. I am wearing a survival suit and a helmet from the Norwegian Polar Institute, a woollen sweater I bought in Longyearbyen two years ago and a balaclava knitted by my friend Christine.

When I have finished, I leave the sea ice. After redressing and a small break I take another bridge watch. Nothing happens, and so it should be. The exciting part comes thereafter. Are the photos – 126 in total – suitable for an orthomosaic? I mean, the single shots look like this:

Preview of the drone photos in Lightroom

An then, the relief: WebODM, the software successfully stitches together the photos.

Why does the image has this odd angle? Because it contains spatial data, so that it can be used in GIS systems. It is therefore aligned north. Here is a cropped version aligned parallel to the ship:

Will there be another ice station? I’m pretty sure. Probably not tomorrow, when we expect another strong gale, with wind speeds above 20 m/s. So I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, apart from one thing: all meals will be on time.

Into the ice, into the storm Oct 16 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

14 October

After encountering a small ice field in the morning, we reach the marginal ice zone. So it looks like round 16:00:

Less than an hour later, it looks like this:

At six o’clock, people are standing on the bridge, peeking into the snowfall, driven by the increasing wind. A mooring is about to be recovered. It has been collecting data for more than a year, and now its release mechanism will be triggered by a so-called hydrophone, allowing the air-filled orange buoys to float to the surface and making the mooring visible. Then it has to be located visually so that it can be towed onto the ship. Not easy, when it looks like this.

The buoy is spotted, and now the long cable, equipped with instruments at different depths, is pulled onto the ship. Not easy, because ice floes drift along and carry the cable with them, bringing them close to the ship, until the cable is released. A new version of ice fishing.

This is a good example of teamwork. You need experts on deck doing the manual work, a helmsman steering the ship with Fingerspitzengefühl, people on the bridge spotting the next buoy, and good communication between these groups. The first activity is successfully completed, with a wow-effect.

Watching the sea ice illuminated by the ships spotlights has its own beauty. I still cannot get enough from these views.

The weather, however, worsens. At 21:10, the wind speed reaches 20 m/s for the first time that day, and the temperature is dropping as well. It is snowing, and each snowflake leaves a bright trail, like a meteor. How will the weather be like tomorrow?

15 October

Over night, it has become even colder and windier. The temperature -10 °C and falling, and the wind speed is above 20 m/s and increasing. Ice floes cover the ocean. Now I’m glad, I brought my warmest down parka with me.

Two CTD casts have been completed today, but then it became too stormy to continue. I go onto the helicopter deck to take some photos, but the wind is so strong, that although I never thought it could actually happen, I’m afraid of being blown overboard. I can’t see much because I’ve pulled up the fur-trimmed hood of my parka to protect myself from the cold, and the wind blows the fur in all direction closing the hood even further.

In the evening – well, I managed to get a shot from the side of the ship, where I was slightly sheltered from the storm. When I went around the corner to the helicopter deck, I had to seek shelter because the storm was too strong. I took a selfie, but in a sheltered corner so that I could stand steadily and avoid getting frostbite on my hand while using my mobile phone.

16 October

At the risk of repeating myself, the weather looks even worse. I wake up at 5 o’clock, and the temperature is -15.4 °C with a wind speed of 26.2. That’s a wind chill of -32.6 °C. In mid-October!

If you have read this article so far, you might get the impression that I am here as a photographer, but I’m actually here as a data manager, and I spend a lot of time at my computer in the Conference Work Room. I just don’t write too much about my computer work here. I am making good progress, but the distractions are there, for example, the frost patterns on the outer windows. This one looks like a jellyfish made of ice.

Right after lunch I go outside once more, this time to the ship’s stern, where I had a better protection from the wind. Oh, how I love watching the sea ice gently drifting by or being crushed forcefully by the ship.

Ok, back to work. I’m almost finished with the day’s work when the others in the room suddenly jump up and disappear. A polar bear has been sighted in front of the ship. It takes me some time to put on my face mask, helmet, down parka, down pants, gloves, and boots, and to mount the big telephoto lens. Only then can I take some photos of the bear in the distance. It approaches at first, but then turns right and trots away.

Fram Strait cruise – departure Oct 14 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

12 October

The weather in Tromsø is clear, the mountains are white, and the reindeer are flying.

At least, it looks like this, while I’m sitting at Gate F18 of Tromsø Lufthavn, waiting for my flight to Longyearbyen, Svalbard. Some of my colleagues from the Norwegian Polar Institute are here as well. We are all going on board the research icebreaker Kronprins Haakon (KPH) for a cruise in the Fram Strait between Svalbard and northern Greenland for almost three weeks the next day.

On arrival in Svalbard, we get a lift to our respective hotels, where we stay overnight.

Passing Kronprins Haakon on our way to the centre

footpath to UNIS, where NPI has its office, too

13 October

Three of us were staying in Coal Miner’s Cabin, which is south of the centre. We share a taxi to Bykaia, part of the Port of Longyearbyen, where KPH is berthed. It has got warmer and it’s raining.

And here it is – the ship on which the 18 of us will spend the next three weeks together with the crew.

Just kidding! The RV Kronprins Haakon is actually lying in the other direction.

During the evening, the weather gets a bit ugly. It’s +5 °C, it’s raining and the wind speed is around 20 m/s. The sea state gets rougher and the waves grow higher.

14 October

In the morning the sea has calmed down and at a quarter past nine I feel the first small bump as a small ice floe collides with our ship. We have entered a band of pancake ice.

Now we are in open water again and the conditions are calm. Anyway, if Windy is right, we will get pretty rough weather tomorrow with a wind speed of around 18 m/s and an air temperature of -17 °C – a drop of almost 20 degrees. That would result in a windchill of -33 °C and I am very glad that I took my Canada Goose parka and trousers with me.

24–26 September – From dinosaurs to Emerald Lake Oct 10 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-09: Canada”.

24 September

My wife Annika and I are in Drumheller, Alberta, Canada. The weather is nice. There is a Pachyrhinosaurus with two youngsters standing in front of us. They do not notice us at all. Perhaps that’s because they are made of plastic. They stand in front of the Royal Tyrrell Museum of Palaeontology, and so do we.

The Royal Tyrrell Museum of Palaeontology

The Royal Tyrrell Museum holds Canada’s largest fossil collection and is famous for its dinosaur fossils. I am the first to get in when it opens. I just run through the museum to take some photographs before other people get in the there. After that, Annika and I go through the museum, taking our time. This museum is awesome! If I lived here, I would definitely have an annual pass to visit it from time to time.

After the museum, we take the car to Horseshoe Canyon. We go for a longer walk here on the countless small paths that lead through this badlands canyon. Be sure to have water with you and make sure you can find your way back, because the many hills make the place a maze.

In the late afternoon, we have another destination, the Last Chance Saloon, Alberta’s oldest operating saloon. They are about to close, but we get in and can sit in this extraordinarily cosy saloon and enjoy the delicious food. I order a “Badlands Brisket Taco Bowl” and am surprised to discover that the bowl does not contain any taco, it is made out of taco. And the smoked brisket – wow!

If you are in Drumheller, your day may start with a dinosaur and it may end with one, too. This is Tyra, the World’s Largest Dinosaur, a roadside attraction that we have passed several times over the last few days.

25 September

Today we head to Radium Hot Springs, which lies on the other side of the Rockies. It is a longer drive of about 400 km. First, we follow the grid-like roads through the prairies, then follow the Bow River until Castle Junction.

There we leave Alberta Highway 1 first and then Alberta altogether. We are back in British Columbia, where our journey began almost three weeks ago. Something interesting is happening. It starts to rain. We have had dry weather for weeks; now there is rain with everything from “I’ll drench you with a drizzle, even if it takes half the day.” to “Buy yourself an ark.” In Radium Hot Springs, we check in at the motel and take a nap. When I wake up, I see animals looking like goats on the property. I take a photo of a mother with two lambs. These are, of course, a bit cautious but not shy at all. It is only now, while blogging, that I learn that these are bighorn sheep, which are quite famous in Canada.

After dinner (goulash soup at the Old Salzburg restaurant) we take a walk before heading home.

26 September

Today we head northeast to Golden, where we’ll have an apartment for three days. It is the only place we booked well ahead, because we want to visit the Rockies and accommodation there is ridiculously expensive. It is still cloudy, but the rain has mostly stopped. To be honest, I am glad about yesterday’s rain. With the drop in temperature, it might have snowed in the mountains. Hopefully it did.

The road follows the Columbia River, which is not a single river so much as a system of river branches, islets, oxbow lakes, and swamps. Sometimes we take the main road; sometimes we take the small gravel roads on the other side of the river.

When the clouds lift, we get a glimpse of the mountains. There is fresh snow on the mountaintops.

We pass Golden to visit Emerald Lake, which lies between Golden and the Rocky Mountains. We take a hike around the lake, slightly distracted by a chipmunk running back and forth on the trail not far from the car park.

Then we start our trail. Although the first half of the trail is very easy to walk, it takes a long time. I’m to blame because I wait for the sun to shine on a certain part of the mountains on the other side of the lake. Halfway along the trail, it becomes a normal forest path with small bridges, slippery tree roots and some mud puddles. I have bear spray within reach; Annika carries a bear bell. So far, we haven’t seen a single bear, and I’m happy about that. Of course, it would be cool to see one from a safe spot, but I don’t want to meet one in its forest.

Tomorrow we will visit one of Western Canada’s most scenic routes, the Icefields Parkway, which crosses the Canadian Rocky Mountains in a north-south direction. Hopefully the weather will be as fine as predicted, and hopefully it won’t be too crowded.

23 September – Drumheller I – badlands and hoodoos Oct 8 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-09: Canada”.

23 September

After a night in the ~~village~~ ~~town~~ city of Red Deer my wife Annika and I continued our journey southeastwards. We are in the prairies now, which are dominated by farmland and large grain fields. While the terrain is slightly hilly, most streets are dead-straight. They go either north—south or west—east, making the map look like squared paper.

The fields can be huge from a Central European perspective. Sometimes there is an old barn, sometimes a grain silo and sometimes there is a pumpjack, because in Alberta oil is still being extracted. But mostly it is grain fields, some already harvested, some not yet.

Harvesters collect the grain, and lorries transport it, leaving a long track of dust behind. At one place we see a GrainsConnect plant with large silos for interim storage and a train to dispatch the grain further, most probably to the Pacific Ocean to be shipped overseas.

Of course I love the spectacular mountain views, the incredible rain forests with their old and mighty trees and the turquoise alpine lakes. But I also love the monotonous rhythms of these prairies. They are part of the Great Plains east of the Rocky Mountains, which stretch from Alberta and Saskatchewan through the USA into Mexico. (We didn’t drive that far that day ….)

You get into this rhythm of the squared patchwork, then you start to wonder what these fractal-like disruptions on the navigation map are, and all of a sudden you are in a completely different type of landscape – the badlands.

The plains are gone and now you are amidst these eroded mountains. Let’s hear, how Copilot AI describes the next image:

“Overall, I’d describe this as a well-exposed stratified badlands butte showing millions of years of sedimentary deposition and subsequent erosion.”

The area has sparse, desert-like vegetation on the sandy ground, including cacti like these plains pricklypears.

Then you drive further, a bit uphill and Bam! – you are in the plains again as if the badlands had just been a dream.

Now we are not far away from Drumheller, our destination for today, but first we have to check out the Bleriot Ferry, a cable ferry crossing the Red Deer River. The ferry operator tells us that we can (and should) use the ferry, that the road to Drumheller on the other side is closed, that we should drive there anyhow to the viewpoint, and that we could come back here thereafter. Sounds like a plan. We take the ferry – it is free, ignore the “road closed” sign and park on the small car park by the Orkney Viewpoint. And that’s an incredible viewpoint over the dusty Badlands – 72 million years old, the Red Deer River with its green, mellow banks and, in the distance the prairies. A perfect place to have a light lunch with bread, dips, and cookies.

We head back the very same way and take the ferry again. From there it is only twenty minutes to Drumheller where we’ll stay in a motel for two days. The town looks a bit like a dinosaur theme park – dinos everywhere! – because numerous dinosaur fossils have been discovered in the area, making it one of the most important paleontological regions in the world. The town is also home to the famous Royal Tyrrell Museum that we plan to visit the next day.

In the late afternoon, we take the car to Willow Creek, which is well-known for its hoodoos – geological rock formations created by erosion. Annika and I take a walk and gaze at nature’s art exhibition.

Before we drive back to the motel I want to take some better photos of the hoodoos, now that most other tourists have left. I take a first photo …

… and then slowly but surely the evening sun that hid behind a layer of clouds comes out and all of a sudden the hoodoos start to glow in the warmest sunset colours imaginable, as if they were glowing from within. I’m truly happy that I can experience that moment and that I have my Nikon at hand. This moment teaches me that if you want a good photo, look for a good subject; but if you want a better photo, wait for the light.

22 September – Red Deer, Alberta Oct 7 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-09: Canada”.

22 September

Sometimes it is not really my wife Annika and I who choose the exact place to go next, sometimes it is just the availability (and prices!) of accommodation. We want to go to Drumheller, but while searching for an additional stopover, we have found a hotel in Red Deer. Another town, locality, or village I have never heard of. They have several places to stay and there is even a small jazz festival going on with a concert today at 16:30. Perhaps some traditional jazz played by the locals? We will try to make it in time, and we’ll see.

After breakfast with fried eggs and fried potatoes, we pack our things in the car and leave the cosy Shunda Creek Wilderness Hostel – my all-time favourite hostel. First, we visit Nordegg including the Farmhouse Local Foods store, then we head east. We drive through large, golden barley fields with one stop in mind: Markerville, a village (or a hamlet for the picky ones) that has an interesting history connected with Iceland. I love the idea that such a small settlement had a library more than 130 years ago. You can read more on the website www.historicmarkerville.com/history.html.

From here it is less than an hour to the village of Red Deer, but …

At first, I think that Alberta Highway 2 that connects Alberta’s two largest towns Edmonton and Calgary is the only major road here. But then there are multi-lane highways everywhere, and highway junctions, and slip roads, and confusing roundabouts, and six-lane traffic lights, and everything that stresses me fiercely when I drive a car. I prefer a snowstorm to that. So it turns out that Red Deer is anything but a small town. It is Alberta’s third-largest city, with about 100,000 inhabitants and we didn’t know that. Well, that came as a surprise.

My image of Red Deer while driving a car there

(The map to the left shows my image of Red Deer I had in mind before going there. The map to the right shows my panicked impression of driving a car there. Both images have been created by the Copilot AI.)

I manage to get to the centre and we find a parking bay directly at the location of the jazz festival. A guitar player is sitting lonely outside, playing and singing the blues. We listen for a while, then go to visit some second-hand shops and decide to drive to the hotel to check in. I am very grateful that now Annika is driving the car. This town is too big for me and she is by far the better driver in cities.

Matt Blais on the jazz festival in Red Deer

Now that we are in “civilisation mode”, we do something else I wanted to do since we started travelling through Canada: eating at Tim Hortons, Canada’s largest quick-service restaurant chain, with about 4000 restaurants in Canada. I have to admit that I liked my bowl. The chicken was tasty and crispy, and there was a lot of salad and it is always nice to get some non-burger food.

After our meal, we head to the hotel, which has a swimming pool and a hot tub. Of course, we have to try it out.

Tomorrow, we will continue our journey to Drumheller, where we will stay for two nights.

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