It’s 12:45 p.m., and the dull steel carriages servicing one of Canada’s most spectacular rail journeys are lurching away from the town’s quaint, snow-capped station. With a temperature of 10 degrees below zero Celsius (14 degrees Fahrenheit) and a weak winter sun already fading behind mist-cloaked mountains, it’s a good time to be inside.
VIA Rail’s two-day, 720-mile Skeena trek to Prince Rupert in northern British Columbia is a popular summer tourist trip, but in winter–when it’s transformed into a mesmerizing traverse of the region’s ice-covered wilderness–it’s like a secret only the locals know about.
While the train often has a dozen carriages during peak season, today there are just two–one seating car and one combined lounge, bar and domed viewing car. For the 15 passengers on board, this promises to be an intimate, relaxed and uber-cozy winter adventure, where the common stresses of train travel–finding a good seat, washroom lines and battling other passengers in the restaurant car–are mercifully absent.
As if not even trying to compete with the scenery, the passenger car’s interior is an institutional mix of grays and pale blues, with utilitarian Formica tables and aircraft-style seating providing comfort rather than looks. That’s just as well, since, within minutes of departure, most eyes are fixed on the view.
The ice-bound landscape around Jasper starts with battalions of flagpole-straight birch trees that eventually give way to dense copses of fir and cedar. Burdened with heavy coats of snow, these mini-forests roll away from the tracks and up the foothills of local mountains in undulating banks. As the straggle of houses on the outskirts of town quickly diminishes, it’s clear that nature is the dominant presence in this part of the world.
With three untouched magazines spread out around me–an insurance policy against trip boredom–it’s time to explore the train. Most on-board locals have seen this landscape many times, and many of them are already napping. In contrast, the tourists are easy to spot because they are glued, wide-eyed to the windows. There’s a middle-aged man from Boston winding through Western Canada in search of First Nation’s art, and an adventurous young New Zealander slowly returning home from Calgary.
Moving through the noisy, wind-chilled junction between the two cars, I enter the second carriage, our on-board recreation area. Squeezing down a narrow passageway past several locked cabins, I find a compact bar section where food and drinks are served from a corner counter by a jocular, craggy-faced attendant. This cozy compartment is lined with built-in sofas, and there’s even room for a TV.
While the bar-room menu is limited, there’s enough comfort food to keep most people happy. Hot dogs and cheeseburgers compete with beef stew, macaroni and cheese, and other microwaveable entrees. For most, though–especially those who have their own bag lunches–the ever-present fresh coffee is sustenance enough.
Back to the ’50s
The adjacent lounge compartment has the snug feel of a 1950s diner, complete with chrome fixtures. Lined with windows and comfortable seats facing inward, it tapers like the top of an egg, giving the train a rounded, streamlined tail. There’s a window on the tip that looks back down the tracks. Disturbed snow rises like steam from the rails here, creating an ethereal mist.
But the views from the dome are what attract most passengers. Located above the bar up a short flight of narrow steps from the lounge, the dome is like a semicircular greenhouse on top of the train. Windows curve from seat level across the ceiling, affording panoramic views of the engine ahead and the vistas all around. It’s the visual equivalent of surroundsound. Some passengers sit quietly here for hours in a kind of hypnotic trance, watching the uninterrupted natural world slip by.
There’s nothing cozier than viewing an ice-covered landscape from the comfort of a warm train. The blanket of snow becomes thicker as we travel farther from Jasper, but it’s hard to assess just how cold it is until we make a 10-minute stop in McBride, with the sunlight now almost gone.
The snow is swirling into a blizzard here, and visibility is limited. There’s just time to smoke a cigarette through clenched teeth or duck into the small stuccoed station for a takeout latte before we’re called back by Louise, our other onboard attendant.
By 4 p.m., it’s pitch black and the train has taken on the air of a drowsy Sunday afternoon at Grandma’s. Passengers are reading in their seats or breaking into small groups for a chat in the lounge. Some visual oddities penetrate the darkness: a Christmas tree decorated with lights (presumably next to a house, that we can’t see) and a startling field of fire licking hungrily at the night (a controlled forest burn-off, according to one of our attendants).
A few minutes before we reach Prince George for our overnight stay, Louise asks which passengers would like a taxi at the station. But the snowy city, B.C.’s northern capital, is walkable for those with light luggage. The train eases alongside the concrete block station at 7 p.m., and most of us head quickly to our accommodations, although some stop off for dinner or a beer along the way. Over-indulging is not recommended–we have to be back at the station at 7:45 a.m. for tomorrow’s departure.
The next day, a few new passengers join us for the final 12-hour leg to Prince Rupert. It’s still dark as we slip past auto shops and box buildings on the city’s edge, but within an hour the sun rises and blue skies arrive, promising camera-friendly views.
The terrain on the journey’s second leg is much more varied. While Day One was characterized by snowy forests and distant crags, today there are half-frozen streams rippling with shiny chunks of ice, tree-covered peninsulas stretching their slender fingers into wind-whipped rivers, and frozen lakes covered with thick coats of virgin snow. There are also wide meadows fringed with trees and deep valleys that open on either side of the train. Even the mountains seem closer.
Before midday, we catch sight of a coyote. Well-fed on hibernating field mice, it scampers to the center of a meadow and turns to eye us warily from a safe distance.
Later, we glimpse a pair of elk hanging around the tracks, where tasty grain often spills from passing freight trains. Eagles are another frequent sight today, although we’re not lucky enough to glimpse any of the wolves or bears that populate the route.
We also pass occasional farms, lakefront cottages and several disused pulp mills. The train remains an important link between the region’s people, and the engineer sounds his whistle as we pass homes and settlements along the route. At 2 p.m., we reach our main stop at Smithers. Here, the station’s Ironhorse Cafe serves up hearty soups and sandwiches and is well used to turning around takeout orders in the few minutes before the train pulls away.
As the afternoon light wanes, we suddenly hit the trip’s most spectacular mountain terrain. There are several tunnels and a couple of jaw-dropping trestle bridges here, but it’s the sharp peaks of the Coast Mountains that dominate. These looming gray crags seem to drain all color from the view–they look like they’ve been sketched in heavy charcoal on crisp white paper. It’s a fitting final taste of B.C.’s uncompromising winter wilderness as the darkness descends and we trundle on toward our final destination in coastal Prince Rupert.
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IF YOU GO
TRIP DETAILS
VIA Rail’s winter Skeena trip operates on Wednesday, Friday and Sunday, leaving Jasper at 12:45 p.m. and arriving in Prince Rupert at 8 p.m. the next day. Regular one-way tickets cost about $144 U.S., with discount rates of about $93 for bookings made at least seven days in advance.
Prices do not include the cost of a hotel stopover in Prince George. For more information, call 888-842-7245 or visit www.viarail.ca.
