Emerald Lakes B&B Japan in the Heart of the Rockies

After a meandering journey through the Rockies, with our fuel gauge perilously low, we finally reach Canmore. Here, Mary of Emerald Lakes B&B greets us with open arms. Perched atop the quaint town, her B&B boasts a spacious and contemporary design. The grand living room, crowned with lofty ceilings, invites guests to relax, while the heart of the ground floor is dominated by a stately kitchen, complete with a vintage-style stove that harks back to a bygone era. Mary, already immersed in preparations, is a whirlwind of activity as Thanksgiving looms on the horizon. A feast of turkey, succulent baked ham, and an array of accompaniments await.

The B&B is abuzz with about ten guests, each with their own unique story. There’s Carole, the proprietor of Cedar Spring Bed & Breakfast; Richard, an entrepreneur whose British accent is as distinct as his burgeoning workload; Sergeant Don Cohn, a stalwart of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police; and Mike, a friend of Carole’s, a physical education teacher from England. At 50, Mike’s athletic prowess is undiminished, his sights set on scaling Everest alongside his students.

Mary herself is a towering figure of charisma, her artistic flair infusing the B&B with an eclectic charm. Her home, bathed in the natural light streaming through expansive bay windows, serves as a gallery for an exquisite collection of art. Paintings, sculptures, and Asian porcelain, with a special nod to Japanese craftsmanship, adorn the space. Her life, a tapestry woven from threads in Japan, the USA, and Canada, is as rich and diverse as her art. Mornings are greeted with elegant breakfasts, served on a teak table that offers a panoramic view of the majestic, snow-draped mountains.

Canmore and Banff, twin jewels nestled in the Rockies, exude the allure of alpine ski resorts. The towering mountains, cloaked in their wintry mantle, stand as silent sentinels to the passage of time. The era of fur-trading outposts, where trappers exchanged their wares, is but a memory. Travel back 117 years to witness the birth of Canmore.

Venture further still, some 11,000 years into the past, and behold the First Nations’ nomadic tribes. In the Bow Valley, they pursued the great game, their legacy etched into the land through remnants of their hunting camps. The Bow River Valley, a bountiful hunting ground, drew diverse groups like the Kootneys and the Peigans. The bows, crafted from the riverside trees by the indigenous hands, bestowed upon the river its enduring name.

The mountain known as Ehagay Nakoda, or The Last Nakoda, stands as a silent guardian over the town of Canmore. Its name whispers tales of a recent past, a testament to the enduring spirit of the Nakoda people. In the 17th century, fleeing the ravages of smallpox and the turmoil of internal strife within the Sioux nation, the Nakoda found sanctuary in the embrace of the Bow River region. Descendants of the Dakota Sioux from the verdant valleys of the upper Missouri River, they carried with them the echoes of their ancestors’ voices and the ‘Nakoda’ dialect of the Sioux language—a linguistic jewel still spoken today.

The Stoneys, as they came to be known—named for their ancient culinary technique of heating stones by fire to cook their meals—remained largely untouched by European influence. Their paths diverged from those of the white settlers, preserving their culture until the mid-19th century when Methodist missionaries made their presence known. The year 1877 marked a pivotal moment as the Blackfoot, Peigan, Blood, Sarcee, and Stoney nations relinquished their ancestral lands through Treaty 7. In return, they were promised reserves, sustenance, and monetary aid. Now, over 3,400 souls reside within the three reserves dedicated to the distinct groups of the Stoney nation: the Wesley, the Chiniki, and the Bearspaw, with the largest, centered near Morley, a mere stone’s throw from Canmore.

The year 1883 heralded a new era as the iron tracks of the Canadian Pacific Railway unfurled towards the future site of Canmore, a name bestowed in honor of the Scottish King, Lord Malcolm of Canmore. By 1887, the discovery of rich anthracite veins along the southern banks of the Bow River sparked an economic surge, intertwining the town’s fate with the fortunes of the mine.

Then came “Black Friday,” on July 13, 1979, when the mine’s closure cast a shadow of uncertainty over Canmore’s destiny. Would the town succumb to the silence of the abandoned shafts? The answer lay in the burgeoning tourism industry, which, after a tentative start, surged forward with the advent of the 1988 Calgary Olympics, breathing new life into the Rockies and Canmore’s future.