Tag: Calgary

Return to Prairie Mountain!

Just as Santa can be counted on for a visit in late December, we look to my friend Tim to reveal the details of the annual Prairie Mountain Winter Sunrise Hike. True to form, Tim set the date for the 2025 hike on December 29. Sunrise on that day would be, within a few seconds, the latest of the year.

Working back from a target of 8:39:33 a.m., our convoy of eight hikers met up at the Tsuut’ina Subway on Buffalo Run Boulevard at 6:10 a.m. With practiced efficiency, we were geared up and on the trail by 7:00 a.m. We expected to have ample time to reach the summit.

I’ve posted on our previous PM hikes, and I’m pleased to say these pieces have been popular. In 2023, I shared photos of a beautiful sunrise in Part 1: The Hike and delved into the mysteries of the celestial world for Part 2: The Science. We were not deterred by last year’s cloudy conditions—you can read about that hike here. This year’s forecast suggested that the star attraction would likely make a return appearance.

For readers who are unfamiliar with Prairie Mountain, it is the most accessible mountain for Calgary hikers. Accessible doesn’t mean easy, though—this is a good workout at any time. Last year, I noted that the hike seemed to be tougher than what I remembered. This time out, I had the same feeling. I’m not sure I like that trend! One foot, then the other. Repeat.

The Hiking Bit

Given the snow-packed conditions on the trail, I was (again) very thankful for the new stone steps on the toughest sections. Even so, I welcomed a short pause at the first lookout, where we switched off our headlamps. I couldn’t help but notice the vibrant orange light to the east, which was already impressive as we approached the summit ridge. Were we too late?

Because any PM summit is an impressive achievement, here’s my Strava activity summary.

A few words on equipment. I decided to bring my “good camera”, the totally manual Leica M10. It’s a wonderful camera, but when you are bringing up the rear in the dark, as I was, adjustments are challenging. That meant I came home with blurry shots of my hiking partners’ backsides and severely underexposed images. Overall, I think the Ricoh GR III is better suited to this task. As always, my Kahtoola Microspikes and ancient red Komperdell poles were a necessity.

As usual, our group set a steady pace. (I hang around with some very healthy folks.) It’s hard to blame my comparatively slow pace on my photographic duties unless I present a few photos. So here’s the evidence!

Note: Copyright for all pictures is mine

We enjoyed the relatively mild temperature (-5C) and the shelter of the treeline for most of the hike. However, as soon as we reached the summit ridge, we were immersed in a strong westerly wind. We slogged the rest of the way up the ridge. The small Canadian flag on the summit cairn was no match for the stiff breeze. We headed for the shelter of a few scraggly trees below the summit to wait for the rest of our group. With fingers losing feeling, operating cameras and zippers became almost impossible. There was no loitering at the top on this day!

The Technical Bit

Given the challenges I mentioned with manual camera settings, I thought it might be interesting to present a comparison of my pre- and post-editing for one of this year’s key PM shots. I suppose this is called making lemonade out of lemons.

Of course, everyone hopes for a good group picture at the summit. This year, we imposed on a solo hiker who reached the summit just ahead of us to do the honours. Now, my comment that “the settings should be fine” must be tempered with the reality that I didn’t actually look at these before handing over the camera. Yes, I was freezing, the wind was howling, and for all I know, he had never touched a manual camera before. I’m fully to blame for any technical shortcomings. That said, my heart sank when I saw the images straight out of the camera. However, with some comprehensive (and slightly desperate) work in Lightroom Classic, I managed to extract a passable image. You can compare the before and after image here:

A hardy group celebrates another Prairie summit!

At the risk of losing some readers, I’ll summarize the edits I made to this image in my attempt to rescue it. First, I increased the overall exposure significantly—a whopping 3.5 stops. I think the meter was fooled by the sun in the centre of the image. Then I dropped the sky by a stop, and raised the foreground by almost another stop. I raised the white balance to warm the image up slightly. I dropped the highlights, mostly around the sun, and raised the shadows. Then I increased the saturation, clarity and dehaze. That left me with a noisy image, which I tried to fix using the latest AI tools in Lightroom. In the end, I gave up, as all this did was create artifacts that were, to my eye, worse than the noise.

So, as long as no one looks too closely, this is a fair reminder of what it felt like to stand on the summit that morning. My homework for next year is to be better prepared.

Wrapping Up

With the start of a new year, one is often moved to contemplate things that truly have value and be thankful for people who are important in life. I’m very fortunate to be surrounded by like-minded people who value fitness and friendship. And we are all blessed to have special places like Kananaskis just a short drive from home. Thanks, Tim, for getting us out there and up there again.

The annual winter solstice hike was a great experience and a perfect end to the year. Oh yes, the post-hike coffee and baked goods at the Handle-bar Cafe in Bragg Creek were delicious. And well earned.

Until next time, be well, BE FAST—and Happy New Year to all!

Urban Sustainability? Hardly!

We live in interesting times in Calgary. I’ve formed strong opinions about what I see happening in my city. For many reasons, I think we’re on the wrong track. From what I’ve seen recently in other large Canadian cities, the same things are happening there, too.

One of the first pieces I wrote for this blog was on the topic of sustainability. You can find it here. My focus then was on objects that are perfectly designed for their intended purpose. They are sustainable, in that they can be expected to work perfectly for a lifetime (or longer) if properly maintained.

As I walk around inner-city neighbourhoods in Calgary, I’m bothered by a pattern that I see being repeated over and over again. Homes that have stood for decades are being levelled and replaced by one of two things: large, contemporary boxes or large, multi-family boxes. And it’s not just homes. Commercial buildings are being torn down and replaced by high-rise residential towers full of small (you guessed it) boxes.

Boxes, boxes and more boxes…

Why is this happening? Well, it is now presented as common knowledge that housing is a critical problem in Calgary. City administration has prepared or commissioned studies to explain the situation and how dire it is. I’ve read their material, and I’m willing to admit that I don’t know. I’m not an urban planner or a sociologist. Maybe it’s a crisis, or maybe it isn’t.

What I do know is that if I exercise my right to ask questions or comment on proposed developments that directly affect me, by writing letters to my councillor and city planners, the usual response consists of boilerplate talking points about housing supply and affordability challenges. I used to write such letters, but I don’t do so anymore. When a response starts with the words “because we are in a housing crisis…“, then it will include justification for all sorts of irrational actions.

As I said, I have many problems with this trend, but let me come back to that word, sustainability. I define sustainability as encompassing the social, environmental and economic aspects of a project. In my view, nothing in the current teardown and build cycle is sustainable. I’ve noticed that the experts who tout densification and the bureaucrats who facilitate it—the same people who are quick to extol its benefits—tend to be silent on this point. This isn’t an oversight; it’s because the facts don’t fit their narrative.

How about an illustration?

Yesterday, I walked by a row of three post-war houses. All were small, neat and well-kept. They have been standing for decades, so we know they have survived many brutal Calgary winters. The owners of these homes have replaced roofs, tended lawns, and done the hundreds of other routine tasks needed to keep them functioning. They have put their personal touches on them. These houses are not flashy, large, or modern, but they definitely are sustainable. On the evidence, these are the type of structures that stand in the way of solutions to our housing problem.

The impediments to solving our housing crisis… really?

Let’s contrast this scene with another, where a transition has already occurred. The houses that used to stand in this location were like the ones pictured above. They have been replaced by multiple, multi-family dwellings; in this case, four fourplexes.

Tell me, what problem is this solving?

To get to this point, three houses were demolished and carted to the landfill. I estimate this would have generated 400 cubic metres (200 tonnes) of waste. That’s without consideration of the concrete foundations, which represent more waste to the landfill, and heavy waste at that.

Pouring new foundations generates significant GHG emissions, because cement manufacturing is one of the most GHG-intensive industries. Of course, there will be a continuous stream of waste while construction is in progress. And our lush urban tree canopy? Gone.

What are the main development scenarios for inner city locations?

If we see a custom contemporary house going up, it’s usually large and built to serve the needs of a couple or a small family. In other words, there will be a lot of space dedicated to a few people. Don’t get me wrong. This is a free country, and people can build to their own taste and budget. But on a full lifecycle basis, it’s hardly sustainable.

If it’s a multi-family dwelling, it’s almost certainly going to be built by a developer who will target the minimum building standards. There will be pressed board exterior walls, thin insulation and interior walls, plastic pipe and cheap finishings. Unlike the post-war houses pictured above, nothing built today will last. We can be sure of two more things: the developer will realize a healthy margin, and the finished units will not be affordable.

What about commercial properties? To round out my review, I checked the progress on the long-planned demolition of the Jimmie Condon Building at the corner of 17th Avenue and 14th Street. Some would say the building is (sorry, was) historic, and others would say its pagoda-style roofline was an eyesore. Either way, if a picture is worth a thousand words, then this one is a mouthful.

Off to the landfill, Jimmie!

We hear a lot these days about the need to build more “climate resilient” infrastructure. In response, I’ll note that I’ve seen plenty of buildings shrouded in tarps a few years after construction, presumably to repair deficiencies in exterior construction or incorrect materials. That is neither resilient nor sustainable.

I’ll leave for another day related questions—like whether multi-family dwellings (or high-rise towers) will solve the apparent housing crisis that led to their construction in the first place. Or who ultimately pays for luxury condo units that sit on the market unsold, or peddled as short-term rentals. Or whether we should be replacing our city’s already small inventory of historic buildings with characterless, cheaply-built boxes.

To conclude, there’s a saying that a good crisis should never be wasted. I think our municipal government and administration are doing just that with their housing crisis. Their logic is simple: the more housing units that are built, the more tax revenue will be generated. So inner city buildings are being demolished at a rapid pace, with no consideration of what makes our neighbourhoods unique or desirable.

This is a trend that’s hard to justify if one is thinking sustainably. We’re targeting one objective—increasing the supply of housing units—at all costs. In this context, “at all costs” means neglecting environmental stewardship and economic sensibility.

Fortunately, the market has a way of correcting irrational behaviour. I hope we will soon see evidence that a much-needed correction is underway.

An Ansel Adams Inspired Photo Run

Knowing that Weaselhead Park would be in its full autumn splendour this week, I decided to do a short photo run starting in North Glenmore Park.

Here’s the Strava record of my out-and-back route through the Weaselhead Flats. It’s a beautiful place to run at any time, but especially at this time of year.

I recently had an idea for a new series, highlighting my favourite photographers. As I trudged up the hill at the far corner of Weaselhead, where the path heads into a pleasant birch forest, I realized I had my first subject: Ansel Adams. Adams is a good choice, given that he was the first photographer who came to my attention after I purchased a film camera as a teenager. I’ve admired his photographs for years. And when I saw the white trunks of the birch trees, two specific images popped into my head.

But first, let me introduce Adams.

Ansel Adams: Photography Legend

Ansel Adams (1902-1984) was an American photographer and environmentalist. As a young man, he showed talent as a pianist. However, he decided to pursue his early interest in photography, even though at the time that was hardly a sure career path.

Adams is best known for dramatic black and white landscape images, many of which were shot on large glass plate negatives. He also developed innovative and disciplined approaches to capturing and printing images. He formalized the use of the Zone System, which allows the photographer to realize what they saw in the scene, based on analysis of the tonal ranges in the image. 

Given the sheer number of Adams’ iconic images, it would be difficult to settle on my personal favourite. I’ve always admired his Clearing Winter Storm (1944) and Monolith, The Face of Half Dome (1927). His photograph of Denali—Mount McKinley and Wonder Lake (1944)—is brilliant. These images matter because they illustrate Adams’ deep commitment to preserving some of the great natural places in the U.S.

Even though they aren’t what he is best remembered for, Adams’ portraits are remarkable, too. His candid shot of Georgia O’Keeffe and Orville Cox (1937)—shot with a 35mm camera—may be my favourite of all his images. So, regardless of which image we look at, it’s easy to see why Adams is regarded as one of the greatest American photographers. 

Georgia O’Keeffe and Orville Cox (1937)

Aspens, Northern New Mexico (1958)

There’s a book by Adams that I’ve turned to dozens of times for inspiration. It’s called Examples: The Making of 40 Photographs. Adams takes the reader on journeys that culminate in the images in his book. He sets the scene, explains the equipment he used, and the process of creating the final print. It’s far more than a how-to manual. What I appreciate most about the book is Adams’ honesty. Many times, he admits to making errors in his camera settings or finds he’s created challenges for himself in achieving the result he wants. These are refreshing admissions by a person we may think of as being infallible. 

Two images in Examples are relevant to this piece. Aspens, Northern New Mexico (1958) is a pair of complementary photographs, one vertical and the other horizontal. Adams shot them with an 8″x10” camera using a yellow filter, which would have lightened its own colour (yellow) and darkened its opposite colour (blue). He typically printed the images in very large format, up to 30″x40″. Adams describes these as “quite satisfying statements”, “cool and aloof and rather stately”. I’ll say! He also writes that they are good expressions of his philosophical approach to photography, in that he was able to express what he saw and felt in the scene. 

And so, today in Weaselhead

At the risk of embarrassing myself—-we can agree that Adams is a tough act to follow—-let me turn to my own attempt to capture what I saw and felt on today’s Weaselhead photo run. It was a similar day to what Adams described for his Aspens: a crisp autumn day. The birch forest was in full fall colours. Even better, the sun was trying to make an appearance after a short rain shower. There was no wind. In other words, the prospects were good. As usual, I had my Ricoh GR III in hand—no 8″x10” cameras here. 

I could see what Adams had to deal with, given all the colours of autumn: reds, yellows, purples, greens. A colour photograph would certainly have impact, but my worry was that it would end up being an incoherent riot of colour. Because digital photography gives us some huge advantages over Ansel and his glass negatives, I’m able to let my readers decide for themselves.

I’ll start with a vertical shot. I did some masking in Lightroom to bring out the trees at the front of the image and give some separation against the busy background. Using Lightroom’s simulated filters, I boosted the yellow channel to brighten the leaves. As is often the case, I prefer the black and white version.

Weaselhead Birch Forest – Vertical (Sept 30, 2025) (Copyright: Steven Kelly)

Moving on, I looked for a scene that might work in horizontal format. My idea was to have some prominent leaves in the picture, as on the left side of Adams’ image. I found a grove with a dense grouping of trees and a splash of green on the left of the frame. I don’t think this was the perfect example, but you know, I was in the middle of my run. I snapped my shot and carried on. Later, I darkened the left edge and the foreground to accentuate the trees that were in sunlight. Again, I prefer the monochrome version, but I’d like to hear from any readers who have an opinion.

Weaselhead Birch Forest – Horizontal (Sept 30, 2025) (Copyright: Steven Kelly)

Wrapping Up

My photo run was short but productive. I headed to this spot because I hadn’t been there for a while, and I wanted to see the fall colours. Once I got to the birch forest on the south side of the reservoir, Ansel Adams’ iconic images popped into my head. It encouraged me to slow my pace and look around. And what I found was well worth the effort. I may even try to get back there with a film camera and tripod—and without my running shoes!

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Off Track: A Eulogy of Sorts for GAP 1.0

So that’s it. The end of an era. The south end of the original Glenmore Athletic Park (GAP) track—I call it GAP 1.0—is gone. Torn up. 

I know the guys in the excavators are just doing their job, but it was hard to watch them pulling up the tattered red surface. The sign posted on the fence helpfully explains that the work is for the installation of a natural gas line to serve the new Glenmore Twin Arena that is being constructed nearby. According to the City website, the south end of the track will become a parking lot. Of course, another parking lot.

I have countless memories of the old circuit. It’s been the site of race finishes (like the Stampede Road Race), club events like handicap races, and innumerable workouts. GAP has hosted hundreds of track meets over the last six decades, including one in May 2011, where my mates and I set a Canadian M35 age group record for the 4x800m relay. (Our record didn’t stand for long, so don’t bother searching for it.)

I wrote about the old GAP track in Stroke of Luck, about how just seeing the red surface puts me in a comfortable place. I also did a blog piece—Homage to GAP 1.0—to mark the seventieth anniversary of Roger Bannister’s historic four-minute mile and the sixtieth (or so) of the GAP track itself. That was more than a year ago.

Sure, with a new, modern facility (some have started calling that one Smurf Turf, but I prefer Big Blue) being built a stone’s throw away, the writing was on the wall. I dared to hope that the City would keep the old place open. And if that wasn’t going to happen, I was sure they would leave it in service until the new track was ready. Well, now we have our answers: no and no.

Here is the main issue I have with the City’s decision: there’s no convenient alternative for running clubs that train in Calgary’s Southwest. As rough as the surface was, the track was in constant use by individual runners and clubs. To demonstrate their commitment, athletes regularly organized themselves into shovelling crews to keep a couple of lanes open through the winter. Speaking of the winter, progress on the new facility seems rather slow, so we’ll have to wait until sometime in the new year. 

I pointed out all of these things when I called 311 today, but it won’t change where we are. 

I don’t need to repeat what I wrote in my previous piece. Instead, with a distinct feeling of nostalgia, the best thing for me to do is add a few more memories, to convey what the old track meant to me. 

Here’s a photo from a one-mile senior’s challenge race, which took place in May 2010. It was all smiles on the start line, except for competitor 15 (me). For the record, I never smiled in the final few minutes before the gun. That’s okay, though, as I doubt anyone was smiling ten minutes later. I have no record of the results, so that might mean I didn’t do very well. Even so, it’s a cool memory.

This is the current state of the spotting booth on the back straight. Although the plywood mural that covers the scoreboard is deteriorating and falling off in chunks, I can report that the pigeons that have taken up residence in the booth are doing well. I like the juxtaposition of these two half-images.

And here’s a photo I took during a recent workout. My friend Doreen and I ran intervals on a beautiful, warm August morning. Little did we know it would be our last spin around the track. This photo of Doreen, smiling as she heads into the back straight, seems to be a fitting one to close with. 

I don’t know if there is such a thing as a memorial service for a facility, but I feel like the Calgary running community could do with one in this situation. For now, I tore off a chunk of the synthetic rubber surface as a keepsake. Deb was grossed out, but I don’t care—I’ll keep it in the garage. 

Maybe I should deal with this the way I usually do—go for a jog and come to terms with this disappointing news. 

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Hello Vancouver!

CALL Health and Wellness Speaker Series

I’m thrilled to announce an upcoming event with the Calgary Association of Lifelong Learners. I’ll be doing a presentation of my memoir on September 22, 2025, at the Varsity Acres Presbyterian Church. See the details below.

The Calgary Association of Lifelong Learners (CALL) is a member-led, non-profit organization. Their mandate is to facilitate lifelong learning for residents of Calgary and area. Programs and activities are wide-ranging, focusing on arts and culture, society and politics, and health and science.

My presentation will be part of CALL’s Health and Wellness Speaker Series. I look forward to telling the story of my lifelong connection to the great sport of athletics and my recovery from a series of strokes in 2017. As my regular readers will know, I wrote about running, health, and recovery in Stroke of Luck: My Life in Amateur Athletics. The opportunity to meet with groups and clubs is by far the best part of this project. I’m gratified to be able to share my main messages:

  • The importance of an active lifestyle
  • Awareness of the full range of stroke symptoms
  • Raising funds to support the lifesaving work at the Foothills Stroke Unit

If you are interested in joining us on the 22nd, or if you’d like to find out more about CALL, please reach out to them here. I hope to see you then!

A Quick Visit to Vancouver

Our vacation planning this year has been somewhat ad hoc. That’s resulted in a series of short trips to some unexpected locations: Moose Jaw, San Diego, and Edmonton. But rather than being a problem, it’s been an opportunity. So much so that we are looking forward to doing more of the same in the months to come.

Last week, we decided to make an impromptu, short trip to Vancouver. There’s never a bad time to visit Vancouver, but our timing was especially good. We were in the city for two perfect days. While most of our trips to the city in the last few years have had us staying in Kitsilano or Yaletown—both fine locations—we opted for downtown this time. 

Deb suggested that we stay at the new Azur Hotel on W Pender Street. The Azur is one of the Leading Hotels of the World, and she was curious about it. We’ve enjoyed stays at several LHW hotels—the Azur is one of only a few in North America. It was a great decision. Everything about our stay was excellent. The hotel feels quaint, and it exudes style. The staff were amazing. They treated us like royalty. The amenities were excellent, and the included breakfast was delicious. 

We enjoyed walking through Gastown and along the waterfront at Canada Place. Of course, watching the Harbour Air seaplanes taking off and landing is always fun. We took the SeaBus across Burrard Inlet to North Vancouver and checked out the latest exhibits at the Polygon Gallery. We both thought the large-scale astronomical photographs by Thomas Ruff, a German photographer, part of the current Star Witnesses exhibit, were a highlight.

Food and drink? Well, you can’t go wrong with a coffee and doughnut from the 49th Parallel cafe on Thurlow, so we did that. And for dinner, we enjoyed a meal at the bar in the Blue Water Cafe in Yaletown. I had the Yellowfin Tuna, and Deb chose the Arctic Char. Both were delicious.

Some Vancouver Street Photography

Now, it wouldn’t be an outing worth talking about if there weren’t a few photos to share. With my trusty Ricoh GR III in hand, I caught the occasional street scene. Here are some examples:

When we’re in Vancouver, we always think about Fred Herzog. For those who aren’t familiar with him, Herzog was a Vancouver-based photographer, active in the 1950s and 1960s. He’s one of our favourite photographers, and a source of inspiration when I’m walking the streets of Vancouver. Herzog mainly shot with a Leica rangefinder using Kodachrome colour film, and his photographs reveal much about the character of the city during that era.

Although it isn’t fair to say Herzog was unknown during his lifetime, his work is really only getting the credit it deserves now. That’s due in large part to the efforts of the Equinox Gallery in Vancouver and the Trepanier Baer Gallery in Calgary. Here’s the cover of Fred Herzog: Modern Color. It’s a superb collection of Herzog’s photographs, published in 2017 by the Equinox Gallery. The image on the cover happens to be my favourite Herzog photograph.

This gives me an idea for a new blog series: My Favourite Photographers. I think Fred Herzog will have to be my first subject. Look for that soon! 

While writing about the GR III, I’ll mention that Ricoh has just announced the GR IV (and discontinued the GR III). I’m definitely interested, although it might be said that on first glance, the specs are only marginally better than my current one. That said, my camera is now four years old, and I’ve noticed that it seems to have accumulated a lot of dust on the sensor. This problem is a known issue for the GR III. I thought I had avoided the problem until I looked closer at my shots from Vancouver. I probably shouldn’t be surprised, given how I handle (mishandle?) this camera on my photo runs. C’est la vie!

On that note, I’ll sign off. Thanks for reading. Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

It’s Relay Season!

June 20 Update

I wrote this piece to celebrate the relay races we enjoy here in the mountain parks. We’ve had a reminder in the last few days of the awesome power of Mother Nature. Heavy precipitation and strong winds are expected over southern Alberta this weekend, and that has led to the cancellation of the 2025 Kananaskis 100 Mile Relay. A tough call, but the right one by Cheryl and her team at Be There Races. It’s a shame that we’ll be deprived of this classic race this year… see you in 2026!

Time is short to get your copy of Stroke of Luck for a discounted price. Order on Amazon and save! Sale ends on June 30.

Help me raise funds for the essential work of the doctors and staff at Foothills Stroke Unit!

While we tend to think of running as a solitary activity, some of my fondest memories are from races where I competed as part of a relay team. I’m not referring to just any relays though. We are fortunate to have some world-class multi-stage relay races in Canada. And some of the best races take place in the Rocky Mountains—perhaps not surprising given the majestic scenery available here. 

With our variable weather, June is the unofficial start of road relay season. Here’s a short personal history of my connection to the best mountain relays. I’ve also mentioned a couple of other major road relays in Canada and the US.

History of Multi-stage Relay Races

The Japanese have a long tradition of races based on the ekiden, which is an age-old method of staged courier transmission across long distances. “Eki” translates to “station” and “den” means “to communicate, to convey”. For more than 100 years, ekiden has been a popular sport in Japan, and this may have been the origin of similar races in Canada. The popularity of multistage road races has grown, and there are now events around the world. Of course, relays can be on roads or trails, although my focus is on road races.   

Jasper Banff (later Banff Jasper) Relay

I’m not a historian, just an amateur athlete with a long resume and a keen interest in the sport. I think of the Jasper Banff Relay (JBR) as the grand-daddy of Canadian distance relays. Much of the race course follows the Icefields Parkway (Highway 93), so it certainly offers the most magnificent scenery.

The original race (contested from 1980 to 2000) started at noon in Jasper on the first Saturday in June. It ran continuously towards Banff, over 258 km and 17 stages of varying length and difficulty. Needless to say, there were some tough stages, like the climbs up to the Columbia Icefields and the high point at Bow Summit (2,088 m).

My research suggests that this is the oldest multistage race in Canada. I might be wrong—I don’t know of any others with such longevity. The race had a hiatus from 2000 to 2005 before it was relaunched in a new format. 

My first experience of multistage relay races goes back nearly 40 years, to the 1988 JBR. I wrote about this specific race in Stroke of Luck, because that weekend in the national parks made an indelible impression on me. The JBR was a huge event in its heyday—just the sight of 120 teams of 17 runners converging on the small mountain town of Jasper was awesome.

I ran stage 13 in 1988. Bad luck? Well, yes. I coped with a bear warning and a drenching nighttime thunderstorm while running 20 km in pitch darkness. It was daunting, but also one of the most memorable running experiences of my life. Our team of 12 men and 5 women battled hard for 19 hours and 10 minutes to a 2nd-place finish in the mixed category and 15th overall.

I went on to run the JBR twice more, in 1990 and 1991. Then, in 2008, I was asked to run in Stage N14 of the revamped Banff Jasper Relay. (The race now consists of simultaneous South (S1-S6) and North (N7-N15) races to avoid overnight running.) We placed well that year, but I was NOT in race fitness. While these were all thrilling and exhausting races, none could match the 1988 race for sheer excitement.

Kananaskis 100 Mile Relay

The success of the JBR spawned competitors, and the most prominent of these is the Kananaskis 100 Mile Relay (known to all as the “K-100”). The K-100 has run annually since 1987. It starts in the foothills, in the small town of Longview, Alberta early on a Saturday in late June, and follows Highway 40 to the Nakiska ski lodge. The race covers (surprise!) 100 miles in 10 stages, including one trail stage. There was an individual 50-mile ultra on the same route for a few years.  

My records are a little sketchy when it comes to the K-100. I think I’ve participated eight times. I’ve run on club teams and corporate teams, going back to the late 1980s: first the Fort Saskatchewan Kilomilers, then a couple of Shell Canada teams, and more recently for Adrenaline Rush Athletics. I last raced in 2017, a couple of weeks before my hospitalization for strokes (and that is definitely a story for another time!) 

At its peak in the early 2000s, the race was limited to 180 teams. Now, the race is capped at 80 teams. There were 40 finishers in 2024. I remember the corporate and open divisions being intensely competitive. I will venture a guess that the decline in race numbers is due to the fortunes of the Calgary business community, and limitations imposed by Alberta Parks.  

Over the years, I’ve run stages 2, 4, 8 and 9 of the K-100. I like stage 8 best. It’s kind of a Goldilocks stage—not too long or too short, not too flat or hilly. I’ve had many good memories and a good track record at the K-100, coming home with a podium placing several times. I like the race a lot, not least because it wraps up in one long day. There’s lots of variety and challenge over the 100 miles, including a summit of the Highwood Pass. Here are a few pictures:

Other Road Relays

There are other multi-stage road relays. Some have come and gone, and new ones are popping up. The following races have endured:

Concluding Thoughts

I’ve had many great adventures and some success as part of road relay teams. If you haven’t tried one, I would highly recommend that you do. There is something special about sharing a race experience with a group of friends, adding a team dynamic and plenty of unknowns to your ordinary running. Long, unbelievably beautiful and sometimes lonely stages (think time trials), and daunting course profiles intensify the experience. You can feel the anticipation (and exhaustion) build as the race carries on. It can be especially exciting if you are locked in a tight competitive battle. In short, it’s a lot of fun!

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!