Heritage Park

The Missus turned twenty-nine (again) on May 25th and thought it might be fun to visit Heritage Park in Calgary for the day, so off we went. “We” being my wife, my daughter, and me. I didn’t mind going as it is one of those places I always mean to get to, but never do.

I have only been to Heritage Park twice despite having lived in Calgary from the ages of nine to twenty-three. I managed to make it there once with my mother while I lived in Calgary. My second trip was as the bus driver for an elementary school field trip. It was on a weekday when the park was relatively empty and it was a very pleasant visit.

My first trip to Heritage Park was when I was eleven years old. My mother had gone completely blind from diabetic retinopathy by that point and had gotten a Seeing Eye Dog to help her get about. What I mainly remember about that visit is that it was stressful and a lot of work for me.

Those who haven’t been raised by a single, handicapped parent likely have no idea how much work it is for the kid(s). We put in as much or more work helping our disabled parent as the parent does raising us. It complicates roles because one moment you are responsible for your parent’s safety and the next you’re back to being a kid and catching heck for, well, being a kid (I learned not to do dumb things by doing lots of dumb things).

I did get to ride the train on my first trip to the park, but it wasn’t what you would call enjoyable. My mom wanted to go on the train and getting her and then her blessed guide dog up the steep train car stairs was a nightmare. The dog panicked being lifted up the steps and cut the heck out of my arms with her back nails. I spent the rest of the day with people staring at the bloodied sleeves of my jacket the dog’s nails had sliced through. So that was fun.

We didn’t get to buy lunch at the park when I was a kid, either, because my mom was on assistance. The gate fee wiped out our entertainment budget for the month so baloney sandwiches it was and beverages from the water fountains. We ate a lot of baloney. I cannot stomach the stuff now.

For our family trip we stopped at the Club Cafe and had lunch there because I have fond memories of the Club Cafe restaurants that used to dot rural Alberta when I was a kid. This iteration of the Club Cafe did not live up to those memories. Getting a seat was a nightmare. The service was glacially slow. The food was mediocre to the point where I was wishing I had brought a baloney sandwich, and I hate the wretched things.

The S.S. Moyie is a half-size replica of the original paddle wheeler that Heritage Park commissioned decades back. I don’t know how old it is, but my first ride on it was as a kid forty-four years ago and I remember it looking weathered then. I enjoyed it then and I enjoyed riding on it this past weekend as well. We did watch a nasty storm that was circling the park, but managed to miss us. It was at its most threatening while we were on the water.

The trip takes you on a short, twenty-minute circuit around Calgary’s Glenmore Reservoir. It was really noticeable how far down the water level has dropped. I have never seen it that low in my life. Worrisome.

My camera of choice for the trip was Ray’s Canon EOS 7D he bequeathed to me after he passed. It performed yeoman service, as usual. The only shots I really had trouble with were the high-contrast ones involving the storm. That is the one time that I noticed the 7D has much more limited dynamic range than my circa 2020 Canon EOS R5.

Also in my bag was my Bonzart Ziegel, the bizarre little toy digital camera that I picked up used. I had it set to standard colour mode for the day and I was using faux film frames as usual – they were my reason for buying it.

So, yeah, the Ziegel is a lot of fun. The one thing I hate about it is how quickly it goes through batteries. I took maybe ten shots and it went from fully-charged to flashing a red warning. I had another set in my bag, but changing the batteries in that thing is a nightmare. It is designed to take chunks of skin off your fingers if you change the batteries with bare hands. It was definitely designed with appearance rather than usability in mind.

The Conklin Lakeview Amusements area was another bust for me as a kid. Here’s the kicker: All the rides in the park are covered by the gate admission so I could have gone on the Ferris Wheel 10x if I had wanted. Well, I wanted to, but my mother was paranoid about being left alone in strange places after going blind, which I guess is understandable. It kind of sucked as a kid to look at the free rides and be told I couldn’t go on them.

No corndogs or hotdogs or popcorn, or even a pop, either for me as a kid. Life on welfare! I was hoping my daughter could go on the Ferris Wheel on Saturday and that maybe I could join her, but it was shut down because of the thunder and lighting from the storm that had just passed nearby. Always a next time, right?

One funny moment on Saturday was my wife and daughter going into the old synagogue from Hanna while I hung around outside as I was done with dark and musty buildings by that point. It was funny because my mother converted to Judaism late in her life before she passed at age forty-three. Jewish heritage passes matrilineally, making me the Jewish one of the three of us. I probably should have been the one to go inside, but I am Jewish in label only. Besides, I like sour cream on my meatballs.

A few sour memories aside, it was a really fun day with my family and also with some cameras if I am being honest. We enjoyed ourselves enough that we’re considering purchasing the family pass and making a few more tours of the place this summer. I would like to make it on a weekday next time, however.

There was some sort of vintage quilt display and every damn surface in the park was festooned with them. I do appreciate a nice quilt, but in moderation. The entire park was carpeted with them, which is why you’ll notice they creep into a lot of shots. Of course where there are quilts there are usually also seniors, and they kept photo bombing me as well. (If you noticed that the quilts disappeared from one shot of the Wainwright Hotel, that was because it looked like they were about to get rained on.)

Fingers crossed that our next visit is on a much quieter weekday with no oddball displays. I don’t mind if we get more dramatic skies, though. I always appreciate those.

Cameras used were my funktastic Bonzart Ziegel and my friend Ray’s Canon EOS 7D with the Canon 17-40mm EF L USM f4-5.6 lens he left me as well.