If we went south, we’d be on the windy plains and rolling hills between Fort Macleod and Pincher Creek, the long ridge of the Porcupine Hills rolling north from Head-Smashed-In back toward Nanton. We’d see mule deer and spreads off balsamroot blossoms. The mountains of Montana would be rising off to the south.
Heading west, we’d be deep in the mountains, up around Lake Louise, maybe, or rolling toward the headwaters of the Bow River, Snow-covered peaks would be rising above us, forests would fill the valleys. Tourists would be nearly as thick as the trees.
Northward, parkland country. Two hours would put us in the vicinity of Red Deer or Sylvan Lake in the land of aspen groves and undulating hills. On warm days we could sit and watch thunderstorms churn up and roll eastward from the mountains or hunt for wildflowers among the numerous copses of trees. Might see a moose.
East, we’d see nearly everything. Past Dinosaur Park and the badlands of the Red Deer River, we’d be somewhere around Jenner. We’d see antelope wandering among sagebrush in the shimmering heat, elk on the grasslands, cottonwoods in the river valleys. The sky would stretch 180 degrees overhead. The hot wind would carry the lovely scent of wolf willow and the last of the chokecherry blossoms. There’s a very good chance we wouldn’t see another single human being.