by Betsa Marsh

Some swimming pools just seem to dictate their favorite stroke. With the gray stone of a Canadian castle over my left shoulder, snow-tipped Rockies at my feet, the tumbling Bow River on my right, and a pair of munching mule deer over my head, it seems that only a back stroke will do.

The outdoor pool, steaming where the hot water meets the cold mountain air, is one of 11 at the revitalized Solace spa of the Banff Springs Hotel. For centuries, First Nations people came to the sulfur springs in Banff, Alberta, for restorative soaks. Pioneers followed and with the completion of the Canadian Pacific Railroad and its chain of grandiose hotels in the late 1800s, travelers from all over the world alighted at the station and headed for the waters.

The Banff Springs Hotel soon was crowned the "finest bathing establishment on the continent." The hotel pumped the warm, odorous water from the springs on Sulphur Mountain through wooden pipes to its outdoor pool, part of a lavish Scottish baronial estate magically transported to the Canadian wilderness.

"Guests would come here to conquer the mountains, then go into the outdoor pool, and then have a fine dining experience," said Angela Jacobson, spa sales manager.

More than a century later, that combination of strenuous activity and sensuous relaxation is still one of the best ways to experience Banff, itself an odd juxtaposition of creature comforts and the utter wildness of rivers, mountains, and big game. At 112 years, the Banff Springs Hotel National Historic Site is the oldest of Canada's heritage railway hotels; at 115 years, Banff is the country's oldest national park, now part of UNESCO's Canadian Rocky Mountain Parks World Heritage Site. Although the park is wrapped around the hamlets of Banff and Lake Louise in ways that would be unacceptable to modern environmentalists, most of the time the relationship works, and travelers are soon spoiled by so much beauty so close to so much luxury.

Days in Banff have a way of falling into an easy pattern of exertion and excursions in the morning, followed by lazy afternoons in the spa, by the fire, or at the tea table. Travelers can sample a wide spectrum of activities during their time at Banff and Lake Louise.

Day-spa guests at Solace, for instance, can combine a heart-pumping workout in the early hours with beauty and massage treatments. Debbie Lalande runs a mean circuit weight training class, working on forgotten muscle groups in short, focused spurts. When she tells you to pour it on—"A bear's chasing you! Run for your life!"—it's not much of an exaggeration. Ski resorts here post warnings about bears, and the mule deer and elk that roam the streets of Banff certainly know they're protected species within its boundaries.

The hotel channel runs a continuous video about avoiding elk confrontations, especially during mating season. On a stroll into town, a large male elk rests beside a Land Rover in a suburban driveway, and his pals cross the main street at their leisure. The mule deer have full reign, as well. "The outdoor pool is 104 degrees, so the grass stays green all year and the mule deer come up and graze," Jacobson said of my audience.

I finish my laps and the two mule deer are still munching their poolside snack. When I step out of the water, I can't resist talking to the larger deer, walking into his space. Totally habituated to humans, he watches me approach within a few feet, never shifting, rising, or blinking a large, mocha eye. His only fear, it seems, is that I may drip on his coat.

Inside, I switch to the warm Hungarian Kur mineral bath, a soothing mix of sodium, potassium, calcium, bromide, and lithium in a pool of mosaics underfoot and skylights overhead. It's the perfect last soak before my massage.

"The hotel was all about water, and we wanted to remain true to that, with the traditional taking of the waters, the muds, and the algae," Jacobson said of the $12 million spa renovation in the mid-90s. "The ancient Romans took the waters for socializing and relaxing, and that has proven to be beneficial for centuries." Solace takes its name from the Latin phrase, solus par aqua, which means "health by water."

Travelers can also soak up the curative benefits at the original Banff Upper Hot Springs; the discovery of the steaming natural pool in 1894 led to the development of the town site and national park. Bathers can soak in the park’s renovated 1930s bathhouse, then relax with treatments at its day spa.

"We're trying to get back to our roots, wanting everyone to have a heritage experience here," said Ted Kissane, Banff Springs vice president and general manager. "We want them to know they're coming to a great national park, not just another mountain resort."

The hotel has re-instituted its famous Swiss guides mountaineering program to lead hikers onto surrounding peaks. Other travelers explore the park high on horseback or at water level from a canoe.

Two of the best local excursions are crunching across the Athabasca Glacier in a "Snocoach" and hiking into Johnston Canyon, a brisk creek-side walk deep into crevasses jammed with tumbled rock and waterfalls. Hikers come here for the spring wildflowers, the chill of waterfalls in summer, and the invigorating air of fall. But Johnston Canyon never closes, and adventure companies lead winter hikes along the trail, walking past pillars of blue ice and suspended waterfalls. Ice cleats are essential for traipsing over frozen catwalks, fringed with two-foot icicles, but just the same, it helps to be as sure-footed as the local bighorn sheep.

On a late-fall day, just before the snow flies, we hike to the canyon's Upper Falls amphitheater and back, guided by rare black swifts overhead. It takes a few hours, and we call it that day's exertion before heading to the comfort of afternoon tea at the legendary Chateau Lake Louise.

At the Chateau's Lakeview Lounge, the blueberry scones are indeed standing at attention, the Devonshire cream is properly clotted, and the berries are plump and tart. But no matter how lovely the tea setting and the harp music, they will always take second place to the view just outside the window. For at Chateau Lake Louise, every steaming pot of Darjeeling comes with a glacier chaser.

The chateau is proud of its elaborate tea, a four-course affair starting with fruit cocktail marinated in passion fruit and Grand Marnier, tea sandwiches and crudités, and blueberry scones and honey-buttered crumpets with Devonshire cream and red berry compote. Many guests round out the savory portion of tea with a glass from the wine list: Henry of Pelham, Pillitteri Estate, Chateau des Charmes, or Henkell Trocken. The dessert course is a selection of tea breads, shortbreads, and pastries.

Throughout, there is always the view to Lake Louise and the Victoria Glacier, one of the most famous geographic icons in North America. It seems that nearly everyone recognizes that chalky blue glacial water, that ice field and the peaks of the Continental Divide beyond.

The Stoney Indians called it the "Lake of the Little Fishes," and the first European visitor, in 1882, named it "Emerald Lake." But in 1884, the lake and its hamlet were renamed Lake Louise for Queen Victoria's daughter, Princess Louise Caroline Alberta, wife of the Governor General of Canada. By 1890, Chateau Lake Louise arose on its banks.

There were no dainty pots of Earl Grey tea, feathery scones, or kiwi custard tartlets for those hardy early surveyors and builders—just a simple saddlebag picnic along the trail. And although it remains true that you can't eat the scenery, this would be one of the best places on earth to try.

Still somehow managing to ring true today is the prose of an 1899 promotional pamphlet, in flowery, full-blown Victoriana. "The very acme of sublimity and grandeur is reached, and in its natural beauty, Banff finds no fitting rival in other lands."

Betsa Marsh, author of The Eccentric Traveler, is slowly realizing her goal of taking tea in every one of the grand Canadian Pacific hotels.