Reliving Lost Memories with Ai (2023)
The Abbot Pass Alpine Hut, once Canada’s second-highest shelter, is no more—another casualty of global warming. Back in my Venture Communications days, I teamed up with Joe Media to capture Alberta’s wild, untamed prairies. The beauty was real, but my iPhone bit the dust at Abbot Pass. Only memories and the final film remained. Now, with AI, I’ve reconstructed those lost moments, sharing stories that were almost forgotten. But let's be clear: AI is still young, and it can't truly replicate the full weight of those Abbot Pass memories.
1. Ascent
We set out to capture Alberta’s true stories, hitting those breathtaking, unfiltered spots. No scripts, no touch-ups—just raw reality. But the climb to Abbot Pass tested us. The weather turned, the sun beat down, and we ran low on water. Our director of photography started showing signs of sunstroke, but we pushed on, driven to reveal Alberta’s real stories. Still, AI couldn’t fully capture the grit and essence of that moment.
2. Spotting the hut
Hours felt like a lifetime as we climbed through the rough scree. My legs screamed with each step, but I kept my eyes locked on the distant Alpine Hut—a beacon of hope in the wild. The journey wasn’t easy; our sound tech and Director of Photography struggled with their gear, but I, driven by sheer grit, stepped in to help. Finally, we made it to the summit, and the reward was worth it. The AI image I saw later? Almost impressive, but it still couldn’t truly capture the raw intensity of that climb.
3. Chaotic time capsule
As I neared the hut's entrance, unease washed over me. The thick, heavy wooden door felt like it mocked my presence. My hand shook as I grasped the iron handle and opened it. Inside was a chaotic scene of Canadian memorabilia—vintage travel photos, taxidermy heads, cluttered piles of antique skis, snowshoes, and flickering oil lanterns casting eerie shadows. The walls were crammed with Banff souvenirs, yellowed magazines, and cobwebs. An enormous stone fireplace and dirty windows overlooking jagged, snow-capped peaks completed the eerie atmosphere. The Abbot Pass Hut was a chaotic time capsule, a place where beauty and madness intertwined, whispering secrets of the past.
4. Remembering
The summit was finally ours—a peak of achievement. The climb, testing our physical and mental limits, had forged a bond among us, a group of unlikely office workers who had defied the odds together. As I looked back at the jagged scree slopes we’d conquered, I marveled at what we’d done. How had this ragtag film crew scaled such a treacherous path? What seemed impossible was, in reality, just a half-day’s trek. That night, as we shared stories and sipped our hard-earned drinks, I felt a deep sense of accomplishment and unity. A moment to savor and remember forever.
5. Frozen reality
Night fell as my weary teammates, tipsy and exhausted, made their way to the cramped attic quarters. Laughter echoed through the rickety rafters, but sleep eluded me. Just as I began to drift off, a companion’s snores, like a malfunctioning chainsaw, jolted me awake. Nature called, and I had no choice but to answer. I navigated the sardine-packed space and stepped outside, greeted by a breathtaking night sky, ablaze with stars. The crisp alpine air renewed me as I headed for the outhouse—only to find the door frozen shut by the mountain’s unforgiving winds. Even AI couldn’t capture the irony of that moment.
6. Immobility and grime
The morning after our summit is etched in my memory. The cramped quarters, cluttered with gear, offered no escape from the grime of the climb. All I wanted was a shower to wash away the filth, but the stench of unwashed bodies and the gear-filled space made it unbearable. The thought of navigating to the outhouse was daunting, but it wasn’t until I tried to move that I realized my legs were paralyzed by cramps, leaving me immobile.
7. The edit suite
And just like that, we're back in the dimly lit edit suite, surrounded by creative stakeholders. A mix of voices, each with their own take, try to weave a story together, guided only by instinct. The editor, patience wearing thin, watches as we hash out ideas on the glowing screens, unsure if we’re headed for brilliance or disaster. The director, sound composer, producer, and creative director—each with their own egos—grapple to shape the story arc. Why is the creative process so difficult, yet so essential to our very being?
(remember to ai)
I cherished the opportunity to relive a special memory through my AI experiment, even though the Alpine Hut is now gone due to climate change. Thanks to the incredible team at Joe Media, we created a collaborative video that captures that moment. A huge shoutout to Matt Gillespie for making it happen and to everyone who contributed: Eppo Eerkes (director), Howard Wirth (editor), Mike Shields and Russel Broom (sound design), Claudia Neff (casting), Justan Ross (sound recording), Shaun Henning and Brendan Rathbone (camera work), and the support of Travel Alberta's Lori Burgher and Elizabeth Roden. So many talented hands brought this story to life.
Memoirs
The Abbot Pass Alpine Hut, a place of beauty and terror, is forever etched in my mind. Known for having Canada’s highest outhouse, it offered a view of the Death Trap that could stir even the most constipated. Built by Swiss explorers a century ago during Banff's tourism boom, this stone cabin sheltered mountaineers from 1922 until 2022, when it was retired. Global warming eroded the permafrost that once supported it. Next time you're stuck in traffic, remember the Alpine Hut—a reminder of our fragile existence and the need to protect the natural world.
The crisp autumn air was invigorating as we filmed on a frozen lake up north in Alberta. One of our cast members had brought along his hand-crafted cedar canoe, but unfortunately, it was not meant to be. During a particularly rough scene, the canoe capsized, and all of the cast member's belongings went tumbling into the icy water. It was a chaotic and wet moment, but somehow, we managed to finish the shoot despite the mishap.
It was a cold, biting day atop Abbot Pass, and I found myself regretting my choice of a flimsy windbreaker over a proper winter coat. The temperature was well below freezing, and I shivered uncontrollably at our elevation of 10,000 feet. It was a harsh reminder of the unforgiving nature of Alberta winters, a reminder that one must always be prepared for the worst.
I remember how the hunger gnawed at me and the taste of dried fruit and nuts had become unbearable. My mind yearned for the succulence of a cheeseburger, but the harsh reality of our high altitude location in Banff made such indulgences impossible.
