Time is Nothing More than Sand

“Can we fathom the mysteries of the strange lands where life once wandered?” (2:37).

On July 6th, 2023, my boyfriend (now husband) and I packed our Vandura camper van full of our necessities and headed south, towards the Alberta Badlands. On the surface, this trip was to explore parts of our province that we usually neglect, but for me, it went beyond that. From the mess of the pandemic to the emphasis on oil and beef, I was feeling ashamed and frustrated to be an Albertan. As a vegan of several years and someone who takes care to respect the environment, I sometimes suspect that the difference in values is too large to ignore. Still, I was determined to reconnect with the province I call home in any way I could.

Six months after our excursion, on February 6th, 2024, acclaimed mountain biker Brandon Semenuk released his short film “Afterlife”. Set in the badlands, he paired graceful bike maneuvers with a story line about rising from the ashes and embracing the time we’re given. From the first guitar notes to the haunting voice of Fletcher C Johnson, I was hooked. Watching Semenuk soar through the landscape of my home province activated a part of my brain I so desperately sought, pride. This athlete had filmed in numerous countries and landscapes. He could have gone anywhere, but he chose Alberta, and he made it look good. Between the summer road trip and the mountain bike film, my perception of Alberta and what it meant to call that province home went through a dramatic metamorphosis

Semenuk’s “Afterlife” contrasts the beautiful badlands scenery and the gripping, yet graceful sport of mountain biking. It crafts an experience that is more art than sports film. Every time I watch it, I am inspired to be a better artist, a better athlete and to live a more mindful life. In all aspects of my life, my emotions are on full display whether I want to share them or not. I try my best to allow myself to embrace them to their fullest extent instead of hiding them as so many around me do. “Afterlife” brought me to tears, of course, there was beauty in it, but there was also a sense of tranquility. Semenuk’s innate sense of calm while performing complex tricks is infectious, and even through the screen, I finish the video feeling as though I have just meditated.

It was my husband who introduced me to mountain biking and the brilliance of Brandon Semenuk. He was also the one who carefully researched the route for the road trip and decided that we would visit Red Rock Coulee, located a few hours south of Drumheller. Although listed as a sightseeing location, it was empty—no parking lot, outhouses, or crowds of people. The lack of people around solidified our decision to spend the night. We parked the van facing the wind turbines that stood eerily on the horizon. Then, we went exploring.

As soon as we stepped to the edge of the dusty hill, my eyes widened. The shallow valley was filled with spherical red rocks. Some fully intact, others split down the middle. We descended down towards the rocks, and a wave of comfort washed over me. I’m never too certain in what I believe spiritually, but those rocks undeniably held a powerful grounding energy. I looked at my husband, and I knew he felt it too. With each rock that I observed or placed my palm against, the more my brain quieted and by the time we returned to the van, I was totally at peace.

From the van, we retrieved our instruments: a guitar and a cajon, then we headed back down to find a spot to record a video. I settled on chunk of red rock and my husband sat a few feet behind me, hoping to balance out the sound and our height differences. He took my phone and propped it up on a rock and hit record. We played our original song, “Ghost”. The recording started out nervous and shy but soon evolved into something that was authentically us. There is something about the arid, rocky landscape that evokes innovation. The influx of inspiration began my shift in perspective. Alberta’s landscapes are a place to create.

Before releasing “Afterlife’, Semenuk had teased audiences with images of him building jumps in the distinct landscape. When I saw them for the first time, excitement sparked in my belly and my husband, and I spent many hours trying to investigate where exactly the filming had taken place. Although we never did figure it out exactly, we could tell from the view of the shallow river and the colour of the sand and dirt that we had tread along land very close to where it took place. There was a sense of connection that our journey had followed a similar path to Semenuk; we had no idea how far it would take us.

“The footsteps of those who roamed the Earth before us echo through the corridors of the afterlife. Now, let us move forward in time to picture two” (5:33).

Part two of “Afterlife” features Semenuk rising from the craters in the dirt alongside a crescendo of music. The message is clear: come back stronger, livelier, and give it your all. The swirl of dirt that follows him as he barrels down the rock face emphasizes his speed and effort and makes for epic imagery. His film inspired us, and armed with our newfound love of southern Alberta, we set forth to create our own ode to the land.

In the summer of 2024, my husband and I gathered the courage to record an EP. After spending a lot of time busking on the streets and developing our sound, this seemed to be the natural next step. As “Afterlife” expressed, this would be an unrestricted creative pursuit, set in motion by travel and love for the land. We had three songs that we wanted to put on the EP, and, just like Afterlife, we wanted the sound to reflect the richness of Alberta’s natural landscape.

Three songs in three months didn’t sound that tough, but it soon became clear this would be much more difficult than we had thought. Our goal was to record drums and guitar together, just as we would play them live. The downside being that we would both have to nail our parts on the same take, and that just wasn’t happening. Tempers rose and fell with the sweltering temperatures. Some days, the recording room was 37 degrees Celsius! But still, religiously, we spent our evenings sweating it out and creating music. Although it may sound cheesy, we did grow closer in the process. Crafting music together is an intimate experience, and as we started to make progress, we became excited to share it with the world.

With each track reflecting a different landscape, we created a three-part story. The first track, “Ghost”, was representative of the dry, badlands of Alberta. We tried to capture a desert/western vibe with haunting melodies. The second track “Bones” was for the Boreal Forest, lush and whimsical. “Haze”, the final track was for the mountains and documented the fires that ravage the land every year, as well as the damage caused by the pursuit of oil and digging up the land.

Semenuk’s “Afterlife” is art, just as a dancer gliding across the stage, a stunning photo in a gallery, or a mural on the side of a downtown building. Watching art inspires you to create art. As our three songs started to shape up, we gathered photos, including one from Red Rock Coulee, and made our album cover. Our initial journey had helped me fall in love with the Alberta land, “Afterlife” only furthered it, and now my take on the land was ready.

“Afterlife” went on to win awards for best bike film of the year and fan favourite, but these wins were not without controversy. Mountain bike enthusiasts argued in the comments that “Afterlife” didn’t display the adrenaline and daring that those other films in the running did. With those reasons, the fans were right. “Afterlife” didn’t feature bikers racing down mountains to the soundtrack of pounding metal music. It didn’t feature the highest jumps or the most rotations, but it did showcase a vision that stood out and was unique against its competition.

Nearly two years after our initial road trip. My perspective has changed. I love the land where I live and spend as much time as I can outside. Our EP didn’t perform well, but the handful of people who gave it a listen gave us warm feedback. Although it never was about doing well or making lots of money. What was most interesting to me, however, was how they were able to ‘hear’ the different landscapes in the music. It was a big win for us to have the listeners feel the land as we did. The project was rooted in expressing the songs that we had in our heads and showcasing what Alberta is to us – a place of beauty and ever-changing landscape.

Many components of where I live still cause me stress, but the lingering shame has faded away. I have grown to accept that I will probably always think differently from many of the people who live in Alberta and value things that they do not. I reside above those thoughts and instead pursue what affirms my vision of Alberta. I seek art and nature, beauty and peace. Never do I feel better than when I am seated in the passenger seat of the Vandura, racing down the highways to explore another landscape in our diverse province. But in the cold months of winter, when travel is less accessible and the land is masked by snow, “Afterlife” can remind me of the realm of beauty that I am lucky to call my home.

Semenuk, Brandon. “Afterlife – Brandon Semenuk.” YouTube, uploaded by Red Bull Bike, 6 February 2024, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ssC4sBSnfw .