Powderface Pass

Tues. 28 December: Powderface Pass

Powderface Pass - my final adventure of a record year. It was fitting that I made use of my MICROspikes and my snow shoes on this trip. Both were added to my outdoor arsenal only this year.

Despite the plentiful snow all along this trail, this popular route, leading to the Pass over the Powderface Ridge, was actually named after a Stoney Indian, Tom Powderface, whose family lived down in the Elbow Valley back in the early 1900’s.

Just as an aside, I searched the internet for references to Tom Powderface, and came upon the story of Tom’s death. The author wove a tall tale which makes amusing reading. She then relates some fascinating stories of the Stoney Chief Hector, who as a young man would go hunting in the Highwood – one of my favorite hiking areas. It was a little different in those days. There were more important things to worry about than meeting bears, such as looking out for one's "deadly enemies" who were waiting to ambush and kill you.

Anyway, back to today’s story. There was hardly any snow on the road beyond the winter gate at Elbow Falls. I strode up the road for a few hundred yards to the start of Powderface Trail. This is one of the more popular trails year-round, and I was counting on it being well compacted by many feet since the last snowfall. I was right. I was able to travel the entire six and a half kilometres to the top of the Pass wearing my hiking boots with my trusty MICROspikes for traction.

The snow conditions would have been good for skiers, but this trail is so popular with hikers and horse riders that any ski tracks are quickly obliterated. Nevertheless, higher up the Pass I did see that an intrepid skier had made it to the top.

It was familiar going up the narrow-sided valley, through the drift fence, and up to the junction with Prairie Link trail. Most people turn right here to make a loop with Prairie Creek trail, ending up back at their cars on a perfect hiking circuit of about eleven and a half kilometres. I continued up the Powderface Creek. The trail was initially gentle and fairly straight, but then it started to climb more steeply as the valley meets the hillside ahead.

There is a tight bend curving to the right, followed by another to the left. At this point, one is treated to a surprise view eastwards to the slopes of Prairie Mountain, and the downtown skyscrapers of Calgary on the prairie beyond the foothills, under clear skies. The trail continued to climb up the forested hillsides, finally reaching the Pass. Here was a different world. The long, snow-covered Nihahi Ridge dominated the views to the west. Above it the clouds were thick. A cold wintry breeze was blowing snowflakes around. This is a popular place in summer, with hikers reaching the Pass from the much shorter trail from the west, and then heading up onto Powderface Ridge.

There was a tempting high point above the Pass but I had already climbed over 1600 feet today and the route was not obvious. And it felt very much like real winter up here with the blustery wind blowing the snow around. So instead I clambered the few feet up onto the open ridge above the Pass, where I had even more impressive views east to Calgary as well as west to the mountains.

Switching to my snow shoes, I made good time back down the snowy path. It seemed much steeper going down than when I was climbing up to the Pass. Back in the meadows at Prairie Link junction, I was perhaps a little surprised that I had not yet seen any other travelers. In fact, I was almost back at the start before I passed a group of five hikers plodding up the trail. There were signs of a horse and rider having come up the path this morning.

Although the skies had been mostly clear, except on the Pass, the sun was so low at this time of year that I only had a few glimpses of it in the valley. But the days are now getting longer. Today, for instance, there were now forty seconds more daylight than on the shortest day!

Back on the road, I passed a couple of groups out for an afternoon’s stroll. I had been first car at the gate this morning. Now I counted twenty three vehicles plus three horse trailers. Somehow I had missed all these people, but they were out there somewhere on the trails, and more people were preparing to join them. In fact the Elbow Valley was busy with families enjoying the last day of the Christmas Holiday. There is a popular slope by the road which some kids were tobogganing down, and there were cars parked by the trailheads of the popular hikes.

This had been a great way to end this year’s record-breaking campaign. During the trip, temperatures had risen from about minus 5 degrees C to minus 1 degree. But the forecast was for snow and falling temperatures. It was wintry enough today on top of Powderface Pass, and I was glad I had chosen today for my last adventure of the year.

The photo in this blog is a close-up of the eastern “face” of Nihahi Ridge. I have not touched it up at all, but is that a wry grin under a large hairy moustache, or a large scary open mouth?? One is never alone in the mountains - but then perhaps this is what happens when one goes on too many trips alone.

END OF MY 2010 BLOG
The Passionate Hiker

Statistics
Powderface Pass
Tues. 28 December

Total Dist. 6.5 km (hike) + 6.5 km (’shoe) = 13.0 km
Height Gain 1,670 ft.
Max. Elev. 6,650 ft.
Time on trail 4 hrs. 16 mins.
Temperature: Rising from minus 5 degrees C to minus 1 degree C

Calgary's Wilderness

Fri. 24 December: Glenmore Reservoir Circuit

New camera! And, as this trip today showed, better results.

L gave me a new Canon PowerShot SX130 IS for our anniversary, to replace the previous Canon which I wore out on my outdoor trips of the past two years.

It’s nice just occasionally to be able to start a hike right from one’s own front door. Living in the southwest corner of Calgary means that the wilderness is only a few city blocks away.

Heading north through the local neighborhood, I soon came to the edge of Glenmore Reservoir. A pathway runs all the way around the reservoir, passing through some remote woodland alongside the Tsuu T’ina Indian Reserve.

In wintertime, as now, when the lake is frozen over and snow covered, it is fun to drop down to the lake and follow the ski trails around the reservoir. You can’t do this in summertime, as it gets wet and boggy here, where the Elbow River runs into the top end of the reservoir. I discovered a new route closer to the southern edge of the river. A very straight, overgrown trail might once have been a pathway before the reservoir was built in the 1930’s, or the route of an early telegraph or power line. Crossing over the frozen Elbow River on the nice new footbridge, I continued to stay at reservoir level below the bluffs of North Glenmore Park. This route gave me a good chance to try out the new camera, pointing into the low sun with the trees as foreground.

Suddenly, not far ahead of me, a coyote ran slowly out onto the ice. Stopping a hundred yards or so out on the frozen surface, it started to howl in that eerily high pitched way. Perhaps he was calling to his coyote friends who were possibly hidden somewhere in the trees across the reservoir. He then started to amble up the middle of the reservoir in a westerly direction.

Passing below the Calgary Canoe Club, I was now making new tracks. It was easier to drop down onto the surface of the reservoir and walk beside the tracks of a lone skier. The cliffs closed in, and I stayed as close to the edge of the slippery surface as possible. But there was nothing to worry about as the ice was quite thick enough after a long period of cold sub-zero temperature. Nevertheless I stayed alert.

Crawling through a hole in the fence, I walked across the Glenmore Causeway, full of rushing traffic. The views west to the mountains were fine, and I could see a Chinook was forming. Already the temperatures had risen from about minus 11 degrees C at 8 a.m. to closer to minus 3 by the end of the hike.

Once across the causeway, I took a route I have never tried before. Staying low down by the reservoir, I skirted the edge of Heritage Park, walking across the ice past the “No Trespassing” sign, and past the paddle steamer which had been safely stored on dry land over the winter. Here I followed a good roadway leading to the boat dock for the steamer in summer.

Coming around a corner I passed a man who looked as if he might have spent a cold night out by the edge of the reservoir. He wore a cowboy hat and seemed to be preparing to head out for the day. He was perhaps in his 30’s and we exchanged a cheery “Merry Christmas”. He was right in pointing out to me that I could have made faster time on skis.

There were a few people out enjoying the pleasant, cold winter day, as I passed below the big “H” sign at Heritage Park. Turning off the reservoir trail, I walked through the Bayview neighborhood with its large family homes all decorated for Christmas. Soon I was back home, keen to check out the results from my new camera – and I was not disappointed.


Statistics
Glenmore Reservoir Circuit
Fri. 24 December

Total Dist. 15 km (hike)
Height Gain 0 ft.
Max. Elev. 3642 ft.
Time on trail 3 hrs. 20 mins.
Temperature: Rising from minus 11 to minus 3 degrees C

Snow Shoe Trail

Fri. 17 December: Taylor Lake

Talk about a good work-out. Try snow-shoeing up 2000 vertical feet of wintry, snow-covered, forested Canadian mountainside in minus twenty degrees C!

Taylor Lake had been on my list for a hiking trip this summer, but due to the massive road-twinning construction works between Castle Junction and Lake Louise, the trailhead was closed. Now a new trailhead has been built, a couple of hundred metres to the east, and once more the trail is open for business. Not that I was expecting to see anyone today, as the Taylor Lake trail is not on the Banff Park list of winter trails.

It was overcast and snowing lightly as I left the city, in the early rush-hour. By the time I reached the Kananaskis turn-off on the Trans-Canada Highway, there was enough light to show me that I had left the clouds behind, and was heading into a sunny day in the mountains. Canmore was mostly hidden in a low mist, and the mountain scenery was spectacular and wintry. Several elk stags were grazing by the side of the highway, as I passed the Banff airstrip. There was a good flow of traffic, probably a mix of the Banff rush-hour and ski-hill employees heading to work.

There’s now a brand new sign about 8 km west of Castle Junction, marking the new trailhead, and a large area beside the highway has been ploughed. To reach the trail, you make your way through the fence into the forest. It was a cold morning, with mist hiding the lower slopes of the towering Castle Mountain. Checking the temperatures later, it showed that at 9 a.m. it was minus 26 degrees C in Banff, and minus 17 in Lake Louise, so I reckon that here below Taylor Lake it was in the low minus 20’s.

I was well dressed for this trip, and had soon strapped on my snow shoes and was heading through the fence into the wintry wilderness. I could tell that nobody had been along here since the recent light snowfall this week. But I was glad that there had been an earlier traveler along this trail since the first heavy snowfall, as they had packed the snow down on the trail, making the journey much easier. Whenever I strayed off this narrow path, I would find my snowshoes sinking into deeper snow. It was a demanding trail, after the first kilometer or so of gentle slopes meandering through the trees. The trees were all snow-covered, and it was a very pretty scene, although wintry and remote.

After crossing Taylor Creek on a small bridge, the long uphill test began. The lower section of the trail twisted uphill, with some blind corners. At this time of year, I wasn’t worried about meeting a bear head-on, and I knew by the undisturbed snow that I was alone on the trail. But nevertheless, I speculated, there just might be something unexpected around the corner. I did meet a snow-covered bush which as you see I turned into a happy snowface – now at least I had one friend on this lonely trail.

The trail, although steep, did not try to head directly up the mountainside. There were several switchbacks, making it a reasonably straightforward, but long, journey. I kept thinking that I must be near the top, but I wasn’t even close, as I kept finding yet another section of uphill trail ahead of me.

This was not a trail for good - or any - views. Nor did it catch very much of the low sun, until I was much higher up the slopes. The trail and lake lie on the northern side of the mountain range, and so, with only 3 days to go until the shortest day of the year, there was very little sun to be had, even when the skies were, as today, clear.

Finally I reached another small bridge, across Taylor Creek. The lake lay ahead of me, hidden behind the trees. First, however, I turned right, climbing some way up a gulley, in deeper snow. A mountain skier had been this way before the last snowfall. I think this is the summer route up to Panorama Ridge – a possible future trip. Turning around, I came back to the trail, and plodded the last few hundred metres through foot-deep snow to the edge of the frozen lake.

Taylor Lake is a magnificent, and large, mountain lake, in some ways as impressive as Lake Louise. It is ringed by towering mountains. In summer I would be standing in gorgeous wildflower meadows, not deep snow. To my right was a small back-country campsite, romantically known as Ta-6, which was buried under the snow. In fact, I couldn’t get off the trail to sit down, so I just had a brief snack where I stood, then started back down the trail.

There was a sign pointing towards another lake, about 2 km away, above Taylor Lake. It is called Lake O’Brien. I knew at once that this would have to wait until another time, as the snow was deep and I had taken enough exercise slogging up through the snow as far as this.

My return journey, as is usually the case, was a lot easier. Snow shoes work really well down the slopes, as long as you remember to keep a slightly wider gap between your feet! Otherwise you can get into a terrible tangle. I noticed with surprise that a skier had come up the trail behind me and was now, I suppose, somewhere higher up the mountainside. The ski tracks were wide, being made by a pair of rugged mountaineering skis. I never saw the person.

It was a long way down the mountain trail. If I had known it was this far, I may not have been so keen to attempt it today. On my way up, I had thought I was near the top when in fact I wasn’t even halfway up. I made great time down the hill, and so back to the car. Here the temperatures had risen to perhaps around minus 13 degrees C and the sun was shining on the high ridges of Castle Mountain across the valley. My balaclava and jacket were coated with ice.

I was glad to get back in the car and warm up. It was an easy journey out of the sunny mountains The Bow Valley around Canmore was full of smoke from some controlled burns on the hillsides below the Nordic Centre. Not far east of the Kananaskis turnoff I was back in the cloud. In the city, people had been suffering all day from low cloud and snow flurries. As for me, I was ready for a good night’s sleep.


Statistics
Taylor Lake
Fri. 17 December

Total Dist. 13.8 km (snow-shoe)
Height Gain 2020 ft.
Max. Elev. 6880 ft.
Time on Trail 4 hrs. 39 mins.
Temperature around minus 20 degrees C

Skiing in the Foothills

Sat. 11 December: Sandy McNabb Ski Trails

“’Tis the Season” - for driving out into the foothills and cutting yourself a nice Christmas tree for free. But at least in the Sheep River valley, there were plenty of signs warning you not to do that, and the Provincial Parks “police”, known as Conservation Officers, were keeping a close eye on things.

Not that I was out to steal a tree. We had already bought ours in town at a large and unromantic parking lot. But I did want to get out into the foothills to try out the Sandy McNabb ski trails, and today the snow conditions might just be good enough to do so.

Very often, the Sheep River and West Bragg Creek cross-country ski trails are not great. The Chinook winds blow the snow off the hillsides and the wild temperature swings leave crusty and icy snow. But when it’s right, these trails are as much fun as any in the mountains, and ideal for a half-day adventure.

The Sheep River valley is a perfect place to take anyone on their first trip to the Alberta Foothills. You come around a corner, and there ahead of you the mountain panorama unfolds, the entire western horizon lined with the peaks of the Front Ranges. Today it was made even more spectacular by a morning sun shining on the snow-covered mountains.

The one slightly mystifying thing is that the Sandy McNabb trails are not well signposted, until you are ON them. The best start is actually right beside the visitor information centre, just a few kilometers before you get to the winter gate. Both the visitor centre and the winter gate are closed at this time of year.

Once on the trail system, the signposting is good, and you can make any number of route choices on trails which measure over 37 km in total. They wind up onto tree-lined ridges, open to the winds, and further into the rolling, forested countryside, generally keeping at a manageable angle. On the west side of the Long Prairie Loop are stunning views west across to the Front Ranges, snow-covered and remote.

Most of the rest of the trails are through the trees, across meadows with enticing junctions with signposts pointing into the forest. It’s not flat, and so you are either climbing usually gentle slopes or gliding effortlessly along winding trails. Occasionally there are steeper sections where I would point my skis downhill and hope for the best.

Today, I had to bail out just before a narrow bridge, as the trail took a sharp dip just before the bridge and I was worried the skis would go down a hole and snap in two. On the next hill, I found myself heading for a tree and stopped myself just in time, with my skis each side of a sturdy tree trunk. Apart from these adventures, it was a pleasant trip.

The snow conditions were reasonable except on the eastern slopes, where there were obstacles sticking up out of the snow, and I needed my metal edges to steer me across crusty and slippery surfaces. This had been a test of my new boots and bindings, which were a great success. I had good control of the skis, although the sharp rise in temperature during the morning, from minus 16 to close to zero, made the waxing a bit tricky.

It was only as I came down through the final meadow that I met my first people, a couple heading up the trail. Returning to the Winter Gate, I could see that the construction fence was still up, and there seemed to be activity in the Sandy McNabb campsite. They have been working on it all year, apparently a major renovation of the popular camping spot.

I drove slowly east on the snow-packed road, enjoying the scenery, with a very light fresh snowfall from the previous day resting on the trees. It had been yet another perfect outing into Alberta’s magical foothills.


Statistics
Sandy McNabb Ski Trails
Sat. 11 December

Total Dist. 10 km (XC Ski)
Height Gain 450 ft.
Max. Elev. 5150 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 52 mins.
Temperature Minus 16 degrees C at start

Telephone Connection

Sat. 4 December: West Bragg Creek Trails

Off the beaten track – on a beaten track. Today I explored a trail which no longer shows in any guidebook. So I had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, someone had been there ahead of me, creating a helpful pathway across the snowy, forested hillsides.

Not far west of the city, in the foothills west of Bragg Creek village, lie some very popular cross-country ski trails. On a sunny weekend in winter, these trails will fill up with skiers (and hikers with dogs running free) and bedlam will reign.

Looking through my various guidebooks, I noticed an intriguing trail which runs across some remote ridges, connecting the eastern and western legs of the Telephone Trail. Telephone is the longest and toughest of the Bragg Creek trails. A full circuit is over 15 km, into remote forested valleys. This short-cut would take me up to some viewpoints, and would cut off the long northern section of this trail.

Another cloudless morning, with an orange glow along the eastern horizon. As I set out from the car park, the sunlight was just starting to catch the tops of the trees. It was a cold morning, at around minus 16 degrees C, and so I was not surprised to be first on the trail today. I had my snow shoes on for this first leg, and carried my skis, strapped to my backpack.

Telephone Trail’s east leg starts at the car park. Climbing the hillside I soon turned left up the Hostel trail, on a long climb. Somewhere in the trees there used to be a Youth Hostel, but it burned down in 1984 and was never rebuilt. At the top of the hill the ski trail turned right, while I continued straight on, up the hill. This is where my unmarked route started. For some reason it has disappeared from all the trail signs. But somebody must know about it, as the path was beaten down by at least one pair of snow shoes and one set of skis.

The lower part of the trail, which used to be called “Ridge Trail”, was identified by some snow shoe signs nailed to the trees, but that trail soon veered down to the right. My trail, an old logging road, continued at a gradual angle up the forested hillsides, curving round to the right to a nice viewpoint. From here I could see part of the city of Calgary and the lower foothills to the east of Bragg Creek. This pleasant trail continued to climb, until I came to a high point, with good views west, to the bare, snowy ridges of Moose Mountain, 7995 ft.

The older guide books describe this trail as running through open cut-blocks. But over the years, the trees have started to grow back, and it is now mostly enclosed. Nevertheless, there are still some fine views to the west. I was glad to be able to follow the snow-shoer and the skier, as the route from here was not obvious. The trail started to angle downwards, swinging to the right. The scale of my map was a little misleading. Once again it reminded me how easy it is to get disoriented in the foothills, especially when the snow hides any sign of a trail.

In the end, I was on the right path, but I turned off it earlier than planned, and quickly joined the western leg of Telephone Trail just south of its high point, instead of about a kilometre or so further north. Here I swapped my snowshoes for my skis. Telephone Trail runs through a narrow valley. Several skiers had passed through here, but the trail had not been track-set. My light skis were not ideal for semi-off-trail conditions, but I stayed upright and soon came to the junction with Moose Loop.

Turning west, I immediately came out of the forest into a wide, sunny valley, below the high ridges of Moose Mountain. I ski’d along this open valley for a short while, until I reached a junction with a more tricky ski trail heading up into the trees. Here I turned around and returned to the junction. The wind had blown the snow around, leaving bare sections, and exposed rocks and stones. I negotiated that section, then ski’d and walked down a slippery steep road to the creek (Bragg creek). Crossing over, I was now on the final section of road back to the car. Here were plenty of skiers out already, as well as some snow-shoers and hikers with their dogs. It was a pleasant glide back down the road to the car.

In the short time I had been on the trail, the car park had filled up, and weekend bedlam was well under way. It was still cold, perhaps around minus 14 degrees C, and people were well wrapped up. But the sun shone out of a cloudless sky.

I had found this Telephone connector trail quite fascinating, and look forward to returning in the summer to explore its northern section. In the meantime, it was time to leave Bragg Creek to the weekend crowd.


Statistics
West Bragg Creek Trails
Sat. 4 December

Total Dist. 4.0 km (’shoe) + 4.5 km (ski) = 8.5 km
Height Gain 660 ft.
Max. Elev. 5350 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 37 mins.
Temperature Minus 16 degrees C

Blueberry Hill

Mon. 29 November: Blueberry Hill

“I found my thrill
On Blueberry Hill”

sang Fats Domino. Reading my diary from my two previous visits to Blueberry Hill, in 1984 and 1988, I seemed to have made light work of the hazardous ski trip down from this magical viewpoint. Today, over twenty years after my last visit, I decided to make life a little easier by snow-shoeing it. It was still a good workout.

This would be a rare Monday trip, designed to avoid the crowds on one of the most popular cross-country skiing trails in Kananaskis Country.

It was still almost two hours before dawn as I left the city. Venus was brightly shining in the southern sky. The first signs of dawn came soon, in a cloudless eastern sky. By 8.15 a.m., the sunshine was lighting up the high ridges as I drove down to the far end of the Kananaskis Valley. Not surprisingly the Elk Pass car park was empty. I had the trails to myself.

Today I returned to the same trail which I had biked just a few weeks ago in early October. What a change now! The snow was already quite deep, and hanging on the trees, and the skiing conditions were already excellent – as always.

Some of the snow-clad bushes by the side of the trail looked uncannily alive, such as the three snow people riding a motorbike – but perhaps my imagination was running away with itself.

Temperatures were around minus 13 degrees C, which is a good skiing temperature. I needed two layers of gloves to avoid frozen fingers, but had no difficulty climbing the first steep hill to the powerline. Heading down the other side of the hill was a little trickier because these skis are a little light-weight. Upper Fox Creek is always a delight. The tracks were set and the snow hung on the trees. Ahead were glimpses of wintry mountainsides, with a slight mist rising from the lake.

Minus 13 degrees might sound a little chilly, but it was almost tropical compared to the temperatures earlier in the week. In Calgary it had dipped down to minus 30 C with a wind chill close to minus 40. Someone told me that at Lake Louise the wind chill had been minus 52 C, and the ski hill had shut down. So today was ideal for an outdoor trip.

At Blueberry junction, I left my skis behind a tree and proceeded up the Blueberry Trail wearing my snow shoes. The ’shoes certainly made this an easier trip. The first part of the trail is quite steep, and I might have had some difficulty with my skis. I had forgotten that the middle part of the trail was reasonably flat, as it passed below the towering cliffs of Mt. Fox. I had also forgotten that Blueberry Trail is over 3 km long, and gives you a good workout whatever you’re wearing on your feet.

The last section climbs up to the narrow forested ridge and its picnic table. Here is a spectacular viewpoint for the Upper and Lower Kananaskis Lakes. The western skyline is dominated by Mt. Putnik, 9646 ft., below which I could clearly see the rounded summit known as Upper Kananaskis River viewpoint, where I had stood only last month.

It was so cold today that the water in my water bottles had frozen almost solid, but I had also brought along some hot chocolate in a thermos, which warmed me up. Returning down the trail, it seemed to be a long steep downhill journey. I wondered how, a quarter century or so ago, I had ski’d down this route with apparently such little difficulty. Today I was glad of my snow shoes.

Back at the junction, I put my skis back on, and enjoyed the long glide back down Upper Fox Creek. Somewhere near the lower end of the creek I saw my first people, a couple of skiers, coming up the trail. We greeted each other politely.

In a slightly adventurous mood, and not wishing to tackle the steep powerline hill again, I turned right into lower Fox Creek, on a trail which was very narrow, but luckily not too steep. The Kananaskis Country website currently shows this trail as “not recommended”, but it was manageable with caution, as it twisted through the trees, gradually dropping down the snow-filled valley. This trail finally links to the bottom end of my original Elk Pass trail, where I whizzed down the final slopes back to the car, meeting just one other couple along the way.

Instead of the crowded weekend scene, the car park was deserted except for my car and three others.

It was such a perfect day that I decided to take a chance and return to town over the Highwood Pass. The winter gate was due to close at midnight tomorrow, and so I wouldn’t have been surprised if the road had been unploughed. But, although snow packed, it was in good winter driving condition. There was only the occasional vehicle to be seen, and I think these might have been hunters.

On my way down to the Highwood Junction, I stopped at some of my favorite places, such as Cat Creek, where a large horse trailer was parked. They were probably out hunting somewhere over the Highwood River, which was now totally snow covered and silent.

With the winter gates due to be swung closed in just over 24 hours time, this would be my last trip into this magic Highwood country until next June.

Driving east along the Highwood valley, the wind was blowing the snow across the road – it was almost as if I was driving along a flowing river of mist. It was a relaxed journey back through Longview and Turner Valley, and into the city just before the Monday rush hour. And yes, I did stop at the Turner Valley store for essential supplies!


Statistics
Blueberry Hill
Mon. 29 November

Total Dist. 11.0 km (ski) + 6.4 km (’shoe) = 17.4 km
Height Gain 1230 ft.
Max. Elev. 6730 ft.
Time on trail 4 hrs. 17 mins.
Temperature minus 13 degrees C at start

Season Opener

Sat. 20 November: Season Opener

This was a city trip but I'm making an exception.

Winter arrived in a hurry this week. Seven short days ago I was biking across the city. Today there was a foot of new snow and temperatures in the minus 20’s.

South Glenmore Park, just a few minutes from home, was the ideal place to declare the cross-country season open, on a day when travel outside of the city was tricky. It was a short trip from the boat dock westwards into the avenue of snow-covered trees and back again. It showed me that I have work to do on my skis. One boot sits unevenly on the ski, so I’ll need to sort it out before heading into the mountains.

A bright sun made this a true winter wonderland, with the snow heavy on the trees. Even with temperatures warming up to a balmy minus 17 degrees C, a slight breeze made it feel colder, and I was glad to return to a warm home.


Statistics
S. Glenmore Park
Sat. 20 November

Total Dist. 4.0 km (X-C ski)
Height Gain 0 ft.
Max. Elev. 3590 ft.
Time on trail 1 hr. 6 mins.
Temp. Minus 17 C

Disappearing Rivers

Fri. 12 November: Cobble Flats to Little Elbow via Wildhorse

No – I’m not crazy (as far as I know). I was NOT hiking the Canadian Rockies in sandals in November. But I WAS wading icy cold rivers in my sandals. Perhaps that qualifies me as at least slightly eccentric.

Keen to take advantage of a "bonus” hiking day, I headed up to the end of the Elbow Valley to have some fun by making two crossings of the Elbow River. The plan was to hike the northern portion of the Wildhorse Trail, below the northern slopes of Forgetmenot Ridge, returning by bike along the road. It was not a long trip, but it involved various river crossings and a route that was new to me.

A couple of inches of snow had fallen in the Foothills, but the road was bare and dry. While it was mostly cloudy, it promised to clear during the afternoon. I hid my bike at the end of the Elbow Valley road, just beyond Forgetmenot Lake, then drove back to Cobble Flats, where my hike would start. The last time I was at Cobble Flats, in late August, I was returning wet and muddy from my three day adventure along Quirk Creek and up Forgetmenot Mountain. The trip had ended with my splashing through the cold waters of the Elbow River with my bike, and not bothering to remove my boots. Today I needed to have dry boots, and so I sat on the wide stony edge of the river to remove my boots and socks for a wade across the icy river. The water came up to my knees. I sat in the snow on the opposite side of the river to put my boots back on, thinking that river crossings are always a lot of fun, even in the snow.

Now I turned right and joined the old snow-covered trail as it headed westwards. Soon coming to a small bridge over a tiny stream, I crossed over, and in a few hundred yards came to the junction with the Wildhorse Trail. Wildhorse runs southwards along the eastern flanks of Forgetmenot Ridge, to the remote campsite where I spent two nights in August. At this trail junction where I was now standing, Wildhorse Trail then turns west, passing below the northern end of the ridge, and leading to the far end of the Elbow Valley. The trail soon comes out into a wider meadow with mountain peaks ahead. Footprints in the snow showed me that one person had come the other way recently. Further along the trail, the number of footprints increased, indicating that several people had come part way along the trail from the western end. This surprised me since this involved a crossing of the Little Elbow river. The reason would be apparent soon.

Small ponds along the trail were rapidly icing up, and the scene was a wintry one. At a high point in the trail, a stone cairn marked the start of the route to the summit of Forgetmenot Ridge, a steep slog up the hillside for about 2000 vertical feet.

Now for the surprise. I came out onto wide open gravel flats. Here the Little Elbow River flowed out from the mountains – or not. For the entire river had disappeared underground, allowing people to walk right across the wide riverbed. It was a spectacular place to stand, surrounded by sharp-peaked snowy mountains – but no river. A little further along, I came to the Elbow River itself, which happily still had plenty of water in it. I crossed over the lovely pedestrian suspension bridge, and so back to the end of the road and my bike. I had met one group of three with a dog just before the bridge. They were the only people on this popular trail.

It only took me a few minutes to speed down the road back to the car. By now the skies were clearing, and it was another wonderful day in the Rockies. I drove slowly back down the valley, in no hurry to return to a busy city.

Statistics
Cobble Flats circuit
Fri. 12 November

Total Dist. 5.9 km (hike) +4.6 km (bike) =10.5 km
Height Gain 160 ft.
Max. Elev. 5330 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 14 mins.

Racing against Winter

Sat. 6 November: Jumpingpound Mountain

Up on that high ridge, it felt a lot like a race against winter. And for a short time I wondered if I would win or not. In the end, the fierce winds did not push the wintry clouds eastwards from their perch above the high mountains, and the blue skies won the battle.

The line of ridges on the east side of the Powderface Trail have always been a favorite for hikers, and now mountain bikers. Cox Hill, Jumpingpound Ridge, and Powderface Ridge, could be combined into a long day outing, or even connected to the Moose Mountain ridges for a VERY long day. My plan today was not so ambitious. I would make a circuit of Jumpingpound Ridge, in a clockwise direction, starting at the northern access, and returning down the Summit Trail, with a final bike ride to connect the two trailheads.

These November days are short for hiking. As I left the city at around 7.15 a.m., there was only the faintest hint of dawn in the eastern sky. The stars were shining brightly above. It was still dark as I traveled west up the Elbow Valley. At the junction with Powderface Trail, a sign warned of road closure for a road rally – very luckily scheduled for tomorrow, not today. As the sun started to rise, the clouds glowed pink over the mountains.


Powderface Trail is a narrow, twisting road, luckily this morning with no traffic on it. The surface was newly graveled and in good shape, perhaps in readiness for the rally. Dropping my bike off at the Jumpingpound summit trailhead, I continued for another few kilometers to the start of my hike. This was the path I had hiked in October last year in sub-zero temperatures and snow cover. I was looking forward to continuing up onto the high ridge today.

Except for a very few short sections of the ridge, the trail was bare and dry for its entire length and so I had no need today of my MicroSpikes – very unexpected for November. So I made good progress up the zig-zag trail and then up through the trees to the ridge. Once on the ridge, I turned southwards and steadily made my way towards Jumpingpound Summit. To the west, a line of wintry clouds sat above the mountains, and under a fierce westerly wind, threatened to sweep eastwards across to my ridge within a few seconds. However, above me and to the east, the skies were clear. The battle seemed to rage all morning, and a few smaller clouds were torn free and flung eastwards, but despite the gale, the clouds stayed over the Front Ranges, where new snow must have been falling. Luckily this was a warm Chinook wind, so it was a pleasant hike along the wide ridge top. Nevertheless, despite the blue skies overhead, a few icy pellets were finding their way across on the wind, stinging my face.

The old line of large cairns have for some reason been flattened since my last visit here in the early 1990’s. And the path has been worn into a wide groove by the mountain bikers. But it is still a grand hike with views east of Moose Mountain and even Calgary far to the east, and west to the stormy Front Ranges. In places the trail cleverly hugs the eastern side of the ridge out of the wind, through the trees. In other places, you hike across a wide exposed landscape with nothing protecting you from the buffeting winds. It is an easy detour to the little rocky summit. There is a large bush strategically placed to give an ideal shelter for lunch.

So far I had seen nobody, and so I expected to find hikers coming up the Summit Trail. There were none. This quick descent to the road is very nicely graded in a series of switchbacks and little bridges across the dry creek, down and down through the forest. Finally I came out onto the Powderface Trail road. While I was up on the ridge, the rally people had passed by, and put yellow “do not enter” tape across the trailhead, with a sign warning of the road closure. This was the reason for no hikers on the trail.

I changed into my biking gear, and set off down the road back to the car. Today must have been a trail-check day for the rally drivers, as the road was busy with rally cars passing slowly by. I whizzed down the road on my bike, being a little wary of the new gravel. In no time at all I had returned to my car. There was just one other vehicle there, suggesting one party was now up on the ridge. I decided to keep driving northwards along the road, towards Sibbald Creek. Carefully navigating the bends in the road, I passed several rally cars now coming southwards. In the Cox Hill parking area there must have been a dozen cars – obviously this must be the more popular hill for hikers today.

At the far northern end of Powderface Trail, a guy was sitting in a camp chair by his car to warn non-rally drivers to stay off the road. I tried not to kick up too much dust as I passed by. From here it was a fast return to a sunny Calgary, basking in unseasonably warm sunshine.

Statistics
Jumpingpound Mountain
Sat. 6 November

Total Dist. 9.8 km (hike) + 6.2 km (bike) =16.0 km
Height Gain 2001 ft.
Max. Elev. 7349 ft.
Time on trail 3 hrs. 24 mins.

Travels with Joe

Fri. 22 - Wed. 27 October: Travels with Joe

This week my godson Joe, 16, has been visiting from England. This gave me the perfect chance to show him some of my favorite corners of the Alberta foothills and mountains. We wasted no time getting out there, despite the often wintry weather.

Friday 22nd: Elbow River Valley

Starting close to home, we explored the Elbow River valley, along with his mom (and my “oldest” friend) S. We enjoyed the reflections of Forgetmenot Pond, the swirling waters of Elbow Falls, and then a short stroll part way up the Fullerton Loop Trail to the first viewpoint.

It was mostly overcast but not particularly cold. There were some skiffs of snow in places, and more on the mountainsides, but no heavy snowfall warnings in the forecast – yet. On the way back we enjoyed an unseasonal ice cream in the village of Bragg Creek.

Statistics
Fullerton Loop
Fri. 22 October

Total Dist. 4.0 km (hike)
Height Gain 300 ft.
Max. Elev. 4900 ft.
Time on trail 1 hr. 10 mins.

Saturday 23rd: Banff and Lake Louise

Next day Joe and I headed west to Banff National Park. Here we took the gondola to the top of Sulphur Mountain and then strolled up the boardwalks to the observatory on Sanson Peak. Being a partly sunny Saturday, it was quite busy with tourists. After a burger at Bruno’s in Banff we turned westwards to Lake Louise. We drove up to the Lake Louise ski hill, and stood on the balcony of the Lodge, looking across to the front slopes. There were just a few patches of man-made snow. Yet the season will probably be in full swing by mid-November.

At Lake Louise itself, the lakeside was of course busy with sightseers, even a wedding party. The lake seemed to be colorless today, but as we climbed the switchback path, looking down we could see that wonderful duck-egg blue color of the water from above. It looked unreal, almost as if it was filled with blue PowerAid, we thought.

There was a steady procession of people coming back down the path: people of all ages, in assorted clothing, some more suitable for a high street, but everyone happy to exchange a cheery “hello” as we passed.

Mirror Lake was frozen over, but the path up to Lake Agnes only had a trace of snow on it. So Joe was not able yet to try out his new MicroSpikes, care of Mountain Equipment Co-op in Calgary.

Lake Agnes was also frozen over, and people were wandering about on the ice, some with skates on and hockey sticks. The ice looked a little thin to me, but nobody fell through so it must have been safe enough. We returned down the steps and along the pretty trail to Mirror Lake and then down to Lake Louise, detouring through the lobby of the Chateau to warm up a bit. It was dark by the time we reached Canmore. It had been a full day.

Statistics
Sulphur Mtn. Summit
Sat. 23 October

Total Dist. 1.0 km (hike)
Height Gain 184 ft.
Max. Elev. 7667 ft.
Time on trail 0 hrs. 38 mins.


Statistics
Lake Agnes
Sat. 23 October

Total Dist. 8.0 km (hike)
Height Gain 1300 ft.
Max. Elev. 7000 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 28 mins.


Monday 25th: Upper Kananaskis Lake

Off to the Kananaskis Lakes – despite a wintry look to Calgary this morning. A thin cover of new snow had fallen and it was spitting snow. But we ignored this and happily jumped into the car for the journey west along the Trans-Canada Highway and then south down the Kananaskis Valley. Clouds hung around the mountains, and there was new snow on the front ranges.

We stopped at Canoe Meadows and the Widow-maker to see if anyone was on the river – there was nobody there. Today was a colder day, with a promise of snow showers. Arriving at the Interlakes parking area between the Lower and Upper Kanananskis Lakes, we bundled up well, before setting off along the north side of the Upper Lake. There were no other cars parked here, and we did not expect to find anyone on the trail – and there were none. Sadly there were no large moose or elk or bear to be seen either. A year ago I had seen a huge moose at close range, but not today.

We hiked along the upper trail before dropping down across the boulder field and down to the western edge of the lake. Soon we were within the sound of the Upper Kananaskis Falls, which tumble down into the Upper Lake, with the high cliffs of Mt. Lyautey half hidden in the mist above. Here we stopped for a picnic at a convenient bench, before returning down the trail.

I thought Joe might like to have a look around a typical Canadian backcountry campsite, so we wandered through the Point campsite. There were huge piles of newly chopped logs, and even a large axe left for the use of campers. We thought that the two new, circular green loos might have been time machines in disguise. But opening the door, one sniff told us that they certainly were not. Campsite #20 would be my choice for the perfect campsite award, and I will return one day soon to stay there for a night or two.

Joe is a strong hiker and so it didn’t take us long to stride back up the boulder field, and along the lower route through the forest by the lake, back to our car.

We were not finished yet. I was curious to see the new footbridge that had just been installed at Sarrail Creek. So we drove to the eastern end of the Upper Lake, and strolled the 1.2 km around the edge of the lake to the creek. It was a nice bridge, but when I was here a year ago, the old one looked strong enough. Perhaps it had been damaged by a falling tree? Anyway, we stopped to admire the tumbling waterfall before returning back along the trail. There had been some isolated sunny breaks, but it had generally been overcast and quite cold, with a westerly breeze. So we were glad to climb back into a warm car.

Our return journey took us over the Highwood Pass, where the wind was blowing snow across the road, and then down the Highwood Valley. There were a few cars parked here and there – horse riders, hunters, and a few hikers – perhaps surprising for a Monday in late October. In the Cat Creek picnic area was a covered wagon – I had heard that you may come across these on the trails west of the Highwood, but had never seen one before. There were a few trailers parked in the Strawberry winter campsite – probably hunters. As we drove east we left the patches of sunshine behind us and entered a cloudy, overcast landscape. We were soon back in Calgary.


Statistics
Upper Kananaskis Falls
Mon. 25 October

Total Dist. 9.0 km (hike)
Height Gain 160 ft.
Max. Elev. 5800 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 57 mins.

Statistics
Mt. Sarrail Creek Bridge
Mon. 25 October

Total Dist. 2.4 km (hike)
Height Gain 0 ft.
Max. Elev. 5700 ft.
Time on trail 0 hrs. 36 mins.

Wednesday 27th: Sheep River Valley

A cold, foggy morning in Calgary didn’t deter us from confidently heading out on our next adventure – which turned out to be a very good decision.

Driving south out of Calgary I tried to point out my office, half enveloped in fog. After finding a way across the blocked railway line in Okotoks, we turned west towards Big Rock. Here it was several degrees below freezing, there was a fog, and the snow and ice covered the interpretive sign. But we walked around the glacial “erratic” and had fun imagining how this huge rock made its way down from the distant mountains – was it carried by the glacier, or did it chase a Blackfoot Indian across the prairie, or perhaps was it carried by The Flood? All options I have heard!

Continuing west, we passed through Turner Valley and up onto the Sheep River road.

We were in for a big surprise. Suddenly the fog dissipated, and we entered a sunny mountain world. If we had been in an aircraft, the prairie would have appeared as a sea of fog. Up here it was perhaps around freezing or a degree or two above, but the atmosphere was clear and the mountains stood out sharply along the western skyline.

Driving to the far western end of the Sheep Valley, we saw a group of horses being readied for a back-country expedition, and a guy preparing to offload a quad vehicle perhaps to go hunting up the Sheep River. We dropped our bikes off at the Indian Oils picnic area, then returned a little way east to Gorge Creek. My bear warning sign was still taped to the Indian Oils trail sign, over five weeks after I had put it there. I removed it.

Our first task was to cross an active Sheep River. Using our plastic bag technique we were mostly successful, except for a slightly wet sock which we quickly replaced. The Teskey Road trail is not marked on any maps but I knew where to find it. We picked up this old logging road by pushing our way to the back of the forested meadow on the other side of the river. After a straightforward ascent up a slightly clogged trail, we reached the Sheep River gorge and swung south through pleasant meadows into the forest. Joining the Sheep Valley trail, we continued along a wide, muddy trail, but it was frozen enough to allow us to stay dry. Dropping down to Dyson Falls, we sat by the Dyson Creek and enjoyed the sausage rolls which L had bought for us.

The next leg of the journey was familiar territory to me, as we strode along the Sheep Trail in a westerly direction. High above us to the left, on a distant ridge, we could see the Junction fire lookout – now closed up for the winter. The sun shone out of a mostly clear sky, although we could see some clouds bubbling up just over the mountain tops. In summer this might mean afternoon rain, but today they did not threaten.

The gradual descent through the forest brought us to the Indian Oils bridge and Tiger Jaw Falls. Back at our bikes, we relaxed in the sun, before speeding eastwards down the road. On the way, we stopped to walk across the meadow to the edge of the spectacular river gorge – a dangerous spot to stand. One final whiz down a steep hill and we were back at the car.

Reluctantly we returned to the foggy, cold world of the prairies, as the perfect Fall day was swallowed up in an icy mist.

Statistics
Teskey Road to Indian Oils
Wed. 27 October

Total Dist. 8.5 km (hike) + 4.7 km (bike) = 13.2 km
Height Gain 600 ft.
Max. Elev. 5410 ft.
Time on trail 3 hrs. 10 mins.

Late Season Hikes in the Canadian Rockies

Sat. 16 October: Little Beehive Lookout => Hector Lake

Another fire lookout to add to my 2010 haul. And then a visit to a rarely visited but spectacular Rocky Mountain lake – all in one day.

Every trip at this time of year is an added bonus to the hiking season. A year ago I had faced deep snow and temperatures way below zero. This weekend called for endless sunshine, but cool. So of course I couldn’t wait to leave the city and head out to Banff National Park in the mid-afternoon.

The day had started differently. It had snowed a couple of inches in Calgary during the morning, and the skies were still overcast as I left the city. But it was starting to clear up, and the further west I drove, the better the weather became.

The road-works west of Castle Junction were proceeding at full pace – it looked as if they were trying to get a lot of it finished before winter, and that they knew they were already on borrowed time. The Jasper/Icefields junction was particularly frantic with paving crews.

Mosquito Creek campsite, about 30 km north from Lake Louise, is open all year. It is a grand setting, in the Bow River valley along the Icefields Parkway. It surprised me to find that it was high enough here that the site was covered by two inches of new snow.

There were a handful of other campers here. Interesting that there were no large RVs, just – it seemed – younger couples towing small trailers, or sleeping in the backs of their cars. Then there was the author with his tiny tent.

I scraped the ground clear of snow with my boots, then quickly had the tent up, and the picnic table scraped off.

Before lighting the fire and settling down to supper, I drove back down the road, map in hand, to try to figure out the trailhead for Hector Lake. I thought I had it right – I was wrong.

It was a cold evening, with clearing skies. A half moon rose in the sky and the stars came out. I was early to bed. This time, my sleeping bag didn’t feel too warm. The extra blankets kept me warm, as long as I kept my nose under the covers. Some time in the middle of the night, a young couple quietly moved in to the campsite next to mine and erected a tent – safety in numbers I suppose.

Saturday morning was cold. There was a good covering of frost on my tent and on the car. My plan today was to drive back down to Lake Louise to hike up to the Little Beehive lookout, then to return north to explore Hector Lake.

Little Beehive is one of the most popular hikes in the Lake Louise area, and so I expected to share my travels with weekend tourists. In the end, there were not really many people on the upper pathways. What a start to a hike – the beautiful gardens of the Chateau Lake Louise, with the breathtaking lake to my left, as I strolled past the early tourists enjoying the cool morning air.

To reach the Little Beehive one takes the well-graded trail to Lake Agnes, high above Lake Louise. It was this trail which L and I first took our two girls in backpacks in the 1980’s. I made good progress and was soon at Mirror Lake. A little further up the snow-covered trail, I turned right and followed the path up to the Little Beehive summit. Of course the views of the mountain scenery were superb. Lake Louise always lives up to its reputation as a world-class destination.

The summit of Little Beehive is a flat, forested ridge, and on the end of the ridge is a square concrete foundation, the remains of the fire lookout. It seemed quite tiny, but it would have supported a comfy lookout building, before it was removed in the 1980’s. There are grand views of the Bow River Valley, but one can only just see the front end of Lake Louise and the Chateau, far below. Mt. Fairview and mighty Mt. Temple (11,624 ft.), and the soaring cliffs of Big Beehive, dominate the views. The good thing about this trip is that you have options on the return. I turned right and dropped down to Lake Agnes and the teahouse. Sadly the building was boarded up for the winter and the lake was mostly frozen over. I dropped back down to Mirror Lake via a set of steep stairs and a pretty mountain trail.

Back at Lake Louise the day had really started to get going, with crowds of tourists having their pictures taken, and a tour guide giving a talk to a group of attentive guests. Time to leave one crowded lake for another much less frequently visited.

The Bow River flows through Calgary on its long journey across the prairie to Hudsons Bay. The source of the river is the Bow Glacier, just north of my campsite along the Icefields Parkway. Below Bow Glacier sits the spectacular Bow Lake, and from the outlet of the lake, the river runs south towards Lake Louise. This roughly 50 km stretch of river runs through an almost inaccessible and remote valley floor. Hidden below the wall of glacier-capped mountains lies Hector Lake. It is just visible from the Icefields Parkway, but there are no obvious trails to reach it. There is just one viewpoint where tourists can stop to look down to the distant lake. It is the major feeder for the Bow River.

My recce the previous evening had uncovered what I took to be the start of a trail down to the lake, which lay about two kilometers from the highway. Someone had tied a red tape to a bush at a clearing by the road, and there seemed to be a snow-covered trail heading into the thick downward-sloping forest. So I parked my car and set off into the wilderness.

This seemed more to me like a game trail than a well-used path, and it appeared to be heading south, parallel to the hillside instead of downwards to the hidden river. So I decided to make my own path. The next kilometer or so was a crazy bushwhack down through a forest choked by fallen trees and a tangle of bushes. Just to be sure that I could return if I needed, I made a very thorough job of blazing the trail, using half a reel of red tape. Some future explorer will not thank me for the trail I blazed, as it wandered haphazardly down the mountainside.

Eventually I could hear the sound of a river below, and soon reached the edge of the shallow Bow River. Here a vague path followed the riverbank, and using common sense I turned left to follow the river as it wandered in a generally southerly direction through the forest. It was a typically lonely Canadian scene, which in a few weeks will be snow-covered and silent.

After about a kilometer I was relieved to come upon the correct trail leading down from the highway. I had started too far north along the road. A small sign pointed to the Hector Lake campsite, which lay across the river, on the other side of a small forested hill. I continued to head in a southwesterly direction on vague trails, across a wide valley floor consisting of dry riverbeds and a more open forest. In the distance I could now make out the edge of a large lake. A short time later I was standing on the edge of Hector Lake. There is something weird about the scale in this wilderness. What might typically be a kilometer seems about two or three times further down here. I was perhaps only two kilometres from the start of the hike here, but it felt very much further from civilization.

Hector Lake would be as popular as Bow Lake or even Lake Louise if it was more accessible. But I would suspect only a handful of people venture down here in a typical year. The shoreline is made up of either gravel or mud, with a few tree trunks lying on the edge, but generally very open. The glacial blue waters are ringed by the magnificent mountains of the Continental Divide, snow covered, and with glaciers in the high valleys. A biting, cold breeze blew across the lake, which measures about 5.3 km long and 1.2 km across. Soon it will be frozen over. I felt slightly uneasy standing in such a remote place, especially when I discovered an empty beer can on the beach. But then things looked up when I discovered a full can of beer a little further along the beach.

I followed the edge of the lake in an easterly direction, seeking the trail and the river crossing. My first plan had been to cross over the river and then follow the south shoreline to a smaller mountain lake called Margaret Lake – I had been intrigued by the name, and the setting, of this lake. But the southern shoreline was already in shade, and this looked to be much more of an adventure than I was equipped for today. When I finally reached the exit to the lake, across boggy ground, it was clear that the volume and depth of water flowing out of the lake were too much for a simple crossing. And there must have been huge floods in past years which made the whole area a tangled mess of tree trunks and streambeds and watery inlets. So I was happy enough to turn north and pick my way along a dry stream back to the trail junction.

Relieved not to have to retrace my steps up the hillside which I had so carefully blazed, I turned instead onto a good trail. This led me safely back up to the Icefields Parkway, and so back northwards up the road to my car. It was a cool day, perhaps just a few degrees above zero, but it was sunny and the mountain scenery was the best. In fact, I decided to take a short drive northwards beyond the campsite to enjoy the views around Bow Lake. In summer this is a very popular tourist spot, with views of the Bow Glacier. Today one tourist coach was leaving, and I was then alone beside the magnificent, but wintry lake. The sun was shining across the rippling waters, which must surely be frozen over in a few weeks from now.

Back at the camp it was a cold evening. Most of the campers had left during the day, and there were only three other people left, including my tenting neighbors. I walked down through the lightly snow-covered trails to the point where Mosquito Creek joins a young Bow River. It’s a great place for some classic Canadian Rocky Mountain snapshots. Getting a good fire going, I stayed warm, but was in bed early. The temperatures continued to drop overnight. My guess is that it was close to minus ten degrees C by dawn. The skies were filled with stars, with Orion and the Plough being prominent. The half-moon was bright in the sky. But it was too cold to hang around, so shortly before dawn, I was up and it didn’t take me long to pack away the tent and jump into the car. It took a bit longer for the heater to make headway on the frosty windscreen. Driving back east I turned onto the quiet Highway 1A and stopped for an impromptu breakfast in the car (a version of a “walk in the car”?).

From here it was a leisurely return to Calgary along roads which were only just starting to get busy with day-trippers out for a last trip to the mountains before the winter snows start to fall.


Statistics
Little Beehive
Sat. 16 October

Total Dist. 9.0 km (hike)
Height Gain 1675 ft.
Max. Elev. 7350 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 19 mins.


Statistics
Hector Lake
Sat. 16 October

Total Dist. 5.0 km (hike)
Height Loss/Gain -/+ 200 ft.
Lake Elev. 5906 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 31 mins.

Above the Lakes of Kananaskis Country

Fri. 8 October: Upper Kananaskis River Viewpoint

I don’t go all the way down to the Kananaskis Lakes often enough. After this Thanksgiving weekend the last of the campsites close down. So this was my last chance this year to spend a couple of days hiking around the heart of Kananaskis Country.

Interlakes campsite stretches along the forested shoreline of the Lower Kananaskis Lake, and as the name suggests, the Upper Lake is just over the hill. This is a fine camping area, and I had plenty of ideal sites to choose from. By the time that dark descended, I had a fire going and was enjoying my usual gourmet dinner - some chunky chicken soup out of a can followed by a marmalade sandwich (more marmalade than bread).

There was a breeze during the night, and I could hear the water lapping along the shoreline just a few yards from my tent.

My plan for Friday was to bike up the short hill to the Upper Lake, then head west above the northern shore to Invincible Creek. From here it would be an unofficial hiking route up to a high viewpoint above the Upper Kananaskis River and Upper Lake.
Not far west of the penstock, where the trail started to climb, I hid my bike in the trees and continued on foot. The north side of the Upper Lake gives fine views across to the Continental Divide across the lake. Today some low lying clouds were trapped in the pass below the Elk Range, and overhead it was a mixture of sun and cloud. The trail crosses several impressive rock slides, and sooner or later there will be another one – hopefully when I’m not on the trail.

A sturdy little footbridge crosses Invincible Creek. Immediately after crossing this bridge I turned right off the main trail and followed the edge of the stream to an abandoned fire road. This road steadily climbed the mountainside, making good hiking, apart from all the deadfall across the trail. But having negotiated Mt. Daer fire road, this was no problem. In the latest version of Gillean Daffern’s guidebook, she suggested that a seniors hiking club was planning to clear the trail. No sign of that yet.

After a kilometer and a bit, the fire road ended and I was facing a murderously steep cutline, which had apparently been created as a firebreak during a previous fire. I just put my head down and kept plodding upwards until the grade finally relented. Here in an overgrown meadow, the guidebook told hikers to find a cairn indicating the start of a trail into the forest. The cairn was just a low pile of stones, and the trail was barely discernable. In fact, I decided to make good use of my red blaze tape. This turned out to be a good decision, as on the return journey I would have been lost a dozen times. This so-called trail, marked by about two bits of old blaze and a few piles of stone, made its way along the mountainside in thick forest, just below the open scree slopes above.

Finally I came to a tiny clearing, at the far end of which a dry streambed rose up the hillside. Following this streambed, I eventually came up onto a high point between the huge mountainside to my right and my destination ridge to the left.

I first climbed up the hillside too early and found myself looking west across a shallow valley to my correct ridge. So I headed back down to the col and then swung south and up the forested ridge to a superb viewpoint. A cairn marked the summit, which was surrounded by the grandest of mountain peaks, many snow covered, and some with glaciers.

I could follow the Upper Kananaskis River valley northwards to distant glaciers and mountain peaks with cloud pouring over them. Directly to my west was 9,646 ft. Mt. Putnick, and my southern horizon was filled by the huge Mt. Lyautey, 9,990ft. Far below me to the east was the Upper Kananaskis Lake. This is one view of the vastly popular lake that not many people will ever get, unless they are prepared to expend quite a bit of energy.

Returning back down to lake level, I was glad of all my new blazing through the upper forest, and I hope other travelers may also thank this unknown hiker for all this red tape.

I stopped for a picnic at my favorite park bench, at the junction with the trail to Point backcountry campsite. This is a good place for a birds eye view of the lake and of the twisting path that leads through the desolate rockfall landscape to the western end of the lake. Returning down the trail I met my first humans, a young couple with their younger children and older parents, all having a grand time except for one child who was running along the trail crying her eyes out. Picking up my bike I was soon back at the campsite.

I relaxed by the edge of the lake for a while. Later, a pink glow spread over the water and in the clouds above the mountains, as the light faded. A few more people had arrived at the campsite during the evening, but it was perhaps only about one third full. Many people had declared camping season over by now, and so it was perhaps only the warm weather which had encouraged this many people out into the mountains this long weekend.

Statistics
Upper Kananaskis River Viewpoint
Fri. 8 October

Total Dist. 12.8 km (hike) + 4.2 km (bike) = 17.0 km
Height Gain 1720 ft.
Max. Elev. 7300 ft.
Time on trail 6 hrs. 11 mins.


Sat. 9 October: Frozen Lake

This lake got its name for a reason. It’s usually only ice-free for about three months each year. Frozen Lake is cradled in the arms of Mt. Fox, held in by a steep headwall. What a find it must have been when some early explorer first stumbled upon it. Looking west to the mountain wall, you would never guess that it hid such a spectacular lake.

The approach to Frozen Lake took me on familiar trails, but ones which I had only previously traveled on skis in winter. I arrived at the Elk Pass trailhead, just down the road from my campsite, soon after sunrise. The first part of the trail rises steeply to the power-line summit, before dropping down into Fox Creek. This lower portion of Fox Creek was wet and muddy, which puzzled me, given the recent dry weather. But then I remembered seeing the cloud from my lookout trail yesterday, and I guess that it might have been raining here under that cloud. Also, it seemed that there had been a lot of truck traffic along this power-line access road, and this had churned up the surface.

But soon I was traveling along the gentle Fox Creek on a drier trail up the winding valley. The ski trail signs have all been removed and I suppose they put them back up again quite soon. Nevertheless I recognized the Blueberry Hill trail junction with its picnic table. Just a few hundred yards further on, I came to the West Elk Pass junction. Leaving my bike behind some trees, I turned right off the main trail, and before long I found myself on the Alberta-British Columbia border.

This is called West Elk Pass, but it is an almost imperceptible high point in a wide, flat valley. An information board and lots of good signposts directed me westwards along a cut-line directly headed for the mountain wall. Almost immediately, the trail down into BC and the Elk Lakes turned off to the left, while I continued straight on. Crossing a broad, damp meadow, the trail made one short, steep climb, and then a longer and steeper ascent, to an old boundary marker post. This dilapidated concrete post, covered by a zinc lining, was erected way back in 1916 by surveyors marking the Alberta-BC border.

From here, the trail rose steeply up the mountainside, before cutting diagonally across the steep forested headwall to the edge of the lake. Under sunny skies, it is probably a dark blue color, but today under a mostly cloudy sky, it was a deep green. The front side of the lake is a pleasant strip of trees, including many larches, now past their best. Steep, bare mountain slopes ring the lake on all other sides. The remains of a glacier sit directly behind the lake.

As I sat above the waters, admiring this grand setting, some mist rose up from the floor of the Elk Valley and drifted into the mountain bowl, before dissipating up the mountainside. The guide book suggests that you can scramble up to a grand viewpoint to the left of the lake, called “Taiga Viewpoint”. I did give some thought to clambering up there, but in the end decided that I would give it a miss. It didn’t look too impossible, but it was a bit more than I felt like doing today. In any event, my perch above the lake was spectacular enough.

I dropped back down the steep slopes and onto the cut-line. It didn’t take me long to return to the trailhead where I recovered my bike. Here I met two elderly couples heading for Frozen Lake. “Oh, WE should have brought our bikes, too”, exclaimed one of their party. And so they should. For my return journey back down to the car was an enjoyable coast along Fox Creek, with minimal effort. After the short hill back up to the power-line, it was one frantic breakneck ride back to the car. Halfway down the hill I flew past a group of young people idling up the hillside, one of them clutching what looked like a 12-pack of beer. I had completed my journey just in time to avoid the busy afternoon trails.

Returning to the warm and sunny campsite, I stopped to enjoy the perfect lakeside setting. Packing up, I was soon on my way back home. The journey over the Highwood Pass and down to Longview was leisurely as I was enjoying the clear atmosphere and recognizing all my hiking routes of the past year. It wasn’t as busy as the previous weekend, but judging from the number of parked cars, there were plenty of people out enjoying the long weekend. A sports car roared past me, but I soon caught up with them as they had been stopped by a police car hiding along the Highwood Valley.

I was glad to arrive back in town for a hot shower, and to enjoy the rest of the Thanksgiving Holiday at home.

Statistics
Frozen Lake
Sat. 9 October

Total Dist. 5.0 km (hike) + 9.8 km (bike) = 14.8 km
Height Gain 1620 ft.
Max. Elev. 7170 ft.
Time on trail 3 hrs. 47 mins.

Cameron Lookout revisited (25 years later!)

Sat. 2 October: Mt. Burke - Cameron Lookout

Ironically, now that October had arrived, I was rewarded with one of the best weather days of the year for this steep hike up 8,330ft. Mt. Burke.

It was a quarter century ago, in July 1985, that the author, then 34 years old, first climbed this mountain. On a related note, I remember as a teenager on an early hike in Scotland seeing grizzled old Glaswegians out on the hills and being told that they would walk you off your young feet any day of the week. I thought – well, if I can still go hiking in the hills when I am as old as sixty, then I will feel as if I have accomplished something in life. I only have 8 months to go until that particular milestone and I am pleased to say that I found this hike up Mt. Burke no harder than the first attempt back in 1985.

Anyway, back to today’s story!

Deciding to camp out, I left the city on Friday afternoon, heading south and west into the Highwood. Only a few campsites are still open at this time of year and so I turned south onto the gravel forestry road at Highwood Junction, and was soon at Etherington Creek. The campsite was empty except for two sites, and so I picked the same spot I had stayed in last year, above the tiny creek, which runs around the perimeter of the campsite. As far as I know, not one other person arrived during the evening, and I never even saw the person who ran the campsite. Although it was a clear evening it was quite cold, and so I was glad of a warm fire and then my comfy sleeping bag. I slept well.

The following morning it was still dark at 7.30 a.m. but soon the light started to filter through the trees. It was a short drive down the forestry road to Cataract Creek, the start of my trip today. The campsite at Cataract Creek was closed, so I parked in a large picnic area across the road, and biked up the campsite road and across the Salter Creek bridge.

In earlier days, the trail to Cameron Lookout used to follow a fire road on the south side of the creek. In 1997 there was a devastating flash flood, and it washed away the road. So now the trail wanders eastwards along the north side of Salter Creek. You can actually then stay on the north bank or cross over to the south side. Both paths lead to the same place. I chose the latter. After a few hundred meters I crossed back over to the north side of the almost dry creek, and headed up a side creek into the lower folds of Mt. Burke. This side creek was totally dry, although there were signs of earlier floods.

After a short stroll up this narrow-sided valley I came to the important junction for Cameron Lookout Trail. On my last visit here in 1985, there was a sign pointing to the lookout. Now instead there was a strange combination of cairn and poles and bent tree branches, to point hikers in the right direction.

After a steep scramble up the bank, the trail settled down into a long series of nicely-graded switch-backs up the steep forested slopes. I took my time climbing the path. Reading my diary from my first ascent I see that I apparently raced up the lower slopes, but then paid for it higher up when I started to run out of breath. Being older and wiser I now adopted the slow-but-steady approach. This trail reminded me a lot of the lower section of Sunset Trail in northern Banff Park. On my return down the trail I counted the zig-zags and found that there were 33 of them up to the tree-line – just a few less than on the Sunset Trail.

Eventually I pulled myself up above the trees, my leg muscles starting to ache a bit from the relentless uphill slopes. I could see signs of horse riders having used this trail. It would have been a tricky ascent for a horse. Now on open slopes, the trail continued to zig-zag upwards to the lower ridge. Immediately the views to the west were spectacular. Surprisingly all the snow from August and September had melted and there was no snow at all on the trail, even above 8000 feet.

Once on the lower ridge, the bare, rocky summit came into sight, with the lookout building perched right on the top. To reach it, one has to cross a narrow but safe section of ridge – safe that is unless there is a strong wind blowing. Today there was a light breeze so it was no problem at all. Finally I reached the top, not feeling particularly worn out.

The lookout building is in rough shape and I am surprised it is still standing after all these years. Here a strong westerly wind was blowing, making an eerie howling sound as it passed through the open glass-less windows of the building. One shutter rattled in the wind. The atmosphere was not perfectly clear to the east, but the views all round were fine. The city of Calgary could be seen in the haze to the northeast. Directly below the lookout on the ridge top was a modular building with aeriels, which looked to be a new addition to the summit. It had a remote camera so I gave a friendly wave to the viewers who might have been watching me from a comfy office somewhere in Calgary I suppose.

It was a pleasant return down the mountainside and back into the forest and the thirty three switchbacks down to the valley floor. Near the bottom I met my only other humans, two young couples heading up the trail. They seemed to be making slightly heavy work of it, but they had plenty of daylight left.

Before returning to the car, I biked through the closed Cataract Creek campsite, and into the meadows beside Cataract Creek. This is one of my favorite places to relax, beside the river, under a warm sunshine. To the east I could look across to the high mountainsides of Mt. Burke, and as usual wondered how I had ever managed to make it all the way up there.

Returning to Etherington Creek I quickly packed up my tent and set off back home. Given the perfect weather today, the roads were as busy as I have seen them all year – and about 50% of traffic consisted of motorbikes. It was an ideal day for a bike trip over the Highwood Pass, and there were plenty of people doing it.

Once again I dropped into the Turner Valley store to do my part in making them profitable! And so home.


Statistics
Mt. Burke - Cameron Lookout
Sat. 2 October

Total Dist. 16.0 km (hike) + 3.0 km (bike) = 19.0 km
Height Gain 2885 ft.
Max. Elev. 8330 ft.
Time on trail 5 hrs. 25 mins.