Elbow Valley Ski Trails

Sun. 30 May: Elbow Valley Ski Trails


Back into winter – so why not do some ski trails?

After three days of snow, the forecast for today was discouraging. But I wanted to get out for a walk, so again chose the Elbow-Bragg Creek area being the nearest to home.

And today, apart from digging out my long underwear again, I also decided to try out my new Lowa hiking boots. It would certainly be wet underfoot – a good trial for the boots. My old Asolo boots bought in Keswick, England, are no longer remotely waterproof, sadly.

The drive west along 22X was quite pretty in a wet, wintery way – snow on higher ground and green grass beside the road made for an attractive contrast. The further west I drove, the more snow there was. In fact, the Elbow Valley was so pretty with the snow on the trees that I drove all the way to the very end of the road, past the footbridge over the Little Elbow river, up to the campsite. Here, the snow was over 6 inches deep, and in contrast to the long weekend a few days ago, there looked to be very few, if any, campers – for good reason.

A faint watery sun could be seen behind the cloud, and the trees had a thick covering of snow on them. This looked more like a January day, not two days short of June, but at least it did not feel particularly cold – perhaps just above freezing point. I also stopped at Forgetmenot Pond, to admire the wintery scenery around the lake.

Now my hiking options today were severely limited, not only due to all the recent snow, but also by a mad bear roaming the hillsides somewhere on the north side of the valley. As a result, all the trails below Moose Mountain were cordoned off. The notices warned of “an extremely dangerous bear in the area”, and “attempts to capture it are in progress”, with bold yellow signs warning hikers to “KEEP OUT”. Good enough for me!

So I decided to explore the intriguing trails which link the Elbow Valley with Bragg Creek. These are cross-country ski trails, and – as I discovered last week – muddy at this time of year. But today they were covered in two to six inches of new snow, covering most of the muddy areas. The trail starts at Allen Bill Pond (which I always think should be Bill Allen Pond – but it isn’t). The first part of the trail follows the fast-moving Elbow River as it flows under the large concrete road bridge.

This trail is the route to a popular family hike up Fullerton Ridge – C and I did this together in the early 1990’s. One pair of footprints in the snow showed me that someone was ahead of me, but as expected, the prints turned left onto the Fullerton loop, and from here onwards, I was on my own. I would follow the so-called Elbow Valley ski trail due north for about 6 km, then return on the more winding Iron Springs ski trail, arriving back at the starting point.

This turned out to be a fascinating stroll into Narnia. The snow cover was generally about six inches deep, with very wet, sticky snow. Later in the walk I tried on my MICROspikes for added traction, but the snow and mud would almost instantly stick to the spikes, so I had to give them up. Anyway, my new boots had great traction so I did not slip at all. As I walked along through the snow, I would hear sudden “flump-flump” sounds all around me as clumps of snow fell off the tall tree branches and landed all around me on the trail. Luckily I avoided a direct hit.

The trail runs entirely in the trees, on a wide cutting in the forest, generally arrow-straight, but with some curves and bends, and a couple of steep hills. There were some hoof prints of deer, but no sign of any paw prints of mad bears! Finally, near the northern end of my route, I saw some fresh footprints, from some hikers who had started from the Bragg Creek end but had not got very far. I turned east onto Sundog trail – which I had ski’d last year – and soon I turned south onto the wide Iron Springs trail. The snow-covered road climbed gradually through the trees, to a high point, where there is a gate. Here the trees were under a heavy coating of snow. Some of these trees looked eerily alive, as if beckoning me on into their secret world.

A very light snow-rain mix started to fall, so I put on my rain jacket and pants, but it stopped a little later on, although by now it was uniformly cloudy.

Now the wide, snowy trail dropped down a gradual hill, in a southerly direction. The two legs of my hike today run very roughly parallel to each other, first on opposite sides of a small valley, then wider apart as they climb the gentle hillsides at the northern end of the trails. After a few kilometers, the Iron Springs trail turns eastwards, above a lake – which was completely hidden under the snow - to a wide junction at the bottom of a hill. It was just before I reached this junction that I spotted the fresh prints of a smallish bear and possibly a cub, weaving back and forth across the path, down into the valley then up again. I made noise, but never saw them. I then picked up the trail of a person and their dog, which was a little mysterious, as they had not followed the route either from Allen Bill or Bragg Creek, but had come into the trail system from an unmarked trail from the east, following Iron Springs creek.

As I was standing in an open section of trail, admiring the wintery scene all round, my cellphone rang. It was C telling me that at that exact moment, she was sitting on a beach at Ocean City, New Jersey, on a hot sunny day, and had just been swimming in the Atlantic Ocean!! What a contrast.

Soon I was safely back on the main trail again, and made my way down the snowy, muddy path to the car. At the Fullerton Loop junction I picked up the trail of countless boots, but mine were the only footprints on the ski trails. By the time I reached the car, a number of families were arriving, for a short afternoon stroll with their dogs.

Now it really is time for Spring to make an appearance – and to stay around! As for my new boots, despite tramping through snow for over three hours, my feet were totally dry, and the boots fitted perfectly. I'm keen to try them out on more demanding routes, to those lookouts which have been hidden in the clouds and the snow for the past couple of weeks.



Statistics
Elbow Valley Ski Trails
Sun. 30 May

Total Dist. 12.2 km (hike)
Height Gain 695 ft.
Max. Elev. 5049 ft.
Time on trail 3 hr. 32 mins.

That's Alberta!!

Thurs. 27 May: That’s Alberta!!

Environment Canada's Official Weather Warnings
· Public Warnings
· Marine Warnings
· Special Weather Statements

Warnings
City of Calgary4:43 PM MDT Thursday 27 May 2010Snowfall warning for City of Calgary continued10 to 20 centimetres of snow overnight into Friday morning.A disturbance moving into Northern Montana continues to spread significant amounts of moisture across Southern Alberta. At the same time moderate northeasterly flow in the low levels is gradually injecting cooler air into the system. As a result rainfall will change to snow in most areas early this evening if it hasn't already done so. Snowfall amounts as high as 20 cm are possible especially in the foothills and over higher terrain. Due to warm ground temperatures much of the snow will initially melt however most areas can still expect to see 10 cm of snow on the ground by Friday morning.

Bragg Creek Trails: Telephone Loop

Mon. 24 May: Telephone Loop

No hanging about the house on the long weekend, L. told me! So it was another early start today. Not wanting to risk the major highways on Holiday Monday, I decided that today’s trip must be somewhere in the Bragg Creek or Elbow Valley area – a short drive west of Calgary. Bragg Creek won the contest. A few kilometers west of the village are some excellent cross-country ski trails – when the snow is good. At this time of year, they are popular with bikers, hikers and equestrians. I chose the longest of the loops, romantically called Telephone Loop.

First car at the car park, I was quickly on the trail, on a cool but cloudless morning. The good thing about these trails is that they wind lazily around the wooded hillsides with only a few sudden drops and climbs mostly at creeks and streams. And they are well sign-posted. My particular trail was nicely regaled with signs on trees and on wooden stands, dotted around the 16 km route, with all the necessary warnings for a safe journey, starting with “Do you really know what you are letting yourself in for?” (or similar words) - below which someone had scribbled: "Bring it on!!" - followed by several “Caution Ice Flow” signs, and so on.

The trail has four sides to its roughly rectangular shape, each having its own character. The first long eastern leg is a delightful stroll climbing up around a hillside with mostly deciduous trees, shining with that bright green that you only get in early Spring. Occasional glimpses of valleys and hillsides to the east, perhaps not unlike hikes I have done in New Brunswick or North Carolina.

The short northern leg was apparently once a pretty trail, remote and narrow. But in the early 1990’s the logging companies bulldozed a wide road along its path, creating a fairly unattractive route and making a lot of skiers very upset! The long third leg runs almost entirely through coniferous forest, often wet and boggy, or muddy, under foot, but easy enough to hike. One might easily go astray along here, except for a very helpful sign sitting in the middle of the trail advising one to “turn right here”.

At the bottom of this long third leg, one meets the Moose Loop ski trail, and finally there are views west over a wide open meadow to snow-capped Moose Mountain in the background.

Breaking out of the trees, the trail drops down to Bragg creek on a wide well-engineered grassy road, which looked as if it had been designed for major traffic. Perhaps at one time there were thoughts of building a road northwest past the shooting range to the Powderface Trail road and on into Kananaskis Country. It would have made sense. Luckily for the hiker and skier, it was never built, keeping this area a quiet backwater.

The final leg crosses Bragg creek on a hidden bridge, then onto the ski trails which wander through the woods on the other side of the valley. Perfect mountain biking and equestrian trails – and I met a couple of bikers and one person on horseback. Returning to the car park, I could see a growing number of cars and people arriving to enjoy the day – it was not yet noon. Three huge horse-trailers stood empty, their occupants already out on the trails.

The mountain trails can quickly become unhikeable, due to fallen trees. Every trail I have hiked along has had fallen tree trunks across their path. On some routes, nobody comes along with a chainsaw to clear the trees, so people either make little detours around the fallen trunks, or for the lesser used trails, the path disappears altogether.

The Telephone Loop still had several patches of snow in some of the shaded creeks. But over the past week, the Front Ranges had noticeably lost much of their snow cover, and finally Spring seemed to have tightened her grip.

Returning through Bragg Creek, I could see that the long weekend traffic was building up. I hurried home. Later in the day, there were reports of a 30 km traffic tail-back on the Trans-Canada Highway west of Banff!!


Statistics
Telephone Loop
Mon. 24 May

Total Dist. 16.5 km (hike)
Height Gain 520 ft.
Max. Elev. 5180 ft.
Time on trail 3 hr. 53 mins.

Junction Creek - across the Sheep River

Fri. 21 May: Junction Creek


This trip relied entirely upon my being able to cross the Sheep River – which I was able to do – just!

Strong southerly winds were blowing the clouds away, leaving a clear sky as I traveled down to Turner Valley. For the first time it all looked very spring-like: cattle with their young calves, green grass, leaves finally appearing on the trees – and a clear light that made the foothills of Alberta look their best.

The trail to Junction Creek starts from the loop at the very western end of the Sheep River road, past Bluerock campsite. A short walk down the slopes brought me to the Sheep River, which I had to cross. I had been wondering how easy this might be. A few weeks ago I had made a fairly easy crossing, further east, on my way to Teskey Road. But since then, the spring snowmelt had started, and today the river was a different proposition. The current was strong, and it looked to be a couple of feet deep in the middle. I hesitated, walking a few yards upstream to see if there was an easier route across the swirling waters. There wasn’t.

So I rolled up my trousers, took off my socks, donned my sturdy sandals, and ventured carefully out into the flow, a strong walking stick in each hand to provide balance. Surprisingly, apart from a fierce current in the middle of the river, I made the crossing quite safely, although the water came up above my knees. But this was a dangerous venture. One slip and nothing would have prevented my being washed away downstream – no kidding!

My feet were freezing from this early morning dip! I sat on the opposite bank of the river putting my socks and boots back on, feeling as if I had already achieved something worthwhile today, but aware that I would have to repeat this exercise later in the day – and aware that rivers can rise rapidly in a few hours. With those happy thoughts, I clambered up the bank onto a wide trail, once a logging road, and started down the long, straight Junction Creek.

The first few kilometers were a gentle walk along this nice trail, mostly in the trees, with a few glimpses of tall ridges and peaks on both sides of the valley, poking up above the trees. Junction creek heads in a southerly direction into the heart of the mountains, with no easy escape. My plan was to go about two-thirds of the way along the valley to a set of waterfalls which according to the guide book might be spectacular in spring run-off.

The trail was littered with fallen trees, some quite large, which had over the years simply been allowed to sit where they had fallen. Hikers and equestrians had made detours around the obstacles. These well-worn detours were an indication of the popularity of this trail. Not surprisingly I had the entire valley to myself today!

After about three and a half kilometers I reached the site of a saw-mill – the orange sawdust still covering the trail after many, many decades.

Crossing a side creek (no sign of a side trail up to Junction Lake), the trail soon came closer to the lively Junction Creek, which was full of interesting little waterfalls and small rapids. There were great views of the mountains and high ridges enclosing this valley.

Several kilometers further – about 7 km from the start- I came to another side creek, and turned up hill, past some campsites in the trees, to my destination: a pretty little waterfall, dropping to a small pool in three stages. I would not call it spectacular or dramatic, but it was certainly worth a visit. It would not have been out of place in Derbyshire or Devonshire, where of course there would have been crowds of tourists and an ice cream van. Here I had it to myself.
Returning to the trail, I continued up a hillside. A well-disguised, but important trail, headed off to the right up the forested hillside. This is the route up over a high pass and down to Picklejar Lakes. Not an early season route. Then my trail dropped down to the Junction Creek. Here is what the guidebook author describes as “the greatest swim hole this side of the Pacific Ocean”. Overstated I think. Nevertheless it was a nice place to stop for a picnic and enjoy the mountain scenery.

If I had wanted to continue up to the head of the valley, I would cross the creek here, and on up the increasingly steep and narrow trail. But there was already snow and ice on the path, and I felt that this was a perfect destination.

So I turned around and made my way back down the trail. I had spotted some grand mountain peaks at the far end of the valley. These were part of the Dogtooth Mountains, which can be seen from an entirely different angle from my favourite destination – Flat (Trap) Creek.

Strolling back down the trail, I stopped to admire the creek as it tumbled along, below the long, high ridge of Junction Mountain, with its strange rock formation on the ridge top.

The day had been cold, and windy. The wind funneled straight down the valley, so at least on the return journey it was at my back. Although it was a cloudless sunny day, it took a long while for it to warm up.

And so at last I was back at the Sheep River, and relieved to find that the water levels had not risen three feet in the past half-day! Nevertheless, on the return crossing I decided to keep my boots on – as it was the end of my hike – and also to put on my versatile MICROspikes for added traction. I was glad that I did, for the current seemed much stronger than before, and I felt in imminent danger of being torn from my foothold and washed away downstream. It was quite an effort to move one leg forward at a time across the flow. But I made it – and for good measure, then took out my camera and got back into the freezing water, where the current was less strong, to take a couple of photos from part mid-stream!

I climbed up the riverbank and found a well-placed picnic area in the trees, protected from the strong wind, but in a now warm sunshine. I changed out of my soaking footwear and relaxed for a few minutes before returning to the car.

Out of curiosity I took a drive around the Bluerock campsite, as everything seemed so quiet and deserted on the road. I found that, this being the start of the May long weekend, every site had been taken. This Friday noontime peace would soon turn into evening bedlam in a few hours as absent campers streamed back into the site after work ended in the city later that afternoon.

The drive back down the Sheep River valley was a delight, with the new spring colors shining brightly in the sunshine. Spring really had arrived – finally. And I had avoided becoming an early season casualty of reckless river crossings!!


Statistics
Junction Creek
Fri. 21 May

Total Dist. 16 km (hike)
Height Gain 800 ft.
Max. Elev. 6100 ft.
Time on trail 4 hr. 28 mins.

Yoho Adventures

Fri. 14 May: Mt. Hunter Lookout (lower)
Yoho – ho??

I certainly didn’t have a bottle of rum on this trip, although if the two grizzlies had come much closer, I might have needed it!

This trip took me to the wonderful Yoho National Park, which lies to the west side of Banff National Park, just on the BC side of the Alberta-BC border. The Trans-Canada Highway (TCH) runs through the middle of the Park, but there are some superb hiking trails and remote mountain destinations, including a few locations of abandoned fire lookouts.

Although I did not achieve all my goals on this trip, it was still another wonderful adventure in the Canadian Rockies, which this time included gigantic waterfalls, frozen lakes, and spectacular scenery – to say nothing of the wildlife, and the trains!

I had to be in the office first thing in the morning, so was not on the road until almost 10 a.m., but the traffic was not too busy, and I negotiated the roadworks between Castle Junction and the Icefields Parkway at a slow speed, but in light traffic. Dropping down into BC, down the “big hill” (as this section of the Canadian Pacific railway line was called, before the spiral tunnels were built), and just before reaching the railway village of Field, I turned right onto the Yoho Valley road. Here were two campsites. The nicer site, Kicking Horse, was not yet open, but the winter campground of Monarch, next door, was open, and almost empty. So I pitched my tent in the trees, under a gigantic cliff, just before a short rain shower swept through the valley. I then proceeded west on the TCH.

My first destination was Mt. Hunter Lookout. The trailhead lies on the TCH, a few kilometers east of the Park boundary. Here the Wapta Falls road branches off to the left, and it was here that I parked the car. But to reach the Mt. Hunter trail, one has to negotiate a crossing of the highway, which could be tricky in the busy summer months. A large proportion of the traffic consists of huge semi-trailers, racing at top speed round a bend as you try to pick the right time to scuttle across the road and down the bank on the other side.

This narrow hiking trail soon comes to the next point of excitement – a crossing of the CPR line. Hoping for a train, I was out of luck. The trail winds its way up the forested hillside onto a forested ridge (lots of trees in BC), which climbs at a reasonable angle towards a cliff, on top of which sits the lookout tower.

Someone had been up this trail very recently with a chainsaw, clearing away several quite large trees which had fallen across the trail over the past winter. This is a always a good sign to the hiker that one is on a solid route! Soon I had some nice views of the highway running through the valley below me, and tall peaks all round. The trail winds around the back of the cliff, then after a steep section, reaches a junction. One could continue up the ridge for another 1000 vertical feet or so to the site of the upper lookout, now removed. But I had decided that the lower lookout would be sufficient today, given the late start and slightly unsettled weather. Turning left at the junction, I soon reached the cliff top. Here stood a perfectly good fire lookout tower on a tall steel structure, with a little wooden cabin sitting below it, close to the edge of the cliff.

This cabin was not locked. Inside it was empty, but in perfect condition. There was a table and bench in the right-hand corner, and a small cupboard in the far corner, with small candles and matches for emergency use. The floor was neatly swept, with a broom resting in the corner. This would be a more than adequate shelter for anyone stuck up here in a storm.

A couple of odd reflector devices shared the cliff-top with the cabin.

Views were of course excellent, and would be even better from the top of the tower. I might have shinned up the ladder, but it would have involved some climbing up the steelwork to reach the ladder cage. Given the cloud build-up, I thought there was a chance of a thundershower, so I resisted the temptation and stayed on the ground! This lookout has been unused since 1976, a full 34 years ago, so its state of repair was a surprise to me.

A quick return down the mostly dry trail, with more sunshine coming out. I soon reached the railway line again, and (of course!) settled down to wait for a train. When it came, it was sudden. The road and rail take a sharp bend just to the east of here, so there was little warning of the approaching train, before it burst into view, blowing its horn to warn me to stand back.

I exchanged a friendly wave with the engineer, while trying (impossibly of course) to take still and video pictures at the same time with my little camera. The train took what seemed like several minutes to rattle past, at quite a rate, being downhill on it way westwards.

Now back at the car, I immediately proceeded down the Wapta Falls road to my next hike.



Fri. 14 May: Wapta Falls
For the unaware, do not confuse Wapta Falls and Wapta Lake. They are a good 40+ kilometers apart and not related - except by being linked by the Kickinghorse River.

The Wapta Falls road takes you about 2 km through the trees to a parking area. From hereon, it is another pleasant 2 km stroll to a vantage point above the Falls. The first part of the trail is on a nice flat pathway, along a clearing which was at one time intended to be a continuation of the driving road.

After a while, the trail becomes rougher as it contours up a slight hillside and soon afterwards arrives at a nice viewpoint directly above the Falls.

Apparently in times of high water, the falls can be heard a long way off. Even today, it was quite noisy from up here. A chain link fence had been erected to stop silly tourists from getting too close to the edge and slipping away to an awful end. From here, the falls certainly looked spectacular, about 100 ft high and quite wide, with the river smooth and quiet above the falls, and a small rock formation immediately below the falls.

But to really appreciate Wapta Falls, one has to walk right down to the river level below the falls. This is easily accomplished thanks to the nice zig-zag path through the wet forest, leading down to the shoreline. Now it became impressive. Spray was flying and the waters roared over the lip of the falls, with mountains high above.

I put on my rain jacket and carefully clambered up the wet, slippery shaly rock pile, until I was directly facing the waters as they thundered down into a turbulent pool. This would not be a good place for a timid person to stand. I carefully made my way down off the slippery slopes, and walked a little further downstream to take some more pictures as the sun came out.

A father and son walked across my field of view at the perfect time to give some foreground scale to my photo. They were on an evening fishing trip to the pools below the waterfall.

Wapta Falls is certainly a grand sight. They would be even more spectacular when the river was in full spate – worth a return trip one day.

I had met one hiker on his way up Mt. Hunter, and a small handful of people along the Wapta Falls trail, which on a summer weekend would be a busy place, I feel sure. But today was a good choice for the seeker of solitude. It took no time at all to get back to the car. I turned east onto the Trans-Canada Highway (TCH) and retraced my route back to my campsite just east of Field.
On the way, I carried out a recce for a future trip to Tocher Lookout. Turning left just before Field, I followed the Emerald Lake road for a short distance to the Natural Bridge parking area. This is a popular tourist spot, where one can walk across a short bridge for good views of the river eating its way through the rock, causing a “natural bridge” of rock. Here is the start of a long forestry/lookout road bike and hike to Tocher Peak, which I plan to do later this year. It looks like a long but do-able single day trip.

A quick drive into Field – after the train finally cleared the crossing – where everything was closed! I then drove a little way up the Yoho Valley road, to a spiral tunnel viewpoint, before turning around at the winter gate – beyond this point is avalanche country.

The evening turned out to be quite an experience. I was using my new binoculars – an awesome present from L – taking a look up at the railway tunnels across the valley from the campsite, when I spotted a very large grizzly bear on the open slopes just below the railway line. I saw a couple of campers (turned out they were German tourists) also with binoculars, and so pointed out the bear to them, which they were thrilled to see. But then a second large grizzly joined the first one, and we watched in fascination as they both ambled down the steep scree slopes towards the TCH, full of speeding traffic, just a few hundred yards from where we were standing. After reaching the underside of the highway bridge, instead of coming into the campsite, they turned around and ambled off towards Field. They were both large, powerful bears, but looking very much like they were on a casual evening stroll, and not interested in eating any tourists – although a couple of campers got a little too close, and one of the bears stopped to look at them before turning away. Rather foolhardy!

I was lucky that there only seemed to be one mosquito in the campsite as I had forgotten my spray – from now one they will multiply rapidly. I was glad that I was pretty tired as I might otherwise have had a very disturbed night. As it was, I mostly slept through a combination of traffic whooshing by on the TCH, and trains at maximum power crawling up the “big hill” towards the spiral tunnels and the Alberta border. The echo of engines at full power, pulling incredibly long and heavy trains up the pass was deafening. There seemed to be trains going by in both directions all night. But mostly I slept through it all.

Sat. 15 May: Sherbrooke Lake

Having enjoyed the all-night music of a thousand railway trains grinding up the big hill, I was up and ready for breakfast before 7 a.m. this morning. It was a cloudless, cool morning, and the scenery surrounding my tent was breathtaking: soaring cliffs, snowy jagged mountainsides.

Today I returned eastwards a little way towards the Alberta border. The rather run-down looking West Louise Lodge, beside Wapta Lake, was the starting point for my final hike on this visit to Yoho.

At the back of the hotel, by an old gas station, and half hidden in the trees, is the trailhead for two spectacular Yoho destinations: Sherbrooke Lake and Paget fire lookout, both of which I hoped to reach today.

But fifty yards up the trail I realized this was going to be a tough hike. In fact, if I wanted to get anywhere at all, it would need to be on snow shoes. Even here, there was drifted snow on the trail, and soft enough that it would not reliably take the weight of a boot. As usual, some hiker had been up this trail a few days ago, and had somehow plodded through the drifts, often sinking into the snow. I have no idea how they had the energy to do that. So I strapped on my snowshoes and slowly made my way up the narrow trail.

The sound of the traffic on the Trans-Canada Highway below me gradually faded away as I progressed up the hillside. With the snowshoes, it was still tricky at times, making progress up this narrow, snow covered trail. In places it was quite steep, and even with the ‘shoes, one would often sink down into the softer snow where it had not been packed down.

After a couple of kilometers I reached the important junction where the Paget lookout trail branched off to the right, and the Sherbrooke Lake trail continued up the hillside. Nobody had attempted the Paget trail, as a result of which there was no obvious route to follow. The lookout lay over two kilometers away, up the steep forested hillside, and the hidden trail was somewhere under a covering of soft snow, where even with snow shoes it was hard going.

Learning from my Aylmer lookout experience, I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and after a few hundred yards, turned around and returned to the junction sign. Even the Sherbrooke Lake trail, which I now followed, was snow-covered, but there were signs of previous travelers, and so the snow held my weight better. And the trail was fairly flat, with one section where it climbed up the hillside for a short distance.

The trees started to thin out, and then finally I came up to the shoreline of a magnificent lake – still firmly frozen over, and surrounded by spectacular peaks. I walked out onto the ice and strode up the surface of the lake, following the path made by skiers coming down from the glaciers way off to the north beyond the far end of the lake. This is the route M had taken on an adventure earlier this year, and I was duly impressed with her journey on skis, down off the icefields.

It was a perfect morning, and the scenery was breathtaking. The far end of the lake is dominated by the peak of Mt. Niles, 9,734 ft., beyond which lie the glaciers. I sat by the side of the lake on a handy exposed rock to relax for a while. This was a worthy destination on its own, and I would return later this year to deal with the lookout trail!

The return journey was quicker, but still quite tricky in places, as I sank to my knees a few times, even wearing my ‘shoes. To my amazement, lower down the trail, I met a group of five young people, two guys and three girls, plodding up through the snow wearing a combination of shorts and sneakers. I politely greeted them, knowing that they would certainly be turning back before too much further. How they had even made it the first half kilometer was a bit of a mystery.

Back down at the hotel, I changed into some dry socks and shoes, and was soon on my way back home. I enjoyed a longish stop at the classic railway viewpoint on the scenic highway 1A to snap a long train curving around the edge of the Bow River, below the towering peaks.

There were quite a few tourists and buses and cyclists enjoying the first really warm weekend of the year.

Now who said something about rum earlier?


Statistics
Total for 3 Trips
Fri. 14/Sat. 15 May
Total Dist. 18.8 km
Height Gain 2079 ft.
Max. Elev. 5919 ft.
Time on Trail 6 hr. 26 mins.

Blackstone and Baldy Lookouts

Fri. 7 May: Blackstone Lookout

One long active day! A very early start from Calgary put me in Rocky Mountain House before 7 a.m. and in Nordegg by 8 o’clock. I filled up with gas at the general store in this ramshackle collection of buildings that makes up the village of Nordegg.

The young bearded guy at the store told me that the Forestry Trunk Road was in good shape, after the recent snow. So I headed west out onto the main Highway 11, then north onto the Forestry Road.

Damp and muddy on the edges, but firm in the middle, this road climbed over a low pass, then through gently rolling forests. About 40 km up the road I came to a tiny campsite at Brown Creek. This is where my hike would start. But where was the fire road gate? I drove up and down the Forestry road a couple of times before figuring out that the fire access road had been swallowed up by the Suncor gas well road.

A slightly uninteresting wide, muddy road leaves the Forestry Road about 600 m north of the campsite, climbing up the hillsides until at a junction, the old fire road reappears, with its locked gate.

A gentle walk up through the trees, on a trail which by now was generally snow-covered, led me fairly quickly up the side of a forested ridge and onto the top of the hill. Here sits Blackstone fire lookout. I stood at the gate for quite a while, hoping that someone might allow me up to the lookout itself. Just as I was about to give up and turn around, a friendly English voice called out that I should “come on through!”, and I walked up the road to shake hands with Hazel the Lookout.

In her early 50’s, but looking younger than that, and wearing glasses, Hazel gave me a friendly greeting. “I never get any visitors up here”, she told me – apart from an occasional quad driven by local gas well workers who would proudly show her which were their wells! Also recently several forestry vehicles had been up the hill to do some tree and brush clearing around the lookout. She said the hill was full of vehicles for a day!

I ended up spending well over an hour chatting away. And why not - she goes for weeks on end without seeing anyone at all. She told me she had arrived up there in late April.

She led me up the short ladder from her living area directly up into the observation cupola, with its grand all-round views.

Here she showed me some of the tools of the lookout’s trade; the circular map and telescope in the centre of this tiny 10ft by 10 ft space; the points of the compass marked on the walls above the windows. One might think that NW should be N, but the mountains run in a SE to NW direction, so a northern view actually looks out onto the rolling foothills.

A fold-down map shows the circular field of view of her lookout and that of her neighbours, Lovett to the NW, Baldy to the S, and Aurora to the E. The map is divided into numbered squares, and then a smaller plastic template is used to divide each of these larger squares into tiny grids. This is how the lookout identifies which GPS zone a fire is in. Accurately locating a fire is apparently a very tricky job, which is why lookouts work in groups of three, for triangulation purposes. She reckoned that her husband was one of the best fire locators, largely due to his navigation training – having been a ship’s captain before taking to the life of a fire lookout. Quite a contrast in occupations!

But as Hazel told me, modern technology hasn’t yet caught up with the lookout system, and much of the fire observation is done with pins and string! There were dozens of little pins stuck into the map, each pin representing a gas flare. This whole area is covered by gas wells, all connected by underground pipelines. So at night, Hazel sees a world full of bright lights – but they are flares not houses.

We identified the locations of a half dozen other lookouts in view from Blackstone, some as far away as 65 km. To the west, the snowy mountains formed a wall, with Blackstone Gap being one way through it, and Chungo Mountain prominent – there is apparently an abandoned lookout building on Chungo, a very remote location.

Hazel’s husband is the lookout at Baseline, just out of sight far to the south. One could make out static voices on her radio, as messages were passed from one tower to another, and with base in Rocky Mountain House. The conversation told of an attempt today to place three women observers onto their remote peaks by helicopter – I later learned that they were successful (Limestone, Cline and Falls). Her neighbour, 40 km to the east at Aurora, a young woman, called her to say she was climbing up into her lookout tower – a hundred foot climb up an exterior ladder. Hazel made a note in her log.

Hazel is a very pragmatic person, and told me that she has no problems welcoming hikers up to the lookout. Why, she told me, would someone hike all the way up to a remote fire lookout with any evil intentions. And of course in my view she is exactly right. And she herself, as she told me, is a keen hiker.

There is a fairly strict hierarchy of lookout observers based on seniority. Lookouts generally spend about five months on duty but this can vary depending on conditions (fire hazards and so on).

Eventually I decided to say goodbye. So after she took a photo of me by the lookout, I was off down the trail at a good pace. In no time I was back at the car having seen no other person, or even any animals, on this trip.

A very easy drive back down the Forestry Road, meeting only one other vehicle, and I was soon setting up camp in an empty Upper Shunda Creek campsite. Well, empty apart from a very pleasant couple, Linda and Gordon Latter, who looked after the site from their trailer home. And I mean “looked after” - despite Gordon having an artificial leg. Linda apparently places hanging plants around the campsite in summer, and even now has little pots of artificial flowers in some sites. Altogether a very well-loved and comfortable, yet small, campsite. I was the only other person staying there as far as I could see. However, Linda said that it gets over-run in the summer.



Fri. 7 May (continued): Baldy Lookout

Having set up camp at Upper Shunda by 2 p.m., I was still up for more hiking – perhaps not realizing what I was letting myself in for. This next planned hike was Baldy Mountain (also called Shunda Mountain), which rises steeply above the campsite.

A rough road – the fire lookout access road - runs up through the trees at an ever-increasing angle, up a valley, with the mountain sloping steeply up to the left of the road. Across to the right is equally impressive Coliseum Mountain, once the site of the fire lookout before it was moved across to Shunda/Baldy. Very soon I ran into snow, and perhaps rather recklessly continued to drive up the hill, following the tracks of a previous vehicle. After a little over 5 km, my better judgment reasserted itself and I carefully turned the car around, making sure that the snow was not hiding a deep ditch!

Almost immediately a truck followed by two quads came racing up the road, and with a cheery grin, the drivers kept on going round the corner and up the hill. Here at the start of my hike, there was already 6 inches of snow on the road, so I put on my MIRCOspikes, for the second time today, as they were equally handy on the slippery snow and mud of Blackstone trail. I also carried my snowshoes on this trip, and within a kilometer, when I left the final quad tracks behind, I put on the ‘shoes and wore them the rest of the way up and back down. I had by that time met the guys coming back down the trail, they having only made it a few hundred yards further than my own stopping place.

After a steep kilometer or so, I passed the open fire gate, which is the official start to this hike according to my guidebook. Then it got even steeper.

This was a gruelling trip, perhaps one of the toughest I had done for a long while. Part of that might be that this was my second trip of a long day, but the main problem was the increasingly deep snow cover. The day before, a couple of people had hiked down this trail from the top, their footprints visible all the way up. But nobody had tried going up the relentlessly steep road. Without snowshoes it would have been impossible. Luckily the snow was generally firm enough to avoid my sinking in, as its depth exceeded 2 or 3 feet. But there were some places where I did sink in a little, and this made it very hard work.

I kept going, round the switchbacks, slowly making my way, and mentally prepared to take as long as I needed – given the long hours of daylight. Finally I came out of the trees and ahead was another hillside! This was a bare, flat hill, on top of which stood several tall communication towers, and one lonely lookout building.

Here the snow had drifted across the road, making the going a little tricky. But eventually I rounded the hill, and up onto the flat top. Beyond the antenna towers the lookout building stood all alone, raised above the hilltop on sturdy steel piles.

A friendly wave from the lookout told me I was welcome. So I walked the final few yards to be greeted by the well-known lookout Joe, known locally as Grandpa Joe, whose name was familiar to me from my chat to Sharon at Bluehill Lookout a few weeks ago. He could tell I was somewhat worn out, and very kindly said that I had better come in and relax for a while.

He sat me down in his comfy armchair and proceeded to provide me with a wonderful slide show on his large computer screen. These were pictures he had taken up on Baldy but also elsewhere around Western Canada. Some fabulous sunrises, and lots of photos of his grandchildren, other family members, and visitors to the lookout – who apparently number from 1700 to 2000 in a typical year – including many who come up every year and now bring their kids. In summer he can drive his car all the way up the steep road.

Some of his photos told the story of a large truck, carrying sections of communication tower, which rolled back down the hill and flipped over completely upside down. It took a large caterpillar tractor (Cat) to drag it off the hill. Joe had told them they needed a double axel but they figured “what did he know” and found out the hard way that he was right. A large cement truck even made it up the hill, pulled by a Cat. These communications towers are huge structures, and needed deep foundations. They belong to the cell-phone companies I think, and are major relay stations.

The lookout itself is only four years old, and has some nice wooden decking and stairs, prefabricated in Rocky Mountain House or Nordegg and brought up the hill in sections. The original lookout was much closer to the tall masts. Joe took me up to the spacious 10 ft by 10 ft cupola above the living area, accessed by an outside staircase. The views from here were breathtaking, especially westwards into the heart of the Rockies, with Abraham Lake clearly visible. Shunda (Baldy) lookout is apparently the highest lookout in Canada which has a weather station. There are other higher lookouts but too high apparently to be of use for weather station purposes.

Joe, before he became a lookout 19 years ago, used to be a cowboy living in central southern BC. When I told him I had a GPS for a little additional peace of mind, he told me he never worried about getting lost, and the secret was never to panic. There was always a road or a river which would lead to safety. He told me he has a pet fox which is as friendly as a dog! His slide show included some nice pictures of the fox at his door.

His nice warm cabin soon revived me, and so after we had visited the cupola, and he had taken a photo of me up there, I started back down the hill. What awesome people these lookouts are. Gracious hosts but hard-working and skilled protectors of our environment. Thank you Joe and Hazel.

The return journey was an entirely easier exercise. In fact, it was an enjoyable trip striding down the steep snowy trail with full confidence in the traction provided by my snowshoes.

Once back at the car, I carefully navigated the slippery road back down to the campsite. By then it was close to 7 p.m.

I started a good fire, and made myself a bowl of chunky chicken noodle soup which was a bit light on the chicken.

This was a very quiet campsite, set in the trees. I saw my first mosquito of the season but it was a brave and probably short-lived insect given the cold temperatures. The skies had been gradually clearing this evening, and with that, the already cool temperatures were dropping rapidly. I crawled gratefully into my sleeping bag, tucked three warm blankets around me, and fell asleep in no time at all.



Statistics
Total for both hikes
Fri. 7 May

Total Dist. 18.2 km
Height Gain 2400 ft.
Max. Elev. 6831 ft.
Time on Trail 6 hr. 51 mins.
(incl. 2 hrs.4 min. at tops chatting to lookouts!)

A "Trilegy" in Banff National Park

Sun. 2 May: Castle Lookout


What’s the word for three hikes in a day? A trilogy on foot? A tripedy? Anyway, today I headed for Banff National Park, making use of my annual Parks pass, to conquer two more lookouts plus one other trip I had been meaning to do for many years. A watery sun was shining through the clouds as I left Calgary behind me. As I headed west, the clouds started to thin out, and there was hope for a sunny day in the mountains. There had been showers earlier this morning, and the road through Banff Park was still damp. Traffic was very light.

Turning off the TransCanada Highway at Castle Junction, I crossed over the railway line, then turned left on the old 1A highway. Soon I was in the empty Castle Lookout car park, hidden in the trees below Castle Mountain. This mountain dominates the skyline as you drive west from Banff, and here I was directly underneath the towering cliffs.

My hike today would take me 1800 vertical feet up the lower forested slopes to the site of an old fire lookout, directly under these cliffs. Being an old fire access road, the grade was ideal for hiking, but climbed relentlessly up the forested mountainside. The pathway was wide and obviously well used. With a few minor exceptions, the path was dry and snow/ice free. After about 1.5 km I came across the ruins of an old cabin, which apparently dates back to the late 1800’s. It is now sadly just a pile of wood.

Soon the road ended, and the narrow trail started to switch-back up the mountain, up a cliff-band, and across a rocky gulley.

Then up on more switchbacks, across steep, open slopes, until finally the path emerged from some trees onto an open ledge, directly below the vertical mountainsides. Here the lookout building once perched, on the edge of a cliff, with an unobstructed panorama of the Bow River valley below. It surprised me how small this flat space was. The foundation of the building was still there, but there were no other signs of the old lookout, which was abandoned in the 1970’s then accidentally burned down by hikers in 1983.

A pathway ran up through the trees to the bottom of the towering cliffs, where there is apparently a climbing hut. Some light snow was spitting down, and there was a light snow cover on the ground up here.

All around were mountains smothered in layers of cloud, but there was some sunshine too. It seemed as if a shower might be sweeping in from the west, so I did not stay very long.

Soon I was racing down the switchbacks, with the confidence that only MICROspikes can give you that I would not slip and fall over the cliffs below! I met one guy close to the top, who had hoped to catch the sun, but now thought it would snow. In fact it stayed dry all day. It didn’t take me long to get back to the car. Except for that one hiker, I had Castle Mountain to myself this morning. That was the end of my solitude for the day.



Sun. 2 May: Johnston Canyon



A short 6 km drive east along route 1A from Castle Mountain Lookout brought me to one of the tourist hot-spots of the Canadian Rockies: Johnston Canyon. The guidebook warns that the only time to get any solitude here is early in the morning. But it was already late morning, and there were quite a few cars and a mini-bus parked, with a handful of warmly clad tourists heading up the path to the canyon.

As it turned out, this was never overpowering, as it would probably be in the summer. I suspect that today was almost the first day that the path was entirely ice-free and safe for people to walk along.

And what a path! It follows the canyon for over two kilometers, largely clinging to the sides of the canyon on metal walkways connected to the rock walls.

The views of the river below are grand. And there are two awesome waterfalls. Everyone makes it to the lower falls. This is a worthy destination. A hole has been drilled in the rock to allow you to stand directly in front of the falls.

As I continued up the path towards the upper falls, the tourists started to thin out. The upper falls can be viewed from below and from above.

By the time I reached the upper viewing platform, I was on my own! Simply spectacular! The water plunges down into a deep pool far below, with a great thundering roar. There was still plenty of snow and ice clinging to the cliffs all round. Here the interpretive trail ends, and the hikers path carries on up to the Inkpots, some bubbling springs in a meadow a further 3 km up the valley.

I turned back and followed the path all the way down to the start. By now there were several groups of tourists enjoying the views, but never too many to become overwhelming.

It was a perfect day to visit this popular destination. To this point, I had always avoided Johnston Canyon as simply another tourist destination, to be missed because of the crowds, but I am glad to say that I have now “been there and done that”!



Sun. 2 May: Tunnel Mountain Lookout

Now for the final hike of the day. It doesn’t take long to get from Johnston Canyon to Banff, along the scenic forested route 1A, then onto the Trans-Canada Highway. I was lucky enough to be stopped by a goods train at the crossing in Banff. The town was bustling with shoppers as I drove along Wolf St., crossing Banff Avenue, up to Grizzly St. A car park on St. Julien Road is the official starting point for the Tunnel Mountain hike. Elk were happily grazing on the grassy slopes just above the parking area.

The Tunnel Mountain path is one of the oldest in Banff, and popular with the locals. It switchbacks at a gentle angle up the wooded hillside to the site of the old fire lookout on the rounded summit. Today it felt almost Mediterranean, with the wind now warm, and the smell of the pines. There was a steady flow of people enjoying this beautiful trail: someone with a baby stroller, older couples, family parties with young kids and dogs, people jogging up the hill. But well spaced out, so I still felt as if I almost had the place to myself.

Reaching the forested summit ridge, the views of Banff and the Bow Valley were already superb. This hill sits right in the middle of the wide Bow Valley. It was called Tunnel Mountain as the railway builders originally thought they would have to tunnel through it, but then found a way around its flanks. The back side of the mountain is a steep cliff. Here the views of Rundle Mountain, the river, and the golf course spread out below, are fine.

Soon I was on the summit, where a large family party was enjoying a lunch in the warm wind.

Here a lookout tower once stood, long since removed. Apparently back in the 1930’s, Queen Elizabeth (The “Queen Mother”) and King George VI stood on this summit, which seems rather surprising!

The Tunnel Mountain trail has remained one of Banff’s most popular trails – for very good reason.

The smooth rocks are ideal for sitting on and admiring the views directly down into Banff townsite, as well as to the Banff Springs Hotel, standing all alone in the forest.

My return journey was speedy! It took only 22 minutes to whizz back down to the car, an enjoyable fast hike! Plenty of people were still making their way up the hill on this warm, mostly sunny afternoon. A shower was always a possibility, but I stayed dry all day.

More traffic on the road as I returned to Calgary, but beautiful blue sunny skies. The clouds over Calgary showed that there were showers over the city and prairie. I had made the best of this narrow weather window, and had managed to climb over 3000 ft today on my “Trilegy”! YES – that’s the word.

Statistics
Total for all 3 Banff Hikes
Sun. 2 May

Total Dist. 17.6 km (hike)

Height Gain 3047 ft.
Max. Elev. 6600 ft.
Time on Trail 4 hr. 33 mins.