Pocaterra Ridge

Sat. 25 August:  Pocaterra Ridge

Early-start mountain!  It seemed that, despite being on the trail before 7.45 a.m., we were almost the last people on Pocaterra Ridge today.

Setting off from the Highwood Pass parking lot, J, R and I were just ahead of two hikers who were on their way up Grizzly Col.  Our paths coincided for the first couple of kilometres, before they turned left up the steep mountainside.  It was a cold morning, at zero degrees, and there was a light snowfall on the mountainsides as well as on sections of the trail.  This route starts at over 7,200 feet, from the summit of the highest paved highway in Canada, and so the chilly temperatures and the snow were not surprising, especially after the heavy rains in Calgary the day before.

At the trailhead, a notice asked hikers to keep an eye out for a missing hiker, who had gone missing on this trail a year ago.  Nobody knows what happened to the 59 year-old Aussie.  The first section of trail dives into the forests, and perhaps he immediately went astray.  There are several trails wandering through the trees, some a bit vague.  We picked one of the lesser used options.  Coming out of the trees, we contoured around Pocaterra Cirque, below the steep sides of Grizzly Peak and Tyrwhitt Mountain (9,429 ft.).  

Our trail was heading towards the mountain wall ahead of us, through some of the prettiest alpine meadows you could imagine.  The bright green grass was covered by a light snowfall, and frozen wildflowers had not yet given up the fight for survival.  We passed beside a small lake, with perfect reflections of the mountain wall.  Coming out into the sunshine, we reached the foot of the Pocaterra Ridge, separated from our trail by a curving frozen river of snow, sweeping around the corner from the hidden heights of Little Highwood Pass.

Once on the ridge, the going was straightforward, if steep, all the way to the summit.  Open slopes gave increasingly superb views of the stunning scenery around the Highwood Pass.  Directly to our left, the ridge dropped down to the narrow Little Highwood Pass route, with the Elk Range cliffs immediately behind.  At our backs, to the south, was Grizzly Col, which looked far too steep to hike up - but there were our hiking friends already standing at the top, tiny dots on the high horizon. 

We stopped to admire an eagle soaring effortlessly up the mountainsides on invisible currents of air, with perhaps just an occasional lazy flap of its wings.  To our surprise we saw two groups of hikers far ahead of us up the slopes.  Being an early starter, I rarely find anyone ahead of me.  These people were REALLY early starters!  We never did catch up with them.

The summit of Pocaterra Ridge presented a suddenly breathtaking view northwards of mountain scenery of the highest order. This narrow snow-brushed mountain top is, at 8,750 feet, the highest point on Pocaterra Ridge.  The guidebook gives it the unromantic name of “Peak 4”, since for hikers starting at the other end, it is the fourth of a series of independent peaks along this rugged ridgeline.  Our route today took us in a northerly direction up and down this switchback, paralleling the Highwood Pass road far below us to the right.  To our left was the bare Rockfall Valley, leading down from Little Highwood Pass, underneath the mountain wall to our west.  A more spectacular place to stand would be hard to imagine.

As we walked along the summit ridge, we were even more surprised to meet three guys who had already traversed the whole ridge from the north side. They must have started way before dawn.  What was it about this ridge that drew such early birds?

The next four hours were a delight, and occasionally a minor challenge.  We steadily made our way up and down the ridge, making sure not to miss each summit along the way.  The finest views were perhaps eastwards to the Elbow Valley and the blue waters of Elbow Lake nestled in its steep-sided valley.  Between Peaks 2 and 1 the trail dives into a larch forest, which must be a colorful place in late September. 

By now it had warmed up a little.  Earlier, the occasional sharp wind had us scurrying to put our jackets on.  Peak 1 (our final peak) was an attractive rounded grassy summit, with fabulous views of the mountains immediately to the north, and west to the Spray Valley.  Far below us was our parking lot. 

Dropping steeply down off the open ridge, we entered the forest and followed the narrow trail as it plunged down and down to the valley floor far below.  For some reason, the guide book describes this route in the reverse direction from ours, which adds at least 1,000 feet to an already strenuous outing.  This long steep ridge would not be a good start to a day.  Apparently, not many years ago, hikers used to have to bushwhack up here, which defies the imagination.

At last we came out onto the forested valley floor, found a handy log spanning the creek, and were soon back out onto the highway, just a few metres from the Valleyview parking area.  Here, at the start of the day, we had left one car, before driving in the other vehicle up to the Highwood summit where our hike had started.  It was a simple drive the eight or so kilometres back up the Pass.  Near the top, a large herd of bighorn sheep was standing in the middle of the road, not the least inclined to heed passing vehicles – and of course this is exactly what the tourists have come to see anyway.  It was a busy scene at the summit of the Pass.

We completed our circuit by driving back to Calgary down the Highwood Valley, stopping in the sunshine at Cat Creek for a slice of melon, as is the occasional custom.  Last week, R and I had been almost certain that our hike up Snow Peak could not be surpassed.  Having declared today’s trip the best ever ridge hike, we had found a way to beat, or at least equal, the best!  Now where do we go from here?

Statistics
Pocaterra Ridge
Sat. 25 August
Total Dist.	8.9 km (hike)
Height Gain	2,100 ft.
Max. Elev.	8,750 ft.
Time	7 hrs. 20 mins.

Other Stats.
Start:             7.44 am Peak 4:         10.24 am Peak 3:         11.30 am Peak 2:         12.40 pm Peak 1:          1.55 pm Car:               3.04 pm	Temp:  0 to +17 C Cloudless, cool wind at times Car locations:  Start (Highwood Pass:  7,230 ft.) is 1000 ft. higher than end (Valleyview)

Snow Peak

Sat. 18 August:  Burstall Pass/Snow Peak

I hadn’t climbed this high in over a quarter of a century!  In all my hikes around the Canadian Rockies, over a period of thirty one years, I had only broken the 9,000 foot barrier eight times, and not since 1987.  But today I made it nine.

It would  have been unthinkable not to have made use of the perfect weather forecast.  Absolutely no chance of a cloud in the sky, and warm temperatures.  This time the forecast was accurate.  RH and I decided on Burstall Pass, with a couple of options once we reached the Pass.  It would be busy up there today, and so we were on the road before 6 a.m. and on the trail from Mud Lake before eight o’clock.  We weren’t the first. A couple of  climbers were setting out to climb Mt. French (10,610 ft.) as we arrived, and as we walked up the gentle, wide trail past the Burstall Lakes, we could hear another party not far behind us.  They were yelling out warnings to a potential bear, thinking perhaps that they were first on the trail today.  The reflections on Mud Lake, and on the Burstall Lakes, were almost perfect.  There was no wind, but it was not a warm morning, being 3 degrees C as we set out, and chilly on the hands. 

We came out of the trees on the edge of the flats, where the melting glaciers on Mt. Robertson formed rivulets of crystal clear water running across the valley floor.  We crossed one shallow stream thanks to a handy, but narrow tree trunk.  Around us, the low bushes made ideal cover for bears, if there had been any around.

Now the climbing began.  On the far side of the valley we entered the dark cover of the forest, immediately climbing the headwall.  I remembered this section from my last visit back in 1993.  That had been a winter trip, and I had not been here in summer since my first year in Canada in 1982.  So from this point on, it was a new experience for me, as I could not recall the route at all.

The climb of the headwall was in two phases, with a relatively flat section in the middle.  We then came out into an open valley, with steep mountain slopes on each side.  R reminded me that we had ski’d up here and had been well aware of the avalanche dangers.  Back then, we didn’t have any transponders or other safety gear, and just took a calculated risk.

Ahead of us was a steeply sloping mountainside rising to a high summit.  This was Snow Peak.

At the end of the valley, the trail rose again through trees, which opened out into the high alpine.  Here were huge snow patches under the cliffs and on the mountainsides.  The views back down the valley were superb, with Mt. Birdwood (10,160 ft.) dominant.   Reaching the Burstall Pass, we were surrounded by a wild mountain landscape.  Highest immediate peak was Mt. Sir Douglas at 11,155 ft.  Through a gap in the Pass we could see the grand peak of Mt. Assiniboine, known as the Matterhorn of the Rockies, and the highest mountain in the Southern Canadian Rockies at 11,870 ft.  Burstall Pass is on the boundary of Kananaskis Country and Banff National Park.  An inviting trail leads down into the Spray Valley, and the blue waters of Leman Lake far below us.

Here we had to make a choice.  We could climb the interesting ridge to our left, which would lead to South Burstall Pass.  Or we could tackle Snow Peak.  This scary looking ridge looked more like a vertical cliff from where we stood, than an easy scramble.  It would take us over 9,000 ft.  It was only 10.30 a.m. on a perfect day, so we decided to give Snow Peak a go.  We honestly didn’t know whether it would be too tricky for us, but we had the energy to try.

There is an undulating climb over rocky terrain to reach the foot of the mountain.  The views were more breathtaking by the minute.  Here below a cliff-band were the strangely named 3D caves, two of them still clogged by snow, and apparently very dangerous.  The third, called the “elliptical pot” was a dangerous hole in the ground, maybe six feet by ten.  This would be the sort of hole you might easily step into on a foggy day.  I threw a large stone down the hole and we heard it clattering away for several seconds, as it plunged into the depths below.  Definitely a place to avoid.

Now the really steep hiking began.  We generally followed the right hand ridgeline, giving us superb views down into the valley we had hiked up earlier.  The shale was a bit slippery at times, and higher up we negotiated the steepest section, which was more like climbing stairs.  But there was really no exposure, just an exciting but easy scramble.  Finally we clambered up over the rocks, past a snowdrift, onto the narrow summit. 

Here, at 9,150 feet above sea level, we had one of the finest views in the Rockies.  In all directions were waves of peaks and valleys.  Some of the peaks were outlandish spikes of rock, with glaciers and snowfields.  Below were steep-sided green valleys and lakes and streams.  Directly ahead of the summit was the Assiniboine group of mountains.

We found a plastic tube in the summit cairn, and there was just enough room in the visitor book to add our names.  Now they need a new book.  I wonder where they keep these logs, and who replenishes the notebook and pencils.  We lingered on this rocky ridge, enjoying the sight of two hawks which circled overhead.  The black-flies were not put off by the elevation, and a large black spider scurried for cover as I returned the tube to the cairn.

As we left the ridge, we could see five people struggling up the mountainside.  They had decided to take an easier route up, but seemed to be making heavy weather of it.  We took the fast scree slope down, slipping and sliding down the mountain, together with tons of loose rock – but safe enough.  It didn’t take us long.  Further down we saw other people heading up the peak.  By the time we had returned to the Pass, there must have been twenty people hiking up the slopes of Snow Peak.  It would be crowded on that narrow summit today.

It was hot by now.  The flies were a bit of a nuisance, but they weren’t too fond of the mixture of sunscreen and mosquito repellant, and so we held them at bay.  A group of backpackers was gathered on the Pass, and several other people were sitting around on the rocks enjoying the spectacular scenery all around.

Our return journey was an enjoyable downhill stroll.  I had bet R that we’d see 100 people today. In the end I counted just over seventy.  We stopped by the Upper Burstall Lake as a light breeze rippled the waters.  All day we had been treated to a grand display of wild flowers, of all colors, even on the high slopes of Snow Peak.  The season seemed to be unusually long this year.

By the time we reached the car park, it was well over twenty degrees, and Mud Lake resembled a mini-resort, with folks sunbathing and paddling in the water.  The last time I was here, the snow was ten feet deep and nobody would have guessed there was a beautiful lake underneath!

Our day was made perfect by a stop at the Fortress store for an ice cream.  High above on the mountainsides around Fortress ski resort, we could see cranes at work, erecting a set for the next Hollywood movie to be shot here in K Country.  Down in the valley, the tourists were out in full force, on what might just have been the very height of the 2012 summer in the Canadian Rockies. 

More important, by reaching the summit of Snow Peak, I had achieved one major goal of my 2012  hiking year.

Statistics
Snow Peak
Sat. 18 August
Total Dist.	19.8 km (hike)
Height Gain	2,950 ft.
Max. Elev.	9,150 ft.
Time	8 hrs. 12 mins.

Other Stats.
Start:             7.41 am Pass:            10.25 am Arr.Peak:      12.05 pm Dep.Peak:    12.31 pm Pass:              1.50 pm Ret. to car:     3.53 pm	Temp:  +3 to +23 C Cloudless

Mt. Hoffmann

Sat. 11 August:  Mount Hoffmann

New routes in familiar country.  And it’s thanks to the latest edition of the Kananaskis Country Trail Guide, Vol.4, which was published just the other day (observant readers might recognize a name on page 6).

Today I had to make a very early start to fit everything into a busy day.  Also, the forecast suggested rain showers before noon.  So I headed out to the Sheep Valley the previous evening as the sun was setting behind the Rockies.  There’s plenty of room in the Jeep for a person to stretch out and get a good night’s sleep – that is, once the Conservation Officer had been persuaded to bend the rules about camping overnight at Indian Oils trailhead.  He came back twice during the night to check I was safe (I guess).

I was on the trail before 6.30 a.m., but was a little disappointed to find that a cloudless night had been replaced by a dull, misty morning.  It never did clear up.  This was more like a Scottish day, with low cloud hiding the mountains, and mist lying on the foothill summits.

The most spectacular part of the hike was right at the start, with the crossing of the bridge over the magnificent Tiger Jaw falls.  The fire lookout access road (Sheep Trail) was a familiar route to me, as it climbed the forested hillside in gently sloping uphill waves.  What was new to me, and I had never noticed it before, was a clearly visible logging road which branched off the trail near its high point below Mt. Hoffmann.  I had walked past this junction countless times before without ever noticing it.  This path leading to the summit of Mt. Hoffmann would be my route today.

The guide book only added this trail in the latest edition, and warned of some tricky route-finding higher up.  In the end, there was no difficulty with finding my way.  Some kind person had flagged the route, and had done such a good job that even the most unobservant hiker could not possibly have missed the trail of orange tape as it wandered up the slopes and through the heavy forest, up to the summit.

This old logging road was fairy overgrown, but the trail was clearly well used, possibly most often by horseback riders.  After a while I came out into a clearing where a logging camp used to be.  There was no sign of the old bedsteads and rusted cans mentioned in the guidebook.  But the book was right in warning of a steep section leading from the far end of the camp.  It was steep!

The flagging came in very handy higher up where the trail meandered through fallen trees across a wide, flat hilltop before coming out of the forest a few hundred yards below the rounded, bare summit.  A small inukshuk sat on the top, which was enveloped in a light mist.  The mountain wall to the west was completely hidden from view by low cloud.  This was an uncharacteristically dull day, more reminiscent of a morning in England or Scotland.  It might have deteriorated into a drizzly or rainy day, but it stayed dry and even tried to clear a little.

My guidebook suggested that the trail continued on further, to the next tree-covered summit a kilometre or so further west.  To reach there I had to drop down a few hundred feet, and then up again from a col to the next top.  But it wasn’t that easy.  There must have been a huge wind storm up here since the guidebook was written.  The hillside was a mass of fallen trees.  With patience I charted a route down the mountainside which avoided most of the fallen trees.  Once at the col, I managed to find a route up to the top, through more deadfall.  On a clear day it would have been worth it.  From this second peak, there were unobstructed views of the Front Ranges.  Today they were swallowed up in the cloud. But below me I could see the end of the Sheep Valley and the Bluerock campsite directly at my feet.

I retraced my steps to the summit, then down through the woods as far as the logging camp.  Here, a side trail took me to a couple of additional hilltops, with some interesting rounded rock formations on the western side, called “The Humps”.  From the top of the second hill, I could see directly down to Indian Oils trailhead and the Sheep Valley road.  Distant foothills rolled away to north and to south.

It was a simple job to return down off the hillsides to the Sheep trail, and then down to Tiger Jaw falls.  Near to the bottom of the trail, I saw a magnificent bighorn sheep with huge horns, standing on the trail looking away from me.  He had spotted someone coming up the trail, but had failed to notice me.  Both the sheep and I got a shock as a tiny white dog came racing round the corner, aiming at the sheep.  They both disappeared off into the trees as two young women came into view, yelling for all they were worth for the dog to come back.  This was the makings of a mini-tragedy, but luckily it worked out right in the end – except that I had been tempted to tell them to keep their dog on a leash.

So in no time at all I had recrossed the Sheep River bridge, and was back at the car.  It had been an intriguing experience on a new route.  On a clear day (as had been forecast for this morning), the views from the summits would have been well worth the journey.  And even today, when the views were limited, it was nostalgic to see mist on the tops and cloud hiding the peaks.   All it lacked was a rain shower – and that was predicted for later in the day.

Statistics
Mount Hoffmann
Sat. 11 August
Total Dist.	11.0 km (hike)
Height Gain	2,440 ft.
Max. Elev.	6,620 ft.
Time	4 hrs. 25 mins.

Other Stats.
Start:             6.24 am Summit:         7.46 am 2nd Peak:       8.24 am Summit:         9.07 am 3rd Peak:     10.01 am Ret. to car:   10.49 am Temp: Rising to +15 C Overcast, mist slowly clearing, warm.	Elev. Gains (ft.): Car-Summit:  1,570 Col-2nd Pk:       300 Col-Summit:      400 Path-3rd Pk:      170 Total:            2,440

Sentinel Peak

Sat. 4 August:  Sentinel Peak

A perfect summer’s day in the mountains – and a worthy peak to tackle.  Sentinel Peak sits at the far southern edge of Kananaskis Country, and has a fairly long approach to it.  So I would imagine that, for this reason, it receives less visitors than other well-known mountains in K Country.  For if it was closer to Calgary, it would be as popular as Moose Mountain.  The approach is easy, but the summit is a spectacular vertical cliff on two sides.  The views are widespread, only limited by the mass of Plateau Mountain directly to the west.

The secret to Sentinel Peak is to bring a bike with you, to shorten the 5.5 km approach route, as well as to enjoy a lightning-fast return at the end of the day.  So J, R and I loaded our three mountain bikes onto my sturdy bike rack for the car journey south through Longview, and west along Hwy 532 over the bumpy Hump mountain pass, to the junction with the forestry trunk road.  Our adventure began at the locked gate across a gas well service road, with its large sign warning of dangerous sour gas!

We made good progress along the road, curving up into the hills, and into a creek where the old Hailstone Butte fire road branched off to the right.  Soon we left our bikes in a handy cover of trees and headed into a narrow gap in the hillsides northwards towards our destination.

The meadows leading to the foot of Sentinel Peak were a delight, albeit a bit lumpy to walk through.  Ahead of us the lower slopes soared upwards to the sky.  Near the end of the meadows we picked our route up onto the forested slopes, heading up to the gentle rounded Sentinel Pass.  There was no clear trail, although we did pick up an old, overgrown trail through the trees higher up the slopes.  It was not difficult, as the trees soon started to thin out, and we could choose our own route up onto the pass and then onto the mountainside. 

Sentinel Pass itself is a mix of scattered trees and open meadows, and is wide and flat.  It sits below the ramparts of Plateau Mountain to the west and Sentinel Peak to the east.

We wandered through the trees, up onto the open slopes, and contoured up towards the bare summit ridge.  Below us a small herd (or is it a flock) of mountain sheep wandered casually towards us, hesitated for a moment, then continued their journey across the mountainside directly below us.  As they crossed over the ridge to our left, they formed a noble silhouette.

The final section of our ascent was on totally bare mountainsides, not unfamiliar to R and myself from long-ago hikes in the Yorkshire Dales and in Scotland.  But this mountain summit lay at over 7,700 feet!  And its summit was spectacular.

Reaching the top, we found ourselves standing at the edge of a gigantic cliff, dropping thousands of feet to the valley below.  Northwards the 8,038 ft peak of Mt. Burke was prominent, the abandoned Cameron fire lookout building visible on its tiny summit. But it was just one of many pointy peaks on display all round.  The high flat summit of Plateau Mountain dominated the western views, with the sharp peaks of the Elk Range sticking out above the plateau.  We could see the ice cave on its steep eastern slopes, seemingly unreachable from the hillside above it.  But I had stood in the cave entrance last year, so I knew it could be done.  To the south, the line of ridges stretched to Hailstone Butte and its fire lookout, and to many peaks much further south.  It was a little hazy out across the prairies, although the downtown skyscrapers of Calgary were just visible.

We stayed over fifty minutes on the summit, relaxing in the sun, with only the slightest breeze blowing.  Reluctantly we started back down, this time following the steep eastern edge of the cliffs the whole way back down to the meadows far below.  There were plenty of opportunities for exciting photo shots of one or other of us standing on a dangerous looking ledge high above the forests below.  As we dropped down the final slopes, we met a couple making their way up, and curious to know if there was a route through the trees below Sentinel Pass.  We gave them a few ideas.

Our return was an enjoyable stroll through the meadows, followed by a fast bike ride down roads which seemed to be downhill almost the whole way back (with one short uphill section).  And the breeze we created helped to cool our sun-smacked faces.

There was, of course, a dessert of melon awaiting the team, as has become an occasional tradition over the years.  Despite this being a statutory holiday long weekend, the traffic back to the city was light.  On such a beautiful weekend, no doubt most people were relaxing somewhere enjoying the perfect weather – before it’s all over for another year!

  

Statistics
Sentinel Peak
Sat. 4 August
Total Dist.	6.5 km (hike) + 11.0 km (bike) = 17.5 km
Height Gain	1,634 ft.
Max. Elev.	7,785 ft.
Time	6 hrs. 5 mins.

Other Stats.
Start bike:      7.54 am Start hike:     8.59 am Ar.Summit:  11.02 am Dp.Summit: 11.57 am Bikes:            1.31 pm Ret. to car:     1.59 pm	Temp: + 9 C to + 24 C Almost cloudless, hardly a breeze, warm Round trip (car) =  252 km