Hummingbird Plume

Sat. 19 June: Hummingbird Plume Lookout

As lookouts go, this one was in a terrible state, and sat in a clearing surrounded by tall trees with absolutely no view of anything - but it was no less interesting for all that, as I will describe!

The forecast was calling for a good chance of thundershowers this afternoon. Naturally, an early morning start was my strategy. My trail started at the popular Ribbon Creek parking area, below Kananaskis Village. Being early, I had pole position - by late morning this car park would fill up. It was a beautiful day for a hike – clear skies and a cool breeze. There was no snow on any of my trails today, although there were patches of running water.

To travel the trails around Kananaskis Village and Nakiska ski area, one needs a good map. There is a complex network of cross-country ski trails, biking, hiking and horseback routes, across the forested hillsides. There is a long-distance trail over Skogan Pass, and a valley route along Stoney Trail, the old road up the Kananaskis Valley. Luckily they have signposted trail maps at just about every junction, so you would have to work quite hard to get yourself totally lost. And most of these routes are nice wide trails.

My route followed the lower section of Skogan Trail, which skirts the lower edge of the Nakiska ski hill – site of the 1988 Winter Olympic downhill events. I made surprisingly good time through the trail system, gradually or sometimes more steeply climbing, but with almost no views. The one exception was the occasional glimpse of the ski runs on the upper slopes of Mt. Allen, where one could still ski – if you were prepared to slog up several thousand feet of mountainside.

I reached the powerline which cuts directly up to the top of Skogan Pass before it drops down into the Bow Valley. Here I turned right onto Sunburst Trail. Skogan turned off to the left and climbed to the Pass. For some reason, at this junction there was a sign banning horses from my route!

The nice, wide forest trail soon had me at the top of the hill. I tried to imagine this hill before the trees grew so tall. The approach to the lookout would have been quite spectacular as the road reached the clifftop with two last short bends.

I reached a small clearing, and here sat what remained of Hummingbird Plume Lookout. As the guidebook notes, there is a single picnic table nearby, which is in a lot better shape than the lookout! It is perhaps surprising that the lookout was not located right on the edge of the cliff, but perhaps in the pre-forest days, it used to have good 360 degree views from its position.

The building might have disintegrated by now if it wasn’t held together by strong cables on all sides, acting as lightning protection. Inside, the floor is rotten, and the walls are falling apart. But this funny little hut does have a long history, perhaps being built in the early 1900s. It was used as a shelter by German prisoners of war in WW2, when collecting wood. They carved their names on the walls inside.

And there IS a view – one just has to walk a few yards beyond the clearing, to the edge of a high cliff. I found myself looking far down into the Kananaskis Valley, where toy cars were snaking along the road, and the river was shining in the sunlight. To the south were several snow-capped peaks.

On my return journey, I varied my route, returning along the High Level ski trail, onto Skogan trail and back to the powerline. Here I headed directly downhill to the valley, following the often very steep powerline access road – or the remains of a road – it now being overgrown.

This would NOT be a route to attempt in the reverse direction. It seemed a long drop down onto Stoney Trail on the valley floor. Here the powerline splits, and there is an electrical switching station. Funnily enough, I found this mix of spectacular, timeless mountain scenery and ugly power line a fascinating contrast. It made for some good photos.

Turning south onto Stoney trail, I soon came to a junction and headed back into the forest. It was a short walk to Troll Falls, whose roar I had been hearing for quite a while.

The trail came alongside a raging stream, threatening to overflow its banks amongst the trees, and then in front of me was the impressive small waterfall known as Troll Falls. The volume of water, after all the recent rain, was causing the falls to fly horizontally off the upper shelf before dropping noisily into a pool below. I was able to climb a few feet up towards the falls, under a cliff, for a better view. Some holes in the rock, caused by the wear of the swirling water, showed how wild this canyon could get. What I failed to realize was that these holes were actually the nostrils of the Troll. If I had taken a few steps back, without tripping up and getting wet, I would have seen the ugly face of the Troll!

An elderly couple came along and we both took photos for each other. Then as I was returning along the trail from the falls, I passed a couple of geriatric old ladies, one with a walking frame, then more tourists. I got out of there just in time to enjoy its lonely magic. Climbing the steep hillside alongside the stream, I was able to reach the top of the Falls for more spectacular (but not very safe) views of the water surging over the lip.

On my way back down Skogan Trail, I veered off to the right onto the lower slopes of the ski hill, at the Bronze ski lift. Ski hills always seem such desolate places in summer time.

Soon I was back at the car, in a now full car park. Nevertheless it was a peaceful setting, and I relaxed in the warm sunshine watching the clouds starting to build up all around. A number of artists had set themselves up on the picnic tables by Ribbon Creek and were creating their own personal landscape masterpieces.

I had thought about also hiking up to Mt. Kidd Lookout today. So I drove up the hill to Kananaskis Village, where the trail starts. The clouds were starting to look threatening, and I felt I had already had a good day on the hill.

So instead I wandered around the village and in the process made a few discoveries. For a start, I was able to figure out the route up Mt. Kidd from below – and it is relentlessly steep. I also found a wide grassy field covered in yellow dandelions, giving spectacular views of the mountains ringing the Kananaskis Valley to the south – a very Swiss scene, I thought.

Then I also came upon a cliff-top viewpoint of the valley below, with wooden seats and nicely landscaped. Finally I discovered, in the outdoor store, that the next volume of my hiking bible was now on the shelves. The 4th edition of Gillean Daffern’s incomparable “Kananaskis Country Trail Guide” will now be a set of five volumes, the first of which is due to be launched next week – but it is already on the shelves. I was quick to grab my copy.

Having chatted idly with the New Zealander in the store about the merits of Merino wool socks, hiking in shorts and long socks (it’s also a favourite NZ gear) and the superiority of South Island NZ, I returned to the car.

On the return journey I stopped at the “Colonel’s Cabin” opposite Barrier Lake. This is where the old fire lookout building, which used to sit up on the ridge above Barrier Lake, now sits. It was superseded in the early 1980’s and was returned to its original home – which was as a guard tower at the Prisoner of War camp here. Seems a lot of moving for a very unwieldy building, but here it sits, in dire need of a new coat of paint. Not sure I can count it as another fire lookout to check off on my list – but I do remember seeing it back in October 1982 while it was still acting as a fire lookout.

Driving east I passed through some heavy rain showers, but in Calgary it was warm and sunny. At the Elbow River bridge near Bragg Creek there was a collection of fire engines, rescue boats and police cars. I read later that someone had fallen into the river near Bragg Creek, and had been carried away by the strong spring run-off current. I suppose they were looking for the body. A sober lesson about crossing rivers, especially during run-off.


Statistics
Hummingbird Plume Lookout
Sat. 19 June

Total Dist. 14 km (hike)
Height Gain 1296 ft.
Max. Elev. 6120 ft.
Time on trail 3 hrs. 51 mins.

Raspberry Ridge and Cat Creek Hills

Fri. 11 June: Raspberry Ridge Lookout

A tradition is springing up around my birthday, where I head for the hills and enjoy a day outdoors. It almost didn’t happen this year, as I was not able to get away from the office until late morning. But I did escape – arriving at Cataract Creek campsite wearing my office clothes!

One hour later, having changed into my hiking gear and pitched my tent, I was on the trail up to Raspberry Ridge fire lookout. The lower slopes are through pleasant forest, with early views up to the ridge high above, on the northern end of which the lookout building was visible. It was overcast today, but I was sure that the clouds would start to clear away, as the forecast for the weekend was for clear skies. Sure enough, there were some sunny spells, but it was not until much later in the evening that it would clear.

I reached the junction where one has a choice, head directly up the steep slopes to the ridge, or swing left onto the reclaimed fire road. I last came up here back in May 1992, over 18 years ago. At that time I somehow missed this junction and ended up slogging up the steep direct route. Today I chose the longer, but easier, route.

Being in no particular hurry, I enjoyed a relaxed stroll up the long switchbacks, on a perfectly good, if narrow trail, finally up to the southern end of the ridge. The scars from the reclaimed road will last for centuries, but already the ground has largely returned to its original grassy slope, apart from the narrow trail. It was a pleasant stroll with unobstructed views to south and east. Once up on the narrow ridge, I turned north and slogged up the long steep slopes to the high section of the ridge top.

It was quite spectacular standing on the very top of the ridge, whose eastern escarpment was an unbroken sweep of cliff. Soon I came over a rise and there ahead of me was the lookout building, surrounded by various other structures including a solar panel, a strange tank, and an aeriel.

It is sad to have to record that things have completely changed from just a few years ago. One would always be greeted by a friendly lookout person and often invited to share a cup of tea, as was the case on my last visit here with RH in 1992. Now, entirely due to the awful disappearance of the lookout lady from the Athabasca lookout, everything has changed. A fence rings every lookout, with signs telling hikers not to cross the line. And it appears that very often the lookout person – often a lone girl - will not come out to greet you, even when it is a quiet weekday afternoon. It makes sense of course, but it is still a sad reflection of the times we now live in.

Such was the case today. I waited a while, taking a good look all around the mountain world, with my binoculars, and having a snack to eat. I then walked around the fence, to the other side of the lookout, admiring the new loo which had been recently completed. But after a while, when nobody came out to say hello, and the clouds seemed to be building up again to the west, I sadly turned around and started back down the ridge.

This time, however, I came to a break in the cliff, where the direct route heads steeply down the ridge. I made fast work of the return journey down to the little cairn which marked the completion of my ridge circuit. The rest of the hike was a pleasant stroll back down the long forest slopes back to the car. I had seen one deer and no people - and no bears of course. Looking back up the ridge, I could hardly believe that I had just been right up there in the sky.

Returning to the campsite, I settled in for a relaxing evening by a warm fire, as a small handful of campers made themselves at home, nobody particularly close. A family with several kids all under five, was enjoying the excitement of perhaps the first camping trip for some of the younger ones. I strolled down to the river’s edge, a peaceful place to sit for a while. There were a few light showers but I stayed dry thanks to a tarp I had erected over the picnic table. Then around 9pm the skies suddenly cleared, and the temperatures started to drop rapidly.

By 10 pm I was ready to crawl into my tent and I was soon asleep. This had been an enjoyable hike – even if I wasn’t served tea at the top!


Statistics
Raspberry Ridge Lookout
Fri. 11 June

Total Dist. 11.8 km (hike)
Height Gain 2116 ft.
Max. Elev. 7730 ft.
Time on trail 3 hrs. 29 mins.

Sat. 12 June: Cat Creek Hills
My campsite had a nice view of the grassy meadows along Cataract Creek, and the ground was white with a heavy frost. The sun was lighting up the higher slopes of the hillside opposite, and soon dropped down to shine through the trees onto my tent. It was going to be a perfect day.

I was on my way by 7.30 am, the few other campsite residents still fast asleep. I exchanged a friendly wave with the guy who runs the campsite as I drove out towards the Forestry road. My objective today was the Cat Creek Hills. As the winter gate at Highwood Junction was still closed, I would bike beyond the gate to Cat Creek. In fact, this was the last weekend before the gate opens on June 15th, so I wanted to enjoy the peace of the Highwood for the last time this year.

Although there were a couple of other vehicles parked at the gate, I appeared to be the first biker up the road today. It was already a perfect morning, with clear blue sky, and temperatures starting to warm up. Nevertheless, as I reached the top of the hill and started to coast down the other side, I had to stop to put on my jacket as the wind was cold.

I was soon at Cat Creek where I hid my bike at the north end of the parking area in the trees. The grassy meadow here, by the edge of the Highwood River, with stunning views of the Elk Range peaks, is one of my favourite places. Here the Cataract Creek interpretive trail starts. I planned to explore that trail later today. I strolled up onto the deserted highway, and walked down to the Cat Creek bridge.

My plan was to do a clockwise circuit of the Cat Creek Hills, climbing to the highest point of these hills on my way round. I had with me a detailed map of the complex trails which start from the bridge, and I carefully followed this map all the way round. It turned out to be accurate, which was lucky as I might otherwise have become totally lost. The old Highway 40 looped around here, and I think the Cat Creek picnic area was once a campsite. The old bridge across Cat Creek, further upstream, has been removed, although the solid concrete walls still stand on each side of the fast-flowing stream.

Here I turned uphill, onto a series of coal mine haul roads connected by zig-zag trails. At one time this was a mining area, but of course it has long since reverted back to nature. Already there were stunning vistas of snow-capped peaks, framed by the forests and woods, with the bright green of the springtime leaves shining in the sun under a cloudless blue sky.

At a helpful small stone cairn, my trail turned right, away from Cat Creek, and climbed steadily up the heavily forested hillsides on an old mine access road. But the alders had been steadily taking over, leaving only a narrow trail. Luckily the leaves had not yet opened up on the bushes. In a couple of weeks, this trail will have largely disappeared from view. Higher up, the trail turns into a narrow creek, luckily not too wet, before widening out again, and zig-zagging high up onto the ridge top. It seemed quite a long and steep ascent and so I was glad to make it out onto the much drier and warmer ridge.

Although on the wide, forested ridge, I still had some way to go to reach the summit. Turning to my left at the trail junction, I made my way through the trees, first on level ground, then climbing to a higher level. To my left I came to the steep edge of the ridge, with superb views across to the snowy Highwood Ranges. To my right I could see the higher ridgeline that I would be following later. Finally I came out above the trees onto the open saddle, where I turned again to my left to reach a grassy top. But there was still a final hill ahead of me. Dropping down to a saddle, I then carefully made my way up the final ridge on loose rock, with a steep cliff on my left, so coming to the summit of the Cat Creek Hills.

There was no cairn and the trees came up to the ridge top. But the views were superb. South was the pointed summit of Junction Mountain – my destination twice in two weeks in March. Westwards the Cat Creek Hills were spread out below me, and behind them the snow-covered Front Ranges. Far below was the Highwood Valley.

I followed the high ridge line of the Cat Creek Hills westwards, contouring just to the left of the prominent “knob” of rock, which from below looks like the summit of these hills – but is quite a bit lower than the real summit. Steep grassy hillsides led to a col, then another contour to the left of the next rounded summit. From there it was a long steep descent on grass right down to the valley floor where the old highway once ran.

This section, although steep, was a delight, with sturdy trees - some now dead, but still standing - framing the mountains, red lichen-covered rocks, and photogenic ridges and hillsides spread out below me. There were early signs of spring wildflowers in the grass, and this would be a colourful place to walk in a week or two from now.

Once back down in the valley, I turned north for the final leg of the circuit, past the dilapidated elk corral. The old mining camp road branched off to the left, up the forested slopes. This final stage along the camp road was a highlight of the trip, maintaining a superb vantage point above the valley. And so back to the old road bridge at Cat Creek.

As a final much-anticipated leg of this hike, I decided to cross the creek and visit Cat Creek Falls, returning to my bike along the so-called “interpretive trail”. My feet were quite hot, but as soon as I stepped into the water, they quickly cooled down. In fact the water was almost unbearably cold. Luckily it was less than a foot deep in the middle. The trail soon reached two tiny footbridges, and then ahead was a small, but pretty waterfall.

There had been a small rockfall across the trail, but this was easily navigated. The setting, in a tall, cool, canyon, was very peaceful. Many years ago there had been a large coal mining camp here, and one could imagine that hot and dusty miners would have found the pool below the falls an irresistible place to clean themselves off.

The interpretive trail back to the start of my hike rose up onto a hillside with superb views down the valley and then up towards the Highwood Pass. As I sat on a convenient bench, I could see that the road was busy with bikers heading in both directions, enjoying the last car-free weekend of the year. I stopped by the edge of the Highwood River where the swirling waters would have made a very dangerous crossing.

Looking up to the Cat Creek Hills from the bridge, it hardly seemed possible that I had stood ABOVE that prominent knob, looking down on it. My return journey to the winter gate took no time at all. At the gate I was perhaps not surprised to find cars parked along each side of the road for hundreds of metres, and bikers returning from, or preparing to set off on, their journeys up the Highwood Pass. The weather was so perfect that just about everyone, it seemed, was outside enjoying the day. One could hardly imagine more perfect weather, or a more perfect place to be on a day like this.


Statistics
Cat Creek Hills
Sat. 12 June

Total Dist. 10 km (hike) +12 km (bike) = 22 km
Height Gain 1820 ft.
Max. Elev. 7020 ft.
Time on trail 6 hrs. 26 mins.

Statistics (Total 2 days)

Total Dist. 33.8 km
Height Gain 3936 ft.
Max. Elev. 7730 ft.
Time on trail 9 hrs. 55 mins.

Ironstone and Carbondale Lookouts

Fri. 4 June: Ironstone Lookout

Now, after a couple of weekends wandering around the Bragg Creek ski trails, the weather was warming up again, and so it was time to get back to the main agenda for the year – Fire Lookout hikes.

But even in early June, the snow can be a barrier to adventurers intent on pushing the hiking season, and the problem at this time of year is that snow shoes aren’t much help as the snow is usually too soft.

Anyway, I set off southwards on my quest to “bag” two more lookouts, the final two Alberta fire lookout locations south of Calgary which I had not yet visited: Ironstone, which lies above Coleman in the Crowsnest Pass, and Carbondale, in the Castle River area further south and east from Ironstone.

As usual, the drive down the “Cowboy Trail”, Highway 22, was a joy. Just about no traffic, and Spring in full flight. Near Millarville I saw a little speckled “Bambi” standing right beneath its mother, suckling away. All the way down the route were cattle with their young calves enjoying perfect grazing. And somewhere along the way a large wolf or coyote crossed the road at great speed, stopping to look back defiantly as I whizzed by.

This is ranching country. I passed the gate to U Lazy U Ranch, and then a little farther on, passed Bar Eleven Ranch, in a perfect Alberta foothills setting. Everything looked so green after the long winter.

In no time I had reached the Crowsnest Highway, Hwy #3, where I turned west. It had been a long time since I had traveled this route. There was now a new road which bypasses several of the various old mining communities which spread out along the Crowsnest valley. Past Turtle Mountain, site of the huge rockslide that buried the town of Frank in 1903, and into Crowsnest Pass.

At the straggling old mining town of Coleman I turned left off the highway and down across the railway line and through a few residential streets consisting of modest homes. Having studied the map carefully I found the York Creek road which leads west out of the town up into the hills. This gravel road is a popular route for snowmobilers and quad riders, and leads to a network of routes through the mountain valleys.

I passed a “staging area” for off-roaders, and crossed the lively York Creek on a narrow bridge. A few switchbacks later I arrived at the start of my first hike, beside a sign that warned me not to turn left – the road leads to a quarry.

I was soon marching up the muddy trail, fully confident of my route, despite all signs for the fire lookout having been removed (deliberately by the Alberta fire service to discourage people from visiting the lookouts).

The trail contoured around the forested hillsides above York Creek, and was faithful to my topo map - luckily, as one might easily become lost out here. There were occasional orange snowmobile/quad signs nailed to the trees, and metal signs with numbered trails at junctions. One sign pointed up a valley towards “Plane Crash”. This popular destination is the scene of a winter 1946 crash of an RCAF Dakota. It apparently took a huge effort to locate and recover the bodies using sleds. Even now, apparently, parts of the plane including a wing and engine, still lie there on the remote mountain slopes.

Just to be sure I would not get lost, I left myself some signs at the junctions – probably unnecessary, but one never knows! Soon I came to the turnoff for the fire road. I knew it was the right place as a locked gate barred the way for anyone but hikers. This rough gravel trail started its climb up onto Willoughby Ridge in a series of long switchbacks. At the first bend I could see what I might be in for, as I met my first snow on the trail. It was an overcast day but warm enough, and the melting snow made the trail into a small stream. But now snowdrifts covered the road. I put on my gaiters and MICROspikes before continuing up the hill. A snowmobile had been up here a few days ago, and so had packed down the snow enough for me to use it as a trail. Luckily, as I continued up the trail, there were several sections which were snow-free, although wet.

At the end of a long switchback, I came upon a little white bench with pink painted love signs and little pink rocks, sitting in the snow. There was an inscription written on the bench, about the power of love. I sat carefully on the bench for a snack, anxious not to break it! Higher up the forested ridge, I found that the trail was now covered by a few inches of snow, which not always held my weight. I trod as lightly as I could and slowly made it up onto the ridge top. Here the snowmobile trail swung to the left and up towards some aeriels on the northern end of the ridge. My destination, Ironstone Lookout, was sitting high above me on the top of a cliff, looking aloof and impregnable.

This next section of trail taxed all my skills and used up a lot of my luck too. I came very close to turning around defeated more than once. For here the snow had drifted several feet deep across the trail. I started to sink into the snow past my knees. The only chance of success seemed to be to stay to the very edge of the trail beside the trees, where the snow was only about a foot or so deep. But it was often deeper even here.

Just when I was about to give up, I found that the snow was holding my weight a little better. I turned uphill and, pretending I was on the final leg of Mount Everest, plodded up the steep snowy slopes, onto a higher section of the trail. And so by stages I finally clawed my way up to the summit ridge and the lookout.

The resident lookout person had a dog who saw me struggling up the trail and gave the lookout plenty of warning of this unexpected visitor – for surely nobody else would have been crazy or persistent enough to have made it up here today. I stood on the ridge-top below the lookout building to catch my breath.

The lookout came down to greet me. I have a terrible time remembering names and her name I had never heard before and promptly forgot it! I do remember that her dog is called Miko! I apologise to my kind hostess if you ever read my blog.

I was invited up to the top of the hill and so I followed. She told me she was hoping the weather would improve soon. Nobody had been up here for a couple of weeks. She asked me if I would deliver a CD and a little crystal ornament to her friend at Carbondale Lookout, which I was pleased to do. She asked me if I had seen any bears and was relieved to know that I had not. I learned that the lookouts in BC are only manned at peak times of fire danger, and so are generally closed up, unlike the Alberta lookouts. She had two tiny glass box gardens, in which were signs of some summer flowers starting to grow, despite this ridge looking like it was still in mid-winter. The views on a fine day from here would be stunning. Even today the jagged snowy mountains were spectacular, rising up into the cloud. There was only a light breeze up here today.

We bid farewell, with my promising to drop off the CD to Carbondale Lookout tomorrow. Thank heavens my return trip down through the snowdrifts was a lot easier. Somehow I was able to walk across the deepest drifts without disappearing up to my chin. Nevertheless, it was not a straightforward hike. Once again, by the way, my new boots kept my feet completely dry, even after over four hours plodding through streambeds and snowdrifts. I was relieved to reach the final switchback and leave the snow behind me. I enjoyed the final few kilometers strolling down the muddy trails back to the car.

My plan was next to drive east and then south to the Castle River area, where I would camp tonight before tackling Carbondale Lookout tomorrow morning. On my way back East, I drove through the long straggling town of Blairmore, not very busy for a weekday. I stopped to admire the large crow and its baby in the nest!

I then turned off at the Frank Slide Interpretive Centre. This modern building actually sits quite high up the side of the valley right opposite the rockslide, in a stunning position to see the whole area of destruction. I had hoped to drop in and introduce myself to the author Joey Ambrosi – we had been corresponding last year as I was updating some of his routes. And he was there today! We were glad to meet each other, and he showed me the progress of his updated hiking book, which is almost ready to publish. He just has to finish the maps. He, like myself, likes the format used by the Canadian Rockies Trail Guide authors, and so is revising his own format accordingly. We had a great chat, and agreed to meet up for a hike later in the year.

To reach the Castle River area, I turned south off the Crowsnest Highway, into a paradise. A foreground of bright green fields coloured yellow by buttercups, behind which rose intriguing foothills and a spectacular backdrop of snow-capped mountains half hidden by the swirling clouds. Turning west at Beaver Mines village, I found that the road was paved and well marked – this is the road to Castle Mountain resort, a popular winter ski area.

I then turned north onto a gravel road which leads past the trailhead for Carbondale Lookout, and ends at Castle Falls campsite. All along this road people had set up their summer camps wherever they wanted. These campsites consisted of multiple RVs, trucks loaded with quad vehicles, and family groups settling in for the weekend.

Castle Falls are really just a slight ledge in the river, but wild and fast-flowing in the spring run-off. My campsite loop was completely empty, and stayed that way! I had no problem picking my site, the best spot right opposite the Falls. It was noisy with the flow of water thundering down the river, but a perfect campsite. I strolled along the river’s edge to get the best view of the racing waters.

A little later on, the campsite attendant dropped by in his truck to see if I needed any firewood. During the summer, he lives in a trailer on an upper loop of the campsite. Perhaps I was a bit surprised when he started talking about books, and that he had a library of over 3000 books at home – not just novels, but history also. He had heard of the Stieg Larsson trilogy that I had just started, thanks to L’s advice. He told me that if I wanted a good hike, then Table Mountain just across the valley was a great hike, and snow-free now. Joey had also recommended that hike to me, so I will put it on my list.

High above the campsite to the southwest was a ridge, and on top sat the Carbondale Lookout building. Thanks to my powerful new binoculars I was able to observe it clearly. There seemed to be a bright red object next to the lookout building. For a moment I thought it looked like a car – but how absurd, I thought; I must be wrong.

The temperatures soon dropped, and even the blazing fire only just kept me warm. Perhaps surprisingly, there were absolutely no bugs of any description, not even one mosquito. They were probably busy breeding, getting ready for a grand attack in a few days time!

After a long and challenging day I was happy to crawl into my sleeping bag for an early night, it still being light outside until past 10 pm. The roar of the river did not stop me falling asleep right away.

Statistics
Ironstone Lookout
Fri. 4 June

Total Dist. 13.8 km (hike)
Height Gain 1900 ft.
Max. Elev. 6800 ft.
Time on trail 4 hrs. 31 mins.


Sat. 5 June: Carbondale Lookout

I slept well, in my deserted campsite, and there were no bears visiting me, despite cautionary advice from my campsite attendant friend. There were some light showers overnight, but the morning dawned bright and sunny, although breezy and with clouds flying across the sky. The weather might do anything today, I thought, so the usual early start seemed to be the right answer.

The trailhead for the Carbondale Lookout was just a few kilometers back down the gravel road, at a gate that I had recognized yesterday as the starting point. Again, all signs referring to the Lookout had been removed. I parked by the gate, from which there were great views of Table Mountain. Passing through the gate, I entered the forest and was soon climbing up the good trail through bright green aspens swaying in the breeze.

Soon the road curved to the left and started a long, persistently steep climb up through the trees. It was a little muddy lower down, and water ran down the road in a few places, but overall this was a very pleasant forest hike, on a good trail.

Eventually the trail switchbacked to the right and finally rose up out of the trees onto the sloping ridge. Views by now were becoming spectacular. It took another three switchbacks to reach the summit of the ridge. The Lookout came into view on the second-last leg which was now running across open hillsides. Of all the Lookout trails that I have hiked, this was one of the prettiest and the most enjoyable to walk along. The wind was quite strong up here, and there seemed to be imminent danger of a rain shower, but it stayed dry. To the west was the Continental Divide, and on the BC side the clouds piled high over the mountains. But on this eastern side, the clouds never actually came any further, and the closest to a shower were a few sprinkles of moisture in the air, carried east on the wind.

Very quickly, it seemed, I had reached the Lookout. It was only when I arrived at the very top did I realize that I was standing on the edge of an enormous cliff. The lookout buildings sat on the narrow ridge-top. I waited for about fifteen minutes hoping that the lookout person had seen me coming up the road. But when nobody came out, I walked closer to the building and shouted a greeting. Perhaps, since this was a Saturday morning, they were still asleep in bed. I did not want to go up to the cabin and knock on the door.

That was when I discovered that the bright red blob in my binocular lens the previous evening was indeed a car, a small compact car which amazingly had made it up the long steep, muddy road to the very top of the ridge, and was now neatly parked by the lookout building. So I placed the mail from Ironstone under the windshield washer blade, having added some candy bars, all wrapped in a plastic bag. I wish I could know that the lookout person had found them that morning.

With no sign of anyone to chat to, it was time for me to return down the pleasant hillside, but not before I walked along the very top of the ridge. The views all round were magnificent, and the sun made everything shine brightly. I could see my campsite by the river, far below me, and off to the west, a portion of rainbow lit up a snowy mountainside. It was with reluctance that I turned to make a very speedy descent back to the car.

Having discovered this paradise, I wanted to explore it some more, so I turned right onto the paved road, towards the Castle Mountain ski resort. The road soon turned into a wide gravel highway, sweeping towards the mountain wall. Here was a different climate – a light rain was falling, and the snow covered mountains disappeared up into the cloud. The resort at this time of year was almost deserted. A huge car park hinted at the size of crowds which descend on this area on good skiing days in winter. There were a few cottages and condos, and buildings where one would buy tickets and rent skis, but it seemed just a little forlorn today.

Driving back along the road, I next turned onto the Beaver Mines Lake road, a good gravel route to a beautiful fishing lake and campground. Several guys were standing around the end of the lake fishing, and a family group was heading out on a hike, possibly up Table Mountain.

Returning eastwards, I stopped in the General Store at Beaver Mines to admire all the useful things one could buy, including camping equipment, home made jams, souvenirs, bags of chips, and ice cream! This is a magic world, hidden away behind the Crowsnest Valley, and worth future trips.

Before heading north on the Cowboy Highway back to Calgary, I stopped off at the Lundbreck Falls, where the old main highway used to run. There is an impressive bridge over the river and the waters were thundering over the Falls, while a train snaked its way eastwards over a bridge and above the Falls.

The journey back home was swift and uneventful. Very little traffic at this time of year. To the west was the snowy line of the Front Ranges with the green foothills and grazing pastures below. This is a “must” for any visitors to Alberta. Turner Valley was in the middle of its Heritage Days fair, which I hope stayed dry, as there were huge thunderclouds massing all around. I ran into one short rainsquall which handily acted as a car wash after my dusty journey. In Calgary it was a warm Spring afternoon.


Statistics
Carbondale Lookout
Sat. 5 June

Total Dist. 8.2 km (hike)
Height Gain 1510 ft.
Max. Elev. 5910 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 13 mins.


Statistics (Total)
Total Ironstone/Carbondale
Fri./Sat. 4/5 June

Total Dist. 22.0 km (hike)
Height Gain 3410 ft.
Max. Elev. 6800 ft.
Time on trail 6 hrs. 44 mins.