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.