Galatea Lakes

Sat. 24 July: Lillian and Galatea Lakes

Any trail which starts off with a hike across a suspension bridge will always get my vote! This crossing of the Kananaskis River is just the start of a magnificent trail up Galatea Creek, leading to three stunning mountain lakes. And along the way one follows a lively stream, with nine further crossings on a variety of smaller wooden bridges.

Given the perfect weather forecast, J and I knew that this would be a busy trail by mid-morning. So at 6 a.m. we were leaving the city, and were on the trail just a few minutes after 7 a.m. It was a cloudless day, but a cool morning, with temperatures around 7 degrees C. The Galatea car park, in the Kananaskis Valley, already had a dozen cars in it. These belonged to the campers who were staying overnight up at Lillian Lake. We were very likely first on the trail today.

The path climbed at a gentle pace for several kilometers, crossing and re-crossing the Galatea Creek, which was bubbling along, still carrying the snow-melt down from the upper lakes. We made good time. After the final bridge, the trail started to climb more steeply, to the important trail junction where the Guinn’s Pass trail branched off to the right. It dropped down to the creek, then climbed steeply up to the high pass and over into Ribbon Creek. We carried straight on, soon arriving at the eastern end of Lillian Lake, a marshy area with fallen trees in the shallow water. Just around the corner, the lake itself came into view. Surrounded by trees, it has a dark green colour, with a high rocky mountainside behind. The mountain and the blue sky were reflected in the water. Reflections along the shoreline were so perfect, without even the smallest ripple on the water – an ideal nightmare for a jigsaw picture!

The wilderness campsite consisted of tents widely spaced in the trees at the western end of the lake, each sitting on a gravel pad. It was around 9 a.m. and some campers were up and already fishing by the lake or making breakfast.

Here we turned onto the Galatea Lakes trail and started to climb more steeply up through the trees above the campsite. The trail made a zig-zag up the steepest section, then came up out of the trees onto open scree and avalanche slopes. Already the views looking back down to Lillian Lake were fine. Towering above us was a rocky mountainside with a large outcrop sticking out horizontally, and looking as if it must tumble down on top of us at any moment. I suggested to J that if it did, I would clutch my camera in one hand and hold it high, so if we were buried, it would be recovered and we might win a posthumous “picture of the year” award. Perhaps the 7,000+ feet of elevation was already affecting me.

From here onwards, as we climbed up into the Alpine zone, every step brought us a new and ever more spectacular view. This might have been one of the finest hikes I have ever done. We came in sight of the lower Galatea Lake, surrounded by mountains, and still with snow drifts all around. The water glittered a bright blue. The trail followed the northern shoreline, on steep scree slopes, on a fairly well defined path. While it seemed quite safe when walking along it, when we looked back from the far end of the trail, it looked extremely exposed and steep. We crossed a large area of snow left over from a winter avalanche path. Up to our right was a tall, slender waterfall dropping down from the high summit ridge, passing in stages through tunnels of drifted snow.

At the far end of the lake, crossing more snowfields, we then climbed up the far hillside to a gap in the low ridge. Here the wildflowers were beautiful. Standing at this gap, we had a stunning view back down to the lower lake, but an even grander view west to the Upper Galatea Lake. Here winter still seemed to rule. The lake lay below towering mountain walls, and was still partly covered by ice and snow. Large patches of snow clung to the mountainsides. At the northern side of the lake, was a sweeping rocky hillside falling down into the lake. This might well have been a glacier even within living memory.

The hike round to the far end of the Upper Lake was a joy. Along green grassy slopes, through some trees, then onto the bare rocky shoreline to the western end. Here, below the high cliffs, we sat on the rocks and looked down into the sparkling blue waters. Patches of snow were still lying on the lake, with the white snow turning to a bright blue under the water. This was a perfect place for a picnic lunch. We had the entire mountain bowl to ourselves.

Returning to the gap in the ridge between the two Galatea lakes, we turned right and followed the trail high above the southern shoreline of the Lower Lake, along scree slopes. Ahead of us a tall vertical cliff soared up into the sky. The trail threaded through some interesting rock formations. Just before the trail took a steep dive down the slopes towards Lillian Lake, we were rewarded with grand views of that lake lying far below us in the trees, and shining with a bright green colour. The trail guide warned that this steep section of trail was not advised for upward travel, and they were right. Even going downhill on the steep slopes was tricky. The final section down to the campsite consisted of loose rocks, designed to give someone a bad fall and a twisted ankle. We arrived at the campsite, by the modern biffy, with ankles intact – but knees aching.

Here at the campsite, things had sprung to life. People were sitting by the lake, relaxing, or gathered in small groups chatting away, or marching up the trail towards the upper lakes. The day was well under way. The guidebook description could not be improved upon: “Every summer weekend, the environs of the lake takes on a festive atmosphere from the mingling of campers and day trippers who are fishing, socializing…”.

This was nothing compared to the scene that would unfold in the coming hour or so. For from this point onwards, as we passed along the edge of the lake and made the long journey back down the trail, we were never alone for more than a few minutes. A constant stream of day trippers was making its way up the trail. Young couples, Japanese tour parties, families from Europe, people with dogs (on and off leash), parents carrying babies, small kids running ahead of them. One could see why there would be no room for bikers, and why bikes are banned from this trail. Even the bears must have given up on this trail some time ago – no room for them either! J did a very good job leading the way, politely greeting each group, and stepping off the narrow path to let them through. For many of them, this was clearly a tough journey, and several breathless people asked us how much further they had to go.

Just below the steepest section of trail, at a bridge, we were looking for the Lost Lake trail, and although not signposted, we found it, just below the confluence of the two branches of Galatea Creek. We followed this overgrown trail a few hundred yards to look for the remains of Alvin Guinn’s cabin. Guinn was a cowboy, guide and outfitter who led a long life in the Rockies, only passing away in 2006. His son runs Boundary Ranch in the Kananaskis Valley today. Guinn was famous for leading a string of packhorses over an impossible mountain pass and thus giving his name to a nearby route. There is not much left of his cabin. From here, a narrow trail leads through the trees towards Lost Lake and then up a steep route over to Rummel Lake.

Back on the main trail, we continued to pass folks making their way up to join the growing crowds at Lillian Lake – must be quite a party up there by now. To have had this trail, and the upper lakes, to ourselves, simply by getting up early, seemed too good to be true.

Finally we arrived back at the suspension bridge, feeling a little hot, under the now 26 degree temperatures and blue skies. A perfectly situated bench allowed us to sit in the shade and admire the bridge and Mt. Kidd’s towering slopes above. One final latecomer was heading up the trail. He asked if there was anyone up there as he was afraid of meeting a bear. We were able to put his mind at rest on that point! One final steep haul brought us back to the car, in a now overflowing car park. We were alone here – everyone else was fighting for space up at Lillian Lake. It was a hot afternoon.

The Kananaskis Valley was busy with cars and motorbikes as everyone was out enjoying the perfect Alberta summer weather – while it lasts.


Statistics
Lillian & Galatea Lakes
Sat. 24 July

Total Dist. 18 km (hike)
Height Gain 2214 ft.
Max. Elev. 7250 ft.
Time on trail 6 hr. 54 mins.

The Passionate Hiker Tours Inc.

Sat. 17 July: Nanton and The Hump

There is a classic circular route which is a spectacular introduction for any visitor to Alberta. It’s 300 km in length, starting in Calgary, and covering the foothills, the Highwood Pass, and the Kananaskis Valley. Today I invented a new and equally rewarding tourist loop, also – by coincidence – 300 km in length. I would be very surprised if many other people have done this particular trip.

My visitor today was cousin PT from Leeds in Yorkshire. Our journey took us south on Highway #2 to Nanton, west over the Porcupine Hills to the Chain Lakes, further west - now on gravel roads - over “The Hump” onto the Forestry Trunk Road, then north to Highwood Junction, and so back onto the southern portion of the more well-known circuit, east along the Highwood Valley to Longview and finally north along the Cowboy Highway to Calgary. It was an awesome day.

Centrepiece of the Bomber Command museum in Nanton was a restored Lancaster bomber. The four-engined giant plane filled the hanger. Beside it were replicas of the torpedo which sunk the Tirpitz battleship, and the bouncing bomb which destroyed the Ruhr Valley dams. The Dambusters story was well-known to me as they had practiced for the raid on our local dams in Derbyshire. P and I sat for a full hour watching a superb film on the role of the Canadians in the air wars of World War 2, based on stories of graduates from a High School in Winnipeg, many of whom were killed in the War.

The road west from Nanton over the Porcupine Hills was paved all the way, curving gracefully up to a broad summit, then down the other side, with grand views of the Front Ranges ahead. I had never stopped at the Chain Lakes Provincial Park before. It is not unlike parts of the Lake District in England. A few people were enjoying the warm sunshine, sitting beside the lake, or fishing, and there were a couple of boats on the water. But it was a quiet scene for a summer weekend. The high ridges to the west still had a few patches of snow on the summits. A small concession was open so we treated ourselves to ice creams.

Turning first north on Highway 22, then west, we were now on a dusty gravel road. This road, which I discovered last year, is the access route to the very southern end of Kananaskis Country. It climbs to an exciting steep pass, called simply “The Hump”. There was a smell of burning rubber by the time we reached the summit, just under 7000 feet above sea level.

We stepped out of the car, and started to climb gently up the hillside to get a better view to the east. Far out across the low foothills lay Nanton. Perhaps to my surprise, P, who is now well over 70, was keen to keep going up the steeper hillsides, and so eventually we reached the top of the first of the ridges which make up the Windy Peak Hills.

It was a warm, sunny day, with good visibility. “That’s Calgary way over there to the northeast”, P said. “Oh no – it can’t be Calgary, that’s too far away to see”, I replied confidently. Out came the binoculars and I was wrong!!! We both thought this was an impressive place to stand, particularly since we were able to see the tall skyscrapers of my home town on the horizon after over 120 kilometers of driving.

To the north we could see Hailstone Butte Lookout perched on the top of its cliff. Directly behind it lay the tall, rocky peak of Mt. Burke, where the abandoned Cameron Lookout still stands. On our ridgetop, P enjoyed following the tiny butterflies across the hillsides, while I was greeted by a friendly chipmunk.

The wildflowers up on the mountainside were wonderful. The Spring snows had arrived late this year, and so the flowers were now playing catch-up. At the risk of repeating a bad joke, all we seemed to lack was Julie Andrews dancing up over the horizon.

We kept half an eye on some clouds building up over the ridge above us, but there was no real danger of rain today. We strolled back down to the car after filling our lungs with plenty of fresh air. There were some nice reflections in the little mirror lake on the top of the Pass.

Continuing west, we joined the Forestry Trunk Road and turned north. There were only a few vehicles on the road, but each one created its plume of dust. At Cataract Creek, we stopped for a picnic lunch before continuing north past Raspberry Ridge Lookout sitting up in the sky to our left. Over lunch we reminisced about past politicians of Great Britain, most of whom have been dead for many years! Our picnic spot was a very Scottish scene, we thought, with the small river running through the pine trees.

At Highwood Junction we turned east onto the nicely paved road and enjoyed a pleasant return to Calgary on the familiar route through Longview and Turner Valley.

And whether I am strictly correct or not, I’m claiming today’s stroll as a statistic on my 2010 hiking list!


Statistics
Windy Peak Hills
Sat. 17 July

Total Dist. 2 km (hike)
Height Gain 500 ft.
Max. Elev. 7150 ft.
Time on trail 1 hr. 46 mins.

Three more Alberta fire lookouts!

Thurs. 8 July: Limestone Lookout

Limestone - a remote, alpine lookout, with one of the easiest approaches of any of the fire lookouts in the Alberta foothills!

By “easiest” I mean from a hiker’s point of view. But it is also one of the longest and trickiest approaches along backcountry roads.

Leaving the city mid-morning, I took my time on busier than usual roads, up Highway 22. I still made good time to Sundre, not such a sleepy town in the middle of a working day. Having stopped for supplies at a well-stocked store at the Shell gas station, I turned west onto quiet, paved byways, to the little hamlet of Bearberry. This is one of the gateways to the Forestry Trunk Road, and a busy route for logging trucks and gasfield vehicles.

At the Forestry Trunk Road, I turned south and soon reached the James-Wilson campsite, situated in a bend of the James River. It looked to be largely uncared for, but there were some nice, if overgrown, sites to choose from. With only 17 sites, it’s only small, with basic amenities. By now the afternoon clouds had started to build up, and a few heavy drops of rain fell as I pitched my tent.

It looked to me as if the afternoon might deteriorate into a series of heavy thundershowers. Nevertheless, it was still only early afternoon, so I decided to head out into the wilderness and figure out the route leading to the Limestone Lookout trail. Weather permitting, I would then hike to the lookout.

Continuing south along the forestry road for another ten kilometers, I came to an open gate and large sign. This sign warned travelers that this was a private road owned by Shell, and travel was at your own risk. The road was dangerous and narrow, and there was danger of H2S gas. So naturally I drove straight through the gate without another thought. To reach the trailhead required one to follow complicated directions laid out precisely in my lookout guidebook. There was no certainty that one could get even close to the trailhead. Of course, there was absolutely no sign indicating a lookout trail, although there were lots of signs to various gas wells.

This might be called gasoline valley. This pretty green vale was littered with small gas plants and wellsites, connected by a network of underground lines, and reached by side roads marked with the wellsite or gas plant identification numbers. Cattle grazed along the edge of the grass, and the front ranges rose to the west.

I had brought my bike along, due to the uncertainty of the route. From the gate at the forestry road to the trailhead it was exactly 22.7 kilometres. In the end I was surprised to find that I was able to drive 21.0 of those kilometers, including several complicated junctions, a gate which was open, and a steep hairpin bend up onto a flat forested ridge – then along the ridge to a final junction. The road, rough but driveable, had steadily climbed out of the valley. But once up on the ridge, the final 1.7 kilometres looked to be far too rocky to drive a car. So I parked on the wide ridge top and set out up the road. To the west the Front Ranges lined the horizon, Above me thunder clouds seemed to be gathering, but there was plenty of blue sky too.

The road finally ended at a slight rise in the ridge, where a number of aeriels and their power units stood. From here, the dramatic Limestone ridge soared upwards to the distant lookout building sitting on the highest point. It was a pleasant walk for only 2.8 kilometres up to the lookout, first down to a saddle, then up through the grassy hillsides to the bare, rocky summit. Power poles followed the trail, all the way up.

Clouds swept over the summit, but it remained mostly sunny. At the final saddle below the lookout, a polite sign asks quad drivers and bikers to leave their vehicles at the saddle. Reaching the summit, I was greeted by a pleasant middle-aged lady observer. She went back inside her building to get the visitors book for me to sign. Perhaps surprisingly, I was not first up there today. Some people from Calgary had signed the book earlier that morning. The observer told me that she doesn’t get a lot of people up there, and the snow had only left the summit a couple of weeks ago. She had just received her next two months of supplies by helicopter, but they had forgotten the radishes. She told me she had seen two other people on the hill behind me. She seemed a little nervous about them, and asked if they were with me. I was pretty sure there were no other people on the hill, and I certainly didn’t see anyone. We chatted about various other lookouts we had visited, including Barrier Lookout and Moose Mountain – she told me she would not want to work there, with all those people dropping by. She didn’t mind an occasional visitor, but she was busy observing as there were plenty of fires to spot in this region.

Limestone Lookout sits on an isolated peak, with grand all-round views. I could see across to a distant ridge to the north, which would be my destination the following day.

We said goodbye to each other and I returned down the ridge, with the clouds starting to break up a little, and plenty of blue sky. It didn’t take me long to get back to the car, and then make my way safely off the mountain and through gasoline valley back to the forestry road. Without good instructions, one would become hopelessly lost in this vast forested foothill world.

That evening, a warm breeze started to blow, and the clouds magically disappeared to leave a clear blue sky above the waving trees of the campsite. I walked a little way down a track to the gently flowing James River. The only other campers were a couple in a dormobile, and we greeted each other as he walked back from a fishing expedition. Apart from us, there was a large family group across the site who were I think the resident custodians – not that I saw them doing any custodian-ing!

It was a warm night despite the clear skies.


Statistics
Limestone Lookout
Thurs. 8 July

Total Dist. 9.0 km (hike)
Height Gain 690 ft.
Max. Elev. 7315 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 19 mins.


Fri. 9 July: Old Baseline and Baseline Lookouts

I was up at 5.30 a.m. ready to get started on my next adventure. The sun was just catching the top of the trees on a perfect cool, cloudless morning. As I left the campsite the sunlight was shining across the road, making driving a bit tricky until I swung north.

To reach my next hike, I had to drive just a little less than 70 kilometres north and west up the Forestry Trunk Road. This first part of the road, to the Bearberry turnoff, was the busiest. Logging trucks were at work, and several gasfield trucks came whizzing by, creating a huge plume of dust along the road. North of this junction, the road was mostly deserted. After crossing the Clearwater River on a large steel bridge, the road headed up over a forested ridge. There were signs warning people not to travel along here in winter, and it was tricky enough on a dry summer’s day. The road twisted and turned, first up the ridge, then down the other side into a wide valley. To the left was the high bare Limestone Ridge, with the lookout building visible high up on the summit.

Finally turning right, I came to what I thought was the trailhead for Baseline Lookout, in a deep valley. At the very moment that I parked my car, another vehicle pulled into a clearing across the road and a man got out, put on a backpack and strode up the path through the gate. Quite a coincidence, I thought. This turned out to be a very lucky break. Soon I caught up with the traveler, a man of perhaps my age, with long hair tied behind his head, and wearing jeans and a checked shirt. We greeted each other. He explained that he was headed up the valley to look for a remote cabin, then up to the old lookout. He told me he had decided to get out of the rat race and was living happily in Rocky Mountain House.

He also told me that we were not where I thought we were! We were heading up a blind valley, and I should either have been on the lookout access road some two kilometres up the road, or onto the high ridge to our left. I saw where I had misread the map. He suggested I take a quad track leading off to the left, and so we parted company with a friendly farewell.

I knew the climb to the top of the ridge would be hard work, but in the end, I managed it comfortably enough. It was a steep hike up through forested hillsides, the ground littered with deadfall. Gradually I zig-zagged up the mountain, finally coming out onto a very steep bare slope and then up onto the top of the ridge. Here a perfectly good road (the right trail!) marched along the top of the flat, open ridge top. Ahead, at the top of a cliff-band, stood the old Baseline Lookout. It was a magical walk up the ridge to the lookout. This is apparently a historical monument, at least until it finally disintegrates. It runs the Hummingbird Plume lookout a close second in dilapidated old lookouts! But its position was simply spectacular. Across the forested saddle sat the new lookout tower, sitting up above the trees. It was a little hazy today, on this cloudless, breezy day. Below to the east sat the ugly Ram River gas plant, but with that exception, the scenery was breath-taking.

One early lookout observer, who was here during the period 1929 to 1938, had carved his name in the rock. He had also carved some handy steps as it would be slippery up here in wet weather.
As I dropped off the ridge and across the saddle towards the new lookout tower, I noticed my traveling friend far down below on the hillside. The journey to the top of the new lookout hill required a bit of work negotiating a very rough trail in the forest, used by motorbikes it appeared, and with lots of roots and ruts. But once on the ridge, I simply turned left onto a wide road and there was the Baseline Lookout tower ahead.

As I walked up towards the lookout tower, on its tall steel legs, maybe 50 or 60 foot above the ridge, I was greeted from the tower. It was probably quite hot up there, because an upper torso, with no shirt, leaned out to greet me. “Are you the ship’s captain?” I asked. To which he replied – with an antipodean accent – yes indeed he was. I told him I had met his wife up on Blackrock Mountain – where she is lookout this year. He apologized for not offering me a cup of coffee as he had just climbed the tower five minutes ago. There was no need for an apology as the climb up the tall tower would be quite an effort, even for a fit observer. He knew who I was, “the guy doing all the lookouts this year”! He invited me to step over the fence and use the benches on the east side of the ridge. This was an ideal place for a picnic lunch. I could see the bare peak of Limestone Mountain to the west. Clouds were passing by, looking a lot like floating camels.

From here my journey was straightforward as I marched down the access road into the valley far below. This road was obviously in constant use and was in perfect condition. After just over four kilometers I reached the gate. Once back down on the forestry road, it was a long, hot walk back along the road to the car. I stopped to cool my feet off in a stream. Luckily only about two vehicles passed by, as they each kicked up a cloud of dust.

As I drove onward towards Rocky Mountain House, I was chased along the dusty road by a truck pulling a camper, followed by a huge logging truck. Thank heavens I finally reached the paved highway. Just past the Strachan exit, where J and I headed west to Ram Lookout the other week, I turned south and found a handy paved highway cutting off a large portion of Highway 22 south of Rocky Mountain House. From here it was a steady trip south to Calgary, with a leisurely stop in Caroline for a break. There was plenty of traffic on the road, but I kept up a good pace. To avoid the bottlenecks in Calgary I drove around by Bragg Creek and into town from the south. It was a hot, sunny day in town, and the opening day of the 2010 Calgary Stampede.


Statistics
Old Baseline/Baseline L/Os
Fri. 9 July

Total Dist. 12.7 km (hike)
Height Gain 1720 ft.
Max. Elev. 6265 ft.
Time on trail 3 hrs. 41 mins.


Statistics (Total)
Limestone/Baselines Lookouts
Thurs./Fri. 8/9 July

Total Dist. 21.7 km (hike)
Height Gain 2410 ft.
Max. Elev. 7315 ft.
Time on trail 6 hrs. 00 mins.

Barrier Lookout and Jewell Pass

Sat. 3 July: Barrier Lookout and Jewell Pass

There’s no point trying to avoid the crowds if you want to go hiking on the July Long Weekend. The only card you can play is the early start card. And it worked for us today.

With JM back in town, and officially retired, I finally have a hiking colleague to share the trails with. Today J did the driving out to the Kananaskis Valley. We had a few options for the day, but chose Barrier Lookout trail, making a return loop via Jewell Pass. The trailhead is less than an hour from the city, and the traffic was light.

Our trip started at the Barrier Lake parking area and we were first up the trail today. This trail starts by crossing the Barrier Lake dam, a grand way to start a hike, with impressive mountains surrounding the lake, and our destination high up on the western skyline.

This is the way to climb mountains: gentle switchbacks all the way to the top – or almost all the way. Eleven zigs and zags took us quickly up through the forested hillside out onto the lower viewpoint where the Pigeon lookout hut once stood. I saw it on my first trip up here in 1982, before it was removed and superseded by a new lookout higher up on the ridgetop.

From this lower vantage point, the views were wonderful. But a steep ascent soon had us up onto a higher cliff with even better views. Here we could see eastwards to Calgary and the Bow Valley, as well as to a sea of mountains to the south. This is called Prairie View Viewpoint, part of McConnell Ridge.

Having gone this far, we continued up a good, but steep, trail up the final ridge to the “new” lookout building, erected in the early 1980’s. This final trail comes out right on the edge of a very dangerous cliff, with rocks which look in real danger of tumbling to the forest below. This is the cliff one sees every time one drives west along the Trans-Canada Highway into the mountains to Banff. From below, it is just another mountainside, ringed by much higher and more spectacular peaks. But from above, we really did have a bird’s eye view of that busy highway snaking its way off the prairie into the mountains, as well as the spectacular Yamnuska Mountain right opposite, and the Kananaskis River meeting with the Bow River. This was a spectacular, dangerous place to stand. With a small extra effort we were on the summit, where the fire lookout building sits, along with various other buildings, aeriels, the helicopter pad, and so on.


There was no sign of the lookout observer. Nevertheless, we walked across to the west side of the summit to take a look at the view up the Bow Valley towards Banff. The clouds were heavy in that direction, and the winds were cold. I could see an artist’s easel inside the lookout building, and since it was only around 9.30 in the morning, the observer might still be asleep in bed. This is one of the busiest lookout destinations, and so the observer probably tries to ignore hikers as much as possible.


So we returned down the upper ridge, before turning right and dropping down into a heavily forested valley beyond McConnell Ridge. A good trail led us down and down through the trees, on an extension of the Prairie View trail. There were really no views, but the steady downward path was our reward after the steep uphills before!

Reaching a junction in a small clearing on the valley floor, we turned left. In each direction the trails headed back into the trees. We were now on Jewell Pass Trail which the map shows as being part of the Trans-Canada trail. It continued to drop down through the woods. Somewhere along this section, we met our first traveler of the day- not bad for Canada Day weekend. From now on, we were seldom alone for more than a few minutes at a time. We dropped down to a small stream, and to our right was a pretty waterfall of about twenty feet in height. This was a great place for a rest in the cool shade. Here we saw our first two bikers of the day.


The trail now followed the tumbling stream down a narrow valley, then contouring higher above the valley floor before swinging round above Barrier Lake beneath the ugly power lines. We enjoyed a lunch break by the edge of the lake, checking out the various mountains all around: Mount Baldy (7192 ft) across the lake, Mount Lorette (8159 ft.) behind us, and even higher peaks to the south. The wildflowers along this final section above the lake, under the power line right of way, were fine, and J did an awesome job of capturing these with his excellent camera.


We were soon back at the Stoney Trail junction and on the final stretch back across the dam to our car. By now there was a steady stream of trippers on the trail, enjoying the perfect hiking weather. There were plenty of clouds, but no serious threat of any rain. Our car park was now full! This was more like the type of long weekend afternoon that we know and love (or not!!!!!!).


Statistics
Barrier Lookout & Jewell Pass
Sat. 3 July

Total Dist. 15.7 km (hike)
Height Gain 2050 ft.
Max. Elev. 6550 ft.
Time on trail 5 hrs. 16 mins.

An Alberta Paradise

Wed. 30 June: Flat Creek & High Rock Ridge

With a perfect weather forecast, how could I not head out again to the mountains – although it was only three days since our fairly strenuous trip to Ram Lookout.

I wanted to do a bike trip, as so far this month I had only used my mountain bike once. It had been just over a year since I had traveled up Flat Creek for an adventurous wilderness camping trip. Flat Creek is possibly my favourite place in Alberta.

So, after a couple of failed attempts, I managed to speak to the De P family and obtained permission to bike up the valley through their land. My impression was that, while this permission might have been a little reluctantly given, it was appreciated that I bothered to ask, and was sensitive to keeping gates closed.

It only took me an hour to get from home to the trailhead bridge on the Highwood road. I was biking up the Flat Creek road before 7 a.m. on a perfect sunny morning. Flat Creek may be called Flat, but the beauty of it is that, while it feels flat going west up into the mountains, it is actually gradually climbing. So on the return journey, it is one long race at top speed and virtually no expended energy! Especially with the wind at one’s back – see later.

I kept up a steady pace westwards along the gravel road, through the meadows, for the first 8 km to the Kananaskis Country boundary (or “Kananaskis Boundry” as the old sign reads!). I passed a few cattle along this stretch, but as it turned out, most of the cattle had been driven further west to the remoter meadows beyond Wileman Creek. As always, it is an awesome experience heading up into the mountains along Flat Creek. The only difference from my last visit was that the trail from beyond the old gas well junction was in much worse shape due to hundreds of hoof prints from a muddy cattle drive, making the biking a little trickier.

As I was passing the old Kananaskis Country gate, a truck came along, driven by a cowboy complete with white Stetson. I politely waved and got a friendly wave back. My first thought was that it was the De P's checking up on me, but then I soon came up to the truck and found the cowboy across the field with a group of campers. It looked like they were packing up and so perhaps he was going to pick up their gear for them. Perhaps this might have been family or friends on a camping trip. I biked past, on the other side of the field so did not get to chat with them – and they were the last people I saw all day until returning to my car.

Continuing up the narrowing valley, I soon reached Head Creek. I had not stopped to explore this spot on my trip further up the valley last year. It is a very pretty scene. Here the Trap and Head creeks join together – two lively brooks making one larger and wider stream which eventually joins the Highwood River to the east. Just upstream along Flat Creek, the trail crosses over the creek at a ford. But here, just below the confluence, sits a perfect little campsite. It looks well used, probably by horse riders. This would have been a busy spot in the days when you could drive up here. Now it is peaceful and remote.

I followed the creek a few yards back in an easterly direction, wondering if there were other good camping spots – it was here where I had seen the two people last year, and they had been camping with their kids. Hidden in dense tree cover, was a secret camp. A large tent, capable of sleeping 20 people, was positioned in a clearing, and had everything needed for a permanent camp – cooking gear, corrals for horses, and so on. The camp was deserted. But this is where the family would have stayed, and I am sure it is the De P’s private wilderness campsite.

Biking back down the trail, I stopped at the trailhead for High Rock Ridge, and decided to change into my hiking gear and head up the trail. This was one of the earliest hikes I ever did in Alberta, back in 1982. I had been up this trail a couple of times since. Today the lower sections of the trail were in poor shape due to the cattle creating bog and mud on what used to be a good track. But higher up I left the cattle behind, and the trail was just fine. It curves up into a valley and then contours around the head of the valley, before switchbacking up onto a long, forested ridge. This is the ridge which dominates the middle ground as one bikes west up Flat Creek. The trail is getting quite overgrown with alders.

Once up on the ridge, there were bird’s eye views east across the foothills to the distant prairie and the tall skyscrapers of Calgary visible far to the northeast. This is as far as I got on my late season trip in October 2008. This time I continued along the ridge, which swings west. The trail emerges onto open ground, then crosses to the eastern slopes of High Rick Ridge, reaching its high point directly below the rocky summits of the ridge.

I left the trail here, and climbed the short grassy slope to the ridge, then across to a saddle below the south summit. To reach the summit one climbs a short scree slope and it’s a simple scramble to reach the top. Here a cairn sits among scattered bushes. The view all round is spectacular. The wind was now blowing hard, but there was no real sign of clouds appearing over the horizon.

In particular, one has a perfect view right into the depths of Head Creek valley from here. I have that remote valley on my list for this Fall, when it will be easier to handle the multiple creek crossings.

I carefully made my way north down the dropping ridgeline, to see if there was an obvious way off the ridge down into Trap Creek. There did not seem to be one, and there are no trails marked on the maps. As I reached the saddle below the north summit, I detected a possible way down off the ridge to the west. Not feeling inclined to climb another hill, I gave the north summit a miss and took a chance by dropping steeply off the ridge on grassy slopes towards the trees.

The journey back down to the Head Creek junction was uncomfortably similar to my Cabin Ridge nightmare of last year. However, this time it did not turn out the same. There are many more people wandering around these hills than there are down in the Oldman. Consequently I soon picked up a recognizable trail, having negotiated some very steep forested hillsides. From here on, there was really no question about the route, given some common sense.

A long, steep descent alongside a small stream, often crossing the stream to pick the flattest ground, eventually after several kilometers deposited me back at the campsite at the Head Creek-Flat Creek junction. Here I sat by the creek and bathed my hot feet in the frigid water. From here it was a pleasant stroll for a couple of kilometers back to my bike. The wind was now howling at my back, making the grass and the trees seem alive with movement.

Once back on my bike the rest of the trip was literally “plain sailing”. Especially when back on the good road, it was a matter of how fast my wheels could go round. I didn’t really need to pedal, but when I did, I just flew back down the road, and in less than an hour was back at the start. I stopped to relax by the dismantled old road bridge, before returning to the car.

It was a warm, sunny afternoon, the day before Canada Day, and a few people were heading west up the Highwood River to their campsites. A couple of friendly guys in a truck wanted to know if I had been out fishing, which is what they were planning to do.

I had ended up traveling over 40 km today, which had not been my original plan, but what better way to spend another perfect day than wandering around in this Alberta Paradise?

Statistics
Flat Ck & High Rock Ridge
Wed. 30 June

Total Dist. 12 km (hike) + 29.6 km (bike) = 41.6 km
Height Gain 1991 ft. (hike) + 950 ft. (bike) = 2941 ft.
Max. Elev. 7119 ft.
Time on trail 8 hrs. 40 mins.

Ram Fire Lookout

Sun. 27 June: Ram Lookout

This remote fire lookout was on my list of “most anticipated hikes” for 2010, and it didn’t disappoint. For a change I did not go alone, this time having my long-time hiking colleague JM along for this trip.

Having someone to chat to in the car certainly makes the time go by faster, so it seemed to take hardly any time at all to drive north up the Cowboy Trail – Highway 22 –to Rocky Mountain House. Being early morning the roads were almost traffic-free, except around Caroline, perhaps because of the traffic generated by the large gas plant in that area.

Just before Rocky Mountain House, we turned west onto a newly-paved highway which quickly took us into the foothills, past a large lake (Cow Lake) and then north for a few more kilometers to the end of the paved road.

The author of “Fire Lookout Hikes” (Mike Potter) makes some comment about half the adventure is getting to the trailhead. This was one of those trips! There were no signposts and my guidebook had not mentioned an eastern access to the start of this hike. But my detailed “Backroad Mapbook” showed a driveable road west into the mountains, so of course I took the gamble. As it turned out, there was a good gravel road, although it was posted as being a controlled logging road, with radios required.

Blissfully ignoring the dangers of being swept off the road by a speeding logging truck, we set out on a 48.5 km drive into the Brazeau Hills. I had carefully calculated this distance to the trailhead, but we were greatly helped by markers by the side of the road every kilometer with the distance on them. These are used by truck drivers to radio their position.

My calculations were spot-on, and right on 48.5 kilometres, we found the little turn-off in the forest beside the road where our hike would start. And just in case we had any doubt, there was a University of Sherbrooke van parked there – my guidebook had explained that there is a long-term project under way on the mountain to monitor bighorn sheep.

Without this pre-planning and reading, it would have been very easy to have missed the trailhead. There were no signs or gates, just a berm across a quad trail leading up onto the forested mountainside, literally right in the middle of nowhere.

So we confidently strode up the trail, on a fairly steep path through the trees. I had imagined that this was going to be a long, hot slog. I was wrong. After a kilometer or so, the trail curved to the left, and took a gentler angle up the mountainside for several kilometers, gradually climbing at a very walkable grade. No views yet, just a green forest and a good trail under foot.

As the trees began to thin out, we passed two quads parked on the side of the trail, at the point where the path reduced to a narrow walking track. This had once been a fire road, but was many years ago reclaimed. Now we were out above the trees heading across a steep open hillside, and up onto the top of the ridge. This was a magnificent place to hike, with views opening up to the Front Ranges and rolling green foothills – magnificent and lonely.

Now for the weary, the view from the ridge top might have been very disheartening. For ahead of us, a bare hillside soared upwards, and on the very top of the distant ridge sat the fire lookout building, looking very remote and high. The long ridge top was lined with snow drifts. But we were not particularly weary, and we felt as if we had entered a magical land. The cloudless sky was dark blue, and the ridge ahead was full of interesting small hilltops and clumps of trees, with the trail snaking upwards towards the lookout. J made good use of his excellent camera to snap the wildflowers which were finally starting to open up after the long, snowy Spring.

Now we left the last tree behind us and climbed up the stony trail which seemed to be heading straight for a huge snowdrift. But as we came to the next level of the ridge, there was a way through the drift and we curved around to the north side of the final hillside. Here were more spectacular ridgelines, with sweeping cliffs and a hidden valley. The road continued to curve to the right, coming up to the lookout building from the east, up a short final grassy hill.

In the warm sunshine today, the little building looked more like a holiday cottage than a rugged fire lookout. Hopefully it is well-anchored for the strong winds which usually blow across this exposed mountaintop. After a minute or so, the door opened, and a young woman wearing a headscarf came out with a clipboard and introduced herself as Joanne, and could we please sign the form. “They’ll be asking for IDs next” she said half-jokingly.

By now the wind had picked up, so she invited us onto the lookout deck out of the wind, and we had a nice chat. She was interested to know where we were from, and seemed to be impressed that we had started in Calgary that morning and it was still not yet 11 am! We were fourth and fifth up there this year. Apparently right up until a few days ago, the snow drift which we had encountered below the final hillside had been of enormous size and had totally blocked all access, so people had come that far then turned around. There are a lot of quad drivers who come up here, evidenced by the trails all over the hillside.

Joanne told us that her dog would usually have greeted us but it had been “mauled by a marmot” and was recovering inside. She is from Halifax and loves the contrast between the Maritime coastlines and the remote Alberta mountaintop. She pointed out the location of the other lookouts: Limestone, Baseline, Baldy. She knew Harvey at Carbondale Lookout and told me she would give him a call to check if he got my package which I had left for him from the lady at Ironstone Lookout the day before.

I sensed that she didn’t really want to have a very long chat, as it was a bit cold standing out there, so after a short while we said goodbye and started down the hill. But we were not finished with hill climbing yet! Across the saddle from the lookout stands an enticing hill, reached by a short ridge with a tiny scramble at the top.

We were soon at the top, where a stone cairn had been erected in memory of four soldiers of Princess Patricia’s Light Infantry, whose names were carved on a post inserted in the top of the cairn. The views from here were superb. Towards the mountains, clouds were starting to roll eastwards, suggesting showers later in the afternoon. To the north one could see the North Saskatchewan River snaking its way through the gap in the Brazeau Range. Visibility was not perfect, but it was sufficient to provide an awesome all-round view and eastwards out to the prairies.

The lookout, across the saddle to the east, might have been a lone island standing out from a wide, deep ocean. In some ways these bare, open ridgetops reminded me of some Scottish hills I have climbed. Looking back from the east, these two summits connected by a saddle, are a prominent feature on the western horizon, perhaps a little like Hallival and Askival on Rhum, or Ben More and Stobinian.

Returning down onto the saddle, I could not resist walking right across the large melting snowdrift. I paid for it by finding the ground below the drift to be soft mud! I got some great shots of J striding down the mountain with snow on each side and small clouds dotting the blue sky above.

Our journey down the mountain was easy and enjoyable. We decided not to stop at the interesting sheep corral on a connecting ridge spur. Here in the trees was a wooded enclosure where the sheep are enticed by salt, and a white shed where the students live. Apparently they change personnel each year. This year there are two students living up there, one from Quebec and one from France.

It was a bit of a relief to once again enter the forest, after being exposed to a bright sun up on the open mountainsides. An uneventful return down the trails brought us safely back to the car. In the morning we had not met one vehicle along this logging road. On the return, we met an ambulance racing along with siren blazing, and later a police car also heading west. J suggested that I might have pressed the wrong button on my SPOT GPS device and L had called for reinforcements! Perhaps there had been an incident at a gas well? We could only speculate.

After stopping in Rocky Mountain House for gas and a donut, we made a fast return home on busier but manageable roads. Today’s adventure had required a lot of driving, but we both felt it was well worth the effort for the reward of standing up there on a remote Alberta mountain top under a blue sky, chatting about Nova Scotia with yet another friendly lookout observer!


Statistics
Ram Lookout
Sun. 27 June

Total Dist. 14 km (hike)
Height Gain 2580 ft.
Max. Elev. 7129 ft.
Time on trail 5 hrs. 9 mins.