Tent Ridge and Tryst Lake

Fri. 24 September: Tent Ridge/Tryst Lake
At last! A good weather forecast. Six bright suns in a row on the weather channel’s weekly outlook should pretty well guarantee a perfect outing into the mountains, I thought. Wrong again!

Since I was planning a two day adventure, I met up with my hiking colleague J and we headed west in a two car convoy this morning. The red sky to the east should have warned us that once again the forecasters had their calculations wrong. There was plenty of cloud in the sky as we drove down the Kananaskis Valley and west onto the gravel Smith-Dorrien Highway.

We slowed for a coyote ambling along on the side of the road at the winter gate, and then admired a large bull moose strolling across the Chester Lake car park on its way up the trail. Soon we had turned off the road at Mt. Engadine Lodge and had found the grassy parking area beside the Shark Mountain helicopter base access road.

Today our goal was the challenging Tent Ridge horseshoe, tackled in a clockwise direction. The outward trail started a couple of hundred metres down the road, and we would return down a trail ending directly opposite our parking area – if we were to navigate the complete horse-shoe.

As we started down the road, we were stopped by a young couple in a car who asked if we had seen any wildlife. We were able to tell them about the coyote and the moose, and also about several other moose grazing in the meadows below Mt. Engadine Lodge. Now we turned up into the trees on a steep, grassy logging road. This might have been a tricky route to follow, but the trail was obvious, if narrow.

Soon we were above the snowline, with the snow-covered trail not so easy to detect in the forest. Turning left, we continued upwards, above an unseen Monica Brook. The trees started to thin out, giving early views of the horse-shoe ridge ahead of us. Crossing the upper section of Monica Brook, it was a little disconcerting to find fresh bear paw prints on the trail, heading towards us – somehow we had luckily missed a head-on encounter with what looked to be a mother black bear and cub.

Now the trees opened right up to reveal a wide, bare valley, ringed by our ridge, all covered in a good coating of new snow. There seemed to be no safe way up onto the ridge. Following the trail, we curved to the left and headed back into the trees at a well-blazed entry point. By climbing up to the left, it was a simple job to reach a lower part of the long bare ridge, by climbing a rocky scree slope dotted with colorful larches. Once on the ridge, we turned upwards for the long scramble to the summit. Already the views were fine, of the Spray Lakes below, and the horse-shoe ridge to west and north.

The snow made our journey upwards quite slippery, and in a couple of places we were climbing over steep rocky sections, which were easy enough going upwards, but a different proposition as a return route. Holding our nerve, we clambered upwards, finally making the wind-blown lower summit. Far from being a bright sunny day, this was turning out to be a bitterly cold winter’s day up here above 8000 feet. The clouds were dropping below the summits, and snow pellets were being driven into our faces by a gale force wind. Altogether not a pleasant place to linger. The views were limited today, but what we were able to see was spectacular enough.

By hiding behind the orange weather station on the summit, we were able to take a breather and also to take stock of our plans. Ahead of us was a drop to a col, followed by a long ascent to a higher summit, followed by the tricky navigation of the other half of the horse-shoe ridge. The guide book offered an “escape route” down off the ridge at the col below, and a return via Tryst Lake. We decided to take this offer.

However, despite searching for a trail leading off the ridge at the col, there was no trail to be seen. So we plunged down though the trees at the very lowest section of the col – a logical starting point for any trail. We never found the trail. Instead we carefully descended over 800 vertical feet of tricky, slippery, steep forest, to the very upper end of the Tryst Lake valley.

Here in the valley we were standing below a bare mountain wall, with an impressive cliff face soaring up into the sky above us. The scattered larches made this a grand place to be. Turning down the valley, we soon came to the small lake, whose name apparently commemorates a pair of lovers who visited there one snowy June day.

This is definitely the right direction to reach Tryst Lake. The trail back down to the valley floor was long and often steep. We overtook two women from (I think) Quebec, who were carefully descending the trail. They were interested in my MICROSpikes. J too had brought along some yak-traks which were a different design but seemed to work quite well. They were a great help on these steep slippery trails.

Leaving the woods at a large cairn, we turned left onto a wide grassy fire road, leading to a parking area. Turning up onto the road to the helicopter base, we were soon back at the car, with a steady drizzle starting to take hold. There was no sign of the sunny skies we had been expecting. Nevertheless this had been yet another exciting and challenging day in the mountains. We vowed to return next summer to tackle the other half of this horse-shoe.

J headed back to Calgary in his car, while I turned left onto the Smith-Dorrien Highway and continued westwards for further adventures. At the far end of the Spray Lakes, I turned across the dam, and back along the other side of the reservoir to check out the West Spray Lakes campsite. It would be a good place to camp, I thought, with sites strung along beside the waters of this long lake. At the far end I saw two Kananaskis Country trucks blocking the road. Not thinking anything about it, I turned around and continued my journey west to Canmore. Later I saw on the Kananaskis Country website that they had just closed the campsite due to bears in the area!!!

Stopping in Canmore for some camping supplies, I then continued west along the Trans-Canada Highway to Banff. Tonight I would camp at Tunnel Mountain campsite. This turned out to be a very pleasant camping area, in the trees. It was surprising to me that the loop for tenters almost filled up during the evening. There are still a lot of tourists from all over the world visiting Banff National Park at this time of year. The forecast of “perfect weather” probably also attracted gullible Calgarians such as myself. By now a full gale was blowing through the campsite. The skies cleared later that evening to reveal a bright moon. The weather was finally improving.

Statistics
Tent Ridge/Tryst Lake
Fri. 24 September

Total Dist. 9 km (hike)
Height Gain 1870 ft.
Max. Elev. 8104 ft.
Time on trail 5 hrs. 0 mins.

The Bears of Bluerock

Fri./Sat. 17/18 September:
The Bears of Bluerock

It was bound to happen. Given all my hiking trips around the Canadian Rockies, it was just a matter of time until I would run into a bear on the trail – and so it happened today.

Yet, given the weather, one could forgive any bear for thinking it would have the place to itself this weekend. For this was yet another miserable week of rain and snow in the mountains, followed by a discouraging forecast for more rain all weekend. Then right at the last moment, on Friday, the forecast was changed to suggest a brief weather window on Friday night through Saturday morning – it would be cold but sunny.

This was enough to get me moving quickly after work on Friday to pack the car and head out to the Sheep River. It had been a wet day, and there was plenty of cloud, but by 5.30 pm I was driving west out of the city with the expectation of an overnight camp followed by a good hike on the Saturday.

What a contrast between the eastern entrance to the Sheep valley and the western end at the mountain wall. At one end, gentle rolling ranching country, with a display of Fall colors in the trees. At the other end, a wintry scene of snow-capped peaks and forested hillsides covered by a coating of icing sugar-snow. Over the past few hours, up to four inches of snow had fallen around the Bluerock campsite, and the temperatures were dropping as the skies started to clear.

Not surprisingly, apart from a couple of large camping trailers, I had the entire campsite to choose from. I was soon sitting in front of a warm fire enjoying my Somerset Maugham short stories – and a packet of double-cream Oreo cookies! The campsite attendant, a friendly middle-aged lady called Judy, dropped by to check things out. She was despondent about the weather as it was bad for business. Small family companies often run these campsites, and they rely on busy weekends to make money. There would be no money made this weekend, and the campsite closes after the October long weekend. She told me that a black bear and three cubs had been seen on Indian Oils trail - later she returned to say that it was in fact at Bighorn picnic site, much further east. We had a good chat about my planned hike the next morning. She seemed anxious to be sure she knew where I was going in case help was needed.

It was a cold night, under clear skies. Inside the tent I was warm and cosy and slept well.

The morning light turned bright pink for a few minutes. My plan today was to drive a few hundred yards west to the equestrian campsite, to leave my car there and bike east down the Sheep River Road to the start of the Indian Oils trail. I would then hike a long twenty kilometer loop into a mountain wilderness, ending up back at the car.

The first part worked as planned. I biked down the road, wearing winter gear – two wooly hats on my head. Leaving the bike at the start of the trail, opposite Sheep River Falls, I set out by foot on the Indian Oils Trail. In a short while, this trail joins an eastern branch, and the combined trail heads northwards up a fairly steep side creek. I was soon up into the snow level. The trees here were covered with snow, although the trail itself was bare, but muddy. Snowy peaks rose up above the ridge-line.

Taking my usual precautions, as I climbed the trail, I shook my pebble-tin noise maker and generally gave warning to any wildlife in the area. After about a kilometer climbing up the trail, I heard a sudden noise in the bushes about fifty yards ahead of me. I half saw and half sensed the movement of one or two bear cubs as they made sudden scratching noises as they climbed up into nearby trees. The mother bear came into sight, looking down the trail towards me.

I spoke in normal tones to the bear so it could recognize I was a human. Usually this is enough for bears – particularly black bears - to slip away. But this mother bear had no intention of going anywhere. She had her cubs with her, and nobody was going to get any closer than they were now. I tried to explain to her that she was being a “bloody nuisance” as I wanted to travel up the trail and she was in my way and would she mind getting the hell out of the way – and so on. She started to come down the trail towards me making a very quiet chuntering noise. There was no choice. Reluctantly I turned around and quietly exited back down the trail. She seemed satisfied with my decision and did not try to hurry me along.

Back down at the trail junction, I tied some red blaze tape between two trees across the trail and scrawled the word “BEAR” on the signpost with a small rock – not having a pen handy. The bears had looked as if they were heading down in this direction, and although it was unlikely today that any other foolhardy hiker would be traveling this remote trail, I thought it best to leave the warning sign anyway.

So now, with my day’s plan so rudely disrupted, I had to decide on an alternate scheme. Trudging east, I followed the other leg of Indian Oils trail to the Sheep River road, through some pretty woods, and then walked back westwards along the road to my bike.

Returning on my bike to the car, I decided to hike part way along my planned trail, starting from the opposite end. I knew that I would not now have time to hike the whole way around – nor did I want to go anywhere near Indian Oils trail again. But I knew I could get some of the way along Bluerock Creek trail and up onto the ridge. So it turned out.

Bluerock Creek trail starts in the equestrian campsite behind the corral. Today it was empty, but this is a very popular place for horse riders. The trail for the first two kilometers or so is a slightly “pedestrian” plod up a fire road through the trees. However, it was made more interesting today by a good fall of snow - four to six inches - on the trail and on the trees.

Eventually I came out into a clearing, with stunning mountains rising up all around, and a mist hanging around halfway up the snow-clad mountain slopes. It was a spectacular scene. I might have stopped for a while at the lone picnic table, except that it had a six inch covering of new snow!

Leaving the clearing, I made my way through a dense snowy forest – another entrance to Narnia I thought. Then the trail took a turn to the right, and dived down a steep forested slope to the creek below.

Luckily the trail sensibly zig-zagged down the hillside, but it was wretchedly muddy and snow-covered. At the creek below was a footbridge – or the remnants of one. This bridge had collapsed in a past flood, and now lay in the creek, a jumbled ruin of wood and nails. Luckily the creek was easily forded, using my rapid-solution dry-bag technique!

But of course, having descended to the creek, the trail now had to climb up the other side, on equally trying steep and slippery slopes. My MicroSpikes once again proved their worth. After some hard uphill work, I reached a more open area of ridge, being the lower slopes of Bluerock Mountain. Here the views across the Bluerock Valley were superb. The skies were mostly clear to the west, with little arms of mist drifting along halfway up the mountains. It was altogether a magical place made even more so by the new fall of snow. But this was only a very temporary weather window. Already a new mist was rising up the valley from the east. In a very short space of time, it had started to swallow up the sky.

I decided that I had done enough today. I had reached a logical turning point, although still perhaps a kilometer from the top of the ridge. I told myself that I would return next year to complete this challenging circuit. But given that we were due at J and C’s for dinner at 6pm, it was time to think of my stomach and turn around.

As the mist swirled around, it caused an instant rise in temperatures and a melting of the snow. The snow and ice dropped from the trees above me almost like a rain. As usual, the return journey took no time at all, and I was soon back at the car. I had noticed new paw prints on the trail, and also hoof prints. In the car park was a horse-box, so I had probably just missed seeing a rider and their dog. I saw nobody else all day.

Returning to the campsite, I bumped into Judy and her husband, and shared with them details of my encounter with the bear. After packing up the tent, I headed east, stopping at Indian Oils trailhead to add a warning note on the sign.

The Sheep River valley is a spectacular place to visit at this time of year. It was a strange feeling so easily to ascend into winter, then simply to drop down again into a gentle world of green and gold.

But now it was time to put bears behind me and consider a large dinner with our friends!


Statistics
Indian Oils/Bluerock Ck.
Sat. 18 September

Total Dist. 11 km (hike) + 5 km (bike) = 16 km
Height Gain 1500 ft.
Max. Elev. 6320 ft.
Time on trail 5 hrs. 0 mins.

Paget Peak Puffer

Fri. 10 September: Paget Lookout and Paget Peak

Finally nabbed Paget fire lookout! And then a lot more.

Back in May I had attempted a trip to Paget lookout, just across the Continental Divide in Yoho National Park. But the snow was just too deep and there was no sign of a trail. So instead I snow-shoed up to Sherbrooke Lake which was still frozen over.

Today, J and I had no problem following the excellent trail up to the lookout - but we did not stop there. In the end we slogged (or puffed) our way to the 8,415 ft. summit of a wild and rocky Paget Peak.

Since we had to travel just over 200 km from the city to the start of this hike, we were on the road well before dawn. Two hundred kilometers westwards through the Rocky Mountains is no burden. Traffic was steady, thinning out west of Banff. There was an overcast sky, but we had confidence in the forecast of sunshine. The road-works west of Castle Junction will take another year to complete, but they were busy grading and paving even at 7.30 in the morning as we passed slowly by.

Our trail started at West Louise Lodge, just across the Alberta-BC border, beside Wapta Lake. The Lodge had closed until November 5th for renovation.

The familiar trail contoured up the forested hillside, from the highway. It took us only twenty five minutes to reach the Sherbrooke Lake/Paget Lookout trail junction. Today, with no deep snow to contend with, the Paget trail was plain to see. This narrow pathway switch-backed up the lower slopes of Paget Peak, taking a very nicely graded line up the hillsides. In less than an hour from the Sherbrooke Lake junction, we had arrived at the lookout building. Along the way, we had a few sprinkles of snow, but nothing serious.

Yoho National Park made a decision many years ago to preserve their three fire lookouts intact, when they decommissioned them back in the nineteen seventies. So today, Paget Lookout, together with Mt. Hunter and Tocher Ridge lookouts, is a perfect refuge from the weather. Unlike the fully furnished Tocher, this lookout (as Mt. Hunter) is an empty weather-proof cabin except for some benches, and a broom in the corner. Apart from some names written on the white interior walls, it is clear that hikers have over the decades respected these refuges, which is good to see.

Paget Lookout sits halfway up Paget Peak on a flat section of ridge, with a bird’s eye view back down to Wapta Lake, and across to the mountains and glaciers surrounding the Lake O’Hara area. To the west, one has a grand view down the Kicking Horse valley to Field and beyond.

And there was our promised “weather window” approaching over the mountains. A line of blue sky was advancing from the west, pushing away the clouds overhead. An hour or so later, as we toiled up the mountainside, the sun came out and lit up the scene all round.

After relaxing for a short while inside the lookout building, we decided to hike a little way up the tempting mountainside above, for a better view. These decisions are always dangerous! Having slogged up the first section of rocky slopes, we were faced with another peak ahead. Of course, we should make it to the top, we decided, since it didn’t look THAT far. And so on. In the end, we puffed our way up a wild and rocky Paget Peak to the very summit at around 8400 ft. The last section required a scramble over large and smaller rocks, interspersed with slippery scree and loose rock.

From below, this peak was deceptive. It really didn’t look too far at all, but in reality it was another 1400 vertical feet above the lookout, was very steep and rough, and seemed to grow larger as we approached the final summit.

Luckily the weather held, and so we clambered onto a dramatic ridge top, with sudden drops all around, and remnants of snow drifts along the ridges. We could see several glaciers in all directions. The sound of a train horn came drifting up from the valley, and we could see a long Canadian Pacific freight train snaking around Wapta Lake far below. Up here at well over 8000 feet, I felt very exposed, and seeing a new cloud front moving in on the cold wind, was happy to start back down again.

This was not an easy task. Clambering down through a jumble of massive rocks required careful attention. The rocks were particularly hard and spiky and so we stopped to put on our gloves to avoid getting “rock punctures” in our hands. To slip would have been nasty. Back down off the upper summit, we stopped briefly to admire the view down to Sherbrooke Lake. This glacial green lake sits to the west of Paget Peak in a narrow valley, and is on the exit route from the large ice-dome to the north – a trip M did last winter.

The slopes were long and steep, but we made it safely back to the lookout hut. Here we relaxed for a while before heading back down the path to the car. We noticed the first signs of Fall colors in the bushes and trees. I thought that we were bound to meet other hikers today, but we saw nobody else all day – just distant traffic far below us, snaking along the Trans-Canada Highway down the Kicking Horse Pass.

Back at the Lodge, we stepped back to catch a glimpse of the summit of Paget Peak, far above us in the sky, wondering how we had ever had the energy to make it all the way to the top.

We returned to Calgary, avoiding most of the road works by gliding along the peaceful Highway 1A as far as Castle Junction. Since my last trip, the old access road to the Icefields Parkway had been replaced by a new bridge, and this section of road should be completed before winter.

Passing Sulphur Mountain, we carefully eyed the old fire road up the west side of the mountain – looking for our next trek in the National Parks. But we had done enough hiking for one day – in fact, more than we had planned!


Statistics
Paget Peak
Fri. 10 September

Total Dist. 10.4 km (hike)
Height Gain 3117 ft.
Max. Elev. 8415 ft.
Time on trail 5 hrs. 23 mins.

Mt. Kidd Lookout

Mon. 6 September: Mt. Kidd Lookout

Not a long hike, but a strenuous one - made trickier by a new fall of snow.

This steep trail runs straight up the lower slopes of Mt. Kidd, that impressive 9,705 ft. mountain which towers above Kananaskis Village. This isn’t an “official” trail, but there is a well-marked path which takes you there.

The summer of 2010 has been unlike a typical Alberta summer – unsettled and wet. And so it continued into this Labor Day long weekend. When it finally cleared this morning, there was a good layer of new snow down to 2000 metres. Driving into the mountains this morning we were treated to low lying mists, with a snow-covered panorama of mountain peaks. Since J had to drive, I was kept busy snapping away with my camera. It could hardly have been a more impressive sight as we raced west towards the Kananaskis Country turnoff on the Trans-Canada Highway.

Parking at the Kananaskis Village, we set out on the paved Terrace trail, then turned uphill onto the wide Kovach trail, into the trees. It was only a degree above freezing, and so we were warmly dressed. Higher up, it was below freezing, and in the wind it felt plain wintry.

This was a grizzly bear and black bear hot spot, especially during this berry-eating season. Signs were posted on our trail warning of “bear in the area”. So we made enough noise to scare them away, or to let them know there was bear food on the trail!

After a couple of kilometers on pleasant forest trails, we turned into the trees at a tiny pile of stones. From here a narrow trail rose up the mountainside on an unremittingly steep and direct assault on the grassy summit just short of 2000 vertical feet above the village. The trail was wet, and a little slippery. Making plenty of stops, we slowly but surely conquered this hill. Coming out of the trees we slogged up a long and steep grassy slope, up into the snowline. Finally the trail curved slightly to the right, leading to the northeast ridgeline. Already the views were stunning. The green Kananaskis Valley was spread out below us, with the village and golf course prominent. To the south there was a display of jagged snowy mountain peaks.

The final section remained steep and snow-covered, as it contoured up onto the ridge-top. Right on the front edge of the ridge was the concrete base of the old fire lookout building.

Perhaps surprisingly, given Alberta’s long history of fire lookouts, the Mt. Kidd lookout was only built in the Fall of 1981 – at the time of my first visit to Alberta. By 1997 it had been removed, and they never did build a proper road or path up to the lookout. But what a location! The 360 degree views were stunning. The hilltop, snow covered today but usually a green grassy ridge in summer, leads south to the northern ramparts of Mt. Kidd. To the east lies the Kananaskis Valley far below, and to the west, the deep forested valleys of Ribbon Creek, and North Ribbon Creek – our route to Memorial Lakes two weeks previously. Today the mountains were all covered in new snow, and looking very wild and wintry.

This was an ideal place for a photo session. Even the worst photographer could not have taken a bad picture up here. J of course, being an accomplished photographer, took some stunningly beautiful shots.

Then it was time for the slippery descent back to the village. My MicroSpikes had their first outing since last Spring, and once again they proved their value. This was a very steep and muddy trail, and I felt as safe as if I was walking down the high street. J plans to walk down the high street this week to buy his own set of MicroSpikes. It will be money well spent.

So it did not take us very long to get back to the car, meeting only one middle-aged couple on the lower forest trails – glad to know we had scared any bears away with our hullaballoo-ing. The clouds had started to build fairly quickly during our descent, and as we drove out of the valley, a few showers were breaking out – yet another indication of the unsettled summer of 2010.

Nevertheless, we had notched up yet another fire lookout location, and in the process quite possibly have declared the winter hiking season open with still two weeks to go before the end of summer!

Statistics
Mt. Kidd Lookout
Mon. 6 September

Total Dist. 7.2 km (hike)
Height Gain 1900 ft.
Max. Elev. 6905 ft.
Time on trail 4 hrs. 0 mins.