Picture of the Week

Sat. 26 March:  Silly signs

 Left:  Whatever lake is up that remote trail, we weren't going to get there with all that snow.  In fact it was Rawson Lake, tucked under the Great Divide.

Right:  Here's a signpost buried in the snow in the middle of the boulder field above the Upper Kananaskis Lake. It was hard enough getting here with snow-shoes on. As for bikes, forget it!

Snow-shoe Country

Sat. 26 March:  Upper Kananaskis Lake

If it’s foggy or snowy in Calgary, you can bet that it’s different in the mountains.  Today proved the point.  It was a miserable misty morning in the city, with light snow falling, but down at the Kananaskis Lakes, the sun was shining.

Nevertheless, winter was still in full force down there, with huge accumulations of snow everywhere, and the lakes frozen over and snow-covered.  People were still enjoying ideal conditions on the ski hills and on the cross-country ski trails.  Today J and I had decided to try a snow shoe trip around the Upper Lake.  Although we did not succeed, we had an awesome day snow-shoeing beneath the Great Divide.

We ended up doing two separate trips, the first along the south side of the Upper Lake, and the second trip above the  northern shore.  The lake is ringed by gigantic snowy mountains.  The southern skyline is the Great Divide and the border between Alberta and BC.  The clouds mostly hid the summits, but there was plenty of blue sky overhead.

The Upper Lakes car park was piled ten feet high with snow, but there was room for a few cars to park.  The two washrooms were almost buried by the drifts.  The trail around the lake was immediately scenic, with views out across the wide lake to the mountains surrounding it.  The trail was packed down, and so we made good progress as far as the footbridge across Sarrail Creek, and the junction for the Rummel Lake trail. 

After this, the trail became harder to navigate, and soon petered out.  Instead of a trail, there were just deep snow drifts between the trees on the steeply sloping mountainside just above the edge of the frozen lake.  We considered walking along the lake itself, but there was no trail and we were not convinced this would be a safe route.  It was clear that we would not be able to go much further, and we would soon come to a series of dangerous and steep avalanche slopes. 

So we turned around, and made our way back along the trail to the car.  It was a sensible decision.  We had hoped to reach Hidden Lake, but that would have been another four kilometres along an impossible route.

As we walked back along the trail, we heard the sound of a small engine, perhaps a chain saw.  We wondered who might be cutting down trees on a winter Saturday.  Then as we came around the corner, we could see a party of ice fishermen out on the lake, drilling through the surface to reach the water below.  They were setting up for an enjoyable afternoon of fishing out on the frozen lake.

Back at the car, we then drove around to the Interlakes parking area, on the north side of the Lake.  Here we would travel west above the lake, below the steep slopes of Mt. Indefatigable.  A couple of snow-shoers were preparing to head out, and a lone backpacker was just setting off up the trail with a heavy pack.  He told us that he was heading out to the remote Forks campsite, and he was loaded down with beer!  A very adventurous person.  He’d need to do a lot of shoveling of snow just to make space for a tent.

This was snow-shoe country today.  The snow had drifted across the trail, and despite several people having been up the trail in recent days, the snow was deep and the only way to travel was with a pair of ‘shoes.

We decided to take the higher route on the outward journey, and so we steadily ploughed our way through the trees, gradually gaining height.  We crossed two narrow avalanche paths, before coming to the start of the huge boulder field.  Here we were faced with a wide and steep area of packed snow.  The surface was hard and a bit icy, so we removed our ‘shoes and put on our ‘spikes.  This was a safer way to cross the slope. 

Above us the steep snowy mountainside rose up to the ridge high above us.  Ahead of us to the west were the spectacular peaks of Lyautey and Putnik, their peaks hidden in the clouds.  Below us to the left was the Upper Lake and the Great Divide behind it.  From here, we could see how foolhardy it would have been to force our way along the south side trail.  Several avalanche slopes descended vertically, it seemed, straight down across the trail into the lake.

So now we were at the junction with the Forks trail, high above the lake, with the boulder field spread out below us.  Except that it was actually a smooth snowfield, with the deep snow covering even the largest boulders.  We dropped down the hill, past the viewpoint bench, which was completely covered by the snow.  Following some earlier traveler, we snaked across the open ground, to another equally spectacular, but lower, viewpoint above the lake.  This was an ideal spot for a picnic lunch, in the natural amphitheatre of mountains.  A small avalanche thundered down Mt. Lyautey opposite us.

Before the lake had frozen, the waters had dropped dramatically, and the islands seemed to sit up by perhaps twenty or thirty feet more than normal.  But of course it was all a big frozen scene, with no sign of Spring thaw yet.

As we prepared to return  eastwards above the lake, a group of four young people passed by us on their way to the Kananaskis Falls, making good progress on their ‘shoes.  We followed the lower path, back through the forest.  This trail had been nicely packed down.  Snow-shoeing is perhaps one of the better ways of getting a good workout, and by the time we returned to the car, we had both done as much as we wanted to do.  It’s always tempting to keep going a bit further, sometimes underestimating the effort needed to get back again.  Today we had it figured right. 

A breeze had sprung up as were having our lunch, and it soon turned into a strong westerly wind.  It felt warm.  Perhaps finally, some Spring weather might be blowing across the mountains to unfreeze a wintry Aberta.  Or perhaps that is just wishful thinking!   

Statistics
Upper Kananaskis Lakes
Sat. 26 March
Total Dist.	1.3 km (hike)   +   8.7 km (‘shoe) = 10.0 km
Height Gain	200 ft.
Max. Elev.	5,800 ft.
Time	5 hrs. 01 min.

Picture of the Week

Sun. 20 March: Sam the Banjo Cat

Many years ago he was known as "Sam the Piano Cat", but now in his old age, he prefers the comfort of M's banjo case.

(The Aussies might call him Banjo Cat-erson)

Picture of the Week

Fri. 11 March: Snow laughing matter

This is what it looks like when you trip up on your cross-country skis and land face down in a deep snow drift somewhere on a remote leg of the Sheep River ski trails!! One bent ski pole was the only damage, happily to relate.

The Inkpots Trail

Sat. 12 March: The Inkpots Trail

This mountain trail in Banff Park is a popular destination, year round. A steep snow-packed trail up into a remote Rocky Mountain valley will not guarantee that you will have the place to yourself. As usual, however, it always helps to make an early start.

J and I left Calgary at 6.30 a.m., a good half hour ahead of sunrise. We enjoyed the orange glow to the east, and the pink color of the clouds ahead. It promised to be a sunny day in the mountains, and close to the freezing point. An ideal day for downhill skiers who, even this early, were racing westwards in large numbers to the mountain slopes.

After almost getting stuck in the Johnston Canyon motel parking area, we were first to arrive at the proper parking lot just across the river, and were soon marching up the icy path into Johnston Canyon. We carried our snow shoes, but did not need them as the path was packed down. Our cleats (my MICROspikes and J’s Yaktrax) were ideal for these conditions.

Johnston Canyon at any time of year is justifiably popular. It is an exciting stroll up the canyon, on walkways suspended to the sides of the cliff, and the waters racing down the twisting route below. In winter, it has its own magic. The river is mostly frozen over, but with many open sections. The cliffs are plastered with snow and ice, hanging in sheets. At the waterfalls, the extent of the ice was breathtaking. There were huge walls of what looked very like pipes from some gigantic frozen church organ. The steep slopes of the canyon walls were littered with dangerous avalanche paths of rocks and stones falling from above.

At the Lower Falls (“chutes inferieur”) the waters had fallen almost, but not quite, silent, the falls now one huge slab of ice. The tunnel to the front of the falls was coated in a layer of frost. Higher up, the Upper Falls (“chutes superieur”) were even more spectacular. Huge columns of ice stretched up to the cliffs high above. It was obvious that people come here in large numbers to climb these ice mountains, and it would be a grand sight to see them pull themselves up the soaring columns with their ice axes.

Finally at the top of the upper falls, we stood on the dangerous platform looking far down into the pool below, where water still made its way to the bottom. Here we felt very much like explorers in a world of ice.

Now most people will turn around at this point, returning down the canyon. It would be rare to have the place to oneself, as we had today.

The Inkpots Trail made its way up the forested slopes, and away from the canyon. There had been several hikers up this snowy path since the last snowfall, and so we found it easy going with our boots and spikes. But if you stepped even slightly off the path, you would sink into deep and soft snow.

Like most of the classic trails in the National Parks, this one was thoughtfully graded, following a gentle angle as it twisted and turned up the huge mountainside, but with very few views through the trees.

A high point was reached, and somewhat to our surprise – since we had not carefully studied the guidebooks – the trail now descended into the valley ahead. This would add some effort on the way back, we thought. It was at this high point that we were a little surprised to be overtaken by a group of four young Brits – unmistakable by their accents – possibly army judging by their haircuts. They were making good time.

We dropped down into a grand mountain valley, surrounded by enormous jagged peaks, half hidden in the cloud. There was deep snow lying on the valley floor, which was a very pretty scene with scattered trees and open meadows. Here were the Inkpots, several small open pools of water, surrounded by deep snow. There was a stream running through some of the pools, and at the bottom of each pool, spring water was bubbling up through the mud.

This was an ideal place to stop for a picnic lunch. The valley stretched to the north, looking very grand and remote. To the east was a jagged peak which apparently has not yet been named. J very kindly suggested it could be called after The Passionate Hiker, but I doubt we would have the final word on that!

The 115 uphill metres to the high point on the pathway were accomplished easily enough. After that, it was plain sailing downhill the whole way. I put on my snow shoes for more fun – and to beat down the path for upcoming travelers. And soon enough, they started to appear, in growing numbers. First an elderly couple on skis, then several snow-shoers. Further down Moose Meadows trail, we passed about 20 kids on snow shoes with their teacher at the back, who smilingly proclaimed that he had the “smaller group” with him today.

It was a fast descent, and an enjoyable trip down through the trees on an old fire road, then down and down gentle slopes until finally we came out at Moose Meadows car park. From here it was a fast 1.8 km stroll along the snow-packed Highway 1A which mercifully was not very busy with traffic. Behind us the ramparts of Castle Mountain soared into the now blue sky.

Back at the car park, we found a lively scene, with streams of tourists heading up the slippery snow-packed trail into Johnston Canyon, some dressed as if ready for a shopping trip to the mall. By now, at least, it was a relatively warm sunny day.

It was a smooth ride back out of the mountains and into the city, where the sun was shining, and the mountains looked grand on the western horizon.


Statistics
Johnston Canyon/Inkpots
Sat. 12 March

Total Dist. 8.9 km (hike) + 4.8 km (snow shoe) = 13.7 km
Height Gain 1,460 ft.
Max. Elev. 5,774 ft.
Time on trail 4 hrs. 56 mins.

The Weather Window

Fri. 11 March: Sandy McNabb Ski Trails
Now the warmer temperatures are here, but I’m not ready for them yet! I really wanted one more good outing on my cross-country skis. And temperatures below about 10 degrees C are ideal for waxing and snow conditions.

But the forecast for the next week was for above zero – apart from early on Friday when it would still be around minus 11 degrees! That was enough for me. I was up early and on the road before dawn, anxious to grab what might be the last really good burst of a long, cold winter.

It had snowed overnight in the Sheep Valley, and I was lucky that the snow-plough was somewhere ahead of me clearing and gritting the road. A few minutes later, there he was, hurtling down the road towards me on his way back out to Turner Valley, leaving a well-ploughed road behind him.

I was on the trail soon after 7 a.m., the sun having just risen. Today I would explore some of the Sandy McNabb ski trails which I had not ski’d last time I was here in December. There were about 2 to 3 inches of new snow on the trail, covering a crusty surface, caused by well above zero temperatures the day before. Luckily all these trails had been track-set just a week ago, so there was almost a tramline of crusted snow-covered ski trail to follow most of the way round. The tricky thing was controlling one’s speed on the downhill sections.

My route took me westwards along Long Prairie Loop, which made its way up a pretty valley, then northeast on Balsam Link, before heading up to the viewpoints on Pine Ridge Trail and so back down Macabee Creek, perhaps 9 km in total. These gentle, forested foothills make the perfect cross-country skiing terrain, and scenery. When the snow is good, such as now, it makes for a very enjoyable adventure.

Balsam Link starts off easily enough as it threads through the forest, but then it starts to climb a long hill, finally reaching the top of a forested ridge. Although the air temperature was around minus 13 degrees C at the start, the snow temperature measured only minus 5 degrees. I picked the right wax. It allowed me to climb these long hills quite easily, only herring-boning up the steepest parts.

Turning left onto Pine Ridge, I followed the crest of the hillside until I came up to the two viewpoints. Here were two clearings in the trees, the first with a low bench and the second with a picnic table. It was cloudy and so the views were not extensive. On a clear day apparently one looks across to Calgary over the rolling hills to the northeast. Today it was a magical combination of low forested ridges, with open snow-covered meadows, merging into the sky.

I was not brave enough to try skiing down the precipitously steep and narrow trail down off the ridge. Instead I plodded down the hill in my boots until the slope seemed more manageable. I made good time down the valleys, with just a couple of small upsets, and plenty of slightly out of control sections through the trees on a hard packed trail.

Finally with one long, fast descent I came down into the valley and was soon back at the car, with no bones broken, but a newly bent ski pole!

There was nobody else on these trails today, and already the temperatures were rising and the snow changing its consistency. It might have been the last opportunity for a good winter’s outing, and I had made the best of it.

But would I have enough energy left for tomorrow’s expedition?


StatisticsSandy McNabb Ski Trails
Fri. 11 March

Total Dist. 9 km (X-C ski)
Height Gain 705 ft.
Max. Elev. 5,380 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 27 mins.

Picture of the Week

Sun. 6 March: The lonely glove.

This lonely glove seems to be waving at me, or even just possibly giving me a rude gesture, but I don't blame it, left all alone on that remote cross-country ski trail on such a cold wintery day. I hope it is reunited soon with its partner.