The Passionate Hiker: June 2013

Thurs. - Sun. 27 - 30 June: The Crowsnest

The Crowsnest

If you don’t have a copy of the Southern Rockies Trail Guide, by Joey Ambrosi, then get one tomorrow. This book is packed with fascinating hikes across a wide area of southern Alberta and British Columbia. It is sold at the Frank Slide Interpretive Centre on the Crowsnest Highway.

Since the whole of Kananaskis Country was essentially out of bounds, due to the terrible floods, it made sense to dig out Joey’s book and explore further south, in the Crowsnest Pass area and up into Elkford, BC. In three days I did ten separate trips, some of them very short and others a little more demanding. This guide served as a key to a magic world, leading me to some hidden gems of the Rocky Mountains.

The best place to base oneself for an exploration of the Crowsnest area is Chinook Lake, a beautiful campsite just a few kilometres north of the main highway, west of Coleman. There are a few choice sites beside the lake itself, and three loops on the forested hillsides above the lake, including a small tenting loop. Here I found a perfect site. Naturally it filled right up on Friday, as this was the Canada Day long weekend. Luckily, people are remarkably good about respecting their neighbors and it was a peaceful scene. I had camped down by the lake thirty one years ago on my first camping trip in Canada, and had all-night party-goers in the next door site. Not so this time.

Over the course of three days I made ten sorties, visiting a Continental Divide Pass, two high ridges, and several lakes, waterfalls, creeks, forests, and meadows full of wild flowers. The common theme was mining. A hundred or less years ago, the small towns and villages, and the mountains and valleys above them, were once connected by the coal mining industry. The mining business continues today, high up the mountainsides above Elkford.

Thursday

To reach my first destination I had to drive about fifteen kilometres up a dirt road, called the Atlas Road, northwards to Racehorse Creek. Given the recent floods, I did not expect to get very far. But the swollen streams had done much less damage down here in the Southern Rockies, and I caught up with a large grader which was clearing up any washouts and debris. Along the way I passed a group of Stetson-wearing farmers mending a section of fence damaged by the waters.

Following the guidebook, I strode off into the bush and soon discovered this was not the route to the Pass. The delightful trail wound its way up through the trees but it went nowhere at all. The right access point was about a half kilometre further up the road. Here an almost driveable track curved up into the mountains, at a gentle angle, leading directly to the Continental Divide.

One tricky obstacle had to be overcome. Higher up the trail there was a large snowdrift, clinging precariously to the mountainside, completely blocking the road. I found it was too exposed to try and cross it, and could not make firm steps in the hard packed snow. So for safety, I dropped down forty or fifty feet to bypass the foot of the avalanche then climbed back up the steep stony slope to the road, and on up to the Pass.

At the top of the pass the land flattened out. Here were foundations of a building long since removed. A thick wire rope in the bushes suggested there might have been a mine or quarry way up here on the Continental Divide. I strode westwards for a few hundred metres until the land dropped rapidly away to the west. I had just crossed over into British Columbia. A tempting cone shaped mountain rose to the south of the Pass, but this was more than I had the energy for today.

On my return down the mountain, I stayed a little lower to avoid the snowdrift, and found myself on the remains of an older road which had been almost obliterated by rock-fall. It connected with the current road after a few hundred metres. Lower down the road, three quads raced up the hill. We exchanged greetings as they whizzed by, but I was not able to warn them of the snow. Sure enough, they raced back down again a few minutes later.

Later that day I strolled around Chinook Lake in a pleasant afternoon breeze, and had the place to myself apart from a few fishermen below the campsites. The sun lit up the hillsides, with the mountains, notably Crowsnest Mountain, rising above them. The pathway was alive with tiny butterflies darting about in the sunshine.

Friday

By seven o’clock in the morning I was driving out of the campsite and at the first corner met a black bear racing across the road, headed for the sleeping campers. An exciting start to the day!

My first destination was Saskatoon Mountain, a grassy ridge on the north side of the Crowsnest Valley, above Coleman. The trail starts from the Forestry Trunk Road, and heads up through steep wooded hillsides up onto the open ridge. The very first section follows a gigantic power-line which strides westwards across the Continental Divide into British Columbia. Luckily I was soon high above this eyesore.

Saskie, as the locals apparently call it, is a flat ridge running east to west. The eastern end is mostly tree-covered, but at the western end, an attractive rocky knoll gives spectacular all-round views of the entire area of the Crowsnest Pass. Below I could follow the highway as it passed beneath Turtle Mountain, site of the terrible Frank landslide. To the south I could clearly see Ironstone fire lookout which I had visited in 2010. North and Northwest were the High Rock Range and Crowsnest Mountain, dominating the scene.

At my feet was a sea of colorful wild-flowers. Along the ridge I saw some impressive pines, leaning sharply eastwards – a reminder of the fierce winds which usually blow from the west (but not today!). I saw a couple of crosses nailed to trees, suggesting this place has some religious significance to some people. Back at the car I met an older guy out for a short walk. He was impressed I had already been up the hill and back.

Across to the south side of the main valley is a creek called Star Creek, and apparently a nice waterfall. I found my way to the narrow gorge and up the creek for a few hundred metres. But the floods had washed away the trail, and I was only able to make a little progress by a dangerous scramble over a slippery bank which looked to be in danger of giving way. Below me the water thundered around a tight bend in the rocks. I put on my MICROspikes for better grip, but could get no further. It was worth it to see the force of nature at work, but not a safe place to linger. The track back down into the Crowsnest Valley allowed superb views of the area. These were greatly improved by a long train passing by, pulled by four engines, heading east down the Pass.

Next on my list was the easiest hike of the trip. Miner’s Path is a pretty wooded creek which starts at the public park in West Coleman. It was once used by the miners on their way to work. I climbed the wooden stairs up out of the creek to the mine site, but there was nothing left to see except a few blocks of concrete. Nevertheless it was a haunting place, and an enjoyable stroll beside the lively stream, together with a number of other more elderly people such as myself!

My day was only half over. Now I took to the busy highway and drove westwards over Crowsnest Pass into British Columbia. At Sparwood, I turned north and drove up the wide valley to Elkford, on an excellent highway. Construction crews were busy in the centre of Elkford repairing flood damage at the Elk River bridge. I turned right here, up a long hill on a very good road. This road leads to at least one large, modern mine high up in the mountains, and is busy with heavy vehicles.

A few kilometres up the hill there is a trailhead for some good hiking and cross-country skiing trails which head off into the trees. Luckily the trails are very well marked as one could become hopelessly lost otherwise. I arrived at the same time as a group of hikers and dogs, so I gave them a head start.

My trail took me to Josephine Falls, and then back past Lily Lake. I had no idea what I would see. I thought it would be a pretty waterfall. In fact, it was a mini-Zambezi, with the wide Fording River flowing over a gigantic waterfall and plunging into a steep-sided canyon. If this was more accessible it might rival some of the most well-known falls in Canada for popularity. It was not easy to get a good view without dangling out into space, so I did the best I could from behind a wire fence.

By contrast, Lily Lake was a motionless sheet of glass dotted with water lilies, reflecting the dark trees around it. The return loop kept to the higher sections of land, giving grand mountain views above the forest and the clear-cuts. It was a very warm afternoon and I was glad of my supply of water. Already I was looking forward to returning to Elkford and continuing north to the Elk Lakes, later this year perhaps.

Saturday

Day three started with a quick stroll up the Miner’s Path in Coleman as I had missed the waterfall the day before. Rainbow Falls are a pretty set of falls at the top end of the gorge, with a well-placed picnic table below. It was refreshingly cool in the glen.

I continued to drive eastwards down the valley to Hillcrest, and then south out of the valley on a dirt road called the Adanac Road. It winds up to a high pass, past hillsides of dead trees, the results of the Lost Creek fire in 2003. The road had been closed until two days ago due to washouts, and the surface wasn’t great, but I made it to the Pass easily enough.

My hike up Hastings Ridge started from the road summit. Here, another of those very handy mine access roads climbed gently up the mountainside to a ridge where at one time there was an open pit coalmine. It sounds unattractive, but the scenery was stunning. There were superb views southwards to the Castle River valleys and peaks, and far to the south were the Waterton mountains. I could just make out Carbondale fire lookout on its clifftop perch.

It was an easy job to reach the ridge, and to stroll down into the pit. There was water down there, but I made my way along the pit and out the other end. A handy trail completed a circle around this hill. The highest section of Hastings Ridge rose above me and I clambered up the hillside through the trees. A rocky pinnacle was climbed before I continued up to the hilltop. Here I had a 360 degree view of the Southern Rockies.

Below me, two quads came up the road. One turned around and headed back down the hill. I strolled down the steep flower-filled slopes and chatted to the driver of the other quad. He and his young son were staying with his parents near Hillcrest. He lived in Priddis, Alberta and had his own business. He mentioned the local black bear who, he said, was quite friendly. His son described the bear’s wrinkled nose. Then they were off down the hill, and I strode quickly along behind.

Having relaxed at the campsite for a few hours under a hot sun, I set out on my final trip, a woodland stroll along the hiking and skiing trails around Chinook Lake. This area, known as Allison Creek, was used for an Alberta Winter Games cross-county skiing event one year. The trails are well sign-posted, and so I was in no danger of getting lost. The area was nick-named “Allison Wonderland” so I am very happy to report that this was not MY pun.

The trails actually climbed quite a height above the lake before dropping back down to Deadman Pass road and back to the campsite. On one remote section I saw a mother moose and her calf ahead of me. They quickly vanished into the trees. The lake was a more festive area by now, with people floating on rafts, canoeing, fishing, picnic-ing. Some of the younger kids were even swimming in the cold waters. The Canada Day long weekend was well under way.

Even up here in the forests, I could hear the echo of train horns way down in the Crowsnest Pass. What could be more Canadian than hiking through a green forest to the sound of a distant train, and encountering a moose along the way?

Statistics:

Number of Hikes: Ten (10)

Total Distance: 40.0 km (hike)

Height Gain: 3,130 ft.

Max. Elev.: 6,900 ft.

Time on Trail: 14 hrs. 30 mins.

Weather: Warm and sunny

Hike Details (dist./height gain/time on trail):

#1: Racehorse Ck. Quad Trails: 3.0 km/200 ft./80 mins.
#2: Racehorse Pass: 7.0 km/950 ft./177 mins.
#3: Chinook Lake Circuit: 2.3 km/0 ft./55 mins.
#4: Saskatoon Mtn: 3.6 km/690 ft./116 mins.
#5: Star Creek: 1.5 km/80 ft./32 mins.
#6: Miner’s Path: 2.0 km/100 ft./42 mins.
#7. Josephine Falls/Lily L.: 6.0 km/120 ft./110 mins.
#8: Rainbow Falls: 1.6 km/80 ft./32 mins.
#9: Hastings Ridge: 7.5 km/710 ft./154 mins.
#10: Allison Wonderland: 5.5 km/200 ft./78 mins.

Cattle drive on the Porcupine Hills road west of Nanton

Heading up Racehorse Pass

Racehorse Pass. Continental Divide ahead.
Drift blocks road - had to drop down around it.

Unnamed falls below Mt. Ward (Racehorse Creek)

Luckily these were the only quads I saw

Chinook Lake looking NW to High Rock Range

Chinook Lake, looking west to Mt. Tecumseh

South end of Forestry Trunk Road (closed further north at Racehorse Creek)

Steep wooded hillsides below Saskatoon Mountain

Saskatoon Mountain looking south across Crowsnest Pass

The modest summit of Saskatoon Mountain
with great views down to Coleman and beyond

Colorful hillsides

More wildflowers (these ones past their best)

Proof that this is the windiest place in Alberta!

Eastbound freight approaching West Coleman

Stupendous Josephine Falls, east of Elkford BC (Fording River)

Canyon just below Josephine Falls

Lily Lake, BC - dark reflections

Rainbow Falls, Coleman

Looking south to Castle River area from Hastings Ridge

Incoming weather over the Flathead Range, from Hastings Ridge

Interesting old coal mine at the top of Hastings Ridge

View to coal mine ridge from Hastings Ridge summit

Dropping back down to Hillcrest - signs of the Lost Creek fire of 2003

Sun. 16 June: Snowdrift Ridge

The map calls this rugged peak "Nameless Ridge", but such a fine mountain ridge should have a proper name.

While it’s nice to know that not every geographical feature in the Canadian Rockies has yet been named, this one seemed an obvious omission. This mountain rises from the Highwood Valley floor, at a bend in the beautiful Highway 40, about fifteen kilometres south of the Highwood Pass. Starting off as a steep grassy ridge, higher up it becomes bare and rocky, continuing to rise to a narrow, exposed summit, at over 8,100 ft. It would seem more spectacular if it did not sit directly below the gigantic, vertical snow-encrusted face of Mist Mountain (10,302 ft.).

Yet, despite its rugged contour, the journey to the summit is no more than an easy stroll, with a tiny bit of scree work as you approach the top. This circular trail starts in a wide clearing beside the highway, entering the woods and immediately climbing. After a short while the old forestry road is joined, now just an overgrown, narrow trail along the hillsides. After crossing a lively stream, and ducking beneath the canopy of evergreens, which grew all along the path, I reached a bend in the trail. Here it headed quite steeply up the hillsides until finally breaking free into a wide, grassy valley.

This looked to be prime bear country, so I made my presence known. This proved to be a very good idea. Higher up the valley, I found a very recent paw print of a small black bear which might just have been on my route before it heard me yelling. When I reached the col at the head of the valley I could see its paw prints heading down the snowdrifts to the valley below, perhaps in a hurry to escape this noisy human. An encounter avoided.

The upper sections of the valley had long snowdrifts lying in the streambed. Above me the clouds were already forming in the blue sky, around the mountain tops. The bare grassy slopes led to a col between the nameless ridge and the spectacular southern face of Mist Mountain, which fittingly was half hidden in a swirling cloud.

Now I turned to my right for the steep but straightforward ascent to the ridge top. As I climbed, the sun appeared over the ridge, blinding my view up the rocky scree slope. Then suddenly I was at the top, and was slightly shocked to find myself immediately on the summit of a slightly exposed, narrow ridge.

What a viewpoint. I had good views of the ascent route up Mist Mountain, consisting of a steep valley, still choked by deep snow. This was our route on the successful ascent of Mist Mountain in 1984. The summit was hidden, but the all-round views, of an alpine mountain scene, were breath-taking. Yet this rugged place had been reached in such an easy manner.

I followed Nameless Ridge for its entire length. Apart from a few small uphills, it was generally downhill, giving continuously different views of the peaks and valleys. It quickly widened out to give easy walking on rocky ground. Further along the ridge, huge snowdrifts were still lying along the eastern edge of the mountain. A little further along, the trees came up to the ridgeline, and the snow was plastered to ten or more feet depth between the trees. This snow might not completely disappear before the first winter storms later this year.

As I strolled along the ridge, I considered what I would name it, if I had the power to do so. My final choice, for this article, was Snowdrift Ridge, reflecting those spectacular drifts along the eastern edges of the mountain. Not that my vote will count!

Now I found myself on a steep, grassy slope, which was covered with crocuses and other colorful wild-flowers. I stayed on this line all the way to the treeline far below. From here to the road I thrashed my way down through the unbroken forest until I came out onto the highway. I was looking for the old forestry road, but there was no clear sign of the path. So I played it safe and returned along the pleasant, grassy edges of the main road, for about two kilometres back to the car.

Although the winter gate had only opened the previous day, it was a busy scene, with cyclists and vehicles. A long procession of about a hundred BMWs whizzed by, making this look like a busy major highway in rush hour. As they disappeared up the Pass, the valley returned to relative peace.

The clouds had been building all morning, and I was glad to be safely down off the high ridges before the afternoon thunder-showers which had been forecast. Of course, if I HAD been struck by lightning up there, then it would have made the job of naming this nameless ridge much easier – Passionate Hiker Ridge!

Statistics:

Total Distance: 6.5 km (hike)

Height Gain: 2,044 ft.

Max. Elev.: 8,172 ft.

Time on Trail: 4 hrs. 23 mins.

Start hike: 7.02 am

Col: 8.26 am

Top: 9.02 am

Treeline: 10.26 am

Road: 10.53 am

Ret. to car: 11.25 am

Temp: +3C to +16 C