Tocher: The ultimate lookout

Sat. 14 August: Tocher Ridge Fire Lookout
This fire lookout has everything: difficult to reach, a stunning remote ridge-top location, sweeping views of the Canadian Rockies, and – despite being closed in 1972 – still fully equipped inside.

I had been planning this trip for a while, as I knew that it would be close to my physical limits, even if things went to plan. Over 36 kilometers on the trail, and a height gain of 3720 feet, made this more than my typical weekend jaunt. And I would be heading out into remote mountain country, on rarely used hiking trails. Given my encounter the previous weekend with “unmaintained” trails, up to Mt. Daer Lookout, I prepared for the worst, and was mentally ready to turn back if necessary.

For an early start, I had stayed overnight at West Louise Lodge, a very basic motel in glorious surroundings west of the Continental Divide. So in the morning it only took me a few minutes to reach the trailhead at the Natural Bridge tourist spot on the Emerald Lake road west of Field. As I biked up the trail, the first light of dawn was just revealing the forests and mountains all around me. It was a cool morning and I soon had to put on my fleece gloves to stop my hands from freezing. In past days there had been a lot of rain in Alberta, but today promised to be sunny – and so it proved. It took the sun a long time to reach my trail, from the first signs of sunlight on the high peaks opposite.

This journey might be described in three sections, each roughly 6 km long:

The first section was on a gravel road dropping down to the Emerald and Amiskwi rivers, both crossed on good bridges. At one time you could drive down here, but now it is a quiet backwater. Just beyond an old picnic site, I came to a junction: to the right, the remote Amiskwi trail, to the left, my route. It was an easy bike ride on a flat forestry road, close to the wide, blue-green Kicking Horse river, then between tall pines in deep forest. Reaching a junction in the trees, I turned right onto the Otterhead Valley fire road.

This second leg of my journey started with several kilometers of steep trail, up which I steadily pushed my bike. There was no hurry. The sun had only just caught the higher mountainsides, and it was still early in the day. This old fire road was now just a trail up the densely forested hillsides. Eventually the gradient eased off and I was able to ride my bike again for short periods between having to push it. I was looking forward to the return journey where I would benefit from all this hard work. High up on the top of the ridge ahead of me, the sunlight was reflecting on something. It was the lookout building, although still too far away and high up to be more than a bright light.

Somewhere along this stretch, I saw a very encouraging sight – a newly cut tree trunk, moved off to the side of the trail. “Thank you!!” I said aloud, and with relief. For this meant that there was a very good chance that the Yoho Park trail crew had been this way and my journey now seemed much more probable of success.

This section of trail seemed to be longer than I had imagined, as it undulated along the side of the deep valley. I made it longer by having to repair a puncture to the front tire. But it only took me fifteen minutes to fix, and I was on my way again. Finally in a section of dense undergrowth I came to the junction for the Tocher Lookout trail. The remains of a sign, firmly nailed to a tree, pointed up to the right.

Changing from bike shorts to hiking gear, and leaving my bike to the porcupines or other rubber-loving critters who like to chew on bike tires (according to someone with a sense of humor who wrote online of his trip up this trail), I set off on the final leg of the ascent. This third section of my journey was a series of nine long switchbacks, climbing often very steeply up to the ridge high above and hidden in the trees. There were signs of the trail crew at work all the way up. As a result, there were no obstacles apart from narrow sections of trail where bushes and young trees had started to cover the route. But higher up, the trail improved and the going was straightforward – but very steep. Counting the zig-zags, I was at number nine, and heading straight up through the trees to the top of the ridge, now in sight. Now I could see the lookout building upon the rocky ridge to the left. Suddenly as I reached the ridge top, I could see the whole of Yoho National Park, mountains and valleys, spread out in every direction.

These final few hundred feet took a lot of effort, but finally I was standing on a narrow, rocky ridge, on top of which sat Tocher Lookout, a square, squat building with a cupola mounted on top. It was in surprisingly good condition despite having been closed down a full thirty eight years ago in 1972. The glass was still intact in all the windows, and was tinted slightly black, so I could not tell if there was anyone inside. I hesitantly opened the door, whose key was in the lock, and stepped inside.

Here was a fully kitted out room, with everything one might need for several nights stay on the ridge. There was a table and two chairs, a flat board for a bed, a sink, utensils and stove, orange coveralls hanging on a peg, broom in the corner, candles, magazines, pack of cards, and so on. The stairs led up to the tiny cupola. I climbed the stairs and admired the view in every direction. There was even a small table and a chair up there for the fire observer to use. Two windows were designed to open to allow cool air to circulate on hot days.

Down in the main living area was a visitors book, or, according to the front cover, the “Tocher Ridge Natural Planetarium Log Book”. Entries went back to September 1997, but there were relatively few. In some years, only a small handful of people made it up there. This year I was first up since the trail crew were here in late July. Their log noted that they had been dropped off by helicopter with their chain saws, and they had made their way down the mountain clearing the windfall as they went. They added that they hoped to return later in the year to do some painting inside the lookout.

The most surprising entry was in the late 1990’s when someone made it up in December on skis. They said it took 10 hours from Natural Bridge - incredible feat. Other people noted the spiritual calm they felt when staying up there. It seems most people stayed at least one night. I would have liked to have stayed a night as well, but it was not even noon. So I carefully closed the door, and after taking a short scramble on the rocks around the lookout, started back down the mountain.

Below the lookout was a dilapidated loo, with two walls missing – a very drafty perch. A circle of stones marked the helicopter pad – it would be quite exciting watching a helicopter make a landing up there on that narrow rocky ridge.

I made very good time back down the very steep trail. These relentlessly steep sections were tough on the knees. I seemed to whiz down the slopes, counting down the switchbacks from nine to zero. Back at the bike I was relieved to see that no porcupines had chewed my tires!

Changing back into my biking shorts, I was soon making good progress along the undulating portion of the trail. Then the fun began. The final several kilometers of the trail, back down to the valley below, was one fast descent. I am sure a more experienced biker would have done this in half the time, but I still made good speed, enjoying the fruits of all that earlier uphill labor.

With relief I returned to the final leg of my journey, along flat trails. I stopped by the edge of the Kicking Horse river to enjoy the magnificent mountain scenery and the swiftly flowing river. The final kilometer required me to push the bike up the gently curving road, but eventually I came out into civilization again, joining the busload of curious Japanese tourists at the now busy Natural Bridge parking area. One Japanese lady stood behind my car, silently staring inside as I loaded the bike.

And so I returned in crazy traffic to town. Nobody seems to care about speed limits on the Trans-Canada Highway, even in heavy traffic or at roadworks. But I set my speed below the limit and let everyone pass me, in their hurry to reach the flat prairie.

This adventure had worked out in the best possible way imaginable: the trail was obstacle-free from start to finish, the weather was perfect, I had the energy to make this journey safely, and there were no bears. One cannot ask for more than that.


Statistics
Tocher Lookout
Sat. 14 August

Total Dist. 11.0 km (hike) +25.6 km (bike - ridden or pushed!) = 36.6 km
Height Gain 3720 ft.
Max. Elev. 7495 ft.
Time on trail 7 hrs. 55 mins.