Fri. 8 October: Upper Kananaskis River Viewpoint
I don’t go all the way down to the Kananaskis Lakes often enough. After this Thanksgiving weekend the last of the campsites close down. So this was my last chance this year to spend a couple of days hiking around the heart of Kananaskis Country.
Interlakes campsite stretches along the forested shoreline of the Lower Kananaskis Lake, and as the name suggests, the Upper Lake is just over the hill. This is a fine camping area, and I had plenty of ideal sites to choose from. By the time that dark descended, I had a fire going and was enjoying my usual gourmet dinner - some chunky chicken soup out of a can followed by a marmalade sandwich (more marmalade than bread).
There was a breeze during the night, and I could hear the water lapping along the shoreline just a few yards from my tent.
My plan for Friday was to bike up the short hill to the Upper Lake, then head west above the northern shore to Invincible Creek. From here it would be an unofficial hiking route up to a high viewpoint above the Upper Kananaskis River and Upper Lake.
Not far west of the penstock, where the trail started to climb, I hid my bike in the trees and continued on foot. The north side of the Upper Lake gives fine views across to the Continental Divide across the lake. Today some low lying clouds were trapped in the pass below the Elk Range, and overhead it was a mixture of sun and cloud. The trail crosses several impressive rock slides, and sooner or later there will be another one – hopefully when I’m not on the trail.
A sturdy little footbridge crosses Invincible Creek. Immediately after crossing this bridge I turned right off the main trail and followed the edge of the stream to an abandoned fire road. This road steadily climbed the mountainside, making good hiking, apart from all the deadfall across the trail. But having negotiated Mt. Daer fire road, this was no problem. In the latest version of Gillean Daffern’s guidebook, she suggested that a seniors hiking club was planning to clear the trail. No sign of that yet.
After a kilometer and a bit, the fire road ended and I was facing a murderously steep cutline, which had apparently been created as a firebreak during a previous fire. I just put my head down and kept plodding upwards until the grade finally relented. Here in an overgrown meadow, the guidebook told hikers to find a cairn indicating the start of a trail into the forest. The cairn was just a low pile of stones, and the trail was barely discernable. In fact, I decided to make good use of my red blaze tape. This turned out to be a good decision, as on the return journey I would have been lost a dozen times. This so-called trail, marked by about two bits of old blaze and a few piles of stone, made its way along the mountainside in thick forest, just below the open scree slopes above.
Finally I came to a tiny clearing, at the far end of which a dry streambed rose up the hillside. Following this streambed, I eventually came up onto a high point between the huge mountainside to my right and my destination ridge to the left.
I first climbed up the hillside too early and found myself looking west across a shallow valley to my correct ridge. So I headed back down to the col and then swung south and up the forested ridge to a superb viewpoint. A cairn marked the summit, which was surrounded by the grandest of mountain peaks, many snow covered, and some with glaciers.
I could follow the Upper Kananaskis River valley northwards to distant glaciers and mountain peaks with cloud pouring over them. Directly to my west was 9,646 ft. Mt. Putnick, and my southern horizon was filled by the huge Mt. Lyautey, 9,990ft. Far below me to the east was the Upper Kananaskis Lake. This is one view of the vastly popular lake that not many people will ever get, unless they are prepared to expend quite a bit of energy.
Returning back down to lake level, I was glad of all my new blazing through the upper forest, and I hope other travelers may also thank this unknown hiker for all this red tape.
I stopped for a picnic at my favorite park bench, at the junction with the trail to Point backcountry campsite. This is a good place for a birds eye view of the lake and of the twisting path that leads through the desolate rockfall landscape to the western end of the lake. Returning down the trail I met my first humans, a young couple with their younger children and older parents, all having a grand time except for one child who was running along the trail crying her eyes out. Picking up my bike I was soon back at the campsite.
I relaxed by the edge of the lake for a while. Later, a pink glow spread over the water and in the clouds above the mountains, as the light faded. A few more people had arrived at the campsite during the evening, but it was perhaps only about one third full. Many people had declared camping season over by now, and so it was perhaps only the warm weather which had encouraged this many people out into the mountains this long weekend.
Statistics
Upper Kananaskis River Viewpoint
Fri. 8 October
Total Dist. 12.8 km (hike) + 4.2 km (bike) = 17.0 km
Height Gain 1720 ft.
Max. Elev. 7300 ft.
Time on trail 6 hrs. 11 mins.
Sat. 9 October: Frozen Lake
This lake got its name for a reason. It’s usually only ice-free for about three months each year. Frozen Lake is cradled in the arms of Mt. Fox, held in by a steep headwall. What a find it must have been when some early explorer first stumbled upon it. Looking west to the mountain wall, you would never guess that it hid such a spectacular lake.
The approach to Frozen Lake took me on familiar trails, but ones which I had only previously traveled on skis in winter. I arrived at the Elk Pass trailhead, just down the road from my campsite, soon after sunrise. The first part of the trail rises steeply to the power-line summit, before dropping down into Fox Creek. This lower portion of Fox Creek was wet and muddy, which puzzled me, given the recent dry weather. But then I remembered seeing the cloud from my lookout trail yesterday, and I guess that it might have been raining here under that cloud. Also, it seemed that there had been a lot of truck traffic along this power-line access road, and this had churned up the surface.
But soon I was traveling along the gentle Fox Creek on a drier trail up the winding valley. The ski trail signs have all been removed and I suppose they put them back up again quite soon. Nevertheless I recognized the Blueberry Hill trail junction with its picnic table. Just a few hundred yards further on, I came to the West Elk Pass junction. Leaving my bike behind some trees, I turned right off the main trail, and before long I found myself on the Alberta-British Columbia border.
This is called West Elk Pass, but it is an almost imperceptible high point in a wide, flat valley. An information board and lots of good signposts directed me westwards along a cut-line directly headed for the mountain wall. Almost immediately, the trail down into BC and the Elk Lakes turned off to the left, while I continued straight on. Crossing a broad, damp meadow, the trail made one short, steep climb, and then a longer and steeper ascent, to an old boundary marker post. This dilapidated concrete post, covered by a zinc lining, was erected way back in 1916 by surveyors marking the Alberta-BC border.
From here, the trail rose steeply up the mountainside, before cutting diagonally across the steep forested headwall to the edge of the lake. Under sunny skies, it is probably a dark blue color, but today under a mostly cloudy sky, it was a deep green. The front side of the lake is a pleasant strip of trees, including many larches, now past their best. Steep, bare mountain slopes ring the lake on all other sides. The remains of a glacier sit directly behind the lake.
As I sat above the waters, admiring this grand setting, some mist rose up from the floor of the Elk Valley and drifted into the mountain bowl, before dissipating up the mountainside. The guide book suggests that you can scramble up to a grand viewpoint to the left of the lake, called “Taiga Viewpoint”. I did give some thought to clambering up there, but in the end decided that I would give it a miss. It didn’t look too impossible, but it was a bit more than I felt like doing today. In any event, my perch above the lake was spectacular enough.
I dropped back down the steep slopes and onto the cut-line. It didn’t take me long to return to the trailhead where I recovered my bike. Here I met two elderly couples heading for Frozen Lake. “Oh, WE should have brought our bikes, too”, exclaimed one of their party. And so they should. For my return journey back down to the car was an enjoyable coast along Fox Creek, with minimal effort. After the short hill back up to the power-line, it was one frantic breakneck ride back to the car. Halfway down the hill I flew past a group of young people idling up the hillside, one of them clutching what looked like a 12-pack of beer. I had completed my journey just in time to avoid the busy afternoon trails.
Returning to the warm and sunny campsite, I stopped to enjoy the perfect lakeside setting. Packing up, I was soon on my way back home. The journey over the Highwood Pass and down to Longview was leisurely as I was enjoying the clear atmosphere and recognizing all my hiking routes of the past year. It wasn’t as busy as the previous weekend, but judging from the number of parked cars, there were plenty of people out enjoying the long weekend. A sports car roared past me, but I soon caught up with them as they had been stopped by a police car hiding along the Highwood Valley.
I was glad to arrive back in town for a hot shower, and to enjoy the rest of the Thanksgiving Holiday at home.
Statistics
Frozen Lake
Sat. 9 October
Total Dist. 5.0 km (hike) + 9.8 km (bike) = 14.8 km
Height Gain 1620 ft.
Max. Elev. 7170 ft.
Time on trail 3 hrs. 47 mins.
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