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.

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.

Yoho Adventures

Fri. 14 May: Mt. Hunter Lookout (lower)
Yoho – ho??

I certainly didn’t have a bottle of rum on this trip, although if the two grizzlies had come much closer, I might have needed it!

This trip took me to the wonderful Yoho National Park, which lies to the west side of Banff National Park, just on the BC side of the Alberta-BC border. The Trans-Canada Highway (TCH) runs through the middle of the Park, but there are some superb hiking trails and remote mountain destinations, including a few locations of abandoned fire lookouts.

Although I did not achieve all my goals on this trip, it was still another wonderful adventure in the Canadian Rockies, which this time included gigantic waterfalls, frozen lakes, and spectacular scenery – to say nothing of the wildlife, and the trains!

I had to be in the office first thing in the morning, so was not on the road until almost 10 a.m., but the traffic was not too busy, and I negotiated the roadworks between Castle Junction and the Icefields Parkway at a slow speed, but in light traffic. Dropping down into BC, down the “big hill” (as this section of the Canadian Pacific railway line was called, before the spiral tunnels were built), and just before reaching the railway village of Field, I turned right onto the Yoho Valley road. Here were two campsites. The nicer site, Kicking Horse, was not yet open, but the winter campground of Monarch, next door, was open, and almost empty. So I pitched my tent in the trees, under a gigantic cliff, just before a short rain shower swept through the valley. I then proceeded west on the TCH.

My first destination was Mt. Hunter Lookout. The trailhead lies on the TCH, a few kilometers east of the Park boundary. Here the Wapta Falls road branches off to the left, and it was here that I parked the car. But to reach the Mt. Hunter trail, one has to negotiate a crossing of the highway, which could be tricky in the busy summer months. A large proportion of the traffic consists of huge semi-trailers, racing at top speed round a bend as you try to pick the right time to scuttle across the road and down the bank on the other side.

This narrow hiking trail soon comes to the next point of excitement – a crossing of the CPR line. Hoping for a train, I was out of luck. The trail winds its way up the forested hillside onto a forested ridge (lots of trees in BC), which climbs at a reasonable angle towards a cliff, on top of which sits the lookout tower.

Someone had been up this trail very recently with a chainsaw, clearing away several quite large trees which had fallen across the trail over the past winter. This is a always a good sign to the hiker that one is on a solid route! Soon I had some nice views of the highway running through the valley below me, and tall peaks all round. The trail winds around the back of the cliff, then after a steep section, reaches a junction. One could continue up the ridge for another 1000 vertical feet or so to the site of the upper lookout, now removed. But I had decided that the lower lookout would be sufficient today, given the late start and slightly unsettled weather. Turning left at the junction, I soon reached the cliff top. Here stood a perfectly good fire lookout tower on a tall steel structure, with a little wooden cabin sitting below it, close to the edge of the cliff.

This cabin was not locked. Inside it was empty, but in perfect condition. There was a table and bench in the right-hand corner, and a small cupboard in the far corner, with small candles and matches for emergency use. The floor was neatly swept, with a broom resting in the corner. This would be a more than adequate shelter for anyone stuck up here in a storm.

A couple of odd reflector devices shared the cliff-top with the cabin.

Views were of course excellent, and would be even better from the top of the tower. I might have shinned up the ladder, but it would have involved some climbing up the steelwork to reach the ladder cage. Given the cloud build-up, I thought there was a chance of a thundershower, so I resisted the temptation and stayed on the ground! This lookout has been unused since 1976, a full 34 years ago, so its state of repair was a surprise to me.

A quick return down the mostly dry trail, with more sunshine coming out. I soon reached the railway line again, and (of course!) settled down to wait for a train. When it came, it was sudden. The road and rail take a sharp bend just to the east of here, so there was little warning of the approaching train, before it burst into view, blowing its horn to warn me to stand back.

I exchanged a friendly wave with the engineer, while trying (impossibly of course) to take still and video pictures at the same time with my little camera. The train took what seemed like several minutes to rattle past, at quite a rate, being downhill on it way westwards.

Now back at the car, I immediately proceeded down the Wapta Falls road to my next hike.



Fri. 14 May: Wapta Falls
For the unaware, do not confuse Wapta Falls and Wapta Lake. They are a good 40+ kilometers apart and not related - except by being linked by the Kickinghorse River.

The Wapta Falls road takes you about 2 km through the trees to a parking area. From hereon, it is another pleasant 2 km stroll to a vantage point above the Falls. The first part of the trail is on a nice flat pathway, along a clearing which was at one time intended to be a continuation of the driving road.

After a while, the trail becomes rougher as it contours up a slight hillside and soon afterwards arrives at a nice viewpoint directly above the Falls.

Apparently in times of high water, the falls can be heard a long way off. Even today, it was quite noisy from up here. A chain link fence had been erected to stop silly tourists from getting too close to the edge and slipping away to an awful end. From here, the falls certainly looked spectacular, about 100 ft high and quite wide, with the river smooth and quiet above the falls, and a small rock formation immediately below the falls.

But to really appreciate Wapta Falls, one has to walk right down to the river level below the falls. This is easily accomplished thanks to the nice zig-zag path through the wet forest, leading down to the shoreline. Now it became impressive. Spray was flying and the waters roared over the lip of the falls, with mountains high above.

I put on my rain jacket and carefully clambered up the wet, slippery shaly rock pile, until I was directly facing the waters as they thundered down into a turbulent pool. This would not be a good place for a timid person to stand. I carefully made my way down off the slippery slopes, and walked a little further downstream to take some more pictures as the sun came out.

A father and son walked across my field of view at the perfect time to give some foreground scale to my photo. They were on an evening fishing trip to the pools below the waterfall.

Wapta Falls is certainly a grand sight. They would be even more spectacular when the river was in full spate – worth a return trip one day.

I had met one hiker on his way up Mt. Hunter, and a small handful of people along the Wapta Falls trail, which on a summer weekend would be a busy place, I feel sure. But today was a good choice for the seeker of solitude. It took no time at all to get back to the car. I turned east onto the Trans-Canada Highway (TCH) and retraced my route back to my campsite just east of Field.
On the way, I carried out a recce for a future trip to Tocher Lookout. Turning left just before Field, I followed the Emerald Lake road for a short distance to the Natural Bridge parking area. This is a popular tourist spot, where one can walk across a short bridge for good views of the river eating its way through the rock, causing a “natural bridge” of rock. Here is the start of a long forestry/lookout road bike and hike to Tocher Peak, which I plan to do later this year. It looks like a long but do-able single day trip.

A quick drive into Field – after the train finally cleared the crossing – where everything was closed! I then drove a little way up the Yoho Valley road, to a spiral tunnel viewpoint, before turning around at the winter gate – beyond this point is avalanche country.

The evening turned out to be quite an experience. I was using my new binoculars – an awesome present from L – taking a look up at the railway tunnels across the valley from the campsite, when I spotted a very large grizzly bear on the open slopes just below the railway line. I saw a couple of campers (turned out they were German tourists) also with binoculars, and so pointed out the bear to them, which they were thrilled to see. But then a second large grizzly joined the first one, and we watched in fascination as they both ambled down the steep scree slopes towards the TCH, full of speeding traffic, just a few hundred yards from where we were standing. After reaching the underside of the highway bridge, instead of coming into the campsite, they turned around and ambled off towards Field. They were both large, powerful bears, but looking very much like they were on a casual evening stroll, and not interested in eating any tourists – although a couple of campers got a little too close, and one of the bears stopped to look at them before turning away. Rather foolhardy!

I was lucky that there only seemed to be one mosquito in the campsite as I had forgotten my spray – from now one they will multiply rapidly. I was glad that I was pretty tired as I might otherwise have had a very disturbed night. As it was, I mostly slept through a combination of traffic whooshing by on the TCH, and trains at maximum power crawling up the “big hill” towards the spiral tunnels and the Alberta border. The echo of engines at full power, pulling incredibly long and heavy trains up the pass was deafening. There seemed to be trains going by in both directions all night. But mostly I slept through it all.

Sat. 15 May: Sherbrooke Lake

Having enjoyed the all-night music of a thousand railway trains grinding up the big hill, I was up and ready for breakfast before 7 a.m. this morning. It was a cloudless, cool morning, and the scenery surrounding my tent was breathtaking: soaring cliffs, snowy jagged mountainsides.

Today I returned eastwards a little way towards the Alberta border. The rather run-down looking West Louise Lodge, beside Wapta Lake, was the starting point for my final hike on this visit to Yoho.

At the back of the hotel, by an old gas station, and half hidden in the trees, is the trailhead for two spectacular Yoho destinations: Sherbrooke Lake and Paget fire lookout, both of which I hoped to reach today.

But fifty yards up the trail I realized this was going to be a tough hike. In fact, if I wanted to get anywhere at all, it would need to be on snow shoes. Even here, there was drifted snow on the trail, and soft enough that it would not reliably take the weight of a boot. As usual, some hiker had been up this trail a few days ago, and had somehow plodded through the drifts, often sinking into the snow. I have no idea how they had the energy to do that. So I strapped on my snowshoes and slowly made my way up the narrow trail.

The sound of the traffic on the Trans-Canada Highway below me gradually faded away as I progressed up the hillside. With the snowshoes, it was still tricky at times, making progress up this narrow, snow covered trail. In places it was quite steep, and even with the ‘shoes, one would often sink down into the softer snow where it had not been packed down.

After a couple of kilometers I reached the important junction where the Paget lookout trail branched off to the right, and the Sherbrooke Lake trail continued up the hillside. Nobody had attempted the Paget trail, as a result of which there was no obvious route to follow. The lookout lay over two kilometers away, up the steep forested hillside, and the hidden trail was somewhere under a covering of soft snow, where even with snow shoes it was hard going.

Learning from my Aylmer lookout experience, I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and after a few hundred yards, turned around and returned to the junction sign. Even the Sherbrooke Lake trail, which I now followed, was snow-covered, but there were signs of previous travelers, and so the snow held my weight better. And the trail was fairly flat, with one section where it climbed up the hillside for a short distance.

The trees started to thin out, and then finally I came up to the shoreline of a magnificent lake – still firmly frozen over, and surrounded by spectacular peaks. I walked out onto the ice and strode up the surface of the lake, following the path made by skiers coming down from the glaciers way off to the north beyond the far end of the lake. This is the route M had taken on an adventure earlier this year, and I was duly impressed with her journey on skis, down off the icefields.

It was a perfect morning, and the scenery was breathtaking. The far end of the lake is dominated by the peak of Mt. Niles, 9,734 ft., beyond which lie the glaciers. I sat by the side of the lake on a handy exposed rock to relax for a while. This was a worthy destination on its own, and I would return later this year to deal with the lookout trail!

The return journey was quicker, but still quite tricky in places, as I sank to my knees a few times, even wearing my ‘shoes. To my amazement, lower down the trail, I met a group of five young people, two guys and three girls, plodding up through the snow wearing a combination of shorts and sneakers. I politely greeted them, knowing that they would certainly be turning back before too much further. How they had even made it the first half kilometer was a bit of a mystery.

Back down at the hotel, I changed into some dry socks and shoes, and was soon on my way back home. I enjoyed a longish stop at the classic railway viewpoint on the scenic highway 1A to snap a long train curving around the edge of the Bow River, below the towering peaks.

There were quite a few tourists and buses and cyclists enjoying the first really warm weekend of the year.

Now who said something about rum earlier?


Statistics
Total for 3 Trips
Fri. 14/Sat. 15 May
Total Dist. 18.8 km
Height Gain 2079 ft.
Max. Elev. 5919 ft.
Time on Trail 6 hr. 26 mins.