Mt. Kidd Lookout

Mon. 6 September: Mt. Kidd Lookout

Not a long hike, but a strenuous one - made trickier by a new fall of snow.

This steep trail runs straight up the lower slopes of Mt. Kidd, that impressive 9,705 ft. mountain which towers above Kananaskis Village. This isn’t an “official” trail, but there is a well-marked path which takes you there.

The summer of 2010 has been unlike a typical Alberta summer – unsettled and wet. And so it continued into this Labor Day long weekend. When it finally cleared this morning, there was a good layer of new snow down to 2000 metres. Driving into the mountains this morning we were treated to low lying mists, with a snow-covered panorama of mountain peaks. Since J had to drive, I was kept busy snapping away with my camera. It could hardly have been a more impressive sight as we raced west towards the Kananaskis Country turnoff on the Trans-Canada Highway.

Parking at the Kananaskis Village, we set out on the paved Terrace trail, then turned uphill onto the wide Kovach trail, into the trees. It was only a degree above freezing, and so we were warmly dressed. Higher up, it was below freezing, and in the wind it felt plain wintry.

This was a grizzly bear and black bear hot spot, especially during this berry-eating season. Signs were posted on our trail warning of “bear in the area”. So we made enough noise to scare them away, or to let them know there was bear food on the trail!

After a couple of kilometers on pleasant forest trails, we turned into the trees at a tiny pile of stones. From here a narrow trail rose up the mountainside on an unremittingly steep and direct assault on the grassy summit just short of 2000 vertical feet above the village. The trail was wet, and a little slippery. Making plenty of stops, we slowly but surely conquered this hill. Coming out of the trees we slogged up a long and steep grassy slope, up into the snowline. Finally the trail curved slightly to the right, leading to the northeast ridgeline. Already the views were stunning. The green Kananaskis Valley was spread out below us, with the village and golf course prominent. To the south there was a display of jagged snowy mountain peaks.

The final section remained steep and snow-covered, as it contoured up onto the ridge-top. Right on the front edge of the ridge was the concrete base of the old fire lookout building.

Perhaps surprisingly, given Alberta’s long history of fire lookouts, the Mt. Kidd lookout was only built in the Fall of 1981 – at the time of my first visit to Alberta. By 1997 it had been removed, and they never did build a proper road or path up to the lookout. But what a location! The 360 degree views were stunning. The hilltop, snow covered today but usually a green grassy ridge in summer, leads south to the northern ramparts of Mt. Kidd. To the east lies the Kananaskis Valley far below, and to the west, the deep forested valleys of Ribbon Creek, and North Ribbon Creek – our route to Memorial Lakes two weeks previously. Today the mountains were all covered in new snow, and looking very wild and wintry.

This was an ideal place for a photo session. Even the worst photographer could not have taken a bad picture up here. J of course, being an accomplished photographer, took some stunningly beautiful shots.

Then it was time for the slippery descent back to the village. My MicroSpikes had their first outing since last Spring, and once again they proved their value. This was a very steep and muddy trail, and I felt as safe as if I was walking down the high street. J plans to walk down the high street this week to buy his own set of MicroSpikes. It will be money well spent.

So it did not take us very long to get back to the car, meeting only one middle-aged couple on the lower forest trails – glad to know we had scared any bears away with our hullaballoo-ing. The clouds had started to build fairly quickly during our descent, and as we drove out of the valley, a few showers were breaking out – yet another indication of the unsettled summer of 2010.

Nevertheless, we had notched up yet another fire lookout location, and in the process quite possibly have declared the winter hiking season open with still two weeks to go before the end of summer!

Statistics
Mt. Kidd Lookout
Mon. 6 September

Total Dist. 7.2 km (hike)
Height Gain 1900 ft.
Max. Elev. 6905 ft.
Time on trail 4 hrs. 0 mins.

Hummingbird Plume

Sat. 19 June: Hummingbird Plume Lookout

As lookouts go, this one was in a terrible state, and sat in a clearing surrounded by tall trees with absolutely no view of anything - but it was no less interesting for all that, as I will describe!

The forecast was calling for a good chance of thundershowers this afternoon. Naturally, an early morning start was my strategy. My trail started at the popular Ribbon Creek parking area, below Kananaskis Village. Being early, I had pole position - by late morning this car park would fill up. It was a beautiful day for a hike – clear skies and a cool breeze. There was no snow on any of my trails today, although there were patches of running water.

To travel the trails around Kananaskis Village and Nakiska ski area, one needs a good map. There is a complex network of cross-country ski trails, biking, hiking and horseback routes, across the forested hillsides. There is a long-distance trail over Skogan Pass, and a valley route along Stoney Trail, the old road up the Kananaskis Valley. Luckily they have signposted trail maps at just about every junction, so you would have to work quite hard to get yourself totally lost. And most of these routes are nice wide trails.

My route followed the lower section of Skogan Trail, which skirts the lower edge of the Nakiska ski hill – site of the 1988 Winter Olympic downhill events. I made surprisingly good time through the trail system, gradually or sometimes more steeply climbing, but with almost no views. The one exception was the occasional glimpse of the ski runs on the upper slopes of Mt. Allen, where one could still ski – if you were prepared to slog up several thousand feet of mountainside.

I reached the powerline which cuts directly up to the top of Skogan Pass before it drops down into the Bow Valley. Here I turned right onto Sunburst Trail. Skogan turned off to the left and climbed to the Pass. For some reason, at this junction there was a sign banning horses from my route!

The nice, wide forest trail soon had me at the top of the hill. I tried to imagine this hill before the trees grew so tall. The approach to the lookout would have been quite spectacular as the road reached the clifftop with two last short bends.

I reached a small clearing, and here sat what remained of Hummingbird Plume Lookout. As the guidebook notes, there is a single picnic table nearby, which is in a lot better shape than the lookout! It is perhaps surprising that the lookout was not located right on the edge of the cliff, but perhaps in the pre-forest days, it used to have good 360 degree views from its position.

The building might have disintegrated by now if it wasn’t held together by strong cables on all sides, acting as lightning protection. Inside, the floor is rotten, and the walls are falling apart. But this funny little hut does have a long history, perhaps being built in the early 1900s. It was used as a shelter by German prisoners of war in WW2, when collecting wood. They carved their names on the walls inside.

And there IS a view – one just has to walk a few yards beyond the clearing, to the edge of a high cliff. I found myself looking far down into the Kananaskis Valley, where toy cars were snaking along the road, and the river was shining in the sunlight. To the south were several snow-capped peaks.

On my return journey, I varied my route, returning along the High Level ski trail, onto Skogan trail and back to the powerline. Here I headed directly downhill to the valley, following the often very steep powerline access road – or the remains of a road – it now being overgrown.

This would NOT be a route to attempt in the reverse direction. It seemed a long drop down onto Stoney Trail on the valley floor. Here the powerline splits, and there is an electrical switching station. Funnily enough, I found this mix of spectacular, timeless mountain scenery and ugly power line a fascinating contrast. It made for some good photos.

Turning south onto Stoney trail, I soon came to a junction and headed back into the forest. It was a short walk to Troll Falls, whose roar I had been hearing for quite a while.

The trail came alongside a raging stream, threatening to overflow its banks amongst the trees, and then in front of me was the impressive small waterfall known as Troll Falls. The volume of water, after all the recent rain, was causing the falls to fly horizontally off the upper shelf before dropping noisily into a pool below. I was able to climb a few feet up towards the falls, under a cliff, for a better view. Some holes in the rock, caused by the wear of the swirling water, showed how wild this canyon could get. What I failed to realize was that these holes were actually the nostrils of the Troll. If I had taken a few steps back, without tripping up and getting wet, I would have seen the ugly face of the Troll!

An elderly couple came along and we both took photos for each other. Then as I was returning along the trail from the falls, I passed a couple of geriatric old ladies, one with a walking frame, then more tourists. I got out of there just in time to enjoy its lonely magic. Climbing the steep hillside alongside the stream, I was able to reach the top of the Falls for more spectacular (but not very safe) views of the water surging over the lip.

On my way back down Skogan Trail, I veered off to the right onto the lower slopes of the ski hill, at the Bronze ski lift. Ski hills always seem such desolate places in summer time.

Soon I was back at the car, in a now full car park. Nevertheless it was a peaceful setting, and I relaxed in the warm sunshine watching the clouds starting to build up all around. A number of artists had set themselves up on the picnic tables by Ribbon Creek and were creating their own personal landscape masterpieces.

I had thought about also hiking up to Mt. Kidd Lookout today. So I drove up the hill to Kananaskis Village, where the trail starts. The clouds were starting to look threatening, and I felt I had already had a good day on the hill.

So instead I wandered around the village and in the process made a few discoveries. For a start, I was able to figure out the route up Mt. Kidd from below – and it is relentlessly steep. I also found a wide grassy field covered in yellow dandelions, giving spectacular views of the mountains ringing the Kananaskis Valley to the south – a very Swiss scene, I thought.

Then I also came upon a cliff-top viewpoint of the valley below, with wooden seats and nicely landscaped. Finally I discovered, in the outdoor store, that the next volume of my hiking bible was now on the shelves. The 4th edition of Gillean Daffern’s incomparable “Kananaskis Country Trail Guide” will now be a set of five volumes, the first of which is due to be launched next week – but it is already on the shelves. I was quick to grab my copy.

Having chatted idly with the New Zealander in the store about the merits of Merino wool socks, hiking in shorts and long socks (it’s also a favourite NZ gear) and the superiority of South Island NZ, I returned to the car.

On the return journey I stopped at the “Colonel’s Cabin” opposite Barrier Lake. This is where the old fire lookout building, which used to sit up on the ridge above Barrier Lake, now sits. It was superseded in the early 1980’s and was returned to its original home – which was as a guard tower at the Prisoner of War camp here. Seems a lot of moving for a very unwieldy building, but here it sits, in dire need of a new coat of paint. Not sure I can count it as another fire lookout to check off on my list – but I do remember seeing it back in October 1982 while it was still acting as a fire lookout.

Driving east I passed through some heavy rain showers, but in Calgary it was warm and sunny. At the Elbow River bridge near Bragg Creek there was a collection of fire engines, rescue boats and police cars. I read later that someone had fallen into the river near Bragg Creek, and had been carried away by the strong spring run-off current. I suppose they were looking for the body. A sober lesson about crossing rivers, especially during run-off.


Statistics
Hummingbird Plume Lookout
Sat. 19 June

Total Dist. 14 km (hike)
Height Gain 1296 ft.
Max. Elev. 6120 ft.
Time on trail 3 hrs. 51 mins.

Raspberry Ridge and Cat Creek Hills

Fri. 11 June: Raspberry Ridge Lookout

A tradition is springing up around my birthday, where I head for the hills and enjoy a day outdoors. It almost didn’t happen this year, as I was not able to get away from the office until late morning. But I did escape – arriving at Cataract Creek campsite wearing my office clothes!

One hour later, having changed into my hiking gear and pitched my tent, I was on the trail up to Raspberry Ridge fire lookout. The lower slopes are through pleasant forest, with early views up to the ridge high above, on the northern end of which the lookout building was visible. It was overcast today, but I was sure that the clouds would start to clear away, as the forecast for the weekend was for clear skies. Sure enough, there were some sunny spells, but it was not until much later in the evening that it would clear.

I reached the junction where one has a choice, head directly up the steep slopes to the ridge, or swing left onto the reclaimed fire road. I last came up here back in May 1992, over 18 years ago. At that time I somehow missed this junction and ended up slogging up the steep direct route. Today I chose the longer, but easier, route.

Being in no particular hurry, I enjoyed a relaxed stroll up the long switchbacks, on a perfectly good, if narrow trail, finally up to the southern end of the ridge. The scars from the reclaimed road will last for centuries, but already the ground has largely returned to its original grassy slope, apart from the narrow trail. It was a pleasant stroll with unobstructed views to south and east. Once up on the narrow ridge, I turned north and slogged up the long steep slopes to the high section of the ridge top.

It was quite spectacular standing on the very top of the ridge, whose eastern escarpment was an unbroken sweep of cliff. Soon I came over a rise and there ahead of me was the lookout building, surrounded by various other structures including a solar panel, a strange tank, and an aeriel.

It is sad to have to record that things have completely changed from just a few years ago. One would always be greeted by a friendly lookout person and often invited to share a cup of tea, as was the case on my last visit here with RH in 1992. Now, entirely due to the awful disappearance of the lookout lady from the Athabasca lookout, everything has changed. A fence rings every lookout, with signs telling hikers not to cross the line. And it appears that very often the lookout person – often a lone girl - will not come out to greet you, even when it is a quiet weekday afternoon. It makes sense of course, but it is still a sad reflection of the times we now live in.

Such was the case today. I waited a while, taking a good look all around the mountain world, with my binoculars, and having a snack to eat. I then walked around the fence, to the other side of the lookout, admiring the new loo which had been recently completed. But after a while, when nobody came out to say hello, and the clouds seemed to be building up again to the west, I sadly turned around and started back down the ridge.

This time, however, I came to a break in the cliff, where the direct route heads steeply down the ridge. I made fast work of the return journey down to the little cairn which marked the completion of my ridge circuit. The rest of the hike was a pleasant stroll back down the long forest slopes back to the car. I had seen one deer and no people - and no bears of course. Looking back up the ridge, I could hardly believe that I had just been right up there in the sky.

Returning to the campsite, I settled in for a relaxing evening by a warm fire, as a small handful of campers made themselves at home, nobody particularly close. A family with several kids all under five, was enjoying the excitement of perhaps the first camping trip for some of the younger ones. I strolled down to the river’s edge, a peaceful place to sit for a while. There were a few light showers but I stayed dry thanks to a tarp I had erected over the picnic table. Then around 9pm the skies suddenly cleared, and the temperatures started to drop rapidly.

By 10 pm I was ready to crawl into my tent and I was soon asleep. This had been an enjoyable hike – even if I wasn’t served tea at the top!


Statistics
Raspberry Ridge Lookout
Fri. 11 June

Total Dist. 11.8 km (hike)
Height Gain 2116 ft.
Max. Elev. 7730 ft.
Time on trail 3 hrs. 29 mins.

Sat. 12 June: Cat Creek Hills
My campsite had a nice view of the grassy meadows along Cataract Creek, and the ground was white with a heavy frost. The sun was lighting up the higher slopes of the hillside opposite, and soon dropped down to shine through the trees onto my tent. It was going to be a perfect day.

I was on my way by 7.30 am, the few other campsite residents still fast asleep. I exchanged a friendly wave with the guy who runs the campsite as I drove out towards the Forestry road. My objective today was the Cat Creek Hills. As the winter gate at Highwood Junction was still closed, I would bike beyond the gate to Cat Creek. In fact, this was the last weekend before the gate opens on June 15th, so I wanted to enjoy the peace of the Highwood for the last time this year.

Although there were a couple of other vehicles parked at the gate, I appeared to be the first biker up the road today. It was already a perfect morning, with clear blue sky, and temperatures starting to warm up. Nevertheless, as I reached the top of the hill and started to coast down the other side, I had to stop to put on my jacket as the wind was cold.

I was soon at Cat Creek where I hid my bike at the north end of the parking area in the trees. The grassy meadow here, by the edge of the Highwood River, with stunning views of the Elk Range peaks, is one of my favourite places. Here the Cataract Creek interpretive trail starts. I planned to explore that trail later today. I strolled up onto the deserted highway, and walked down to the Cat Creek bridge.

My plan was to do a clockwise circuit of the Cat Creek Hills, climbing to the highest point of these hills on my way round. I had with me a detailed map of the complex trails which start from the bridge, and I carefully followed this map all the way round. It turned out to be accurate, which was lucky as I might otherwise have become totally lost. The old Highway 40 looped around here, and I think the Cat Creek picnic area was once a campsite. The old bridge across Cat Creek, further upstream, has been removed, although the solid concrete walls still stand on each side of the fast-flowing stream.

Here I turned uphill, onto a series of coal mine haul roads connected by zig-zag trails. At one time this was a mining area, but of course it has long since reverted back to nature. Already there were stunning vistas of snow-capped peaks, framed by the forests and woods, with the bright green of the springtime leaves shining in the sun under a cloudless blue sky.

At a helpful small stone cairn, my trail turned right, away from Cat Creek, and climbed steadily up the heavily forested hillsides on an old mine access road. But the alders had been steadily taking over, leaving only a narrow trail. Luckily the leaves had not yet opened up on the bushes. In a couple of weeks, this trail will have largely disappeared from view. Higher up, the trail turns into a narrow creek, luckily not too wet, before widening out again, and zig-zagging high up onto the ridge top. It seemed quite a long and steep ascent and so I was glad to make it out onto the much drier and warmer ridge.

Although on the wide, forested ridge, I still had some way to go to reach the summit. Turning to my left at the trail junction, I made my way through the trees, first on level ground, then climbing to a higher level. To my left I came to the steep edge of the ridge, with superb views across to the snowy Highwood Ranges. To my right I could see the higher ridgeline that I would be following later. Finally I came out above the trees onto the open saddle, where I turned again to my left to reach a grassy top. But there was still a final hill ahead of me. Dropping down to a saddle, I then carefully made my way up the final ridge on loose rock, with a steep cliff on my left, so coming to the summit of the Cat Creek Hills.

There was no cairn and the trees came up to the ridge top. But the views were superb. South was the pointed summit of Junction Mountain – my destination twice in two weeks in March. Westwards the Cat Creek Hills were spread out below me, and behind them the snow-covered Front Ranges. Far below was the Highwood Valley.

I followed the high ridge line of the Cat Creek Hills westwards, contouring just to the left of the prominent “knob” of rock, which from below looks like the summit of these hills – but is quite a bit lower than the real summit. Steep grassy hillsides led to a col, then another contour to the left of the next rounded summit. From there it was a long steep descent on grass right down to the valley floor where the old highway once ran.

This section, although steep, was a delight, with sturdy trees - some now dead, but still standing - framing the mountains, red lichen-covered rocks, and photogenic ridges and hillsides spread out below me. There were early signs of spring wildflowers in the grass, and this would be a colourful place to walk in a week or two from now.

Once back down in the valley, I turned north for the final leg of the circuit, past the dilapidated elk corral. The old mining camp road branched off to the left, up the forested slopes. This final stage along the camp road was a highlight of the trip, maintaining a superb vantage point above the valley. And so back to the old road bridge at Cat Creek.

As a final much-anticipated leg of this hike, I decided to cross the creek and visit Cat Creek Falls, returning to my bike along the so-called “interpretive trail”. My feet were quite hot, but as soon as I stepped into the water, they quickly cooled down. In fact the water was almost unbearably cold. Luckily it was less than a foot deep in the middle. The trail soon reached two tiny footbridges, and then ahead was a small, but pretty waterfall.

There had been a small rockfall across the trail, but this was easily navigated. The setting, in a tall, cool, canyon, was very peaceful. Many years ago there had been a large coal mining camp here, and one could imagine that hot and dusty miners would have found the pool below the falls an irresistible place to clean themselves off.

The interpretive trail back to the start of my hike rose up onto a hillside with superb views down the valley and then up towards the Highwood Pass. As I sat on a convenient bench, I could see that the road was busy with bikers heading in both directions, enjoying the last car-free weekend of the year. I stopped by the edge of the Highwood River where the swirling waters would have made a very dangerous crossing.

Looking up to the Cat Creek Hills from the bridge, it hardly seemed possible that I had stood ABOVE that prominent knob, looking down on it. My return journey to the winter gate took no time at all. At the gate I was perhaps not surprised to find cars parked along each side of the road for hundreds of metres, and bikers returning from, or preparing to set off on, their journeys up the Highwood Pass. The weather was so perfect that just about everyone, it seemed, was outside enjoying the day. One could hardly imagine more perfect weather, or a more perfect place to be on a day like this.


Statistics
Cat Creek Hills
Sat. 12 June

Total Dist. 10 km (hike) +12 km (bike) = 22 km
Height Gain 1820 ft.
Max. Elev. 7020 ft.
Time on trail 6 hrs. 26 mins.

Statistics (Total 2 days)

Total Dist. 33.8 km
Height Gain 3936 ft.
Max. Elev. 7730 ft.
Time on trail 9 hrs. 55 mins.

Ironstone and Carbondale Lookouts

Fri. 4 June: Ironstone Lookout

Now, after a couple of weekends wandering around the Bragg Creek ski trails, the weather was warming up again, and so it was time to get back to the main agenda for the year – Fire Lookout hikes.

But even in early June, the snow can be a barrier to adventurers intent on pushing the hiking season, and the problem at this time of year is that snow shoes aren’t much help as the snow is usually too soft.

Anyway, I set off southwards on my quest to “bag” two more lookouts, the final two Alberta fire lookout locations south of Calgary which I had not yet visited: Ironstone, which lies above Coleman in the Crowsnest Pass, and Carbondale, in the Castle River area further south and east from Ironstone.

As usual, the drive down the “Cowboy Trail”, Highway 22, was a joy. Just about no traffic, and Spring in full flight. Near Millarville I saw a little speckled “Bambi” standing right beneath its mother, suckling away. All the way down the route were cattle with their young calves enjoying perfect grazing. And somewhere along the way a large wolf or coyote crossed the road at great speed, stopping to look back defiantly as I whizzed by.

This is ranching country. I passed the gate to U Lazy U Ranch, and then a little farther on, passed Bar Eleven Ranch, in a perfect Alberta foothills setting. Everything looked so green after the long winter.

In no time I had reached the Crowsnest Highway, Hwy #3, where I turned west. It had been a long time since I had traveled this route. There was now a new road which bypasses several of the various old mining communities which spread out along the Crowsnest valley. Past Turtle Mountain, site of the huge rockslide that buried the town of Frank in 1903, and into Crowsnest Pass.

At the straggling old mining town of Coleman I turned left off the highway and down across the railway line and through a few residential streets consisting of modest homes. Having studied the map carefully I found the York Creek road which leads west out of the town up into the hills. This gravel road is a popular route for snowmobilers and quad riders, and leads to a network of routes through the mountain valleys.

I passed a “staging area” for off-roaders, and crossed the lively York Creek on a narrow bridge. A few switchbacks later I arrived at the start of my first hike, beside a sign that warned me not to turn left – the road leads to a quarry.

I was soon marching up the muddy trail, fully confident of my route, despite all signs for the fire lookout having been removed (deliberately by the Alberta fire service to discourage people from visiting the lookouts).

The trail contoured around the forested hillsides above York Creek, and was faithful to my topo map - luckily, as one might easily become lost out here. There were occasional orange snowmobile/quad signs nailed to the trees, and metal signs with numbered trails at junctions. One sign pointed up a valley towards “Plane Crash”. This popular destination is the scene of a winter 1946 crash of an RCAF Dakota. It apparently took a huge effort to locate and recover the bodies using sleds. Even now, apparently, parts of the plane including a wing and engine, still lie there on the remote mountain slopes.

Just to be sure I would not get lost, I left myself some signs at the junctions – probably unnecessary, but one never knows! Soon I came to the turnoff for the fire road. I knew it was the right place as a locked gate barred the way for anyone but hikers. This rough gravel trail started its climb up onto Willoughby Ridge in a series of long switchbacks. At the first bend I could see what I might be in for, as I met my first snow on the trail. It was an overcast day but warm enough, and the melting snow made the trail into a small stream. But now snowdrifts covered the road. I put on my gaiters and MICROspikes before continuing up the hill. A snowmobile had been up here a few days ago, and so had packed down the snow enough for me to use it as a trail. Luckily, as I continued up the trail, there were several sections which were snow-free, although wet.

At the end of a long switchback, I came upon a little white bench with pink painted love signs and little pink rocks, sitting in the snow. There was an inscription written on the bench, about the power of love. I sat carefully on the bench for a snack, anxious not to break it! Higher up the forested ridge, I found that the trail was now covered by a few inches of snow, which not always held my weight. I trod as lightly as I could and slowly made it up onto the ridge top. Here the snowmobile trail swung to the left and up towards some aeriels on the northern end of the ridge. My destination, Ironstone Lookout, was sitting high above me on the top of a cliff, looking aloof and impregnable.

This next section of trail taxed all my skills and used up a lot of my luck too. I came very close to turning around defeated more than once. For here the snow had drifted several feet deep across the trail. I started to sink into the snow past my knees. The only chance of success seemed to be to stay to the very edge of the trail beside the trees, where the snow was only about a foot or so deep. But it was often deeper even here.

Just when I was about to give up, I found that the snow was holding my weight a little better. I turned uphill and, pretending I was on the final leg of Mount Everest, plodded up the steep snowy slopes, onto a higher section of the trail. And so by stages I finally clawed my way up to the summit ridge and the lookout.

The resident lookout person had a dog who saw me struggling up the trail and gave the lookout plenty of warning of this unexpected visitor – for surely nobody else would have been crazy or persistent enough to have made it up here today. I stood on the ridge-top below the lookout building to catch my breath.

The lookout came down to greet me. I have a terrible time remembering names and her name I had never heard before and promptly forgot it! I do remember that her dog is called Miko! I apologise to my kind hostess if you ever read my blog.

I was invited up to the top of the hill and so I followed. She told me she was hoping the weather would improve soon. Nobody had been up here for a couple of weeks. She asked me if I would deliver a CD and a little crystal ornament to her friend at Carbondale Lookout, which I was pleased to do. She asked me if I had seen any bears and was relieved to know that I had not. I learned that the lookouts in BC are only manned at peak times of fire danger, and so are generally closed up, unlike the Alberta lookouts. She had two tiny glass box gardens, in which were signs of some summer flowers starting to grow, despite this ridge looking like it was still in mid-winter. The views on a fine day from here would be stunning. Even today the jagged snowy mountains were spectacular, rising up into the cloud. There was only a light breeze up here today.

We bid farewell, with my promising to drop off the CD to Carbondale Lookout tomorrow. Thank heavens my return trip down through the snowdrifts was a lot easier. Somehow I was able to walk across the deepest drifts without disappearing up to my chin. Nevertheless, it was not a straightforward hike. Once again, by the way, my new boots kept my feet completely dry, even after over four hours plodding through streambeds and snowdrifts. I was relieved to reach the final switchback and leave the snow behind me. I enjoyed the final few kilometers strolling down the muddy trails back to the car.

My plan was next to drive east and then south to the Castle River area, where I would camp tonight before tackling Carbondale Lookout tomorrow morning. On my way back East, I drove through the long straggling town of Blairmore, not very busy for a weekday. I stopped to admire the large crow and its baby in the nest!

I then turned off at the Frank Slide Interpretive Centre. This modern building actually sits quite high up the side of the valley right opposite the rockslide, in a stunning position to see the whole area of destruction. I had hoped to drop in and introduce myself to the author Joey Ambrosi – we had been corresponding last year as I was updating some of his routes. And he was there today! We were glad to meet each other, and he showed me the progress of his updated hiking book, which is almost ready to publish. He just has to finish the maps. He, like myself, likes the format used by the Canadian Rockies Trail Guide authors, and so is revising his own format accordingly. We had a great chat, and agreed to meet up for a hike later in the year.

To reach the Castle River area, I turned south off the Crowsnest Highway, into a paradise. A foreground of bright green fields coloured yellow by buttercups, behind which rose intriguing foothills and a spectacular backdrop of snow-capped mountains half hidden by the swirling clouds. Turning west at Beaver Mines village, I found that the road was paved and well marked – this is the road to Castle Mountain resort, a popular winter ski area.

I then turned north onto a gravel road which leads past the trailhead for Carbondale Lookout, and ends at Castle Falls campsite. All along this road people had set up their summer camps wherever they wanted. These campsites consisted of multiple RVs, trucks loaded with quad vehicles, and family groups settling in for the weekend.

Castle Falls are really just a slight ledge in the river, but wild and fast-flowing in the spring run-off. My campsite loop was completely empty, and stayed that way! I had no problem picking my site, the best spot right opposite the Falls. It was noisy with the flow of water thundering down the river, but a perfect campsite. I strolled along the river’s edge to get the best view of the racing waters.

A little later on, the campsite attendant dropped by in his truck to see if I needed any firewood. During the summer, he lives in a trailer on an upper loop of the campsite. Perhaps I was a bit surprised when he started talking about books, and that he had a library of over 3000 books at home – not just novels, but history also. He had heard of the Stieg Larsson trilogy that I had just started, thanks to L’s advice. He told me that if I wanted a good hike, then Table Mountain just across the valley was a great hike, and snow-free now. Joey had also recommended that hike to me, so I will put it on my list.

High above the campsite to the southwest was a ridge, and on top sat the Carbondale Lookout building. Thanks to my powerful new binoculars I was able to observe it clearly. There seemed to be a bright red object next to the lookout building. For a moment I thought it looked like a car – but how absurd, I thought; I must be wrong.

The temperatures soon dropped, and even the blazing fire only just kept me warm. Perhaps surprisingly, there were absolutely no bugs of any description, not even one mosquito. They were probably busy breeding, getting ready for a grand attack in a few days time!

After a long and challenging day I was happy to crawl into my sleeping bag for an early night, it still being light outside until past 10 pm. The roar of the river did not stop me falling asleep right away.

Statistics
Ironstone Lookout
Fri. 4 June

Total Dist. 13.8 km (hike)
Height Gain 1900 ft.
Max. Elev. 6800 ft.
Time on trail 4 hrs. 31 mins.


Sat. 5 June: Carbondale Lookout

I slept well, in my deserted campsite, and there were no bears visiting me, despite cautionary advice from my campsite attendant friend. There were some light showers overnight, but the morning dawned bright and sunny, although breezy and with clouds flying across the sky. The weather might do anything today, I thought, so the usual early start seemed to be the right answer.

The trailhead for the Carbondale Lookout was just a few kilometers back down the gravel road, at a gate that I had recognized yesterday as the starting point. Again, all signs referring to the Lookout had been removed. I parked by the gate, from which there were great views of Table Mountain. Passing through the gate, I entered the forest and was soon climbing up the good trail through bright green aspens swaying in the breeze.

Soon the road curved to the left and started a long, persistently steep climb up through the trees. It was a little muddy lower down, and water ran down the road in a few places, but overall this was a very pleasant forest hike, on a good trail.

Eventually the trail switchbacked to the right and finally rose up out of the trees onto the sloping ridge. Views by now were becoming spectacular. It took another three switchbacks to reach the summit of the ridge. The Lookout came into view on the second-last leg which was now running across open hillsides. Of all the Lookout trails that I have hiked, this was one of the prettiest and the most enjoyable to walk along. The wind was quite strong up here, and there seemed to be imminent danger of a rain shower, but it stayed dry. To the west was the Continental Divide, and on the BC side the clouds piled high over the mountains. But on this eastern side, the clouds never actually came any further, and the closest to a shower were a few sprinkles of moisture in the air, carried east on the wind.

Very quickly, it seemed, I had reached the Lookout. It was only when I arrived at the very top did I realize that I was standing on the edge of an enormous cliff. The lookout buildings sat on the narrow ridge-top. I waited for about fifteen minutes hoping that the lookout person had seen me coming up the road. But when nobody came out, I walked closer to the building and shouted a greeting. Perhaps, since this was a Saturday morning, they were still asleep in bed. I did not want to go up to the cabin and knock on the door.

That was when I discovered that the bright red blob in my binocular lens the previous evening was indeed a car, a small compact car which amazingly had made it up the long steep, muddy road to the very top of the ridge, and was now neatly parked by the lookout building. So I placed the mail from Ironstone under the windshield washer blade, having added some candy bars, all wrapped in a plastic bag. I wish I could know that the lookout person had found them that morning.

With no sign of anyone to chat to, it was time for me to return down the pleasant hillside, but not before I walked along the very top of the ridge. The views all round were magnificent, and the sun made everything shine brightly. I could see my campsite by the river, far below me, and off to the west, a portion of rainbow lit up a snowy mountainside. It was with reluctance that I turned to make a very speedy descent back to the car.

Having discovered this paradise, I wanted to explore it some more, so I turned right onto the paved road, towards the Castle Mountain ski resort. The road soon turned into a wide gravel highway, sweeping towards the mountain wall. Here was a different climate – a light rain was falling, and the snow covered mountains disappeared up into the cloud. The resort at this time of year was almost deserted. A huge car park hinted at the size of crowds which descend on this area on good skiing days in winter. There were a few cottages and condos, and buildings where one would buy tickets and rent skis, but it seemed just a little forlorn today.

Driving back along the road, I next turned onto the Beaver Mines Lake road, a good gravel route to a beautiful fishing lake and campground. Several guys were standing around the end of the lake fishing, and a family group was heading out on a hike, possibly up Table Mountain.

Returning eastwards, I stopped in the General Store at Beaver Mines to admire all the useful things one could buy, including camping equipment, home made jams, souvenirs, bags of chips, and ice cream! This is a magic world, hidden away behind the Crowsnest Valley, and worth future trips.

Before heading north on the Cowboy Highway back to Calgary, I stopped off at the Lundbreck Falls, where the old main highway used to run. There is an impressive bridge over the river and the waters were thundering over the Falls, while a train snaked its way eastwards over a bridge and above the Falls.

The journey back home was swift and uneventful. Very little traffic at this time of year. To the west was the snowy line of the Front Ranges with the green foothills and grazing pastures below. This is a “must” for any visitors to Alberta. Turner Valley was in the middle of its Heritage Days fair, which I hope stayed dry, as there were huge thunderclouds massing all around. I ran into one short rainsquall which handily acted as a car wash after my dusty journey. In Calgary it was a warm Spring afternoon.


Statistics
Carbondale Lookout
Sat. 5 June

Total Dist. 8.2 km (hike)
Height Gain 1510 ft.
Max. Elev. 5910 ft.
Time on trail 2 hrs. 13 mins.


Statistics (Total)
Total Ironstone/Carbondale
Fri./Sat. 4/5 June

Total Dist. 22.0 km (hike)
Height Gain 3410 ft.
Max. Elev. 6800 ft.
Time on trail 6 hrs. 44 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.

Blackstone and Baldy Lookouts

Fri. 7 May: Blackstone Lookout

One long active day! A very early start from Calgary put me in Rocky Mountain House before 7 a.m. and in Nordegg by 8 o’clock. I filled up with gas at the general store in this ramshackle collection of buildings that makes up the village of Nordegg.

The young bearded guy at the store told me that the Forestry Trunk Road was in good shape, after the recent snow. So I headed west out onto the main Highway 11, then north onto the Forestry Road.

Damp and muddy on the edges, but firm in the middle, this road climbed over a low pass, then through gently rolling forests. About 40 km up the road I came to a tiny campsite at Brown Creek. This is where my hike would start. But where was the fire road gate? I drove up and down the Forestry road a couple of times before figuring out that the fire access road had been swallowed up by the Suncor gas well road.

A slightly uninteresting wide, muddy road leaves the Forestry Road about 600 m north of the campsite, climbing up the hillsides until at a junction, the old fire road reappears, with its locked gate.

A gentle walk up through the trees, on a trail which by now was generally snow-covered, led me fairly quickly up the side of a forested ridge and onto the top of the hill. Here sits Blackstone fire lookout. I stood at the gate for quite a while, hoping that someone might allow me up to the lookout itself. Just as I was about to give up and turn around, a friendly English voice called out that I should “come on through!”, and I walked up the road to shake hands with Hazel the Lookout.

In her early 50’s, but looking younger than that, and wearing glasses, Hazel gave me a friendly greeting. “I never get any visitors up here”, she told me – apart from an occasional quad driven by local gas well workers who would proudly show her which were their wells! Also recently several forestry vehicles had been up the hill to do some tree and brush clearing around the lookout. She said the hill was full of vehicles for a day!

I ended up spending well over an hour chatting away. And why not - she goes for weeks on end without seeing anyone at all. She told me she had arrived up there in late April.

She led me up the short ladder from her living area directly up into the observation cupola, with its grand all-round views.

Here she showed me some of the tools of the lookout’s trade; the circular map and telescope in the centre of this tiny 10ft by 10 ft space; the points of the compass marked on the walls above the windows. One might think that NW should be N, but the mountains run in a SE to NW direction, so a northern view actually looks out onto the rolling foothills.

A fold-down map shows the circular field of view of her lookout and that of her neighbours, Lovett to the NW, Baldy to the S, and Aurora to the E. The map is divided into numbered squares, and then a smaller plastic template is used to divide each of these larger squares into tiny grids. This is how the lookout identifies which GPS zone a fire is in. Accurately locating a fire is apparently a very tricky job, which is why lookouts work in groups of three, for triangulation purposes. She reckoned that her husband was one of the best fire locators, largely due to his navigation training – having been a ship’s captain before taking to the life of a fire lookout. Quite a contrast in occupations!

But as Hazel told me, modern technology hasn’t yet caught up with the lookout system, and much of the fire observation is done with pins and string! There were dozens of little pins stuck into the map, each pin representing a gas flare. This whole area is covered by gas wells, all connected by underground pipelines. So at night, Hazel sees a world full of bright lights – but they are flares not houses.

We identified the locations of a half dozen other lookouts in view from Blackstone, some as far away as 65 km. To the west, the snowy mountains formed a wall, with Blackstone Gap being one way through it, and Chungo Mountain prominent – there is apparently an abandoned lookout building on Chungo, a very remote location.

Hazel’s husband is the lookout at Baseline, just out of sight far to the south. One could make out static voices on her radio, as messages were passed from one tower to another, and with base in Rocky Mountain House. The conversation told of an attempt today to place three women observers onto their remote peaks by helicopter – I later learned that they were successful (Limestone, Cline and Falls). Her neighbour, 40 km to the east at Aurora, a young woman, called her to say she was climbing up into her lookout tower – a hundred foot climb up an exterior ladder. Hazel made a note in her log.

Hazel is a very pragmatic person, and told me that she has no problems welcoming hikers up to the lookout. Why, she told me, would someone hike all the way up to a remote fire lookout with any evil intentions. And of course in my view she is exactly right. And she herself, as she told me, is a keen hiker.

There is a fairly strict hierarchy of lookout observers based on seniority. Lookouts generally spend about five months on duty but this can vary depending on conditions (fire hazards and so on).

Eventually I decided to say goodbye. So after she took a photo of me by the lookout, I was off down the trail at a good pace. In no time I was back at the car having seen no other person, or even any animals, on this trip.

A very easy drive back down the Forestry Road, meeting only one other vehicle, and I was soon setting up camp in an empty Upper Shunda Creek campsite. Well, empty apart from a very pleasant couple, Linda and Gordon Latter, who looked after the site from their trailer home. And I mean “looked after” - despite Gordon having an artificial leg. Linda apparently places hanging plants around the campsite in summer, and even now has little pots of artificial flowers in some sites. Altogether a very well-loved and comfortable, yet small, campsite. I was the only other person staying there as far as I could see. However, Linda said that it gets over-run in the summer.



Fri. 7 May (continued): Baldy Lookout

Having set up camp at Upper Shunda by 2 p.m., I was still up for more hiking – perhaps not realizing what I was letting myself in for. This next planned hike was Baldy Mountain (also called Shunda Mountain), which rises steeply above the campsite.

A rough road – the fire lookout access road - runs up through the trees at an ever-increasing angle, up a valley, with the mountain sloping steeply up to the left of the road. Across to the right is equally impressive Coliseum Mountain, once the site of the fire lookout before it was moved across to Shunda/Baldy. Very soon I ran into snow, and perhaps rather recklessly continued to drive up the hill, following the tracks of a previous vehicle. After a little over 5 km, my better judgment reasserted itself and I carefully turned the car around, making sure that the snow was not hiding a deep ditch!

Almost immediately a truck followed by two quads came racing up the road, and with a cheery grin, the drivers kept on going round the corner and up the hill. Here at the start of my hike, there was already 6 inches of snow on the road, so I put on my MIRCOspikes, for the second time today, as they were equally handy on the slippery snow and mud of Blackstone trail. I also carried my snowshoes on this trip, and within a kilometer, when I left the final quad tracks behind, I put on the ‘shoes and wore them the rest of the way up and back down. I had by that time met the guys coming back down the trail, they having only made it a few hundred yards further than my own stopping place.

After a steep kilometer or so, I passed the open fire gate, which is the official start to this hike according to my guidebook. Then it got even steeper.

This was a gruelling trip, perhaps one of the toughest I had done for a long while. Part of that might be that this was my second trip of a long day, but the main problem was the increasingly deep snow cover. The day before, a couple of people had hiked down this trail from the top, their footprints visible all the way up. But nobody had tried going up the relentlessly steep road. Without snowshoes it would have been impossible. Luckily the snow was generally firm enough to avoid my sinking in, as its depth exceeded 2 or 3 feet. But there were some places where I did sink in a little, and this made it very hard work.

I kept going, round the switchbacks, slowly making my way, and mentally prepared to take as long as I needed – given the long hours of daylight. Finally I came out of the trees and ahead was another hillside! This was a bare, flat hill, on top of which stood several tall communication towers, and one lonely lookout building.

Here the snow had drifted across the road, making the going a little tricky. But eventually I rounded the hill, and up onto the flat top. Beyond the antenna towers the lookout building stood all alone, raised above the hilltop on sturdy steel piles.

A friendly wave from the lookout told me I was welcome. So I walked the final few yards to be greeted by the well-known lookout Joe, known locally as Grandpa Joe, whose name was familiar to me from my chat to Sharon at Bluehill Lookout a few weeks ago. He could tell I was somewhat worn out, and very kindly said that I had better come in and relax for a while.

He sat me down in his comfy armchair and proceeded to provide me with a wonderful slide show on his large computer screen. These were pictures he had taken up on Baldy but also elsewhere around Western Canada. Some fabulous sunrises, and lots of photos of his grandchildren, other family members, and visitors to the lookout – who apparently number from 1700 to 2000 in a typical year – including many who come up every year and now bring their kids. In summer he can drive his car all the way up the steep road.

Some of his photos told the story of a large truck, carrying sections of communication tower, which rolled back down the hill and flipped over completely upside down. It took a large caterpillar tractor (Cat) to drag it off the hill. Joe had told them they needed a double axel but they figured “what did he know” and found out the hard way that he was right. A large cement truck even made it up the hill, pulled by a Cat. These communications towers are huge structures, and needed deep foundations. They belong to the cell-phone companies I think, and are major relay stations.

The lookout itself is only four years old, and has some nice wooden decking and stairs, prefabricated in Rocky Mountain House or Nordegg and brought up the hill in sections. The original lookout was much closer to the tall masts. Joe took me up to the spacious 10 ft by 10 ft cupola above the living area, accessed by an outside staircase. The views from here were breathtaking, especially westwards into the heart of the Rockies, with Abraham Lake clearly visible. Shunda (Baldy) lookout is apparently the highest lookout in Canada which has a weather station. There are other higher lookouts but too high apparently to be of use for weather station purposes.

Joe, before he became a lookout 19 years ago, used to be a cowboy living in central southern BC. When I told him I had a GPS for a little additional peace of mind, he told me he never worried about getting lost, and the secret was never to panic. There was always a road or a river which would lead to safety. He told me he has a pet fox which is as friendly as a dog! His slide show included some nice pictures of the fox at his door.

His nice warm cabin soon revived me, and so after we had visited the cupola, and he had taken a photo of me up there, I started back down the hill. What awesome people these lookouts are. Gracious hosts but hard-working and skilled protectors of our environment. Thank you Joe and Hazel.

The return journey was an entirely easier exercise. In fact, it was an enjoyable trip striding down the steep snowy trail with full confidence in the traction provided by my snowshoes.

Once back at the car, I carefully navigated the slippery road back down to the campsite. By then it was close to 7 p.m.

I started a good fire, and made myself a bowl of chunky chicken noodle soup which was a bit light on the chicken.

This was a very quiet campsite, set in the trees. I saw my first mosquito of the season but it was a brave and probably short-lived insect given the cold temperatures. The skies had been gradually clearing this evening, and with that, the already cool temperatures were dropping rapidly. I crawled gratefully into my sleeping bag, tucked three warm blankets around me, and fell asleep in no time at all.



Statistics
Total for both hikes
Fri. 7 May

Total Dist. 18.2 km
Height Gain 2400 ft.
Max. Elev. 6831 ft.
Time on Trail 6 hr. 51 mins.
(incl. 2 hrs.4 min. at tops chatting to lookouts!)

A "Trilegy" in Banff National Park

Sun. 2 May: Castle Lookout


What’s the word for three hikes in a day? A trilogy on foot? A tripedy? Anyway, today I headed for Banff National Park, making use of my annual Parks pass, to conquer two more lookouts plus one other trip I had been meaning to do for many years. A watery sun was shining through the clouds as I left Calgary behind me. As I headed west, the clouds started to thin out, and there was hope for a sunny day in the mountains. There had been showers earlier this morning, and the road through Banff Park was still damp. Traffic was very light.

Turning off the TransCanada Highway at Castle Junction, I crossed over the railway line, then turned left on the old 1A highway. Soon I was in the empty Castle Lookout car park, hidden in the trees below Castle Mountain. This mountain dominates the skyline as you drive west from Banff, and here I was directly underneath the towering cliffs.

My hike today would take me 1800 vertical feet up the lower forested slopes to the site of an old fire lookout, directly under these cliffs. Being an old fire access road, the grade was ideal for hiking, but climbed relentlessly up the forested mountainside. The pathway was wide and obviously well used. With a few minor exceptions, the path was dry and snow/ice free. After about 1.5 km I came across the ruins of an old cabin, which apparently dates back to the late 1800’s. It is now sadly just a pile of wood.

Soon the road ended, and the narrow trail started to switch-back up the mountain, up a cliff-band, and across a rocky gulley.

Then up on more switchbacks, across steep, open slopes, until finally the path emerged from some trees onto an open ledge, directly below the vertical mountainsides. Here the lookout building once perched, on the edge of a cliff, with an unobstructed panorama of the Bow River valley below. It surprised me how small this flat space was. The foundation of the building was still there, but there were no other signs of the old lookout, which was abandoned in the 1970’s then accidentally burned down by hikers in 1983.

A pathway ran up through the trees to the bottom of the towering cliffs, where there is apparently a climbing hut. Some light snow was spitting down, and there was a light snow cover on the ground up here.

All around were mountains smothered in layers of cloud, but there was some sunshine too. It seemed as if a shower might be sweeping in from the west, so I did not stay very long.

Soon I was racing down the switchbacks, with the confidence that only MICROspikes can give you that I would not slip and fall over the cliffs below! I met one guy close to the top, who had hoped to catch the sun, but now thought it would snow. In fact it stayed dry all day. It didn’t take me long to get back to the car. Except for that one hiker, I had Castle Mountain to myself this morning. That was the end of my solitude for the day.



Sun. 2 May: Johnston Canyon



A short 6 km drive east along route 1A from Castle Mountain Lookout brought me to one of the tourist hot-spots of the Canadian Rockies: Johnston Canyon. The guidebook warns that the only time to get any solitude here is early in the morning. But it was already late morning, and there were quite a few cars and a mini-bus parked, with a handful of warmly clad tourists heading up the path to the canyon.

As it turned out, this was never overpowering, as it would probably be in the summer. I suspect that today was almost the first day that the path was entirely ice-free and safe for people to walk along.

And what a path! It follows the canyon for over two kilometers, largely clinging to the sides of the canyon on metal walkways connected to the rock walls.

The views of the river below are grand. And there are two awesome waterfalls. Everyone makes it to the lower falls. This is a worthy destination. A hole has been drilled in the rock to allow you to stand directly in front of the falls.

As I continued up the path towards the upper falls, the tourists started to thin out. The upper falls can be viewed from below and from above.

By the time I reached the upper viewing platform, I was on my own! Simply spectacular! The water plunges down into a deep pool far below, with a great thundering roar. There was still plenty of snow and ice clinging to the cliffs all round. Here the interpretive trail ends, and the hikers path carries on up to the Inkpots, some bubbling springs in a meadow a further 3 km up the valley.

I turned back and followed the path all the way down to the start. By now there were several groups of tourists enjoying the views, but never too many to become overwhelming.

It was a perfect day to visit this popular destination. To this point, I had always avoided Johnston Canyon as simply another tourist destination, to be missed because of the crowds, but I am glad to say that I have now “been there and done that”!



Sun. 2 May: Tunnel Mountain Lookout

Now for the final hike of the day. It doesn’t take long to get from Johnston Canyon to Banff, along the scenic forested route 1A, then onto the Trans-Canada Highway. I was lucky enough to be stopped by a goods train at the crossing in Banff. The town was bustling with shoppers as I drove along Wolf St., crossing Banff Avenue, up to Grizzly St. A car park on St. Julien Road is the official starting point for the Tunnel Mountain hike. Elk were happily grazing on the grassy slopes just above the parking area.

The Tunnel Mountain path is one of the oldest in Banff, and popular with the locals. It switchbacks at a gentle angle up the wooded hillside to the site of the old fire lookout on the rounded summit. Today it felt almost Mediterranean, with the wind now warm, and the smell of the pines. There was a steady flow of people enjoying this beautiful trail: someone with a baby stroller, older couples, family parties with young kids and dogs, people jogging up the hill. But well spaced out, so I still felt as if I almost had the place to myself.

Reaching the forested summit ridge, the views of Banff and the Bow Valley were already superb. This hill sits right in the middle of the wide Bow Valley. It was called Tunnel Mountain as the railway builders originally thought they would have to tunnel through it, but then found a way around its flanks. The back side of the mountain is a steep cliff. Here the views of Rundle Mountain, the river, and the golf course spread out below, are fine.

Soon I was on the summit, where a large family party was enjoying a lunch in the warm wind.

Here a lookout tower once stood, long since removed. Apparently back in the 1930’s, Queen Elizabeth (The “Queen Mother”) and King George VI stood on this summit, which seems rather surprising!

The Tunnel Mountain trail has remained one of Banff’s most popular trails – for very good reason.

The smooth rocks are ideal for sitting on and admiring the views directly down into Banff townsite, as well as to the Banff Springs Hotel, standing all alone in the forest.

My return journey was speedy! It took only 22 minutes to whizz back down to the car, an enjoyable fast hike! Plenty of people were still making their way up the hill on this warm, mostly sunny afternoon. A shower was always a possibility, but I stayed dry all day.

More traffic on the road as I returned to Calgary, but beautiful blue sunny skies. The clouds over Calgary showed that there were showers over the city and prairie. I had made the best of this narrow weather window, and had managed to climb over 3000 ft today on my “Trilegy”! YES – that’s the word.

Statistics
Total for all 3 Banff Hikes
Sun. 2 May

Total Dist. 17.6 km (hike)

Height Gain 3047 ft.
Max. Elev. 6600 ft.
Time on Trail 4 hr. 33 mins.