PART TROIS: BACKPACKING THE CONTINENTAL DIVIDE

BANFF NATIONAL PARK & MT. ASSINIBOINE PROVINCIAL PARK

MUCHO MOOSES

The French word of the day is “moustique”, which translates to “mosquito” in English. As in “Our campsite at Upper Twin Lake was full of Moustiques” (not mystique).

We woke to the sound of rain beating on the tent fly. Groan. When embarking on a 7-day backpacking trip, you really have to expect some rain. Right at the beginning of the trip is the worst possible time for it though. Stalling wasn’t an option, as we were meeting our shuttle driver at the trailhead at 9:30. We reluctantly crawled out of our sleeping bags and prepared to break camp.

The best feature of the Johnston Canyon campground is the picnic shelters. We had cooked and eaten dinner the previous night in one. Since it was still raining, we threw everything in the car and drove back down to the shelter. We then used the protection of the roof to load our packs. We were able to keep everything dry (except the tent, of course). We might be hiking in the rain, but at least our gear would be dry.

We drove back towards Banff, and spotted an elk along the Bow River Parkway. This stretch of road was the second best area of the trip for spotting wildlife. We spotted bear, deer, and elk on several occasions there. We drove through Canmore to the Spray Lakes Reservoir, which was the best wildlife viewing area. We were cruising along the dirt road, when Christy slammed on the brakes.

Right along the road was a mama moose with a baby. Both were so intent on munching on the vegetation that they hardly noticed us. Just ahead of us was a grazing deer. The deer wandered towards us, and approached the moose. That got mamas attention. She strode out into the road to confront the deer. I couldn’t believe I was seeing this. What was that deer thinking? The moose was the size of a horse. The deer reconsidered, and ran off into the woods. The show was over, so we headed on towards the trailhead.

Beyond the reservoir, we turned off the main road at a sign for the Mount Shark trailhead. Moments later we passed a muddy field, where another moose was grazing. We continued on to the parking area, where we met Bob from Gitty Goat Adventures. We left our car there, and Bob drove us all the way to Vermillion Pass for $140 (Canadian). That may sound like a lot, but it’s a long drive. It took about 90 minutes to get there.

Bob is an interesting fellow. He spends most of his days driving hikers and mountain bikers around to various trailheads. He enjoys hiking himself, but doesn’t get many opportunities, since summer is his busy season. He had planned to join a group for a hike at Sunshine Meadows (where we’d be on Tuesday) but had to cancel because of work. He provided a great service for us, and we wished him well when we reached the Arnica Lake Trailhead near Vermillion Pass. If you need assistance with a shuttle in Banff, give Gitty Goat Adventures a call at 403-609-9992.

Shortly before reaching Vermillion Pass, the rain stopped and the clouds parted. I couldn’t believe it. It was practically a miracle. We posed for a pre-trip photo, and began the trail to Arnica Lake with a steep descent.

We headed down to oddly named Vista Lake (no vista). Vista Lake was not terribly impressive. In fact, it wouldn’t be a stretch to call it ugly. The far shore was decorated with dead trees, and there wasn’t much else to look at. Despite this, we stopped there for lunch. I was carrying a heavy load, and wanted to eat lunch (which included 2 apples) before starting up the 2000’ climb to Arnica Lake.

As you may imagine, a backpack full of gear and 7 days worth of food weighs a ton. Christy calls me her sherpa, and the reason for that was quite evident on this trip. I was carrying a bag full of heavy things – a tent, stove, fuel, a couple of pots, and a lot of food. Christy was carrying things made of yarn and feathers – a sleeping bag and clothes. I’m not sure, but there may have been a pillow in there, too.

After lunch, we began a long, steady climb towards Arnica Lake. The trail led up a hillside that was ravaged by a forest fire some years earlier. Young pine trees were sprouting everywhere, but there was no shade. The sun was now out in full force, making for a hot climb. On the upside, the open hillside provided nice views north and east to rocky peaks. The sheer wall of Mount Storm King towered high above.

We reached Arnica Lake, where we paused for a well-deserved break. The lake was nice (compared to Vista Lake, it was spectacular) but better scenery was still to come. After a snack, we continued on the trail, up through a muddy, buggy stretch of forest. We crested a ridge a little below treeline, and splashed down a wet path to Upper Twin Lake. Upper Twin is pretty, as it is tucked back in against the cliffs of Mount Storm King. For our purposes, it was a very welcome sight, as it brought the end of our first day.

We had only covered 5 miles, but we had knocked off the biggest climb of the trip. There are 5 campsites at Upper Twin Lake, but 3 of them were full of mud puddles. We selected site #4, which was small, but dry and well off the trail. We hadn’t seen anyone on the trail, but a large group of kids from a YMCA camp were already at the campground. They were camped in an illegal site right on the lakeshore. They seemed pretty rowdy at first (one of them fell in the lake), but must’ve been tired from their hike, because they quieted down pretty quickly. We did as well. After a hearty spaghetti dinner, we headed to bed early. The mosquitoes were vicious, and we were tired of battling them. Plus, one of the longest, toughest hikes of the entire trip was waiting for us the next day.

B.F.E.

The French word of the day is “poulet”, which translates to Chicken. As in “Our dinner of Caribbean Rice and poulet would’ve been much better if Christy had remembered to pack the “poulet”.

We were up early for the long hike to Egypt. It was a shockingly cold morning, so a warm breakfast would’ve been much more satisfying than the bagel and tang we settled for.

We broke camp and were on the trail at 8AM. We descended to Lower Twin Lake, which is a bit more scenic than the upper lake. From there we climbed gradually through the woods towards Gibbon Pass. We passed dozens of marmots, and finally reached the pass right at treeline. The views ahead were somewhat limited, but were a bit better back in the direction we had come.

A long steep descent to Redearth Creek followed. At the bottom we passed another backcountry “lodge” and headed up the valley. A few minutes later we reached a junction with a confusing sign. Somehow I interpreted it correctly, and we turned left to reach the foot of Shadow Lake.

The view of Mount Ball from the lake is a jaw dropper. It was only 11:30, but we couldn’t rush past this spot. Instead we stopped for an early lunch. While we were there, several people wandered up to the lake from the lodge. They were the first people we had seen that day.

After lunch we followed a muddy trail through a marshy area as we hiked towards Ball Pass Junction. Despite the water, mud, and mosquitoes, this was an enjoyable trail. Numerous open meadows provided views of the surrounding peaks, and the walking was pretty easy.

We stopped for water and a break at the Ball Pass Junction Campground, but didn’t linger long. This area harbored the worst mosquitoes of the entire trip. They were brutal in the middle of the afternoon. I can’t imagine what they would’ve been like in the evening. Fortunately (or unfortunately) we still had 5 or 6 miles to go to our campsite at Egypt Lake.

Another gentle ascent led up through woods and meadows to Haiduk Lake. Haiduk is a pretty tarn nestled at the foot of cliffs below Whistling Pass. We took a brief break at the lake, and a group of hikers passed by heading the other way. One guy was carrying a hiking stick the size of a small tree. I hate to think how much it weighed.

The trail beyond Haiduk Lake changed character dramatically. An abrupt steep climb led up into Whistling Valley. Whistling Valley is a narrow, rocky notch between cliffs that is named for the shrill cries of the many resident marmots. Either that, or for the wheezing and gasping from exhausted hikers. The pass is one of those nasty climbs with multiple false summits. Several times, it looked like we were about the reach the crest, only to find more climbing ahead. Finally we scaled a steep, slippery snowfield and reached the top. The view from the top was quite scenic. Even better, it was only 5pm, and we had only a couple of miles of downhill hiking to go.

Well, that’s what we thought. The trail down to Egypt Lake was rough. We passed a side trail to Mummy Lake, climbed a bit, and then began switchbacking down the face of a cliff. The trail was rocky and a little precarious. We were already exhausted from our long day, so it was a huge relief when we finally reached the bottom. We wandered into the camping area, and selected site #14 more or less at random.

We set up camp, and hiked over to the official cooking area for dinner. We were both having trouble believing that we had “only” hiked 12 ½ miles that day. While we were enjoying our Caribbean rice without chicken, Christy analyzed the map. According to the map, we had covered 14 miles. The guidebook had claimed it was 12 ½, but after hiking 10 ½ hours (including lunch and breaks), I think the map was correct.

While cooking, we met the resident ranger who warned us of a grizzly encounter in the campground earlier that day. Apparently a solo hiker had stopped near the shelter when a grizzly wandered out into the adjacent meadow. The grizzly stood up on his back legs and woofed, before running off into the woods. We assured the ranger that we would be particularly careful while we were in the area.

At dinner, we met a nice couple from Edmonton. They had extra instant mashed potatoes that they shared. The girl was fascinated with our meal, as we had brought fresh snow peas to go with the rice (and the forgotten chicken). She was planning a separate trip that weekend into Mount Assiniboine from the Mount Shark Trailhead. Oddly, she would be hiking in on Saturday on the same trail we’d be hiking out. We made plans to look for each other on Saturday before we headed back to camp. Christy and I went to bed around 9 that night, despite the fact that it was still more than an hour before dark.

SUNSHINE?

The French word of the day is “Froid”, which translates to cold in English. As in, “It was extremely Froid when we got up Tuesday morning.” This should not be confused with the Noid, which was the character in the Dominoes Pizza commercials some years ago. Coincidentally, “the Noid” made pizzas cold.

We woke to frost the next morning. The temperature was in the upper 20’s when I got up at 6:45 for a short walk to Egypt Lake. The campground is some distance from the lake itself, but I wanted to see it before we headed out. Christy took one look at the frost on the tent fly and told me to wake her when breakfast was ready.

It only took about 10 minutes to walk over to the lake. Nobody else in the campground appeared to be awake, and I had the lake all to myself. It was a crystal clear morning, and the peaks above the lake were reflected in the calm water. I was glad to see that it was a clear morning. Later that day, we’d be hiking through Sunshine Meadows. That stretch of trail stays at or above treeline for 8 or 9 continuous miles, and I was really looking forward to the scenery.

I returned to camp, and went to the cooking area to make hot chocolate and oatmeal. Christy arrived about the time the sun was peeking above the mountain to the east. I wasn’t long before the bright sun had warmed the morning up considerably.

The cold morning had slowed us down, so we didn’t actually break camp until 9:30. We left the valley, climbing gradually on a good trail toward Healy Pass. As we neared treeline, we entered subalpine meadows full of wildflowers. Indian Paintbrush, Drummonds Anemone, and countless other varieties added color to the already stunning scenery. Once we cleared the trees, we had outstanding views back toward the peaks and lakes we had left behind. Ahead of us, miles of rolling meadows led towards more craggy peaks, highlighted by the massive spire of Mount Assiniboine far in the distance. It looked so far away, it was hard to believe we’d be at the foot of it in only a day and a half.

After a lengthy mid-morning break, we headed down through more flower-filled meadows. We reached a junction with the trail down Healy Creek, but opted for the trail less traveled toward Simpson Pass. We paused at a small lake for lunch, where we first noticed high, light clouds streaming in from the west.

After lunch, we hiked through Simpson Pass, which really isn’t much of a pass at all. It did take us right along the border of Alberta and British Columbia, which follows the Continental Divide. Beyond the “pass” we began a long, steady climb that looked easy on the map. It wasn’t. In fact, it was quite pesky, and seemed endless. As we climbed, we noticed the clouds building overhead. All traces of that morning’s brilliant sunshine were gone. We could only hope we’d make it through the meadows and on to camp before the rain came.

We finally reached the top at the edge of Sunshine Meadows. 2 minutes later, the rain caught up to us. I was feeling pretty grumpy about this as we put on our gore tex and our pack covers. We headed out through the meadows, huddled under our hoods as the cold rain pelted us.

The rain wasn’t entirely bad. The clouds were high enough that we still had some views. The main advantage though was that it cut down on the crowds. Sunshine Meadows is a popular ski area, and the resort provides easy access for tourists in the summer. The weather chased most of them away, so we had the meadows largely to ourselves. We passed the ends of several ski lifts, and curved around the meadows, avoiding the resort itself. The highlight of Sunshine Meadows was probably Rock Island Lake. It’s only a small pond, with an even smaller, rocky island in the middle. Craggy distant peaks obscured by mist made for a fascinating scene.

We got water at the lake, and resumed the hike through the southern end of the meadows. The rain had paused for a while, but it resumed well before we reached camp. One final pesky climb led to the top of Quartz Ridge. From there, we descended a steep, eroded path to tiny Howard Douglas Lake. We found our campsite in the woods just beyond the lake.

To be honest, most of the backcountry camping in Banff was disappointing. The hiking was incredible, but the campsites could’ve been better. Camping is limited to a few designated areas, and the campgrounds are usually pretty busy. Facilities such as picnic tables and toilets are helpful, but we’ve always preferred camping on our own. In most of the Canadian Rockies in the summer, that’s just not possible.

The campsites at Howard Douglas Lake were probably the worst of the trip. There were 5 sites, but really it was one site with room for 5 tents. If you camp there, plan on squeezing your tent in between those of your neighbors.

The good news was that our neighbors were pleasant. We met Dave while cooking dinner and he let us share his tarp. Dave had hiked in from Sunshine Village, and was heading the same way we were. Dave is a taxi cab driver in Cleveland. He works 10 months or so each year, and saves enough money to take a long hiking trip each summer. This year, he was spending several weeks in the Canadian Rockies, before heading to Washington, Oregon, and California. And I thought I was doing well with 4 weeks in the Canadian Rockies! I liked Dave’s style. Dave has a website featuring his nature photography. Check it out at www.livingcolorworks.com.

We also met a fellow whose ancestors were from Valle Crucis, NC. He was related to the Belk’s and Doherty’s – two families who were instrumental in the establishment of my alma mater, Appalachian State University in Boone. It was a pretty amazing coincidence to meet him there in Banff, most of the way across the continent.

We only had a little drizzle to contend with that evening. We went to bed early again, tired from our 11 ½-mile day. I could only hope that the weather would clear out by morning, when we began our 14-mile hike to Mount Assiniboine.

GRIZ!

The French word of the day is “Ours”, which translates to bears in English. As in “Christy was hoping we wouldn’t see any Ours at close range while hiking in Canada. Especially grizzly Ours”.

I rolled out of the tent early the next morning and was greeted by a clear sky. This was a huge relief, as we still had several miles of hiking above treeline ahead of us. We ate a quick breakfast, and began our 14-mile hike to Mount Assiniboine at 8:30.

The day began with some easy strolling through alpine meadows and subalpine forest. As we hiked, we got a great look at all of the scenic views we had missed in the rain the previous day. Before long we began the ascent to Citadel Pass and the continental divide.

Citadel Pass sounds formidable, but it’s not, if you’re coming from the north. Coming from the south is a different story. We reached the pass easily, and enjoyed a sweeping view back across Sunshine Meadows. Ahead, the pinnacle of Mount Assiniboine towered above a sea of rugged peaks.

We descended gradually into British Columbia. Before long, we entered subalpine forest. A few minutes later, we found ourselves switchbacking steeply down toward the Golden Valley. This is when we first heard it. Distant, panicky voices were hollering. What was all the racket about? After a minute, I made out what they were yelling. “Hey bear! Hey bear!” My first thought was, “O brother, here come some paranoid hikers.” Authorities suggest making lots of noise when in grizzly habitat to alert them to your presence. Some hikers take this advice to heart. Many wear little bells on their backpacks (oddly, bells are frequently found in bear scat). Others converse loudly, or even sing (100 bottles of beer on the wall is a popular choice). I wouldn’t be surprised if one day I pass a hiker beating two pots together. The most popular choice though, appears to be periodically yelling “hey bear”. I was sure this is what we were about to encounter.

We don’t go out of our way to make a lot of noise, as peace and quiet is one of our primary purposes for going on these trips to begin with. After a couple minutes of “hey bear”, I began to suspect this was more than just a couple of paranoid hikers. Then we heard more spirited yelling, included key phrases such as “get out of here, bear”, and “go on, bear”. It occurred to us that these other hikers must’ve actually seen a bear. It also occurred to us that they were coming up the mountain towards us.

We were still descending a steep mountainside in heavy foliage. It was exactly the sort of area that you don’t want to encounter a bear. Because of all of the greenery, we could only see a few feet in any direction. We began moving much more slowly, and, um, making some noise.

We turned a corner, and I heard Christy behind me say, “Oh, there he is”. I froze, and looked through the vegetation on the right side of the trail. There was a grizzly bear browsing in the foliage about 20 feet away. Experts would agree that we were entirely too close. We were both carrying bear spray strapped to our packs, but inexplicably we grabbed our cameras instead. Christy turned hers on, and it made its typical strange noise. The bear must’ve heard it, because he turned in our direction and “woofed”. I think I peed a little. The sound of a bear “woofing” is completely indescribable, but it is fully capable of ruining a perfectly good pair of underwear. Fortunately, he didn’t find us very interesting. He moved farther away, munching on the vegetation as he went.

A couple of minutes later, a traumatized German couple came up the trail. They had spotted the bear at the bottom of the hill, and had been flushing it ahead of them ever since. They continued on up the next switchback, in the direction that they bear had gone. A couple of minutes later we heard more yelling, including a third male voice. It sounded like Dave wasn’t far behind us, and he had found the bear, too.

We continued down the mountain, moving cautiously through the dense vegetation. We finally emerged from the jungle at an overlook that provided a nice view of the Golden Valley far below. We found a junction here, where a side trail descends into the valley to the Porcupine Campground. The shady valley and rushing stream below looked appealing, but we took the high route. We followed a rough path that clung to the rim of the gorge. Views of the peaks were extensive, until we passed over a minor ridge and left the valley behind.

We descended again into a dry, open area of scattered trees and boulders. We were looking for a lunch spot, when Christy suddenly tripped and fell, flattening a small pine tree in the process. This was alarming, as we were officially a LONG way from help. Luckily, she wasn’t hurt beyond a few bumps and bruises. We stopped for lunch there to give Christy a chance to recover. Dave passed by a few minutes later, and we related our bear stories.

After lunch, we wandered along a forested path. A bit later, we passed Dave, who had stopped for a break. We wandered passed a tiny pond, and joined the trail from Porcupine Campground. From there, we endured a number of PUDS (pointless ups and downs) before entering the desolate Valley of Rocks.

The Valley of Rocks sounds a lot more interesting than it is. We were in a valley that was completely devoid of water. We wandered among an endless variety of boulders, on a trail that seemed equally endless. The valley stretched out ahead of us toward eternity. The longer we walked, the farther the end of it seemed to be.

Finally we turned a corner as the mountain on our right ended abruptly. We crested a small rise, and looked down on Og Lake shimmering in the late afternoon sun. Mount Assiniboine suddenly reappeared, much closer and larger than when we had seen it back at Citadel Pass. We gleefully headed down to the lake, where we got water, had a snack, and soaked our aching feet. It had been a long, tiring hike, but we still had 4 or 5 miles to go.

We wandered through a shade-less campground and scrubby trees before leaving the Og Lake basin. Oddly, Og Lake has no outlet stream. Water from the lake seeps through the limestone below, and is replaced by rain and snowmelt.

Beyond the lake, we hiked through a vast meadow. It stretches for a couple of miles, and is a likely place to see a grizzly. We had already seen our “ours” for the day, and no others made appearances. We were feeling pretty drained when we finally reached the trees at the end of the meadow. From there, we wandered through a maze of trails before finding the path to the Lake Magog campground. We enjoyed more great views of Mount Assiniboine and the lake as we stumbled the last few hundred yards to camp.

We arrived at 7pm and found the campground nearly full. The Lake Magog campground officially operates on a first-come-first-served basis, but there is no practical limit to the number of campers that stay there. The next closest campground is at Og Lake, 5 miles distant. By the time most hikers get here, there’s no chance they are going farther. The previous night, a meadow near the campground had served as an overflow area. We paid the camping fee ($5 per person, per night), and quickly located 3 empty sites next to one another. Dave had caught up to us at Og Lake, so we took one site and he took another, leaving an empty one in between.

The Lake Magog Campground was my favorite of the Banff backpacking trip. It’s a large campground, but it’s spread out. It had a few amenities, including toilets (stocked with toilet paper) and drinking water. We didn’t have a view from our campsite, but a very short walk to the meadow provided a stunning view of Mount Assiniboine.

That evening we recovered as we ate freeze dried dinners while chatting with Dave. We were taking the next day off, so we’d have a chance to explore more of Mount Assiniboine Provincial Park.

OG GOG MAGOG

The French word of the day is “Repos”, which translates to “rest” in English. As in “If you lay out of work for a month or two in order to get some Repos, you may not be able to make your car payment, and Earl will Repo your car.”

We slept in a bit the next day. After cranking out close to 40 miles over the previous three days, we had a well-deserved rest day coming to us. I got up around 7:30 and strolled to the east end of the lake to get some photos of Mount Assiniboine reflected in the calm water. I returned a little later, and joined Christy for a breakfast of freeze-dried eggs.

One of the best parts of a rest day is the opportunity to clean up. After breakfast, I filled our collapsible nylon bucket with cold, soapy water so we could “bathe”. It’s hard to really get clean, but you’d be surprised how effective a bird bath can be after several days of hiking. The best part is washing your hair. Of course, that requires dunking your head in the icy water. I find it quite refreshing. The interesting part is seeing what remains in the bucket after you’re finished. On this day, I left behind about 4 pounds of (mostly) dead mosquitoes, a bird’s nest, and a small family of unidentified rodents. I guess maybe I should wash my hair a little more often.

We utilized the bucket again to do laundry before setting out to explore the park. We left the campground, and picked up the path to Sunburst Lake. Sunburst is every bit as pretty as Lake Magog, and features great views of snowy peaks including Mount Assiniboine. Just beyond Sunburst, we passed its sibling, Cerulean Lake, where we found more nice views. Just beyond, we reached a junction, and turned right towards Nub Ridge.

We climbed switchbacks through a subalpine forest full of wildflowers. Even with tired legs, the climb to the top of Nub Ridge was almost effortless. At the top of the ridge, we found a rocky meadow with an incredible view. We found ourselves looking out over the heart of Mount Assiniboine Provincial Park. Numerous lakes stretched out below, including Og, Gog, and Magog, and Sunburst, Cerulean, and Elizabeth. A jumble of glacier-mantled peaks towered over the scene, crowned by Mount Assiniboine itself.

We had an early lunch there, even though it had only taken us an hour from camp. From our vantage point, the ridge climbed behind us to the Nublet, and on to the summit of the Nub. I knew I was supposed to take it easy today, but the temptation to climb higher was impossible to refuse. Christy didn’t have this problem. I promised to return by 1pm, while she opted for a nap.

A decent though occasionally steep trail leads up the ridge to the Nublet. My tired legs felt this climb a bit, but it still took less than 30 minutes to reach the summit. The wind was howling across the ridge, but it was even stronger on the peak. A small snowfield added to the arctic nature of the experience. From the top I had even more expansive views, including a better look across the Og Lake Valley to the northeast.

A fairly obvious route continues to follow the ridge from the Nublet up to the Nub. The climb didn’t look bad, and the summit promised 360-degree views. However, I knew I’d be extremely late getting back to where Christy was waiting. Plus, I really needed to take it easy today. A few minutes later, several groups of hikers joined me on the summit. That, and building clouds to the west, gave me all the motivation I needed to head back down.

We returned by the same route, with the intention of swimming in Sunburst Lake. By the time we reached it though, rain looked inevitable. We hurried back to camp, gathered our laundry, and took shelter in the tent. We played cards for a while, and napped a bit, but the rain never came. After a while I got restless, and hiked solo to the shore of Lake Magog. As I hiked, I watched rolling black clouds fill the next valley to the south. Booms of thunder suggested that we had just missed a serious storm. A few cold raindrops fell, but that was all. I hiked to the end of the lake, at the base of Mount Assiniboine, before heading back.

On my return, I spotted an unusual animal in the woods near a small stream. The animal looked like a cross between a black cat, a fox, and a weasel. It watched me pass, and slowly moved away into the woods. I’m not sure, but I think it was probably a Mink, though it may have been a Marten. On two other occasions on the trip, Christy spotted a similar animal, but with red fur.

We spent the rest of the evening lounging around camp and hanging out with Dave. We wolfed down a huge dinner of burritos, before heading for bed. It had been a pleasant rest day, but it had hardly been enough. One or two more layover days in Assiniboine would’ve been worthwhile. The park features several other appealing dayhikes, including a 9-mile round trip to Windy Ridge. If we make it back to Assiniboine, we’ll plan on spending a little more time there.

WONDERS AND MARVELS

The French word of the day is “Boursouflure”, which translates to “blister” in English. As in, “After hiking 18 miles on Friday, my right foot was one giant Boursouflure. The left foot didn’t look much better.”

Originally we had planned to hike 8 ½ miles to Marvel Lake on Friday. That would’ve been followed by another 8 ½ miles out on Saturday. On Thursday though, we began to reconsider. We would be starting our next backpacking trip, in Kootenay National Park, on Sunday. We were pretty worn out from some of our recent high-mileage days, and the idea of a real rest day – with a hotel and a bed and a shower and beer and restaurants – was beginning to sound very appealing. The only question was whether hiking out 17 miles in a single day would be worth it. What sealed the deal was the simple fact that we were virtually out of food. After Thursday’s dinner, we were down to 2 freeze-dried dinners, 4 packets of oatmeal, and a couple of anonymous rectangular snacks. Saturday’s breakfast was eaten on Thursday, along with Thursday’s breakfast. Friday’s lunch had also disappeared somewhere along the way. I guess this is what happens when you’re burning 4000 or 5000 calories a day.

It was late on Thursday when we decided to double-up and hike the whole way out in one day. We had never backpacked that far in a single day, but we had come close a couple of times earlier in the trip. Plus, the terrain promised to be fairly gentle, once we made it over Wonder Pass and down to Marvel Lake.

We were up early, and finished off the rest of the oatmeal. We wished Dave farewell, and left Lake Magog and Mount Assiniboine behind as the first rays of sunlight began to illuminate the peak. Soon we were hiking out past the Provincial Park cabins, and heading up through the woods and meadows towards Wonder Pass. We climbed up beyond Gog Lake, passed a small waterfall, and wandered up through sub-alpine forest. At the top, we had one last look back toward the Lake Magog valley, but Mount Assiniboine was already hidden from view. Ahead of us, more peaks and glaciers stretched away to the south, toward Waterton Lakes National Park, and Glacier National Park, in Montana.

I had agreed to cut the trip short on one condition. I told Christy that I didn’t want to rush through our final day on the trail. I wanted us to take our time, and enjoy the hike. Most significantly, I wanted to do everything I would’ve done if we had been approaching it at a more leisurely pace. This is how I ended up tacking on a 1-mile side trip to an already long day.

Just beyond the pass, we reached a junction with a side trail out to the Wonder Pass overlook. The pass itself provides a pleasant view south, but the vista is somewhat diminished by cliffs immediately to the west. I wanted a better view, as the overlook would provide a great vantage of the icy headwall high above Marvel Lake and Lake Gloria. Christy felt that 17 miles was more than enough for one day, and waited for me at the junction.

I jogged down the path through the woods, moving quickly without the burden of my pack. I quickly reached the first of several overlooks that provided a stunning view of the peaks and glaciers above a huge, neon-blue lake. I continued on to two more overlooks, but these both had a handful of trees obscuring the view. I returned to the first overlook, where I rested and enjoyed the view. Then I rejoined Christy, and we began the steep, knee-pounding descent to the lake.

The trail switchbacked steeply down the face of a cliff. There was little shade, meaning that this would be a brutal climb on a sunny afternoon. This stretch of trail was the single most significant reason why I had chosen to hike from north to south. Going down wasn’t much better than climbing up though. By the time the trail leveled off above the lake, our knees and feet were throbbing.

A long, relatively flat traverse followed on a rocky trail high above the water. This was the first of several stretches of trail that seemed to go on forever. Finally we reached the far end of the lake, and followed a side trail down to the shore. We arrived in a spongy meadow at the edge of the water shortly before noon, where we had a long lunch. The spot looked like mosquito-hell, but strong winds blowing off the lake kept the bugs at bay. The lake provided water, as well as a place to soothe our aching feet. It also gave us a fantastic parting view of the mountains we were leaving behind. We had the place to ourselves, which was a nice change after the busy campground at Lake Magog. We had our final two freeze-dried dinners for lunch, and rested in the grass to recharge our batteries for the final 9 miles.

THE AGONY OF DEFEET

We had a little trouble finding the trail leading away from the lake, but finally spotted it leading back into the woods. It leads ½ mile to the Marvel Lake campsites, which is where we had intended to spend the night. The campground is in a pleasant wooded spot along a rushing stream, but it’s a fair distance from the actual lake. There we met a large group of middle-aged Canadian guys for the third time that day. We had passed them going up to Wonder Pass, only to have them go by while I was on my side trip. We had caught up to them again as they were moving slow on the way down, but they had passed us by while we were eating lunch. Now they were stopped for lunch, while we were headed for the home stretch.

We followed the path out to the Bryant Creek Trail, which is actually an old jeep road that avoids Bryant Creek for almost its entire length. Hiking the jeep road on tired feet was a tedious trudge. The forest was bland, and it was hot at our lower elevation. If that wasn’t misery enough, a new tormentor soon appeared. It wasn’t long before the horseflies found us. They particularly enjoyed attacking our bare lower legs, which were hard to defend. This could have driven us to madness, but we didn’t let it. Instead, we made a game of it. Armed with bandanas and hiking sticks, we began a spirited game of horsefly baseball. The bandanas were more effective at slapping the horseflies out of midair. The sticks took more skill, but you can’t beat the satisfying sound of speeding wood meeting the hard shell of a horsefly.

This game kept us entertained, and relatively bite-free, for a couple of hours. We took another break at a campground on a tributary of Bryant Creek, and our friends from Canada passed us by again. We caught up to them before long, as we plodded on towards the car. We finally reached a series of trail junctions near the upper end of Spray Lakes Reservoir. We stopped for a final break to cool our feet, and Christy even went for an icy swim in the Spray River. From there, we had only 3 miles to go. A pesky climb led away from the lake and river, and soon we were hustling through a heavily logged area outside of the National Park. We had seen some fantastic scenery along 100 kilometers of the continental divide, but this wasn’t exactly the climax of the trip. At this point though, even I was simply looking forward to reaching the car, and heading into town. For the next 30 minutes, every curve in the trail seemed to promise the parking lot just ahead, but each one brought only the disappointment of the continuing trail. Our only remaining diversion was trying to guess which of the many jagged peaks surrounding us was the Mount Shark the trailhead was named after. The trail went on and on, much like this paragraph. Finally we reached a gate, and the end was near. The final agony was walking all the way across the parking lot, since I had misjudged where the actual trail was when we had parked a week earlier. After 10 hours of hiking, we were finally at the car, where we enjoyed warm cokes and examined the damage to our feet.

Our friends from Canada showed up a couple of minutes later. It turns out they were parked right next to us. We congratulated them on a hike well-done and headed for town.

The wildlife was out once again along the road back to Canmore. We passed another Moose, as well as a Bighorn Sheep. We headed into town to confront our final challenge of the day. It was a Friday night during the busy summer tourist season, and we had to find a place to stay. Would all of the hotels be booked? Finding a campground might be possible, but we hadn’t hiked out 17 miles just so we could sleep in the tent again. We had reservations for a hotel on Saturday night, so I called them. We were in luck! They had a room. What’s more, they gave it to us at a discount, since we would be spending two nights instead of one.

We checked in at the Mountain View Inn, which clean and adequate, even if it wasn’t anything spectacular. We took long showers, before heading into Canmore in search of dinner. It didn’t take us long to find what we were looking for. The Grizzly Paw brewery promised everything we could want. Cheeseburgers and fries weren’t cheap, but they came with a free salad. The food was outstanding. The atmosphere was lively, even though crowded restaurants usually drive me crazy after a long trip in the wilderness. Their own homemade beer rounded out the meal nicely. Ultimately, we got all four of the critical food groups any hiker needs after a long trip. Meat, salt, fresh vegetables, and beer. Who could ask for anything more?

We got a little drunk that night, which was ok, because we didn’t have much to do on Saturday. The next day, we ran errands, did laundry, and got groceries. We mainly stayed in Canmore, which was much more enjoyable than Banff. We took lots of showers. We did go to Banff, to visit the hot springs to soak our aching muscles. The springs were a bit disappointing, but they may have helped us recover from the hike. We even did a little shopping. Christy bought me a polarizing filter for my camera for my birthday. See if you can tell the difference between the photos taken in the first two weeks of the trip, versus the last two.

Saturday night, we had a pasta dinner, and repacked for our next trip – 4 days of backpacking the Rockwall in Kootenay National Park.

The trip in review:

Starting trailhead: Vista Lake, on highway 93 near Vermillion Pass.

Ending trailhead: Mount Shark, near Spray Lakes Reservoir.

Day 1 - Vista Lake trailhead to Upper Twin Lake, 5 miles, mostly uphill.

Day 2 – Upper Twin Lake to Egypt Lake, 12-14 miles, tough!

Day 3 – Egypt Lake to Howard Douglas Lake, 11 ½ miles, where’s the sunshine?

Day 4 – Howard Douglas Lake to Lake Magog, 14 miles, mostly amazing.

Day 5 – Layover day at Lake Magog, with short dayhikes.

Day 6 – Lake Magog to Mount Shark, via Wonder Pass, 17 miles, 43 blisters.

The campsite ratings (on a scale of 1 to 5, with 5 being paradise).

Upper Twin Lakes ** - Muddy and buggy, but quiet.

Egypt Lake *** - Large and busy, but a pleasant place.

Howard Douglas Lake * - Really one campsite shared by 5 groups.

Lake Magog **** - Busy, but spread out and very scenic. Nice facilities.

And a few we didn’t stay at:

Ball Pass Junction** - Decent scenery, but unbelievable mosquitoes.

Og Lake * - Nice view, but rocky and no shade.

Marvel Lake *** - Quiet, but a fair hike to the actual lake.

Big Springs (Bryant Creek) ** - Not terrible, but nothing special.

Highlights: Shadow Lake, Whistling Pass, Healy Pass, Citadel Pass, the grizzly bear near the Golden Valley, Lake Magog and Mount Assiniboine, Wonder Pass, and Marvel Lake.

Low points: Long days, bad bugs, rain at Sunshine Meadows.

If I had it to do all over again…I would do nearly the same trip, but start at the Redearth Creek Trailhead instead of Vermillion Pass. On the first day, I’d hike in to camp at Shadow Lake. On day 2, I’d continue to Egypt Lake. That would shorten the second day considerably, and would only sacrifice some decent scenery at Arnica Lake, the Twin Lakes, and Gibbon Pass. At the end of the trip, I’d plan to hike out the whole 17 miles in one day, but I’d allow for a second layover day at Lake Magog.

The official pest of the trip: Mosquitoes.

Continue reading about our adventures in Canada, as we backpack the Rockwall Trail in Kootenay National Park.

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