DEEP THIS TIME
We
managed a slightly earlier start the next morning. We needed to descend along Cataract Creek,
but the direct route looked sketchy.
Immediately downstream was a minor waterfall. It wasn’t a huge obstacle, but getting to its
base would be a little tricky. Skirting
around through the woods wasn’t an option because the forest is
impenetrable.
Information
I’d found online before the trip suggested that descending a major tributary
originating at Cline Pass would be easier.
We weren’t far from it, so we decided to give it a try. We skirted around the woods, staying just
above tree line. We climbed to a grassy
ridge with fantastic views of Cataract Pass, Cline Pass, and the numerous peaks
and glaciers in between. From there we
began our descent towards the tributary.
Unfortunately, the tributary is down in a narrow canyon, and the descent
looked steep. We ended up on a bench
well above the creek. The grassy bench
was heading the correct direction, and we figured it would take us where we
needed to go.
We
followed the bench, roughly paralleling the creek downstream. Eventually some trees intruded, but they
weren’t thick like the ones close to Cataract Creek. Occasional mild bushwhacking was necessary,
but most of the time we were able to follow game trails. Eventually they led us into a maze though,
and it seemed like we would have to do some hardcore bushwhacking to get
out. The descent into the canyon was
even steeper here, too.
I
eventually found a route through the maze, and we ended up descending the nose
of the ridge down to the tributary just upstream from its confluence with
Cataract Creek. We found an old campsite
here, too. At this point, we were
hopeful that we’d be able to follow something of a trail the rest of the way.
We
waded the tributary and followed the main creek
downstream. This was slow going due to
awkward footing and an occasionally steep bank.
At one point I explored inland in hopes of finding a trail. I crossed several game paths, but nothing
that looked like a trail.
We
resumed our trek downstream.
Occasionally a steep bank or other obstacle would force us inland, away
from the creek. On one of those forays,
we stumbled upon a path that looked promising.
It wasn’t a groomed trail, but it looked like more than a game
trail. We decided to follow it. The trail was a lot better than our previous
route, but it was still slow going due to numerous fallen trees. By numerous, I mean that we probably crossed
several hundred that day. None of them
were huge obstacles, but the sheer number of them made for a tiring hike.
Aside
from being tedious, the hike was mostly boring.
Occasionally we were treated to views of the surrounding mountains, but
most of the time we were in deep forest.
There were a couple of exceptions.
At one point we were rewarded with a closer view of the massive
waterfall we had spotted from our campsite the previous evening. Later we found ourselves along a stretch of
the creek below impressive cliffs. The
bank of the stream was pink from all of the alpine fireweed in bloom.
Later
we found ourselves on a ridge above the creek, still in heavy timber. The creek runs through a narrow gorge here,
and the water was thundering. The placid
stream we had first crossed below Cataract Pass was now a raging torrent. We still had to cross it to get out of the
wilderness. Our only other options would
be to return all the way to Nigel Pass, or to embark on multi-day trip
downstream along the Cline River.
Neither of those options was remotely appealing.
We
eventually reached an obscure junction.
It took me a minute to realize that we had reached the trail along the
Cline River. At the junction, the trail
is actually quite a distance from the river.
I was expecting a better trail, but it didn’t look much different from
the one we had followed all day. In
fact, it may have been fainter.
We
turned right towards Pinto Lake. Before
long, we reached Cataract Creek and the ford we had worried over. Our concern hadn’t been misplaced. The creek was wide, deep, and moving
fast. Because the water is glacial, we
couldn’t see the bottom, either.
The
point where we met the creek looked dangerous.
I dropped my pack and scouted, first upstream, and then down. I found 3 possible crossings. At each spot, the stream was braided into 2
or 3 channels. That meant that the water
wouldn’t be as deep, or the current would be reduced. However, because the water was cloudy, it was
hard to judge. Dave preferred the option
farthest upstream, so I decided to test it out without my pack. I changed into water shoes and sidestepped
across the first channel, facing upstream.
The water was knee deep and pushy, but manageable. It was also ice cold! I went half way, to the deepest point. The second channel clearly had less
flow. We decided to go for it.
We
waded across, using the same technique.
It was a little more awkward with my pack on, but manageable. Mostly it was just a matter of going slow,
despite the urge to get out of the frigid water. We reached the far side, and changed back
into our boots. We were home free! There was nothing to stop us from reaching
Pinto Lake now. The next day, we’d just
have to make it up to Sunset Pass, where we’d regain good trail upon returning
to Banff National Park.
We
celebrated a little too soon. After a ½
mile, we reached Huntington Creek. I was
expecting this crossing to be easier because the creek is smaller. I was shocked when we reached the bank. The creek was flooded. Huntington Creek is smaller than Cataract
Creek, but there is a key difference.
Cataract Creek comes from a mixture of glacial melt, snow melt, and
springs and other runoff. The source of
Huntington Creek is almost entirely glacial.
While Cataract Creek had been a hazy blue, Huntington was a dark grey. Days of warm, sunny weather had resulted in
maximum glacial melt. If we had arrived
after days of heavy rain it probably wouldn’t have been this high.
I
dropped my pack and scouted upstream.
The farther I went, the worse it got.
Before long, the creek was completely out of its banks. Discouraged, I returned to discuss our
options with Dave. We considered camping
there. Perhaps the water level would be
down by the next morning? However, there
were no good places to camp, and we were out of water. Getting water from that creek would clog our
filters with silt. Plus, there was no
guarantee that the water levels would drop overnight. We couldn’t wait there indefinitely.
We
were just upstream from the confluence with the Cline River. I decided to scout that way, in hopes of
finding a possible spot. To that point,
I hadn’t seen a spot where crossing was even remotely plausible.
Just
before the confluence the stream split into two branches separated by a small
sandbar. There, it looked like crossing
might be possible. I decided to test it
out without my pack.
I
used the same technique, facing upstream and side stepping. The water was just over knee deep, but the
current was much stronger than it had been in Cataract Creek. I made it most of the way across the first
channel. The second channel was clearly
smaller. Still, I was uncertain. The water was very pushy. With our packs on, it would be difficult to
maintain our balance.
I
got out and studied the creek again. I
noticed that 20’ upstream the creek was slightly wider. This was right at the point where it split
into two channels. The difference in
width was barely noticeable – maybe 2’ or so.
Still, I decided to scout that spot.
The
difference was remarkable. The depth was
the same, but the current was much milder.
We would still need to be very careful, but I felt much better about our
chances. We went for it, and worked our
way across slowly. We reached the far
side, finally home free!
PINTO SUNSET
The
rest of the hike to Pinto Lake was pretty easy.
The trail was faint in places, particularly where it wandered through
willow swamps. That didn’t matter though
– all we had to do was follow the Cline River upstream. It was late evening when we finally arrived
at a lovely campsite on the shore of Pinto Lake, next
to the outlet that marks the beginning of the Cline River. It’s a beautiful spot. The lake sprawled out in front of us, almost
completely encircled by cliffs.
Appropriately, we arrived just in time to catch the last light high up
on Sunset Pass.
We
had another wonderful evening there, despite being exhausted from our long,
harrowing hike. A campfire rejuvenated
our spirits, and there was just enough whiskey left to toast to a successful
trip.
We
got a reasonably early start the next morning.
That was fortunate, because we spent a fair bit of time searching for
the trail up to Sunset Pass. Oddly, it
wasn’t marked at all down at the campsite or along the Cline River. I suggested bushwhacking up the slope above
the campsite, knowing that we would have to intersect the trail. Due to the terrain, that was the only place
it could possibly be. However, Dave was
done with bushwhacking. Instead, we
ended up backtracking a fair distance, before reaching a campsite near the
river. There I spotted a faint trail
heading back into the woods, away from the river. It was littered with fallen trees, but we
were used to that. We followed it, and
eventually intersected another path coming up from the river. This was actually the correct route, but we
failed to see it because it leaves the river in a willow swamp.
From
there, we followed a defined trail steeply towards Sunset Pass. There were plenty of short switchbacks, but
they didn’t seem to ease the grade much.
Frequent fallen trees added to the challenge. Despite the difficulties, we pressed on. Eventually we broke out of the trees, passing
through a couple of avalanche chutes.
These openings provided spectacular views of Pinto Lake and the Cline
River valley far below.
A
final stretch of forested trail intruded.
This section was rather overgrown and tedious. Then we reached the base of the final steep
ascent to the pass. This stretch was
buried under a steep snowfield. Dave
started to attempt to climb straight up it, but I didn’t think we’d be able to
get enough traction to take that approach.
I traversed across the snowfield at an angle, and reached the base of a
rocky cliff. I scrambled up the cliff,
which was a bit awkward with a big pack on.
This was a little precarious, but there were plenty of hand and foot
holds. Meanwhile, Dave traversed back
across the snowfield until he could ascend around the cliff. This enabled him to avoid the steepest snow
and the rock scrambling.
We
reached the top and paused to catch our breath.
The view from here was even better than from the avalanche slope
below. Pinto Lake was a lovely spot to
camp, but it is even more scenic when viewed from above.
From
there we strolled through grassy meadows before stopping for a break. After a couple of minutes I got restless, and
spent some time exploring the cliff edges searching for even more views. It’s an incredibly scenic area, with views of
Pinto Lake, the Cline River valley, and the surrounding peaks. Sunset Pass is a nice dayhike from the Icefields Parkway, but it is essential to extend the hike
beyond the pass to these cliffs.
After
our break we resumed the hike, continuing on to the actual pass. Sunset Pass is actually forested, but it is
significant because it meant returning to Banff National Park after 6+ days in
Jasper National Park and the White Goat Wilderness.
From
the pass, a steady descent brought us to a vast willow meadow with fantastic views
in all directions. We eventually reached
a small stream. There wasn’t much to it,
but there were no rocks to hop across.
Dave stopped to change shoes, but I had other ideas. The bank on our side of the creek was several
feet higher than the opposite side. I
thought about it for a few seconds, before making a running leap. I stuck the landing despite having a heavy
pack on my back.
We
regrouped at the Norman Lake Campground.
The campground isn’t particularly close to the lake. In fact, I never actually saw it. Before Dave caught up, I actually ran into
other people. They were 3 young German
guys on a dayhike. It was the first other
people I’d seen in more than 72 hours!
THE WRONG ENDING
From
there we descended to Norman Creek, where we made one final stop to get
water. We only had a couple of miles to
go, but it was a hot day and we were both out of water. The water stop nearly ended in disaster. I hung the water bag from a tree, to let the
gravity filter work its magic. I
returned a few minutes later, to find a swarm of bees covering my platypus
water bag. Yikes! I couldn’t leave the bag there, but didn’t
see a way to retrieve it, either.
I
retreated and considered my options.
Then I came up with an idea. I
circled around behind the tree, and snagged a loop on the bag with my trekking
pole. I pulled it free of the tree and
took off running down the hill, dragging the platypus, filter, and empty dirty
water bag behind me. Believe it or not,
this actually worked. The bees scattered,
but didn’t chase me. I circled back to
where Dave was waiting and packed up for the final 2 miles of the hike.
Some
easy hiking brought us to the final steep descent to the road. The highway was directly below us, but
switchbacks moderated the grade. We were
making good time, chatting about where we would go for dinner that night, when
disaster struck. My foot skidded on some
pebbles, and I nearly lost my footing.
Just as I turned to warn Dave, his feet went out from under him. He landed badly – with one leg pinned back
underneath him.
He
was in a tremendous amount of pain, and couldn’t move his leg at all. We weren’t far from the road, but there was
no way he could get there. We
discussed our options, and decided to activate Dave’s PLB (personal locator
beacon). We didn’t know how reliable
that would be, so I hiked out to get help.
Before I left I tried to make him comfortable, but this was difficult
because of the steep slope. I left some
water with him, and pulled out a jacket.
Thunder was rumbling in the distance, and the last thing he needed was a
storm to roll in. He also took some
painkillers before I departed.
I
took my pack and hiked out to the rental car.
I was moving fast, and it only took 14 minutes. Then I drove down the Icefields
Parkway to Saskatchawan River Crossing, where there
is a store and hotel. I eventually found
a pay phone and called 911. By the time
I got through, they were already responding to the signal from the PLB. A helicopter was on its way. I was able to provide them with some
information on the accident, the injury, and Dave’s exact location. They asked me if they would be able to land a
helicopter near him. I told them that
wouldn’t be possible, due to the steep terrain and trees. The closest landing spot would be the
trailhead parking area. They asked me to
return to him, and gave me instructions for signaling the helicopter.
I
bought some snacks and drinks from the store and drove back to the
trailhead. I spread out my green tarp in
the parking area as a signal to the helicopter before hiking back up to where
Dave had fallen. I arrived only a few
minutes before we heard the helicopter.
It eventually swooped in, and I was able to signal it through an opening
in the trees. It sounded its horn in
acknowledgement, but moved away. We
figured that they were planning to land in the parking area and come up with a
stretcher. I decided to hike down to meet them.
Since I was heading that way, Dave asked me to drive up to where his car
was parked to retrieve his cell phone and passport.
There
was no sign of the helicopter when I reached the parking lot, but there was an
ambulance. I filled the first responders
in on the details before driving up to Dave’s car. By the time I returned with his phone and
passport, the helicopter had landed next to the road, and they had Dave. Apparently they had lowered two guys from the
helicopter while it hovered above him.
They strapped him in to a sling and hoisted him up to the
helicopter. Somehow they managed to do
all of this in the 45 minutes I spent driving.
They
airlifted him to the hospital in Banff.
I drove back to the store and called Christy to let her know what had
happened. Then I made the long drive
back to Lake Louise, where we had a campsite reserved. I set up camp, took a shower, and then drove
to Banff. Banff doesn’t really have fast
food, so I ended up eating dinner at Maggie and Stumps, an upscale Mexican
restaurant, at 11pm. It was surprisingly
good, though I suppose anything would’ve satisfied me at that point.
Then
I headed over to the hospital to check on Dave.
He was awake and in reasonably good spirits, despite the bad news about
the injury. He had broken both the Tibia
and Fibula. Surgery was scheduled for
the next morning. I wished him well and
promised to check in on him the next day.
I also told him that Christy and I would retrieve his car from the Nigel
Pass Trailhead and bring it back to the hospital in Banff. He didn’t know if he’d be able to drive, but
at least the car would be located in a more convenient place.
It
was after midnight, but I had nothing for breakfast the next morning. I stopped at the Safeway in Banff, hoping
they were still open. The parking lot
was empty, but the lights were on and the doors were open. They didn’t have hours posted, so I figured
they were open 24 hours. I grabbed some
eggs, and was looking at the bacon when a man walked up to me. He looked like and talked like a mixture of
Borat and “Balki” from the 80’s sitcom “Perfect
Strangers”. He said something to me that
was completely unintelligible. I shook
my head and asked him to repeat himself.
The second try wasn’t any better.
On the third attempt I realized that he was asking what I was doing
there.
“Getting
breakfast”, I replied.
He
then explained, in rapidly improving English, that the store was closed. Ah.
That did kind of explain the empty parking lot and lack of other
customers and employees. I started to
ask if I could still buy the eggs and bacon, but decided against it. It was a strangely appropriate ending to an
exhausting, surreal day.
I
returned to the campground and crawled into the tent at 1:30am.
TRUCKIN’
I
slept until 7:30 Thursday morning. At
that point, there was too much noise from birds and other campers to sleep any
longer. I got up, drove into Lake Louise
village, and found a small store. I
bought eggs and a potato and returned to camp.
I fried up breakfast and made coffee.
I then did some laundry using my collapsible plastic bucket. By the time those chores were complete, it was time to head back to Calgary to pick up
Christy at the airport.
I
stopped at the Safeway in Canmore, which is much
nicer than the one in Banff. I spent an
astonishing amount of money on groceries before continuing on to Calgary. Christy sailed through customs, so I was
actually a little late picking her up.
It was wonderful seeing her after spending almost two weeks without her.
We
drove back to Canmore and stopped at Yamnuska (http://yamnuska.com/) to check in for our
upcoming class. We would be spending
Saturday, Sunday, and Monday in the Icefields area of
Jasper National Park with guides from Yamnuksa
learning how to use an ice axe, wear crampons, and walk on glaciers. On the third day we would do a guided climb
of one of the peaks in the area.
While
we were there we tried on our rental mountaineering boots. We eventually got that figured out, and went
back over the recommended gear list.
That’s when Christy realized that she’d forgotten a warm hat and
gloves. We stopped at a couple of stores
downtown. Options were slim since it was
the last day of July, but we eventually found her a hat and gloves. I also bought gloves, since the ones I had
were marginal at best.
We
stopped at Safeway again to get the things I’d forgotten earlier. This was my third visit to a grocery store
that day! Well, actually the fourth, if
you count the closed Safeway in Banff at 1am.
By the time we left we had $350 worth of groceries in a fairly small
trunk that had already been half full to begin with. Sigh.
From
Canmore we drove all the way up to the Nigel Pass
Trailhead at the northern end of Banff National Park. I drove Dave’s car back to the Banff
hospital, while Christy followed me in the rental car. Christy liked driving the Audi! It was another long drive back, but at least
there was one cassette tape in Dave’s car.
It actually had two Grateful Dead albums, “Workingman’s Dead” and “American Beauty”.
I managed to listen to “Truckin’” three times
on that drive, which kind of summed up the last 24 hours of my life.
I
was exhausted when we reached the hospital in Banff. We visited Dave, and found out that the
surgery had gone well. Unfortunately,
his 7-week trip was over after less than 2 weeks. He was mainly focused on the logistics of
getting home. He couldn’t drive because
of the cast. He had a reservation for
the hostel in Banff, where he would spend a night or two. Meanwhile, his brother was working on booking
a flight for him back to Cleveland. That
meant that he would have to fly back out in a couple of months to pick up his
car and drive it home.
We
visited for a bit, but we were famished.
It was 11:30, and we ended up going back to the same restaurant I had
eaten at the previous night. I knew they
had a pretty decent late night menu with gluten-free options, and we were too
tired to find another restaurant. It was
11:30 when we walked in, and the place was hopping with young kids out
partying. That wasn’t quite the
atmosphere we wanted, but it didn’t matter.
We just needed to eat so we could go back to the campground and
crash. We had a big weekend coming up.
The
drive back to Lake Louise was a struggle, but we made it. We went to bed at 1am, which was a little
earlier than I’d managed the previous evening.
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