You’ll find Crypt Lake on page 113 of Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies, the Opinionated Hiking Guide. It’s Trip 22. You’ll also find it on the agenda of every visitor to Waterton Lakes National Park who has any interest in hiking. It’s by far the most popular trip in the park, and among the best known hikes in Canada. We re-hiked it recently. Perhaps our observations and commentary will help you decide if it should be on your agenda next summer.

Crypt Lake itself is very impressive, as is the valley through which you’ll reach it. The second half of the trail is particularly enjoyable, granting constant views of steep mountainsides and a great cascade. What distinguishes Crypt, however, is the final 20 to 30 minutes of the approach: a narrow ledge, a dark tunnel, and an even narrower ledge where you can cling to a cable for assurance and safety. That, plus the compulsory boat trip across Waterton Lake to and from the trailhead, is the basis for Crypt Lake’s popularity.

Crypt is especially popular with families. We’ve seen more families hiking to Crypt Lake than we’ve seen on any trail, anywhere. And we’ve been impressed with how brave and adept children are on the airy, final approach. Kids seem not to fear it. They relish it. The world needs more hikers, and Crypt Lake is a recruitment campaign unto itself. We applaud.

Bear in mind, during the first hour along the trail to Crypt Lake you will see nothing of note. At a swift pace, the scenery does not open up for precisely one hour and ten minutes. For many hikers, that means one hour and thirty minutes. Add it up. That’s three hours total. This is not unusual in the Canadian Rockies, or most other mountain ranges. Actually, for a hike to be scenically engaging within one hour and thirty minutes of departing the trailhead is significantly better than average. But if you’re not accustomed to hiking, and/or you’ve brought kids who have the approximate attention span of a gnat, three hours can be excruciatingly long.

Crypt Lake’s fame all but guarantees you will be hiking among a crowd. If you cannot tolerate smiling at and chatting with your fellow hikers, and either passing them along the trail or constantly being passed by them, forget it. Crypt is a social experience, not a wilderness experience.

Likewise, nowhere at the lake itself is it possible to escape the incessant chatter of your fellow hikers. A trail rounds the lake. Most hikers decline to circumambulate the water, opting instead to plop at the beach where the trail arrives. But even if you continue to the far shore, you’ll see and hear them. And a few of them will pass you and perhaps even opt to sit astonishingly close to you, regardless where along the lakeside trail you sit, and regardless how blatantly you glare at them.

So, yes, there are drawbacks to Crypt Lake. It’s by no means the Canadian Rockies’ premier hike. But it is an outstanding hike.

You want to see what all the clamor’s about? We certainly did when we first visited Waterton. You want to introduce your family to hiking? The Crypt Lake trail is rife with rare diversions that kids find irresistibly compelling. You want to hike where other people, lots of other people, will help calm your fear of bears? Crypt Lake is for you.

Our description has quelled your interest in Crypt Lake? Waterton Lakes National Park offers many, excellent alternatives. You’ll find them all in Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies, the Opinionated Hiking Guide.

Trip 1, on page 42 of Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies, the Opinionated Hiking Guide, is Akamina Ridge / Wall and Forum Lakes. It’s a supreme ridgewalk in little-known Akamina-Kishinena Provincial Park. Views from the alpine ridgecrest extend across the adjacent national parks: Waterton Lakes (Alberta, Canada), and Glacier (Montana, USA). We re-hiked Akamina recently and were as moved by the scenery as we were the first time. Of course, we carefully re-checked the On Foot description in our book. We noted only one change: There’s now a signed trail ascending from Forum Lake to the saddle between Forum and Wall lakes. You’ll see the sign to your right as you approach Forum Lake. Beyond the saddle, the description in our book remains accurate. If you’re visiting Waterton Lakes National Park this fall, and you’re a strong hiker willing to grapple with one pitch of scrambling, we urge you to give Akamina Ridge a go. It’s spectacular.

This past week in the Canadian Rockies, enough snow has fallen at high elevations and the daytime temperatures have remained cool enough that scrambling season has clearly ended. Sure, any summit is accessible any time of year, if you’re a black-belt mountaineer. But a patina of snow and/or ice makes a long, steep, rough scramble significantly more challenging and possibly dangerous for most of us. So between now and ski season, it’s wise to hike rather than scramble.

Our final scramble of the season was Mt. Temple. We did it on the last, truly summer day of what has been little better than a mild winter these past four months here in Canmore and Banff.

Looming above Lake Louise, 3543-m (11,624-ft) Mt. Temple wears a helmet of ice. From the lake, the peak appears insurmountably vertical. But from the other side, starting at Moraine Lake (1884 m / 6181 ft), a pedestrian glideway of a hiking trail leads to 2373-m (7785-ft) Sentinel Pass. From there, it’s only a moderate scramble to the summit of Mt. Temple. Total elevation gain: 1659 m (5442 ft). We completed the round trip in nine hours.

As you can see, the summit panorama is glorious. And the ascent, though taxing, is enjoyable. If you’re an outdoor athlete with a head for heights and enough scrambling experience to be comfortable on steep talus and scree, you should find Mt. Temple a reasonable goal. The ideal time to do it is late summer, once the route is snow free. Wait for three days of perfect weather. Plan your trip for the middle day. Bring a helmet and, just in case, an ice axe. Pack enough clothing layers that you can enjoy sitting on the summit for an hour even if the wind is screaming. And try to get an alpine start, so you won’t be racing down the mountain at sunset. You’ll want plenty of time to choose the optimal route—particularly on the descent.

Our thanks to Ken, Tracy, John and Ian — our companions on Mt. Temple — for ensuring we didn’t sleep in that morning, as is our slothful tendency.

You’re a hiker with a little scrambling experience seeking to bag an easy summit in Banff National Park? Point your boots at Helen Lake, then continue on the non-technical ridge route to 2993-m Cirque Peak. Conditions are now perfect. The culminating panorama includes a spectacular view southwest to Bow Glacier Falls, the lake beneath Bow Glacier, and the Wapta Icefield between 3055-m Mt. Rhondda and 3172-m Mt. Baker. For details, see Trip 8, page 67, in Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies.

We recently hiked up Mosquito Creek, over North Molar Pass, down to Fish Lakes, then up to Pipestone Pass (Trip 80, page 278, in Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies). It’s a superb backpack trip, and now’s prime time to do it. Something we didn’t mention in the book is an alternate return route, which turns the traditional, one-way, out-and-back trip into a circuit, greatly boosts your scenic reward, and adds a pinch of adventure. To do it, bring the “Hector Lake” 1:50 000 topo map 82 N/9. On the map, look at the hourglass-shaped ridge between Molar Pass and North Molar Pass. See the “waist” of the hourglass? It provides a steep but non-technical passage between the basin south of North Molar Pass and the upper east side of Molar Pass. And when you crest that ridge — wow — the view south-southwest (across the meadowy expanse of Molar Pass, to Hector Glacier on Mount Hector) is stupendous. After descending off the ridge, continue cross-country (west-southwest) to intersect the trail piercing Molar Pass. Then turn right and follow the trail generally northwest into the Mosquito Creek Valley, where you’ll be on familiar ground. Want to see more photos of this gorgeous area? Go to the Photos page of our website, click on “Canadian Rockies” (http://www.hikingcamping.com/photos-rockies.php), and view images 58 through 93.

Our tireless, adventurous friend, Ian, recently accompanied us on a 12-hour-marathon, bike-hike trip to Piper Pass via the Little Elbow and West Fork Little Elbow river valleys. Approaching the pass, I asked him, “How many people do you think get here each summer?” He paused, glanced at the feint route underfoot, gazed at the gorgeous valley we’d just traversed, and said, “Not many. Maybe three parties each summer, at most.” Kathy and I agreed with his assessment, which prompted another question: Why so few?

Sure, reaching Piper Pass this way is an arduously long daytrip requiring athletic endurance. But Calgary and Canmore are heavily populated with outdoor athletes, many of whom are skilled, enthusiastic mountainbikers. And judging by the number of cars parked on weekends at many K-Country trailheads, hiking is as popular as ever. So why aren’t the strongest and keenest probing the wilder niches of their backyard wilderness?

We have no idea. But we do know this: A decade ago, more people were surmounting Piper Pass this way, because back then the final approach (southward, through the upper reaches of the West Fork Little Elbow River Valley) was much more apparent than it is now.

Thanks to equestrians, the former road extending 4.7 km (2.9 mi) past Romulus campground is obvious to its end. On the ensuing trail, you’ll face no navigational difficulty until you’re beyond the big meadow and have begun ascending the last swath of forest. Here, however, the way forward withers as the the grade steepens. The narrow-but-distinct trail gradually dwindles to a route, then sporadically vanishes. Unless you’ve been here before and know how to proceed, or your navigational instincts are honed by experience, the various game paths are as helpful as they are confusing.

You have the heart of an explorer and the stamina of a triathlete? You’re aware the word “epic” is vastly overused, and you understand its true meaning? We need you out there. Maintaining a route like this requires the passage of many boots. You’ll be richly rewarded. You’ll see a wild, spectacular valley surrounded by rugged, handsome peaks. You’ll earn a gratifying sense of accomplishment. And you’ll no doubt enjoy it all in solitude.

But when tranquility becomes a near-permanent state, that means the trails are not receiving the boot-beating they need to remain in existence. Better to say “hello” a couple times along the way then have to wonder “where the heck did the route go?”

You’ll find complete directions to Piper Pass via the Little Elbow in Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies, Trip 39. Here are a few updates you’ll find helpful:

• At the first ford, look left. You’ll find a trail traverses the steep forest allowing you to bypass the first and second fords. This bypass takes only a couple minutes.

• At the minor fork described in the 3rd paragraph on page 203, do not stay left on the bench. Instead, bear right, descend toward the river, then turn left (upstream). Hike through the rough, washed-out gully to regain the trail just ahead.

• After crossing the big meadow in the West Fork Little Elbow River Valley (where Piper Pass is visible ahead), note when you re-enter forest at the meadow’s south end. About seven minutes farther, you’ll encounter a fork. Proceed left (south-southeast). Right (southwest) soon ends in a rocky wash-out among the trees.

• Where the grade finally steepens and the route all but disappears, don’t worry. Go up. Do not continue traversing south. Game paths will assist you if you’re unable to keep to “the” route. By ascending, you’ll promptly dispatch the forest and attain the edge of a steep-walled ravine. From there, continue ascending along the ravine, quickly passing the last of the trees. You’ll soon be in the alpine zone, with Piper Pass in view just ahead.

Final suggestions: (1) Bring friends. The more boots pounding the route to Piper Pass, the better, and the more of us appreciating wild places, the more us who’ll protect them. (2) If you can bear the extra weight, carry a pair of clippers. By snipping a few tree branches here and there, you’ll help ensure this exciting wilderness route remains hikeable.

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The Opinionated Hikers on Patrol for You

New Zealand has marketed itself to hikers more successfully than any country in the world. True, NZ is blessed with gorgeous scenery and has an enviable number of tracks (trails), but those aren’t the only reasons it ranks high on many hikers’ life lists. Kiwis are smart. Their nation’s natural beauty is an infinitely renewable resource, so they sell it—hard. In doing so, they sometimes exaggerate.

Case in point: the Tongariro Crossing. Kiwis convincingly tout it as “the world’s greatest day-trek.”

They’re entitled to their opinion. And, granted, it’s a subjective matter. But having hiked the Tongariro Crossing three times during the past 20 years, and meanwhile having also sampled a lot of the most spectacular hiking terrain elsewhere in the world (Patagonia, French Alps, Sierra Nevada, Alaska, etc.), Kathy and I can say with assurance there are many day treks more deserving of “the world’s best” label. We hiked one of them just last week: the Lake O’Hara Alpine Circuit, in Yoho National Park, in the Canadian Rockies.

Is the Alpine Circuit the best dayhike in the world? Perhaps. It certainly ranks among the supreme ten.

Compare the photos above. The top six are from the Lake O’Hara Alpine Circuit. The bottom three are from the Tongariro Crossing. Where would you rather hike? We believe most hikers will agree the Alpine Circuit offers a scenically superior experience. So why doesn’t Canada market the Canadian Rockies with anything approaching the cunning and savvy with which Kiwis market New Zealand?

We hope the Lake O’Hara Alpine Circuit is on your radar. Before you go, read Trip 14, page 89, in Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies, the Opinionated Hiking Guide. Meanwhile, here’s our advice…

If you’re reasonably fit, begin the day by ascending to Wiwaxy Gap. Next, follow the Huber Ledges to Lake Oesa. From there, descend back to Lake O’Hara. Allowing plenty of time to gaze and take photos, this abbreviated loop will take you about three or four hours.

You’re fit and keen? Continue from Lake Oesa, onto the Yukness Ledges, then down to Hungabee Lake. From there, descend the East Opabin trail to the south shore of Lake O’Hara. Total hiking time: five to six hours.

You’re very fit and super keen? Proceed west along the north shore of Hungabee Lake. Work your way onto the All Souls’ Traverse, beneath Schaffer Ridge. Ascend to All Souls’ Prospect for a new panorama of the entire region. Then descend the Big Larches trail to Lake O’Hara, arriving there about seven or eight hours after you began hiking.

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Bear stories are boring. Actually most animal stories are boring. Everyone tells them. Yet the magic we feel during a close encounter with wildlife is difficult, often impossible, to convey. And most people simply aren’t skilled at story telling. All of us have politely listened to others’ animal stories, feigning interest throughout the tedious litany of unnecessary detail, so it’s best to keep that in mind when we’re tempted to regale our friends about our latest wild-kingdom experience. Regardless how cute that chipmunk was, how crazily that moose behaved, or how much that bear terrified us, we’ll only bore our friends if we burden them with the whole story.

So we’ll be brief here.

On our recent backpack trip up Johnston Creek Valley to Luellen Lake, Pulsatilla Pass, and Badger Pass (Trip 101, page 370, Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies), we encountered a sow grizzly with her cub. We’d been making bear-warning calls (http://www.hikingcamping.com/bear-safety.php), so the bear was not surprised. She heard us approaching and was moving in our direction, clearly coming to check us out, when we spotted one another about 40 metres apart. She continued slowly but confidently striding forward. We scanned the area, assessed the situation, spoke briefly to one another, unholstered our pepper spray, then retreated—all the way back to the trailhead. End of story.

Our point is this: Let the bear be the boss. Bears live in the backcountry. It’s their home. We humans are uninvited guests. Bears generally display remarkable tolerance of human beings. But if we test their patience, it might end tragically—for them as well as us.

Deferring to a bear, in a situation like ours, can be counter-intuitive. “What? Back down? Turn around? Me? Now? No way!” Letting the mere presence of an animal quash our efforts and alter our plans is in direct opposition to what society has taught us about humans being masters of the planet.

We’d started hiking in Johnston Canyon, camped the first night at Luellen Lake, and were in the upper reaches of Johnston Creek Valley, a mere 1 km shy of Badger Junction campground. We intended to camp there, then dayhike to both passes. The weather was magnificent. We’d been unable to shoot good photos of either pass during our previous visits due to rain and low, heavy clouds. Finally, our timing was perfect. So, we admit, we considered maneuvering around the bear and continuing.

But it was apparent this bear and her cub had taken up temporary residence in the area and were disinclined to leave, which made us disinclined to stay. It was a painful decision. Prepping for a backpack trip takes hours. We’d hiked—carrying hefty packs—nearly a day-and-a-half prior to mama bear’s stern greeting. Turning back at that point meant another day-long slog, and a virtually empty camera card. Save for Luellen Lake, the hike had been a scenic zero—a long march through disenchanted forest on a muddy, horse-tromped trail. Finally, our reward was just ahead. We’d soon be surging into the alpine zone. The bear didn’t overtly threaten us, but she tore our trip into tatters.

During the long, rather depressing, down-valley hike, we replayed the situation in our minds, discussed alternatives, pondered our decision, and agreed we’d chosen the wise course of action. We thought we should tell you about it because you could someday find yourself in similar circumstances. Having a frame of reference might help you make a quick, smart decision under pressure.

Remember to make lots of noise on the trail; it’s your best defense. (Download our Bears Beware MP3. Listening to it while driving to the trailhead could save your life.) If you do encounter a bear, remember to let him or her be the boss. And later, though it might seem like a fascinating tale, remember to spare your friends the details.

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Last Sunday morning, we hiked up French Creek canyon and encountered enough deadfall to discourage a gazelle. So we retreated, opting instead to spend the afternoon hiking King Creek Ridge, where we knew we would fully appreciate what remained of that gorgeous day. We left the King Creek trailhead parking lot at 4 pm. We had the entire ridge to ourselves. The magical, evening light kept us shooting photos for an hour atop the crest. The entire hike, including the strenuous ascent and descent of the ridge, was exhilarating. After working our way through the narrow, steep-walled gorge cut by King Creek, crossing and recrossing the lively creek, we arrived back at the trailhead at 9 pm, completely fulfilled. If you’re fit and have a little scrambling and routefinding experience, we urge you to go soon, while the crest of King Creek Ridge and the skirts of the nearby Opal Range are still luxuriously green. For details, read Trip 19, starting on page 108, in Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies, the Premier Trails in Kananakis Country, near Canmore and Calgary.

This past week we started at the Vista Lake viewpoint trailhead (Highway 93, Banff National Park) and completed a 21.8-km (13.5-mi) round-trip dayhike to Gibbon Pass, en route passing Vista, Arnica, Upper Twin, and Lower Twin lakes. Trail conditions are perfect. No snow, even at the pass. The entire day we encountered only one other party: three people who were camped at Upper Twin Lake. Theirs was the only tent in the campground. If you’re wondering where to dayhike now in the Canadian Rockies, this is an excellent choice. We urge you to start early and continue to Gibbon Pass, where the view extends far south—beyond the basins clasping Shadow, Mummy, Scarab, Egypt, and Natalko lakes—all the way to the Matterhorn of the Rockies: Mount Assiniboine. For a complete description of the Twin Lakes / Gibbon Pass dayhike, read Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies, the Opinionated Hiking Guide. It’s Trip 41 (page 169).