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.

Click on “comments” (below) to see what others are saying, then join the discussion.

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.

Click on “comments” (below) to see what others are saying, then join the discussion.

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.

Click on “comments” (below) to see what others are saying, then join the discussion.

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).

Last weekend, we hiked over Healy Pass to the Egypt Lake campground. The vast, glacier-lilly carpet on the southeast side of Healy Pass was spectacular. We encountered no snow, and the trail is in excellent condition. Extensive, recent maintenance is evident, particularly between Healy Pass and Egypt Lake. Thank you, Parks Canada. The next day, we toured Egypt, Scarab and Mummy lakes. Though the area derives its name from Egypt Lake, it’s the upper lakes — Scarab and Mummy— and the nearby passes — Healy and Whistling — that make this a premier backpacking destination. The footlogs that previously spanned the Scarab Lake outlet stream have been pushed aside by a torrent and are now useless, but hikers have improvised a tree-limb footbridge immediately downstream. It worked for us. We encountered snow on the ascent from Scarab to Mummy, but it posed no problem. (Scenery Alert: When rounding the east shore of Scarab Lake outlet stream, detour left / east to quickly attain an exciting, aerial view of Egypt Lake below. And immediately after crossing the Scarab Lake outlet stream, look left. You’ll see the stream is very short. Follow it downstream, and in one minute you’ll be standing on a precipice, peering directly down the cascade that plummets over the headwall into Egypt Lake.) Thick snowdrifts remain on the east shore of Mummy, but the lake is ice-free. It’s a gorgeous sight. From there, you can look north-northwest through Whistling Pass, whose south slope is now snow-free. We crossed a snowfield while ascending from Mummy Lake to Sphinx Pass, but the soft snow allowed easy kick-stepping. Sphinx Pass is snow-free. Descending southeast from the pass we were again on snow until reaching treeline. Below treeline, the snow is gone. The easiest descent route is directly down the groove beneath the pass, then beside the meltwater stream draining into Natalko Lake. At the lake’s outlet stream, we found the sign indicating the trail descending into Red Earth Pass. The trail initially descends beside the stream, then curves left (north) toward Egypt Lake. The trail (a former road that served the long-ago-abandoned talc mine near the lake) is in good condition, easy to follow. You’re thinking about backpacking to the Egypt Lake campground? Now’s the perfect time to go. But remember, the short detour from the campground to the namesake lake is just the beginning of a superb, half-day foray. Continue up to Scarab and Mummy Lakes, scramble above to Sphinx Pass, descend to Natalko Lake, then cruise back to Egypt Lake campground. The scramble to Sphinx Pass is short: easy bouldering, no exposure. Natalko Lake is surprisingly beautiful—not quite so impressive as Scarab and Mummy lakes but a much more rewarding sight than Egypt Lake. For full details, read Trip 85 (starting on page 298) in Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies, the Opinionated Hiking Guide.

The following note is from Sara Muth of Seattle, in response to the questions Rick Vigrass of Calgary recently posed regarding trail maintenance in the Canadian Rocky Mountain national parks. We think Sara’s suggestion is an excellent one because, having hiked extensively in the North Cascades of Washington to complete our guidebook on that range, we’re familiar with the invaluable contribution of the Washington Trails Association. Here’s what Sara has to say:

Hi, I ran across your blog while doing some planning for a vacation in the Canadian Rockies this summer. I couldn’t help responding to your entry on volunteer trail maintenance. We are avid hikers in the Seattle area and belong to an organization called the Washington Trails Association. It organizes all kinds of volunteer support, maintenance, and advocacy for trails—you can do anything from give a few dollars, to go on a week-long trail maintenance “vacation.” It’s incredibly successful and wierdly popular. Check it out at http://www.wta.org. It might be a model for something in your neck of the woods.

Cheers, Sara

Occasionally we receive a note from one of our readers that we want to pass along to everyone following our blog. This one is from Rick Vigrass, of Calgary. We think his concerns are valid, his questions are important, and his suggestions deserve consideration:

Craig & Kathy,

Did some thinking as I slogged up and over the snow yesterday and wondered if you’d consider posting this on your blog:

Over the past 3 summers, I have hiked 6 of the Premier Dayhikes described in the Copeland’s book: Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies. I haven’t been disappointed with any of them. Yesterday was no exception as I visited Niles Meadow and had an exceptional view of the Daly Glacier. It was a great day. The condition of the trail takes nothing away from the experience which, consistent with all the dayhikes designated by the Copelands as premier, is outstanding. But the fallen trees across the trail gave me pause to reflect on how much we value our trails and how we are looking after them.

Without knowing the details of the Park’s trail maintenance budget and philosophy, the reality is this trail hasn’t been cleared for years. Several of the fallen trees were old. Some are waist high and hikers have been forced to go off trail. I cleared the small ones I could lift by hand but there are still many left. If I would have known and packed my Swede saw and had extra energy, I could have cut out several of the smaller fallen trees.

So what do us serious hikers from Calgary, Canmore and other places do? Do we spend our energy lobbying Parks Canada? Do we adopt-a-trail ourselves and put something back into something we get so much from? I for one would adopt-a-trail and participate in any training required by Parks Canada. Perhaps someone could encourage that by listing trails and adopters on a website so there is some organization and token recognition. Maybe Parks Canada could hold an annual winter supper for the adopters and give each one of them a copy of the Copeland’s latest book or some other suitable token of appreciation. After a few years, maybe the adopter’s name could be posted at the trailhead. What are your ideas and comments on this? How much do we value our trails and what are we willing to do to have them? I would be interested in your response.

Regards,

Rick Vigrass