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. And in doing so, they sometimes exaggerate.

Case in point: the Tongariro Crossing. Kiwis breathlessly 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 world’s top ten.

Compare the six Lake O’Hara Alpine Circuit photos above with the three Tongariro Crossing photos below. 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.

We just returned from a week-long backcountry research trip in the West Kootenay region of British Columbia, where we were checking access roads, hiking trails, and campgrounds.

As for campgrounds, B.C. is rife with very inviting options—from Vancouver Island to the Coast Mountains, throughout the Okanagan, across the Chilcotin Plateau, and along the west side of the Rockies.

We visited numerous West Kootenay campgrounds and stayed at several.

Provincial Parks are beautiful, but we think they’re expensive. For example, you’ll pay $18 per site/per night at Davis Creek, and $28 per site/per night at Kokanee Creek. Both these provincial-park campgrounds are on Kootenay Lake. They’re beautiful and well maintained. But $28 a night? Ouch.

Our book, Camp Free in B.C. (http://www.hikingcamping.com/camp-free-bc.php), gives directions to 350 free-of-charge campgrounds throughout B.C. It also describes 80 campgrounds where you’ll pay only $10 to $12 per site/per night. We think this is a reasonable price for these more popular campgrounds because they require significant upkeep.

On our drive through the Rocky Mountain Trench (Radium south to Cranbrook), we were happy to find a free-of-charge site at Johnston Lake campground on the Friday of Canada Day weekend. We had the beach all to ourselves.

On Saturday—the busiest camping day of the year in Canada—we found a free-of-charge site at Little Slocan Lake campground.

On Sunday, we found a site at Wragge Beach, on Slocan Lake. It cost $12, but it’s worth it. While there, we met the camp caretaker: Kim Roshinsky. He’s a long-time West Kootenay resident and an avid traveler. His enthusiasm for camping, hiking and fishing is infectious. His curiosity and sense of humour are refreshing. And he does a superb job of making people feel welcome and comfortable yet ensuring they respect the campground and their fellow campers.

We hope you’ll go camping in B.C. this summer. Not just once, but several times. Free campgrounds are numerous. And camping can be deeply revitalizing. You’ll return home soothed by the serenity of nature.

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

The Opinionated Hikers on Patrol for You

Mist Ridge, south of Highwood Pass, is ready for you. Watch the Life section of the Calgary Herald, Thursday, July 1, for our field report. Or read Trip 35, page 188, in Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies, the Premier Trails in Kananaskis Country, near Canmore and Calgary. You’ll encounter a few snow patches on the ascent to the ridgecrest. Atop the ridge, the snow is melting quickly and poses no obstacle. To complete a circuit, however, by descending from Rickert’s Pass (north end of Mist Ridge) into Mist Creek Valley, you will have to wade through snow drifts. There were four in our party, so it’s possible our post-hole tracks will remain evident and help guide you. Once you’re below, on the valley floor, you’ll leave the snow behind. But if you have any hesitation about your ability to routefind through deep snow, don’t pursue the circuit. Hike a round trip by staying on the ridgecrest: out and back. It’s a spectacular hike. Enjoy.

The Opinionated Hikers on Patrol for You

Old Goat Glacier is a prime hiking destination near Canmore. The trail into the basin below the glacier is now free of snow. The basin itself is an ideal destination for families with hikers-in-training. You’ll encounter snow on the ascent above the basin, but it’s melting quickly. Meanwhile, hiking on the snow is easier (especially when descending) than on the talus. At the upper reaches of the ascent, however, you will encounter deep snow, but only for a short distance. Just follow the post-hole tracks of the hikers who’ve preceded you. Once you’re atop the moraine, above the glacier, you’ll be hiking through minimal snow. For details, read Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies, The Premier Trails in Kananaskis Country near Canmore and Calgary, Trip 2, page 32. The Old Goat Glacier trailhead is behind the campground near the dam at the north end of Spray Lakes Reservoir.

The Opinionated Hikers on Patrol for You

For weeks, clouds have persisted in hanging about the Canadian Rockies like giant, sodden sponges. The rain—though we applaud its forest-fire prevention value—is getting tedious. Last weekend was the only break we’ve had during this long spate of grim weather. We dashed up to Three Sisters Pass, which overlooks Canmore, and… wow… we urge you to get up there soon. It’s a spectacular hike. And now is the perfect time to do it, as explained in the following, field-report supplement to the description in our book, Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies:

round trip
6 km (3.7 mi)

elevation gain
595 m (1952 ft)

key elevations
trailhead 1670 m (5478 ft), pass 2265 m (7429 ft)

hiking time
2 1/2 to 3 1/2 hours

difficulty
moderate

maps
Gem Trek Canmore and Kananaskis Village

OPINION
Any sunny weekend, spring through fall, it’s possible to arrive at the Goat Creek trailhead (launch pad for Ha Ling Peak, Trip 41) and find the parking lot so full there’s barely room to squeeze in a motorcycle. There might be 100 hikers on the peak, giving it an irksome, ant-farm atmosphere.

It was precisely such a day that we drove a few minutes farther down the road to the Three Sisters Pass trailhead and discovered… nobody. We hiked all afternoon in solitude.

Triple Sis Pass lacks Ha Ling’s popularity not because it’s scenically inferior or markedly more difficult, but simply because it’s not a peak. Ha Ling is to Canmore what the Grouse Grind is to Vancouver: de rigueur. The pass near the three siblings? Obscure.

That’s the first of this trip’s many shining attractions: You might have it all to yourself. You almost certainly will not feel oppressed by a crowd.

Shining attraction #2: The bootbeaten route climbs through a relatively narrow drainage that briefly constricts to a sharp-walled gorge then continues up a canyon. In early summer, a snowmelt stream careens down the canyon, then cascades through the gorge. You’ll hike beside this stream most of the way. The sight and sound of it are refreshing.

Shining attraction #3: The straight-shot ascent through the gorge and canyon is beautiful. It’s rough for only about ten minutes, when bypassing the gorge. Otherwise the grade is merely steep, and the rocky terrain is exciting. Above the gorge, you’re out of the trees most of the way, so you’ll see it all.

Shining attraction #4: The pass is an impressive vantage. The far (east) side is nearly vertical, so it grants an aerial perspective of Canmore, the Bow Valley, and the Fairholme Range beyond. The iconic Three Sisters peaks are nearby. Big Sister looms directly above the pass.

Just one caution: Don’t hike here in summer. The stream diminishes by then and can vanish in fall. It’s a waste to devote a full summer day to such a short hike. And all that rock creates a natural oven that, on a hot day, will bake your enchilada. So schedule Three Sisters Pass for late spring or early summer, when the stream is rollicking.

FACT

By Vehicle
From downtown Canmore, follow signs leading uphill to the Canmore Nordic Centre. Reset your trip odometer to 0 at the Nordic Centre turnoff. Continue ascending on Smith-Dorrien / Spray Trail (Hwy 742). Pavement soon ends. After crossing Whiteman’s Gap, proceed generally southeast to 11.8 km (7.3 mi).

From the junction of Hwy 40 and Kananaskis Lakes Trail (50 km / 31 mi south of Trans-Canada Hwy 1, or 17 km / 10.5 mi north of Highwood Pass), turn southwest onto Kananaskis Lakes Trail. Reset your trip odometer to 0. At 2.2 km (1.4 mi) turn right (northwest) onto unpaved Smith-Dorrien / Spray Trail (Hwy 742). Continue to 51.4 km (31.9 mi).

For either approach, park in the small pullout on the west side of the road, at 1670 m (5478 ft). It’s 1.5 km (0.9 mi) north of the toilets and telephone near the north end of Spray Lakes Reservoir.

On Foot
From the pullout, walk the road south about 90 m (98 yd). Turn left into the broad, dry, rocky drainage. Follow it northeast about 120 m (130 yd) to where a cairn (left / northwest) indicates a narrow path. It exits the drainage, rises onto the dryas-covered bank, and enters forest. Paralleling the drainage, the path leads generally northeast.

At 1773 m (5815 ft), about 15 minutes from the trailhead, begin ascending. Two minutes farther, drop 1.5 m (5 ft) to continue on the path. At 1828 m (5996 ft), about 30 minutes along, pass a slabby, tributary drainage (right / southeast).

The drainage soon narrows into a sharp, bedrock gorge. In early summer, a cascade fills the gorge, but by fall in might be dry. At the bottom of this gorge, rockhop across the stream, then bypass the gorge via the narrow, rough, bootbeaten route ascending steeply on the right (southeast) wall.

The bypass route climbs among tight trees. In about ten minutes, it drops left, onto bedrock at the top the gorge, at 1880 m (6166 ft). Proceed up-canyon by re-crossing to the left (north) side of the stream.

A cairned path—bootbeaten into talus, scree and dirt—makes the rest of the ascent straight forward. Ahead, the path briefly crosses to the right (south) side of the stream, then resumes on the left (north) side.

At 2135 m (7003 ft), about 1 1/4 hours from the trailhead, the path veers left (north) into forest and steepens. It exits the trees just shy of your destination.

Crest Three Sisters Pass at 3 km (1.9 mi), 2265 m (7429 ft).

Big Sister soars to 2936 m (9630 ft) from the right (southeast) edge of the pass. Middle Sister (Trip 1) is directly east. Little Sister is east-northeast. Canmore is north-northeast. Beyond the town, the Fairholme Range creates the Bow Valley’s far wall. Above you, north-northwest, is the Ehagay Nakoda Range—the massif comprising 2545-m (8348-ft) Mt. Lawrence Grassi, and Ha Ling Peak (Trip 41). Southwest is the Spray Valley, from which you ascended.

Returning from the pass, sure-footed hikers reach the top of the gorge in 30 minutes. Look left for the cairn indicated where the bypass route ascends into the trees on the southeast wall. It takes about ten minutes to descend the bypass route. Maintain a swift pace and you’ll intersect the road, near the trailhead, about one hour after departing the pass.

The Opinionated Hikers on Patrol for You

Though the Canadian Rockies have received significant snowfalls recently (late April and late May), and the high ridges and passes—even in the front range—remain white, several hiking trails in southern Kananaskis Country are now snow-free. Raspberry Ridge, for example, is topped with an active fire lookout from which you can marvel at a 50-km (32-mi) chunk of the Great Divide—a continuous wall of peaks comprising the backbone of the Rockies. We hiked there just a few days ago.

From Highwood Junction, where Highways 940 and 541 intersect, the Raspberry Ridge trailhead is just 11 km (6.8 mi) south on unpaved Highway 940. It’s a 9-km (5.6-mi) round-trip hike to the ridgecrest. The 653-m (2142-ft) ascent is comfortably gradual much of the way, then steepens sharply for the final approach. Still, it’s a relatively easy hike, ideal for your first mountain venture of the season as long as you’re reasonably fit. From Calgary, the Raspberry Ridge trailhead is a mere 1.5-hour drive.

For a full description of the Raspberry Ridge hike, as well as all the other premier trails in Kananaskis Country, purchase our guidebook Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies (http://www.hikingcamping.com/hike-locals-rockies.php). It includes several early-season hikes near Raspberry Ridge, such as Mt. Burke, Junction Hill, Grass Pass / Bull Creek Hills, Hailstone Butte, and Windy Peak Hills. The trail to the defunct fire lookout atop Mt. Burke will soon be snow-free if it’s not already.

Until June 15, Highway 40 is closed to vehicles between Highwood Junction in the south and King Creek (Smith-Dorrien Hwy 546). So, to access the early-season hikes listed above, you must drive Hwy 22 to Longview, then proceed northwest on 541 to Highwood Junction.

This annual highway closure, though annoying if you want quick access to early-season hikes in southern K-Country, presents an exciting opportunity if you’re a cyclist. That’s because Highway 40 is snow-free well before vehicle traffic resumes, which essentially makes it—if only for a few weeks—a paved cycle-path traversing a huge swath of spectacular, mountain wilderness.

The ascent to Highwood Pass (the climax between the two gates blocking vehicle traffic) is longer and more gradual from Highwood Junction. On this leg, the Highwood River is often nearby, and you’ll pass several picnic areas. The advantage of starting at King Creek is that after completing a shorter, more grueling ascent, you’re rewarded with a sustained, exhilarating descent. Bear in mind: We’ve encountered grizzlies while cycling on both sides of Highwood Pass, so bring a cannister of pepper spray and keep it within quick, easy reach on your bike.

To learn more about the Highway 40 cycling trip, purchase our guidebook Done in a Day Calgary—The Ten Premier Road Rides (http://www.hikingcamping.com/cycle-rockies.php). It will also point you to other, magnificently scenic stretches of pavement including those near Waterton, Red Deer, Drumheller, Canmore, and Banff.

Ideally, load your daypack and your bicycle into your car, along with your tent and sleeping bag. Then drive into southern K-Country for the weekend. Hike Raspberry Ridge on Saturday. That evening, pitch your tent nearby at Cataract Creek campground. On Sunday, drive back to Highwood Junction, get on your bike, then ride to and from Highwood Pass. Sitting down at your desk on Monday morning will then be a welcome experience. Plus you’ll have something genuinely interesting and impressive to tell your officemates when they pose the inevitable question, “How was your weekend?”

Cataract Creek Campground has more than 100 sites. Our favourites are the first six or so on loop A, where the creek is clearly audible. These sites also afford views beyond the lodgepole pines, across a nearby meadow, to the mountains beyond.

After several weeks at home in Canmore—working long days, getting minimal exercise, chafed by the reality that little hiking is available in the Canadian Rockies until June—we felt strange, unsettled. The nomadic life is strong in us. So after taking care of essential business and stacking the rest onto our laptops, we migrated south. Early spring is ideal hiking time in southern Utah.

Leaving the icy mountains behind, we headed to the land of sun-pounded slickrock domes and sandy-floored, sinuous canyons. We traded a palette of grey and straw, for red, orange and yellow. We pitched our tent under grand cottonwoods, sat out late beneath the starry, cobalt sky, woke up to temperatures that invite hiking in shorts.

We hope you can take time this year to visit Canyonlands, Capitol Reef, or Zion national parks, or the vast, high-desert regions surrounding Moab, Torrey, Boulder, or Escalante. Bring our book Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country. It will ensure you make the most out of each day. You live in western Canada? A 20-hour drive is all that stands between you and another planet: southern Utah. If your home is in the northwest U.S., you’re close enough that four or five days is all you need for a quick but fulfilling canyon-country adventure.

While driving through the outskirts of Calgary, we passed a housing development with a huge sign: FINAL PHASE! Our interpretation was, yes, this is indeed the historic, final phase for these absurdly huge, utterly unsustainable, hilariously boxy, anti-architecture mansions. Even a dim awareness of reality (peak oil, climate change, global economic decline) is sufficient to recognize that these trophy homes are monuments to excess and will soon be unwanted embarrassments. Besides, homes and mortgages of that magnitude have always been anchors that severely curtail one’s independence. They represent the final phase of whatever liberty their owners previously enjoyed.

Continuing our drive south of Calgary, we saw other housing developments spilling across the prairie. All the homes are boxes. All are “detached” but none is more than a couple meters from the nearly identical box next door. All are drab shades of the drabbest colours: taupe and grey. We could not live there. Such pervasive monotony would quash our creativity. The comforts those boxes provide would not compensate us for the soul-deadening affects of uniformity, repetition, and predictability.

We’d rather be in a downtown Calgary condo, where we’d have the Bow River and several big parks nearby, and where we could participate in stimulating city life.

Approaching Lethbridge, we could see the weather was worse on the southern horizon. We stopped for gas and discovered the approaching snow storm had already knocked out the city’s electricity. Without electricity, gas pumps are inoperable. Plus the Coutts border crossing was closed, as was the highway in northern Montana. “Don’t try it,” someone told us. “Cars in the ditch everywhere.”

It seemed the snow had defeated us. Our four-hour drive south was wasted. We turned back north. But nomad determination kicked in. “I bet we can outflank this storm,” Kath said. “We’ll drive west over Crowsnest Pass into B.C., then probe south.”

It was longer by four hours, but it worked. It was a more interesting drive, too. And it allowed us to keep moving. That’s the nomad philosophy: Keep moving.

Travelers often yearn for friends and family to ask stimulating, thoughtful questions. It rarely happens. When it does, it’s a gift. It helps travelers better understand their own motivations and articulate the deeper meaning of the experiences they’ve had en route.

The standard questions… What place did you enjoy most? Where was the best food?… are briefly tolerable but soon wearisome. When asking them, people don’t realize they’re short-changing themselves. More probing, challenging questions elicit more surprising, entertaining, revealing answers.

How do you know if it’s a “good” question? You’ll feel it’s daring of you to ask it. Or you’ll hesitate before answering, because the question demands reflection. Good questions are personal. Contemplation is necessary to think of good questions, as well as to answer them. A good question discloses something about the person asking it. Good questions are the ones you wish someone would ask you. The result of a good question is that both people know each other better and feel closer to one another.

A great friend of ours, with whom we’ve traveled and hiked in the Canadian Rockies, New Zealand, and the French Alps, recently emailed us several good questions about our experiences this winter in the mountains along the Mediterranean. He’s pondering a long, adventurous journey himself and wants it to be soul-enriching, not just a sight-seeing trip. Here’s what he asked and how we answered:

Q: What do you find challenging about your work hiking/traveling?

A: Balancing how much we take with how much we give. We don’t want hiking/traveling to be entirely selfish, which it can easily become. We want to use what we experience to heighten our contribution to others through our books and website blog. We want hiking/travel to make us wiser and more compassionate. What we learn, we can share through our writing. Compassion is a welcome gift in any human exchange.

Q: What meaning did you get from Liguria as opposed to the Costa Blanca?

A: We’re in Liguria now, just inland from the Italian Riviera. The true meaning of a travel experience takes time to bubble up through the soul into the conscious mind. We think it’s yet to do that. We could, of course, offer several answers to that question now. But the real answer will probably emerge later.

Q: What did France’s maritime alps say to you, and what did Italy’s Alpi Apuane say to you?

A: France said “You’re here rather early for hiking.” Italy is saying, “Just in case you didn’t understand it in French, I’ll repeat it in Italian: ‘You’re here rather early for hiking.’”

Q: Why did you choose, or what feelings led you, to go to Liguria?

A: We came to Liguria for the same reasons that have motivated all our European journeys. It feels as if our mental/emotional tank, with regard to Europe, was barely a quarter full. We want to fill up. Our desire to see Europe’s architectural and natural beauty remains intense. Because European society is ancient, there are trails everywhere. More trails per square kilometer here than anywhere. We’re hikers, so how can we resist the Continent of a Million Trails? The reason we came this winter is that we wanted to escape the vastly harsher winter weather at home, in the Canadian Rockies.

Q: How did the feelings generated in Liguria inspire or contribute to your next choice of destination?

A: On the simplest level, we’re compelled to return to these mountains in summer to take full advantage of all the high-elevation hiking trails that are inaccessible to us in winter. On a deeper level, our experience here is nudging our gaze back to North America, specifically to Utah, where we want to build a home in the high-desert canyon country, where the infinite canyons invite endless exploration, and where our souls resonate most vibrantly with the land.

Q: Do you get a sense for local people when hiking in Europe?

A: Yes, but not the present-day locals. We rarely meet anyone hiking here in winter. But we get a strong sense for the Europeans who built the ancient trails. These people are no longer physically present, of course, but we sense them nonetheless. We not only see their handiwork, we use it, much as they did. The trails they built are not just functional, they’re art. Beautiful, earthen art. The terraces they constructed are marvels of patience, engineering, craftsmanship. The trees they cultivated are gorgeous. These people obviously had a profound relationship with the land. We can’t help but begin to see the world through those people’s eyes and to feel kinship with them. And through them, we deepen our relationship with the Earth.