A Paved Road So Compelling, We Asked Ourselves “Why Hike When We Can Ride?”

Though hiking is our focus in life, we occasionally take a break from the backcountry to go road cycling. Riding is an effective way to stay fit when trails are snow covered but paved roads remain dry.

Choose the right road, and cycling can be just as scenic as hiking—perhaps more so, if you factor in how far you can ride in a day and how much scenery that distance allows you to appreciate compared to a day on foot.

During our recent foray to Tucson, Arizona, we brought our road bikes. Sure, winter hiking is superb there. But while driving to trailheads in the Santa Catalina Mountains last winter, we realized the highway climbing from Tucson up 9157-ft (2792-m) Mt. Lemmon is a world-class road ride on par in every respect with Mont Ventoux, of Tour de France fame. We had to try it.

Lemmon is the highest and largest massif of the four sky-island mountains surrounding Tucson. Sky Island means an island of forest in a sea of desert. Lemmon towers over Tucson, and the highway (skyway, is more like it) affords views of other, prominent sky-islands including Tanque Verde Mtn (nearby SE), Rincon Peak (distant SE), and Mt. Wrightson (SE).

The road has many names. Most people call it the “Mt. Lemmon Hwy.” Some call it the “Catalina Hwy.” And it’s now officially the “Sky Island Scenic Byway.” The mountain was named in honor of botanist Sarah Lemmon, who in 1881 was lead to the summit by Native American guides.

The ride is spectacular, exhilarating, challenging. It’s a constant, serpentine, cliff-side ascent above canyons, beneath hoodoo pinnacles, ultimately into a grand forest. It climbs from sand to ice, from saguaro cacti to ponderosa pines, from snakes to bears. Views are frequent, often panoramic. And the pavement is perfection: smooth, with a slender-but-adequate shoulder providing a margin of safety. In all of North America, very few roads offer such magnificent cycling.

As for vehicle traffic, cyclists can relax on the Mt. Lemmon Hwy. The road is so sinuous, it’s difficult for motorists to drive dangerously fast. If you ride here midweek, you’ll encounter only light vehicle traffic. And if you ride here on a weekend, when vehicle traffic increases markedly, you’ll be among many other cyclists strung out along the entire route, so motorists will be alert to your presence. Plus, Tucson is a bike-friendly city where—generally—cyclists are expected and accepted. In that regard, Tucson is refreshingly European.*

The Mt. Lemmon Hwy was completed in 1950 after 17 years of construction. It was awarded the Arizona Engineering Excellence Grand Award for Context Sensitive Design in 2005, because it deftly preserved the tumultuous terrain and delicate environment.

We’ve cycled Hwy 1 along California’s Big Sur Coast, the Icefields Parkway in the Canadian Rockies, and Utah’s Hwy 12 from Escalante to Capitol Reef National Park via Boulder and Torrey. All are premier rides. But Mt. Lemmon is our favorite.

In December, 2009, Team Radioshack trained for the 2010 Tour de France on Mt. Lemmon. No wonder. Winter weather here is so consistently sunny and warm that you can usually ride in shorts and short sleeves. Only if it gets windy higher on the mountain might you need tights and a wind shell.

Our first day on Mt. Lemmon, we cycled 14 miles (22.5 km), gaining 3,500 ft (1067 m) from elevation 3050 ft (930 m), to Windy Point Vista, at 6560 ft (2000 m). Pedaling at our loping, “scenery first” pace, it took us about one hour and 40 minutes, plus 20 minutes for stretching and refueling. Bear in mind, we stopped and gawked at all the vista pullouts. We recommend you do, too, even though your bike already grants you a vastly better view than is possible from a car.

Going that slow was a joy. We were constantly captivated by the views and astonished by the highway itself. In some places, only if you tilt your head way back will you see the highway almost directly above you. Yet only a few, brief sections of pavement qualify as “steep.” Languorous switchbacks keep the ascent mercifully gradual.

The 14-mile, downhill blast is ecstatic. From Windy Point Vista, we probably pedaled no more than a dozen crank revolutions (in the vicinity of Green Mtn trailhead). We arrived at our parked car within 35 minutes.

We were back on Mt. Lemmon a week later. This time we covered 20 miles (32.2 km), gaining 4150 ft (1265 m) to the Palisade Visitor Center at 7200 ft (2195 m). The 20-mile, downhill blast: 50 minutes. Emotional effect: a strong, lasting desire to return to Tucson and ride Mt. Lemmon again and again.

You’re a hiker who rides? Mt. Lemmon is one of those rare places where you might prefer a bike beneath your bum instead of a pack on your back.

Getting There

Drive to the junction of Sabino Canyon Road and Tanque Verde Road. This is in NE Tucson. Udall Park is on the SE corner. Reset your trip odometer to zero here, then proceed E on Tanque Verde.

1.2 km (0.75 mi) Bear left on Tanque Verde Road, where right leads to Wrightstown and Pantano Road.

4 mi (2.5 km) Turn left onto Mt. Lemmon Hwy.

7.3 mi (4.5 km) Park on the right, just beyond milepost 1, at 3050 ft (930 m).

The Ride

0 mi (0 km) Milepost 1, at 3050 ft (930 m).

5.7 mi (9.2 km) Molino Basin rest area, at 4370 ft (1332 m).

9 mi (14.5 km) Thimble Peak Vista, at 5320 ft (1622 m). Here you can peer W, across Bear Canyon—the largest drainage in the Santa Catalina Mtns. Seven Cataracts Vista is shortly beyond, followed by three long switchbacks. Soon enter a forested canyon. Beside you is a creek drainage harboring sycamore trees.

12 mi (19.3 km) General Hitchcock campground, at 5920 ft (1805 m). It’s closed (gated) during winter.

14 mi (22.5 km) Windy Point Vista, at 6560 ft (2000 m). A spectacular vantage. Public toilets. In the next couple miles, you’ll pass Geology and Hoodoo vistas.

17.6 mi (28.3 km) San Pedro Vista. The Galiuro Mtns are visible E.

20 mi (32.2 km) Palisades Visitor Center, 7200 ft (2195 m). Pass a water faucet and public toilets on the right, just before arriving.

25 mi (40.25 km) Village of Summerhaven, 7840 ft (2390 m).

*Here’s another, exceptional ride in Tucson. Drive to the East section of Saguaro National Park. From the visitor center, cycle the 8-mi (13-km) Cactus Loop. Do it twice. The scenery is good, the pavement smooth, and the midweek vehicle traffic is nil.

Visitation to Canada’s Rocky Mountain National Parks has been declining. In an effort to reverse that trend, Parks Canada has announced it will allow the construction of a via ferrata in Banff National Park, at Mt. Norquay Ski Area, above Banff townsite.

Parks Canada does not construct new hiking trails in the Rockies. They don’t even adequately maintain existing hiking trails. (See photos below.) Yet they support what will essentially be an amusement-park attraction? We think this is ridiculous.

While hiking throughout the Canadian Rockies national parks, we’re constantly noticing areas where, if a new trail were constructed, it would soon become famous, because hiking it would be thrilling. Does anyone at Parks Canada recognize these opportunities?

A via ferrata focuses climbers’ attention on the immediate challenges it poses. A hiking trail opens hikers’ eyes, minds and hearts to the environment it traverses. Is anyone at Parks Canada aware of this difference?

Last year, we climbed some of the original via ferrata in the Italian Dolomiti. The routes were constructed during WWI to enable military troops to travel through the mountains. Re-purposing these via ferrata for peacetime recreation made sense.

Constructing a new via ferrata route where there is no such history, however, is nonsense, especially given that the Canadian Rockies’ hiking-trail potential remains largely untapped.

Yes, largely untapped. For every Sentinel Pass trail, Lake O’Hara Alpine Circuit, Rockwall trail, or Skyline trail, there are dozens of prospective trails in the Canadian Rockies that would be equally engaging.

Any of them, if constructed, would boost park visitation more effectively than would a via ferrata, because they would enhance the Canadian Rockies’ long-established reputation as one of the world’s premier hiking destinations.

Any of these as-yet unrealized trails would also better serve Parks Canada than would a via ferrata, because they would direct visitors’ attention differently: not toward a manmade contrivance (safety cables strung across a cliff, which could just as easily be located in New York State), but instead toward the unique, vast grandeur of the Canadian Rockies.

That’s our opinion. What’s yours?

Late Fall Hiking in the Canadian Rockies

Today is November 9, 2010. In our last blog post, we said that upon returning from northeast Italy and the French island of Corsica, we’d offer you whatever practical info we could about climbing the via ferrata in the Dolomiti and hiking the GR20.

Well, we’re back—early.

After one week of gorgeous weather in the Dolomiti, our via ferrata experience was cut short by an onslaught of snow and icy temperatures. Likewise, after one week of optimal weather on Corsica, we were forced off the GR 20 by lashing rain, obstinate wind, and low clouds (zero visibility), plus looming transportation disruptions in France due to nationwide protests (including fuel-refinery strikes) in response to the proposed retirement-benefits age increase from 60 to 62.

Still, we enjoyed the trip. We were grateful for the freedom to travel. And we learned a lot, particularly about how best to hike the GR20 unsupported—carrying a tent and your own food, thus avoiding the overcrowded huts. We’ll tell all soon, in an upcoming post.

For now, we’ll offer a brief report on some of the dayhikes we completed here in the Canadian Rockies immediately upon returning home. After all that adventure-quashing snow and rain in Europe, we arrived in Canmore beneath a blue sky. The sun was brilliant, the air calm, the temperature a relaxing 19° C, and the mountains not the least bit white. We dumped our climbing and backpacking gear, loaded our daypacks, and immediately ventured onto some of our local trails intending to fully appreciate this unexpected gift from that infuriatingly inscrutable weather demon Climate Change.

In Yoho National Park, we saw nobody while hiking the Emerald Triangle (Trip 52, page 199, Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies). The entire trail circling Emerald Lake (by way of Burgess Pass, the Burgess Shale Beds, the Wapta Highline, and Yoho Pass) was free of snow yet also devoid of hikers. Emerald Lake Lodge, usually a hive of activity, was closed for the season. No tour buses. No crowds. The parking lot, constantly teeming in summer, was empty. Ours was the only vehicle. So we urge you to keep this hike in mind for late fall, when you too might find optimal conditions yet have the trail to yourself.

Our experience in Yoho suggested anything was possible for hikers while such unseasonably warm weather persisted, so the next goal we set for ourselves was Tumbling Pass (Trip 35, page 152, Don’t Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies). Deep in Kootenay National Park, Tumbling Pass is among the scenic highlights of the famous Rockwall trail (Trip 89), which we’ve backpacked many times. On a dayhike (Trip 35) the pass is a distant yet worthy destination. But it’s next to, east of, and below the towering Rockwall. So we knew that, this time of year, it would be in shade when we arrived there at midday, and Tumbling Glacier would not be photogenic. What we’d forgotten was that, when the sun remains low on the horizon, shade = cold. We chose a sunny day, but our sacred star was unable to warm what it didn’t directly strike. So while the pass was snow-free, the air was icy. Soon after topping out, we were shivering. We snapped a couple photos, gobbled a snack, and layered up. Then we howled into the wilderness and began hiking out. It was November in the Canadian Rockies, we were carrying only daypacks, and at 4 p.m. we were crossing a frozen stream while still 11.5 km (7 mi) from the trailhead. It was exhilarating. What we saw on that hike, though impressive, was insignificant compared to what we felt. We were hyper-alert all day knowing winter was fast approaching, the sun was descending quickly, and we were utterly alone, way, way out in the backcountry. We treasure sharp-edged memories like this one just as much as we do the soft, warm ones.

Nevertheless, we sought a warmer, softer experience next time out. We hiked to Old Baldy Ridge (Trip 44, page 227, Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies). It’s an ideal late-fall hike, because the trail ascends beside McDougall Creek through a southwest-facing canyon into which the sun shines all day. And the ridgecrest affords a grand view west to the Great Divide. Even if you decline the final, steep-but-short ascent to the ridge, the basin below the ridge is sufficiently dramatic to serve as a destination. As recently as a couple days ago, the canyon and the ridge were free of snow.

Mt. Yamnuska, which is among our early-spring / late-fall favourites, is another hike we completed recently. We encountered only a little, crusty ice and a few patches of wet snow on the back side, but otherwise the route was dry. And we shared the mountain with only two other hikers the entire day.

Our most recent hike was on Sunday, November 7. With the temperature dropping, and dense clouds pouring over the Great Divide, we enjoyed striding around Upper Kananaskis Lake (Trip 46, page 235, Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies). Our friend Wood, the philosopher chef, joined us, so the conversation was as energizing as the scenery. The entire trail was snow-free. If you’re eager to get out, this 14.9-km (9.2-mi) loop is an optimal choice right now.

Though the weather appears to be returning to seasonal norms (daytime highs at or just above 0°C / 32°F), and skiers will soon venture onto the slopes at Sunshine and Lake Louise, the snowpack in the Canadian Rockies remains surprisingly light. Many hiking trails are still snow-free. In addition to those mentioned above, here are other prime possibilities:

Wasootch Ridge (Trip 43, page 223, Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies).

Mt. Rundle, South Summit (Trip 40, page 212, Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies).

From Old Baldy Ridge, we could see that even Mt. Allan (Trip 15, page 88, Where Locals Hike in the Canadian Rockies) is still hikeable. Here’s the link to the article we wrote about Mt. Allan in our Opinionated Hiker column in the Calgary Herald: http://www.calgaryherald.com/travel/Ready+challenge+Kananaskis+Country/3443994/story.html

The crowds and bugs are gone. The scenery is as magnificent as ever. The lighting is conducive to gorgeous photography. The solitude is delicious.

Walk on.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.