It’s Wednesday, August 31, and our annual blast of winter-preview weather has arrived. It’s 4°C at our house in Canmore. It’s been raining all day. The clouds are so low, the mountains ringing our town are obscured. Tonight, the rain will likely turn to sleet or snow. And when the clouds clear, the summits will be white. But the clouds will clear. The lashings of wet snow will melt off the peaks. Summer weather will return—soon. This is just the annoying-yet-motivating reminder notice we always receive this time of year from those capricious Weather Demons who lord it over the Canadian Rockies. “Take full advantage of optimal hiking weather,” they’re saying, “because those days—numbered to begin with—are now fiendishly few.”

Weather info sources that will help you plan the remainder of the 2011 hiking season:

http://www.theweathernetwork.com/

http://www.weatheroffice.gc.ca/canada_e.html

http://www.skibanff.com/conditions/cams

http://www.skilouise.com/conditions/mountain-cam.php

http://www.skimarmot.com/conditions_webcams.html

Parks Canada is Off Route

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

For strong, experienced hikers, Caldron Lake is a premier dayhiking destination in the Canadian Rockies. Start very early, so you’ll have time to roam beyond the lake: generally north, through the low pass between Mistaya Mtn (left / west) and Caldron Peak (right / east). You’ll see Delta Glacier (left / northwest), and a smaller glacier on Mt. Peterson’s south flank (ahead / north). But the reward here isn’t a specific view; it’s the joy of wandering in such a high, remote, lonely place, and the raw beauty you’ll witness in every direction. In this photo, Kath is returning from the edge of Delta Creek canyon. That’s Mt. Peterson behind her. To her left (your right) is a shoulder of Caldron Peak.

Roaming north of Caldron Lake, Banff National Park, Trip 9, page 71, "Don't Waste Your Time in the Canadian Rockies"