Don’t Hike Empty-Handed

Hiking season is here. Got trekking poles? If not, buy them now. They’ll help ensure you cover more ground—more efficiently and comfortably—every precious day you spend hiking this summer. And they’ll add years to your hiking life by significantly reducing impact to your joints.

In 1994, when Kath and I began working on Don’t Waste Your Time in the North Cascades, The Opinionated Hiking Guide (now titled Hiking From Here to WOW: North Cascades), we hiked without poles every day for a month. We both developed knee pain. The next summer we used Leki trekking poles every day for three months and our knees were never strained. We felt like four-legged animals. We were more sure-footed. Our speed and endurance increased. Since then, we’ve considered trekking poles required equipment—nearly as important as our boots and packs.

The Benefits of Trekking Poles

Studies show that during a typical 8-hour hike you’ll transfer more than 250 tons of pressure to a pair of trekking poles. When going downhill, poles significantly reduce stress to your knees, as well as your lower back, heel and forefoot. They alleviate knee strain when you’re going uphill too, because you’re climbing with your arms and shoulders, not just your legs. Poles also improve your posture. They keep you more upright, which gives you greater lung capacity and allows more efficient breathing.

The heavier your pack, the more you’ll appreciate the support of trekking poles. You’ll find them especially helpful for crossing unbridged streams, traversing steep slopes, and negotiating snowfields or muddy, rooty, rough stretches of trail. Poles prevent ankle sprains—a common hiking injury. By making you more stable, they actually help you relax, boosting your sense of security and confidence.

Don’t carry one of those big, heavy, gnarled, wooden staffs, unless you’re going to a costume party dressed as Gandalf. They’re more burden than benefit. If you can’t afford trekking poles, make do with a pair of old ski poles. They’re not as effective or comfortable as poles designed specifically for trekking, but they’re better than hiking empty handed. If possible, invest in a pair of true trekking poles.

Even the best trekking poles are not expensive: under $140 per pair. The leading brands are Komperdell, Black Diamond, and Leki. We’ve never found Komperdell poles appealing, so we haven’t used them and cannot comment on them. But we know Leki trekking poles intimately. And we’ve tested Black Diamond’s newest trekking poles.

Black Diamond vs. Leki

Leki trekking poles (various models) have been our constant companions for 17 years. We can recommend them without hesitation. Their durability has been astonishing. And their Aergon grips are by far the most comfortable available. In particular, we suggest the Leki Thermolite Aergon Antishock for men, and the Leki Thermolite Shiva Aergon Antishock for women.

Our only complaint about Leki poles is that the twist-lock mechanisms require too much effort. To lengthen or shorten the poles in response to varying terrain, you must unlock, adjust, then re-lock the poles. It’s just difficult enough that we often don’t do it. We just continue hiking with the poles at a less-than-optimal length: either slightly too long or short.

All trekking poles made by Black Diamond have flick locks instead of twist locks. Leki, too, has begun offering flick-lock trekking poles. Many people prefer flick locks, because they’re very easy to operate, and they lock more securely. We don’t like flick locks because they give poles a heavier swing weight, making them more awkward and cumbersome. And flick locks are bulky. Most flick-lock trekking poles have two flick locks per pole, which makes them look like orthopedic devices.

We prefer the streamlined twist locks, even if they’re not as easy to operate. You swing your poles with every stride. You adjust your poles only occasionally. So it’s logical that “quick” trekking poles with an optimal swing weight would be preferable to poles that feel heavy and slow but are easy to adjust.

You now have another option, however: Black Diamond’s “Z Poles.” One model of Z Pole is the “Distance FL.” It has no locking mechanisms on the two lower sections of each pole. Instead, there’s just one flick lock located high on the shaft, just below the grip, where it has no effect on swing weight. The lower sections of the Distance FL engage and disengage much the same way as tent poles.

These new BD poles seemed like a significant improvement, so we purchased a pair for each of us. We’ve been testing them recently. Here are our conclusions:

• The BD poles feel as reliably sturdy as our Leki poles.

• On steep ascents and descents, we don’t hesitate to adjust the length of the BD poles, because the flick lock works quickly, easily and perfectly every time.

• The BD’s single flick lock (located high on the shaft, near the grip) has almost no affect on swing weight. The BDs feel nearly as light and quick as our Leki poles. Not quite, but nearly.

• The BD poles, however, are stiffer than the Leki poles. And the BD shafts do not taper as narrowly near the tip as the Leki shafts do. This means the BD poles transfer more shock and vibration up the shaft to our hands and wrists. With each pole plant, the BDs land with a jarring thud. This is annoying and uncomfortable, especially on sustained, steep descents. The Leki shafts flex slightly, so they absorb shock. Even Leki poles without shock absorbers are more forgiving and comfortable than the BDs.

• The grips on the Distance FL poles are not ergonomic. They’re cylindrical. They’re also very slender. And they’re virtually straight. This makes them far less comfortable than the sculpted, more substantial, positive-angle, Leki Aergon grips. You should rarely hold trekking poles tightly. You should hold them loosely, with your wrists cradled in the straps. Yet the size and shape of the grips significantly influence how comfortable your trekking poles are. Leki poles are supremely comfortable. BD poles are markedly less comfortable.

• The tops of the BD grips are small, about the size of a quarter. The tops of the Leki grips are elongated and bulbous. On extremely steep descents, it’s often helpful to place the palms of your hands on top of the grips. You can do this comfortably with the Leki grips. On the BD grips, it’s awkward and soon hurts.

• The BD straps are nearly as comfortable as the Leki straps. (Nearly, but not quite.) The BD straps, however, are attached to the grip with a small loop of thin nylon cord. To us, this appears to be a weak point in the design. How long will that cord last? We’re skeptical. But we know our Leki straps have never failed us.

• The tips of both the BD and Leki poles are carbide. But the BD tips screw into a plastic receiver. The Leki tips are permanently embedded in a plastic receiver. Carbide tips eventually wear out, but it takes a long time. When a Leki tip wears out, you simply replace the entire receiver/tip. The BD tips are intended to be installed and removed by hand, but you’ll likely need a pair of pliers. Even with pliers, it’s not possible to completely tighten the BD tips. They remain somewhat loose in the receiver. Perhaps that’s okay, but it appears the BD tips could loosen, unscrew, and fall out.

• One advantage of the BD poles is that they come with two pairs of interchangeable tips: one pair of carbide tips, one pair of hard plastic tips. Presumably the plastic tips would be ideal on canyon-country slickrock. Another advantage of the BD poles is that the tips, because they’re separate from the receivers, are less expensive than the Leki tips.

Final Analysis

The BD poles are much easier to adjust, and they lock more securely. We like the interchangeable tips for use on different terrain. For traveling, the BD poles are more convenient. When you break a BD pole down into three sections, the sections remain loosely linked together. Assembling the pole is as easy as connecting the bungee-cord-linked sections of a tent pole.

But the BD poles, despite their sophisticated innovations, do not compete with the sophisticated feel of the Leki poles. For us, feel is everything. Our trekking poles are not a mere accessory we use only occasionally. They’re essential equipment that we hold in our hands and use constantly, all day, every day we hike. After marveling at the ingenious design of the BD poles, we were soon frustrated with them on the trail, wishing we had our trusted Leki poles in hand.

The Black Diamond Distance FL “Z” poles are intriguing and impressive. They’re easier to assemble, adjust, and disassemble. They’re more convenient to transport. But the Leki Thermolite Aergon Antishock trekking poles are vastly superior where it counts: while you’re striding along the trail.

We’ll continue recommending Leki trekking poles. Meanwhile, we suspect Leki will introduce new poles with design improvements similar to, perhaps superior to, those now available on the BD poles. So check Leki.com occasionally.

Whichever brand of trekking pole you prefer, buy a pair soon so you’ll have them all summer. At the moment, you’ll find Leki Thermolite Aergon and Leki Luau Aergon trekking poles on sale at www.sierratradingpost.com for $86.37, which is 30% off the regular price of $124.78. These poles don’t have the anti-shock feature, but they’re otherwise excellent.

In November, 2010, we sold our 2006 Toyota Rav4 and purchased a 2008, 19-foot Airstream Bambi SE and a base model 2010 Nissan Pathfinder. In a previous post, titled “The Backcountry Hikers’ Frontcountry Dilemma: Tent Camping vs. RVing,” we described the travel trailers (TTs) we considered before choosing the Airstream. In this post, we’ll describe our feelings about the Airstream now that we’ve been camping in it several months. We’ll also describe the tow vehicles (TVs) we considered and tell you how we feel about the Pathfinder now that we’ve put it to the test.

First, here are the TVs that made our short list:

Vehicle        engine    liters     hp         torque     towing capacity

2010
Toyota
RAV 4          V6        3.5        269         246          3,500 lbs

2010
Toyota
FJ Cruiser    V6        4          259          270          5,000 lbs

2010
Toyota
4Runner        V6       4          270          278          5,000 lbs

2010
Nissan
Xterra            V6        4         261          281          5,000 lbs

2010
Nissan
Pathfinder     V6         4       266           288          6000 lbs

2010
Jeep
Liberty          V6         3.7     210          235           5000 lbs

2011
VW
Touareg        V6 TDI    3      225          406           7700 lbs

As we explained, we originally purchased our Toyota Rav4 with the intention of pulling a small, light TT. But after seriously researching TTs, we lost our enthusiasm for any of the options that were within the Rav’s towing capacity:

T@b
UBW – 1615 lbs
GVWR – 1939 lbs
15’ 6” total length, 10’ 3” interior length
The T@b is no longer manufactured, but this website…  http://rosalindgardner.com/inside-the-tb-trailer/ … offers photos and stats that might help you decide if you want to purchase a used one.

Forest River Rpod 171
UBW – 2121 lbs
GVWR – 3181 lbs
18’ 4” total length, 15’ 8” interior length
www.forestriverinc.com

Camplite CL13QBB
UBW – 1900 lbs
GVWR – 2500 lbs
16’ 6” total length, interior length not stated on website
www.livinlite.com

Northern Lite
UBW – 1980 lbs
GVWR not stated on website
16’ total length, interior length not stated on website
www.northern-lite.com

Escape 15B
UBW 1750 lbs
GVWR 3500 lbs
15’ 8” total length, interior length not stated on website
www.escapetrailer.com

Casita Liberty Deluxe 17’
UBW – 2480 lbs
GVWR – 3500 lbs
17’ total length, interior length not stated on website
www.casitatraveltrailers.com

You’ll find subjective descriptions of the above trailers in our previous post titled “The Backcountry Hikers’ Frontcountry Dilemma: Tent Camping vs. RVing.”

Here are the Airstream options we considered:

Airstream Sport 16’
UBW – 2897 lbs
GVWR – 3500 lbs
16’ 4’ total length, 13 ft interior length
www.airstream.com

Airstream 19’ Bambi SE or 19’ Flying Cloud
UBW – 3792 lbs
GVWR – 4500 lbs
19’ 2” total length, 15’ 5” interior length
www.airstream.com

Here are some other interesting RVs we researched:

www.bigfootrv.com
(They closed shop briefly a couple years ago, but they’ve resumed building quality TTs and truck campers in Edmonton, Alberta.)

www.earthroamer.com
(The ultimate truck camper. Excessive in every way, but fascinating to contemplate.)

www.sportsmobile.com
(Luxurious, capable, camperized 4WD vans.)

Safari Condo (www.safaricondo.com)
(A unique TT made in Canada. The model 1723 is 17 feet long, looks fabulous, has a shower, but costs $31,000. Production is limited, however, and what if that lift motor malfunctions?)

Scamp (www.scamptrailers.com)
(Similar to Casita and Escape.)

Heartland (www.heartlandrvs.com)
The Edge, MPG, and Focus models are light yet fully featured.

Choosing a travel trailer (TT) and tow vehicle (TV) is a complex decision, because you’re simultaneously choosing two vehicles and must inevitably make several compromises. What swayed us away from the Rav4 plus an Escape (our favourite of the lightweight TTs), and toward a more robust TV plus an Airstream, was three realizations:

(1) The GVWR of the Escape 15B and that of the Airstream Sport 16’ are identical. We could not fully load either of these TTs and expect our Rav4 to comfortably, safely pull them in all conditions.

(2) The materials, engineering and construction of an Escape are toy-like compared to an Airstream. If purchasing a new, stronger TV, we’d much rather own an Airstream.

(3) It’s possible to find a used-but-well-cared-for Airstream for about the same price as a new Escape. For example, a new Escape 15B sells for $19,600 plus options, and most people will find many of the options essential. While researching TTs, however, we found a 2004, 19’ Airstream Bambi in superb condition for $23,000, and a beautiful, 2004, 16’ Airstream International CCD Bambi also for $23,000. Both the Airstreams were luxuriously equipped. By the time we ordered the necessary options for the Escape, it too would have tipped the scale toward $23,000. Yet the Escape did not warrant comparison to either of these Airstreams.

Step inside an Escape and an Airstream. The difference is obvious and dramatic. If you intend to use your TT for only a few weeks each summer, an Escape is fine. If, like us, you intend to live in your TT for several months each year, you’ll probably prefer the Airstream. The Escape is adequate. The Airstream is sumptuous. The Escape feels like shelter. The Airstream feels like home. It’s also apparent that while Escapes hold their value, Airstreams are rare and coveted in Canada. Either should be easy to sell, but if I had to sell one or the other, particularly in Canada, I’d feel more confident selling an Airstream.

As for tow vehicles, any on our short list would comfortably pull the 16’ Airstream Sport. But only the Nissan Pathfinder or VW Touareg can manhandle a 19’ Airstream Bambi. The 2011 Touareg is the most fuel-efficient tow vehicle now available: 28 mpg hwy, 19 mpg city. Yet the price of a base “Comfortline” Touareg— $53,000 CDN—was far beyond our means. We figured if we had to switch vehicles, it would be a mistake to opt for one with a mere 5000-lb towing capacity, especially when we could get a rebate on a Pathfinder (towing capacity of 6000 lbs) that made it as affordable as any of our other choices. So we opted for a Pathfinder and a 19’ Airstream.

We left Canada in early December, 2010, driving the Pathfinder. We’d already purchased the Airstream from a couple in San Francisco who were purchasing a motorhome. We picked up the trailer at their house and continued down the California coast.

We’ve now pulled the trailer through dense traffic in L.A., Phoenix and Tucson. Most of the past three months, however, we’ve avoided cities. We’ve primarily camped in state and national-park campgrounds, but we have free-camped. Occasionally we’ve left the trailer and driven the Pathfinder on unpaved roads to remote trailheads.

Our conclusions?

We’re completely satisfied with the Pathfinder and the Airstream. They’ve met or exceeded all our expectations, and we’ve developed a strong affection for both.

We prefer the Pathfinder to the Rav. It’s much more spacious: leg room as well as cargo room. A couple times we’ve slept in it at trailheads, and in this regard it’s far more comfortable than the Rav. It also tracks solidly on the highway, whereas the Rav was slightly skittish. We miss the sports-car-like acceleration of the Rav, but the Pathfinder is no laggard. Best of all, the Pathfinder gets the highway gas mileage we were promised by Nissan: about 22 mpg on its own, and about 16 mpg pulling the trailer. That’s not a big drop from the Rav, which never did better than 26 mpg.

During our travels, we met someone pulling a new, 17’ Casita TT with a Rav identical to the one we owned. He was deeply disappointed because his highway gas mileage had dropped to 11 mpg. It was his first month with the Casita and already he was considering trading up to a more robust TV. His report corroborated our belief that our Rav, despite its stated towing capacity, would not have handled an Escape TT to our satisfaction.

As for the Airstream, it’s superb. It serves us perfectly as a mobile home and office: our company’s winter HQ. It’s intelligently designed, solidly built, highly functional, extremely livable.

The bed is narrower than we’d prefer, but it’s adequate. There’s no kitchen counter space, which can be awkward, but we’ve managed. Though we’d imagined ourselves towing it on unpaved roads to more remote campgrounds and trailheads, we’ve been reluctant to do so. It can probably take the abuse, but we’re disinclined to test it. We prefer to unhitch, leave the trailer behind, and take just the Pathfinder. That’s as critical as we can be of the Airstream, and none of these drawbacks surprised us. We were aware of them long before we purchased it.

We enjoy the Airstream’s spacious dinette. We can leave the table up, rather than be constantly disassembling and reassembling it. We love the panoramic, wrap around, front window. The insulation (including heated, insulated tanks) keeps us comfortable in very cold weather. The shower is huge. So is the fridge. Storage space is vast and convenient. We didn’t think we wanted a vanity/bathroom sink, but we’ve found it useful when the kitchen sink is full of dirty dishes. Even after continually working 30 hours a week in the Airstream, its interior remains very pleasing to us. And the trailer tows beautifully. We use a Reese weight-distribution hitch. No need for an anti-sway device. The Airstream tracks perfectly straight even when huge semis blast by us on the highway.

And the comments we frequently get…

“Love your Airstream!”
“That is the cutest trailer!”
“Oh, I’ve always wanted one of those!”

… are gratifying.

Having never towed anything, we were unnerved the first few days we towed the Airstream. But we quickly got accustomed to it. We’ve safely negotiated narrow, crowded, parking lots. We’ve even learned to back up efficiently, without devolving into the stereotypical wife and husband screaming at each other in the campground. She directs. I follow her directions. So far, no trees, homes, offices, other vehicles or people have been harmed in the process.

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.

Kathy and I were recently interviewed by Allan Buckingham, for his “Alpine Authors” program on Banff Park Radio. You can listen to the podcast on the Authors page of our website: http://www.hikingcamping.com/authors.php

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The Opinionated Hikers on Patrol for You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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.