Kindersley-Sinclair Col, There and Back Again

We got up early, purchased snacks at the coffee shop, and got to the Kindersley parking area at 7am. First ones in the parking lot, not bad! We crossed the road, read the bear warning notices prominently posted (nothing new), and headed into the woods.

The shady trail began by switchbacking up through woods. It was cool, and we kept a brisk pace. (We did stop for an amazing stand of lady slippers.) After about an hour and a half, the trail flirted with an avalanche field, filling the meadow between our side of the valley and the other with large gravels, weeds, and tall shrubbery. After a few minutes, the trail (or what we thought was the trail) petered out. If we had lost the trail, where was it going to pick up again? Our guidebook mentioned that the trail "skirted the edge of an avalanche field." Not wishing to lose ground by going back until we hit the trail again, we cast about for the trail in the field. No go. Then we decided to climb a draw on the other side (the closer side to where we were by then), and started up. There were a few brief patches of false trail, but it wasn't until we gained some altitude and looked back and down that we saw a section of the true trail ... on the far side, the original side. Trying yet again to outsmart the terrain, we tried to beat our way to the trail by following the contour, cross-country. We were quickly disabused of that possibility, because although the pines, willows, and other vegetation were not technically a laurel hell, they were impenetrable, and the hillside was given to sudden steep patches. Back to the draw, and then down, across, and up -- including a hand-and-foot scramble -- and we made the trail again. We had lost an hour to perhaps an hour and a half. Joan and I made a vow that this embarrassing lesson would be our secret, and that our first choice, in future, would always be to refind the trail by backtracking.

And we were now no longer the first group on the trail. As we scrambled up to the true trail, I saw another hiker heading up it. (It turned out to be another couple.) Now another digression -- Canadian hikers seem to be prone to late starts. Perhaps this is because it stays light so late in summer way up there. But were were almost always the first or second party on a trail. Today we would be the second to the top (woulda been first if we hadn't lost the trail), and we encountered at least half a dozen parties headed up as we headed down in the afternoon. Just sayin'.

We had a brief rest stop at Kindersley Pass, and met the couple that had gotten ahead of us. (Kindersley Pass is the pass at the head of the valley to the next valley north, outside the national park. Kindersley Col is the low spot in the ridge that allows you to cross to the next parallel valley (Sinclair Creek) to the east). Then a bit more climbing, and the view opened up down the ridgeline to the col and the knob beyond.

We crossed some sections of trail with packed dirt or dirt and stone that weren't level, but tilted with the slope of the hill. Our walking sticks were reassuring on those stretches.

We went about halfway up to the knob from the col and had lunch. Three bighorn sheep were taking it easy on the eastern slope of the ridge below us. If we had not been a bit tuckered from our detour, maybe we would have gone to the top of the knob. Even so, the views were spectacular! I've constructed three panoramas to show you the 360° scene of mountain range after mountain range. Be sure to click on them to see the larger versions. I would have made a single 360° panorama, but on the computer screen it would look like a piece of spaghetti.

Looking east:

 

 

Looking north:

 

Looking southwest:

On our way back down, we encountered a couple that had spent extra time in the avalanche field, much as we had. They told us of their adventure, and said that they had helped yet another couple get out. Joan and I felt so much better -- we weren't the only ones! -- and so I am free to break our vow of silence. We also encoutered a spruce grouse and one of its chicks that was trying to hide in a tree, and had a good look at a varied thrush.

At the parking area, we chatted briefly with a couple we had met coming up, almost at the col, as we started down. They had taken the shorter, steeper way back and arrived first. Asked about that route, they had a one-word answer: "steep." Sounds like returning the way we came was a sound choice.

Our voices were a touch hoarse from the calling out to the bears, but it was worthwhile -- we hadn't seen any. Might have heard one, though, most of the way back down; it might have been a bear walking around some little distance up the hill, or might it have been our imagination? We'll never know.