CR-2010: Lake O'Hara (part 2)

Day Four
The next morning dawned with an unsteady light. I took this picture on the way to breakfast.

Not trusting the weather, Joan and I decided to hike up to the Opabin Plateau, which as you might see from this map, has not only a viewpoint above Lake O'Hara, but a series of lakes, woods, and rocky outcroppings to explore. If you go all the way to the back of the plateau you reach Opabin Lake.


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Here's the view from Opabin Prospect.

It became apparent that this would be a day with hourly weather changes. So far, just sprinkles. Moving up the plateau from the prospect, I caught this image of the west face of Yukness through the larches.

From one of the rocky outcroppings, a large lake close to the prospect.

I must zoom in on the larch on the right. It's far along in its golden transition.

Here is one of the cascades that feeds that lake.

Joan, the family spotter, called out "goats!" Yes, there were mountain goats on the flanks of Yukness. A family of four, although it was rare to see all four at once. If they appear quite small in the photo, remember that you should always take your binoculars on a hike, regardless of the weather or terrain.

By now the sprinkles were a drizzle, and threatened to become a shower. For Joan and me, it seems to be an "Opabin thing" to eat lunch in the rain. One year we walked for half an hour trying to find a spot that was less wet, and finally ate standing up. This year, as the squall reached its peak, Joan found a comfortable nook in the lee of some trees. Had the rain been coming down vertically, there would have been no shelter at all, but because it was arriving at a 45° angle the needles where we sat were dry. Taking gloves off to eat meant that we'd get cold, but we knew we would warm up again.

From the top of the escarpment that holds Lake Opabin, we could look back on our lunch spot -- the cluster of trees on the right rear of the larger lake -- and more. Much more.

You can see it was still chilly, and the ground was still damp.

Lake Opabin itself was a few feet lower than we'd ever seen it before. See how the vegetation stops before it reaches the water?

This rather uninspired photo looks towards the glacier and the pass that mark the end of the plateau. I'm standing as close to the edge of the water as I dared, not wanting to get sucked into mud. It was a novelty to be standing where, last year, I would have been in the lake.

Then the rain quit. Joan and I decided to head towards All Souls' Prospect one stage at a time. The weather was uncertain, and going to All Souls' would mean hiking down from the Prospect. This was something we did not relish. A couple of years ago we went down from Wiwaxy Gap, rather than up, and were satisfied that we had accomplished it, but steep descents are hard on the knees and raise our uneasiness more than a steep ascent. Here's a picture of hikers on All Souls' that I took on Day Two. The trail up from Opabin is to the left of the hikers, the way down is the face on the right.

 

The first stage was a pleasant wander down the west side of the plateau; the second was following the alpine trail blazes through fields of large boulders and then among huge slanted tables of stone, until we reached the scree slopes that truly separated the plateau from All Souls'. The weather was holding up, so we decided to go for it. There was one short stretch that was so steep that the footing was uncertain, and we planted our feet and walking sticks very carefully, but overall the trail was fine. Here's a view from the Prospect.

There is a faint rainbow in the center of the picture, but the camera didn't pick it up well, so don't feel bad if you don't see more than a fuzzy streak. The rainbow was indicative of the weather on the exposed point of the Prospect, which was blustery with occasional two-minute spatterings. In this image you can follow the valley all the way down to the Trans-Canada Highway.

Next, a great perspective on the lodge and cabins.

And what's that behind and below, hidden from us as we walked above the ledges, but now open to view? A male mountain goat checking out two larches. A young one, for his horns are small. (Remember the rule: always take your binoculars with you.)

Clouds were moving in and it was time for us to get down, which we did successfully. It wasn't as bad as we had feared -- not uncommon -- but there were a couple of points where we were using our hands and climbing more than walking. Thankfully these were brief and manageable. Partway down I took a picture down into the Schaeffer Lake area, where you can see various trails winding.

We congratulated ourselves on turning a damp day into a great success. To wrap up Day Four, here's a picture of the anteroom in the lodge where jackets and wet shoes or boots are removed.

Day Five
The next day began with a steady light rain. Joan and I opted for a lower-altitude hike, to the lakes in the Duchesnay Basin. In the map below, Cathedral Lakes, Linda Lake, and Morning Glory Lakes are labeled. The white line on the right is the road up to Lake O'Hara (off the map to the bottom). To shorten an otherwise long day, we took the morning bus as far as the Linda Lake trailhead on the road, rather than starting from our cabin. We would need to walk all the way back, but we'd saved perhaps two miles of the less interesting territory close to the lodge and campgrounds.

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The rain prevented me from taking any pictures in the first few miles. Here's a colorful stand of larches along one arm of Linda Lake.

Further along, a crossroads with a very official-looking, bilingual sign.

We tramped past the Cathedral Lakes, towards Cathedral Basin and a viewpoint that precedes it. Joan and I had visited this viewpoint several years ago, in much warmer weather. However, the rocks and vegetation were so slick that after climbing perhaps halfway up, we decided to return to Cathedral Lake, where we had lunch and I took this picture.

Yesterday's rains and sprinkles had, at the higher elevations, fallen as snow. With today's warming daytime temperatures we had a running but intermittent show of what I call "mini-avalanches." Small bursts of snow would pour down a channel or crevice, large enough to see and to make noise, grabbing your attention. Not really enough snow to call an "avalanche," of course, but what else can you call it?

On our return we passed along the south shore of Linda Lake, and it was drizzling only lightly, enabling me to capture this view up the length of the lake.

Looking back, you can see how the weather causes the peaks lining the basin to fade.

We passed by the Morning Glory Lakes, and took the long, wooded, not so scenic path back to Lake O'Hara. But the excitement of the day was not yet over; as we drew close to Lake O'Hara (almost to the Parker Hut), we had a moment's view of a northern goshawk, our very first spotting of this magnificent raptor. The white stripe above the eyes is an unmistakable identification mark.

The return to our cabin was well-timed. The showers returned and turned to light snow before dinner. I took this picture from our front porch.

Day Six
From a Lake O'Hara point of view, there isn't much to report about day six. After breakfast I took this farewell photo and we took the morning bus down to our car.

I fired up the red Mustang and we pulled out, headed for Canmore and then Mount Engadine Lodge. 

CR-2010: Lake O'Hara (part 1)

Day One

The parking area for Lake O'Hara is a short drive up Kicking Horse Pass from Field, and just off the Trans-Canada Highway. We had plenty of time to meet the morning bus in; the access road, about 7 miles long, is for use only by lodge or Parks Canada (camping and day-trippers) buses. Or cross-country skiers in winter!

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It was a drizzly day, but we made good use of it. Our lakeside cabin would not be ready until early afternoon, so we took off for Lake Oesa with the bag lunches supplied by the lodge. It was familiar territory, but rewarding to see again. The weather made it a photo-free hike, but you'll see plenty from the next day. We returned to our cabin mid mid-afternoon to unpack (a slow-motion explosion) and clean up for dinner. Here's an exterior picture of our cabin taken later in the visit.

Here's the interior before we redecorated with the contents of our duffels.

Today's easier hike was welcome after the long Emerald Lake Triangle trek the day before. Joan and I discussed options for tomorrow, all dependent on which kind of weather would blow in.

Day Two
The weather promised to be decent, at least at the start of the day, although there would always be the possibility of a squall blowing through. Our pigs were ready to go.

Our first stage was to climb from the lake to Wiwaxy Gap. While still at the lake level I grabbed this photograph of the cabins on the north side of the peninsula, including our own.

The climb to Wiwaxy is steep, starting with tight switchbacks up the side of a gully, then working through ledges and the last of the trees, including an old giant (which I must get a photo of somehow next time), and then more slogging above the treeline to reach the gap. Our previous week of hiking clearly had a training effect; we reached Wiwaxy in 1½ hours, a good time for us.

From the gap we took the Huber Ledge alpine route (blazes painted on rocks rather than a clear trail) towards Lake Oesa. Shortly after setting out, but not strictly in the gap any more, I took this panorama. You can see the peninsula with the lodge and cabins jutting into Lake O'Hara at far right, and Lake Oesa at far left.

The Huber Ledge route is a gentle downhill towards Lake Oesa, and we stopped for lunch just short of Oesa. (The cookies available to put in your sack for lunch are one of Joan's top 5 highlights of these trips.) Here's a view coming up on Oesa.

We would be just passing by Lake Oesa and continuing on, this time on the Yukness Ledges alpine route. While passing through the greenery at the lake we encountered a thrush.

Here's a snapshot of a couple starting out on that route ahead of us.

Looking forward as we started on the Yukness Ledges we could see Wiwaxy Gap (the low spot in the ridge) and where we had been.

Near the first "corner," before the trail drops a couple of levels and starts to head west, we encountered a pika who felt so secure in his tiny valley among boulders that he munched contentedly even as we watched. They are usually reluctant to be observed for long. The white ear liner makes a strong fashion statement.


The midpoint of the Yukness Ledges trail offers long vistas, looking down the length of Lake O'Hara and, to the left, Mary Lake, the entrance to McArthur Pass, Odaray Grandview, Duchesnay Basin ... many, many landmarks.

The Yukness Ledges trail ends at the Opabin Plateau, and here we began to descend back down to the lake (on the East, not West, Opabin trail). On the way we were observed warily by a hoary marmot. There was also another pika, but I won't overload you with pika pictures. Yet.

Then a cleanup and another great dinner at the lodge.

Day Three
We decided to hike up to Lake McArthur, and see then what we felt like doing next. We started up the Big Larches trail, perhaps a bit less direct than the trail that starts at the Elizabeth Parker Hut, but we enjoy the combination of boulders (with potential for marmot and pika sightings) and larches. The morning started out with an extremely low ceiling.

The marmots and pikas were not awake yet, and we climbed higher. At McArthur Pass you decide whether to go to Odaray Grandview (a limited number of parties is allowed each day, to respect the bears), Lake McArthur by the high trail, or by the low trail. This year we saw something new: near the sign-in box for those going on to Odaray Grandview, there was an automatic camera. Now, is that for the humans or the bears and cougars? Or both?

We decided to go out the low trail and back the high trail. Wait, are those mountains?

We walked on and the pockets of clear air grew larger and more frequent.

One pika clearly had been assigned guard duty.

We arrived at Lake McArthur, which Joan reports was her father's favorite spot.

Here we rested, ate lunch, and enjoyed an interactive floor show with the ground squirrels and chipmunks. They are accustomed to humans, and to check out your crumb-dropping or morsel-tossing tendencies, they adopt one of two approaches. Some will approach you directly in fits and starts, moving a few feet at a time, pausing after each burst to strike a pose that has proven adorable in the past. If you don't do anything, they come closer still. Others prefer the indirect route; they will walk around behind you, still some distance away ... nothing to see here, just a browsing rodent ... and then sneak up on you when you're no longer looking at them. It grows into quite a game. If you poke at one with your walking stick to discourage it, it will first nibble on the tip of the stick to see if it's edible. When your location becomes too popular, the alpha squirrels will chase away the chipmunks and squirrels of lesser status.

Eventually we began climbing back down. From one shoulder we spied Schaeffer Lake from above, smack in the middle of the pass.

Down near the lake level, we saw this fellow. His presence explained a lot. We had heard other hikers speaking of a "marmot in a tree." It was hard to imagine one of those chunky tail-twitchers climbing a tree, and here was an explanation: a chubby squirrel.

There was a pair of diving ducks on the lake itself.

We chose to return by the Big Larches route -- it is much more interesting -- and the view was much brighter than in the morning.

The light and warmth had brought our furry friends out of their stone hideaways. In particular, there was a pair of marmots that we observed for several minutes. They were busy harvesting greenery and carrying it back to a burrow not far away; they would disappear into the trees with a mouthful of vegetation and reappear just seconds later, ready for more. Here one scans the clearing. You don't want to divulge the location of your winter burrow by being observed!

I don't think they were concerned by this pika on a nearby rock.

Our long lunch and critter pauses had used up much of the afternoon, so after a brief investigation of Mary Lake we called it a day. And had another great dinner at the lodge. Speaking of which, there was a change to the system this year. Joan called it "speed dating." In earlier years, you would mostly likely be sitting at a table for four or six, your tablemates chosen by the lodge, and there would be gradual turnover as people left and people came in. Now you have different tablemates every evening, which worked very well. Some years it seemed we kept bumping into lawyers, but this was a year for doctors at dinner.

In the next post I'll complete our visit to Lake O'Hara.

CR-2010: Truffle Pigs and the Emerald Lake Triangle

Our first stop on leaving the Canmore helipad was Le Chocolatier, an independent maker of gourmet chocolate truffles, chocolate bars, and chocolate novelties. We bought a small box of truffles as a thank-you for Valerie and Bob at Canadian Artisans B&B, who had graciously stored our extra duffels during our sojourn at Talus Lodge. (We would stock up at Le Chocolatier a week later.)

We began our drive to Field, British Columbia, where we would spend the next two nights at the Kicking Horse Lodge and Truffle Pigs Bistro. On the way we stopped at the tourist mecca of Lake Louise, parked in one of the sprawling lots, and I took this classic photo (taken by many others in better light) looking down the lake.

We needed a leg stretch and had the time, so we walked up the trail to Mirror Lake, about 1½ miles each way. As we started out, the canoe livery launched a photo opportunity for the swarms of tourists who stroll short distances along the lakeside.

Closer up,

After our walk it was on to Field. As we checked in, I took a photo of the original Truffle Pigs Café sign from 1999, when it was a small shop across the street.

The bistro displayed this chalkboard above the bar (click to enlarge to legibility):

Joan particularly recommends the soups and desserts at the bistro.

In the morning we set out with a specific plan. In 2004 we had taken one of the guided hikes to the Burgess Shale, a UNESCO World Heritage site. This highly recommended outing involved parking at Takkakaw Falls, in the parallel Yoho Valley, climbing up to Yoho Pass from the east, and then taking the Wapta Highline, with fabulous views of Emerald Lake, to the Walcott Quarry. Return was the way we came. In a later year we parked at Emerald Lake, walked the west and north shores, and climbed to Yoho Pass from the west. Again we returned the way we had come. Having used these routes meant that we still had an fresh, unexplored trail to try, up to Burgess Pass from the east side of Emerald Lake; from there a short stroll to the Quarry spur would add up to the accomplishment of a complete loop around the lake, albeit in sections on three different hikes.

Emerald Lake is a destination that attracts crowds, so we arrived by 9:00 to find a good parking spot. We quickly reached the Burgess Pass trail, which shoots up from the lakeside in a series of switchbacks through the forest. There are no views for a long time. The climb to Burgess Pass from Field is famous for its forty-eight switchbacks, but the trail from Emerald Lake has at least ninety. I counted them. (Depending on whether you count gradual curves as a switchback; I reached ninety-four.) This climb gains 2750' in about three miles. The trail was wet and root-strewn, with lots of dripping vegetation, so we had to keep our rain pants on even though we were soon down to T-shirts otherwise, despite the chilly air. Our boots got rather wet.

Downed timber created occasional nurse logs along the trail. Here is a close look at what was eagerly sprouting on one of them.

Looking up ...

As we climbed higher the air grew colder and eventually, near the top, we reached a snow line.

At this point a small group passed us; we would see them again soon. Hiking in a gloppy mud-snow mix we reached a fork and took the left-hand path. This was not the route to Burgess Pass, but to a small cairn and viewpoint on a shoulder of the ridge. It was worth the brief detour, because it gave us good views, including this one down to Field, the Kicking Horse River, and the Trans-Canada Highway.

Zooming in on the fossil beds across the way, we saw a group approaching the Walcott Quarry. Always carry your binoculars on a hike.

We would encounter several guided groups hiking to the quarry today, which struck us as unusual. The schedule we were acquainted with from 2004 was just one group per day. Now, Parks Canada as well as the Burgess Shale Geoscience Foundation offer trips to the quarry (limited to 12 per group; I think it was a few more than that in 2004). We speculated that there might have been a larger group visiting the quarry which had been split into several 12-person groups, spaced about an hour apart.

The remaining trail to the pass trended downhill. I kept putting my hood up and down as light snow squalls passed through. Just beyond the pass we met the small group that had gone ahead earlier; they had intended to climb to the summit of Mt. Field today, but given the conditions, with Mt. Field wrapped in clouds, they decided instead to finish the Emerald Lake Triangle: they would continue on the Highline trail to Yoho Pass, descend to the lake, and close a long loop when they returned to the Emerald Lake parking area. It's about a 12 mile trek -- different sources will add or subtract half a mile.

We felt the urge to continue at least to the quarry spur, which would complete our collection of new trail. Once there we debated our original plan to return directly down the steep, wet, closed-in trail we had just climbed. Although it meant extending the hike, we decided to keep going and complete the Emerald Lake Triangle ourselves.

From the spur Emerald Lake began to reappear, as did some mid-day sunshine.

Another twenty minutes down the trail conditions had become cheerful, and we declared it lunch time.

This picture shows how the outflow from the Emerald Basin, below Mt. Marpole and Michael Peak, has filled the northern half of the original lake.

With a bird's-eye perspective, it looks like this:

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Looking closely at the outflow, you can see the hiking trail cuts across it like a ruler for about a mile and a half.

After a gradual descent along the Highline to Yoho Pass, and then a steeper descent to the lake, we arrived at the outflow. It was as if we were in a garden that grew bridges, for the spring floods both damage existing wooden footbridges and recarve and reroute the streams that cut across the delta. Half the bridges we encountered this September were high and dry, remnants from previous years, but there was always a bridge where we needed one. It was a very boring mile and a half, flat and gravelly.

On completing the loop we were tired but pleased with our efforts. We could now say that we had done the Emerald Lake Triangle in one day instead of in three parts. Our evening activities were dinner and repacking; we intended to take only two duffels up to Lake O'Hara the next day, and to leave two behind in the trunk of our Mustang. So yet again we repartitioned our belongings, focusing on what we would need or not need at O'Hara, and certainly not taking the previous eight days' worth of dirty laundry up to the lake.

Next I'll report on five nights at Lake O'Hara, the linchpin of our trips to the Canadian Rockies since we started in 2003.