CR2013: Rummel Lake, Rummel Pass, Rain

The next day, August 30th, opened with the morning sun illuminating the clouds and painting bands of pink and gold on the mountains.

Outside our window was a male red crossbill, a bird Joan and I rarely see in Ohio, although it is supposed to winter here.

Today our destination was Rummel Lake, named after Baroness Elizabeth "Lizzie" Rummel. We had visited this lake only once before, in 2004, in an intermittent drizzle.

First we checked out the nearby bridge on the Mount Shark road, looking at flood damage and repairs.

The first stretch of the Rummel Lake trail, which is just opposite the lodge, is boring. Old logging roads wind and switchback through the forest, climbing without offering any vistas. Gradually they narrow and become more of a trail.

Occasionally some deadfall offers a tantalizing but frustrating peek across the valley. You must go further, and then the trail finally becomes an honest walk in the woods.

After about an hour and a half into the hike we heard some noises. A male spruce grouse, in full display, caught up to us on the trail.

He was fearless. Well, I'm not a mind-reader nor a grouse-whisperer, but he acted fearless. Or was it stupid? He came up to us and walked on by, clucking. Look at those eyebrows!

As you might suspect, he was defending and supervising his harem of five or six spruce grouse hens.

We stood transfixed, frequently using our binoculars. The group slowly worked its way through the woods, parallel to the trail, foraging. Eventually we had to tear ourselves away and continue on.

There are two routes for the final approach to the lake, the "snowshoe" route, not scenic but free of avalanche danger, and the summer route (the original). We went up on the summer route, which included some beating through willow thickets and cairn spotting to make our way along one or two rerouted sections of trail. The summer route, in general, hews closely to the creek; to follow it confidently we highly recommend Gillean Daffern's book, Kananaskis Country Trail Guide, Volume 1.

Arriving at Rummel Lake, I walked close to the shore and took its portrait.

To continue on to Rummel Pass follow the trail along the left (north) side of the lake, which eventually cuts into the trees and after a brief climb takes you to the approach to the pass. The trees thin out and then disappear as you keep going.

It being late summer, the tarns had dried out.

This spot was as far as we went. Looking back, you can see why we decided it was time to drop back down.

The peaks on the far side of the valley were disappearing into blue-grey mist. We opened our day packs and pulled out our rain jackets, which were almost ripped from our hands by the strong wind out here in the open.

It didn't start to rain until we reached the lake, where the wind was much gentler. We chose the broad, easier, and quicker "winter" route, accompanied by varying degrees of precipitation. Sometimes there was a steady shower, sometimes it almost stopped, but in the end it rained during the entire long slog back down to the lodge. By the time we finished with the logging road and its unvarying surface our feet were aching.

But we were back in time for afternoon tea and cleanup before dinner. Tomorrow we would move on, so Rummel Pass must wait for another year, when our desire to see the pass overcomes our aversion to the logging road.

CR2013: Challenging Ha Ling

Over the last decade Joan and I had read about the hike to the top of Ha Ling, just outside Canmore, a peak named for a Chinese man who won a bet in 1896 by climbing to the top, planting a flag, and returning, all in about five hours.  We'd never tackled it. Never considered it seriously. It's steep -- you gain 2300 feet (700 m) in 1.6 miles (2.6 km) -- and you reach 7900 feet altitude, which is gasping territory for those of us that spend most of our lives under 1000 feet. Plus, this would be only our second day of hiking. This photo should give you an idea of the challenge; it's adapted (I punched up the contrast and white balance) from Wikimedia Commons under Attribution and Share-Alike licensing; the original is by Kevin Lenz in 2006. Ha Ling is the blunter, left-hand peak.

We decided to give it a go and see how far we got. It would be good training, for both legs and lungs. At 10:00 we were the first car at the parking area, but across the road, something unusual was happening. Equipment, people, trucks, cranes. (This photo was taken on the way back, and other cars had arrived.)

We were puzzled by all the industrial-looking activity. Was the trail up there? We fished out our guidebooks and consulted them, then, with our initial notion confirmed, walked up to the industrial zone. There we were met by a friendly escort person. A movie set was being constructed, and although hikers were allowed through to the trail, we must be accompanied. A fake entrance to the Cheyenne Mountain nuclear bunker was being built! (The real one is in Colorado.)

There is a small plaque at the beginning of the trail.

The trail is briefly a gradual climb,

but then begins a relentless ascent through the trees.

This map link provides an overview of the trail's route. There are portions in this first two-thirds where rockslides have opened up a view through the trees.

The trail grows steeper and the trees sparser until you emerge onto the scree slope. At the point where the trail turns sharply left I took this photo towards the top. Joan and I were thankful that we both had two hiking poles.

Slowly and steadily we continued on. Then we were at the top, and the first ones there! The far side is a sheer drop popular with technical rock climbers. Joan and I sat on the edge and drank in the view; here's a video clip with some wind noise.


This photo zooms in on Cougar Creek in Canmore. The darker grey thread is the normal watercourse; on either side are the gravel, rocks, and boulders that replaced the washed-away creek banks, yards, and decks (click to enlarge). During the June 2013 floods in this area the trans-Canada highway was cut in several places.

Others soon began to arrive at the top. Some were shocked by the drop-off at the edge, but everybody was pleased and grateful to have made it.

Joan and I ate our lunch and then started back down. Looking back, I took this photo, which provides some scale and shows the popularity of a late start in this part of Canada.

We made it back to the car without mishap, and arrived at Mount Engadine Lodge in time for tea. As almost always happens, a moose appeared at the slough around suppertime.

After dinner, which was fabulous as usual, the award-winning Canadian singer-songwriter Cara Luft performed for the guests at the lodge. This was a "Sing for Your Supper" engagement, not a formal "Music in the Meadows" concert.

Her friend Karla Anderson, who also performed on the CD "The Engadine Sessions: Come to the Mountain," joined in for a few songs.

Then it was time to retire and prepare for another day of hiking tomorrow.

CR2013: Mount Yamnuska

Less than three weeks after returning from our Arctic journey, Joan and I embarked on our annual hiking trip to the Canadian Rockies. This was the year of the huge floods in late June, so Joan and I were anticipating lots of changes, especially in the Canmore and Kananaskis areas.

After flying into Calgary, on August 27th, we rented a car and made a beeline for Marv's Classic Soda Shop in the small town of Black Diamond. We savored and consumed chocolate malts, and then drove to the north end of the Kananaskis valley. The southern approach, more natural from Black Diamond, was closed because of flood damage, two months after the deluge. We then drove down Highway 40 to the Barrier Lake Visitor Center, where we bought bear spray and looked at astonishing photos of flood damage in the area, considered a 500-year event. I believe it.

Our first two nights were spent in Canmore at Canadian Artisans Bed and Breakfast. Here our two travel pigs for this trip, Pigtail and Danny, are introduced to the house bear at Canadian Artisans.

The next day we began our hiking with a repeat visit to Mount Yamnuska, officially named Mount Laurie but known by all through the indigenous Stoney name, which means "wall of stone." We had hiked here once before several years ago, but this time we would go further. The trail begins flat but soon has several short ups and downs as it approaches the foot of the mountain.

Then the trail climbs steadily, at first through groves of aspen.

The trail splits into a hiking route and a route for wannabe mountain goats.

Partway up there is an open, grassy zone and a ledge with the first viewpoint of the hike.

We paused to admire the view without sitting down on the rocks. Of course we had our binoculars with us.

Joan and I ate lunch at the same spot we had in our earlier visit. The trees have thinned out and a rocky face provides a viewpoint and places to sit, or at least lean, and enjoy your sandwich.

We had gone no further on our earlier visit. To continue, you must negotiate the slot you see in the right of the above photo. We checked it out and, at first, decided to turn around, but when we saw others coming back down and others going on, we decided we could do it, particularly if I went first and gave Joan a hand with a tall, slick step. Here is somebody coming back down the slot.

Beyond the slot the trail resumes on a scree-covered surface, and after a short distance you have a choice. By climbing left instead of right, you can reach a viewpoint on a ridgeline without climbing all the way to the mountain's top. If you wish to summit, continue to the right instead. On the recommendation of other hikers Joan and I decided to go to the ridge, and although it's less demanding than the summit, the view from this ridge is wonderful in its own right. And after all, this was our first day out!

Here is one overlapping photo taken next to the knife's-edge side of the ridge.

The hill at the left, looking so innocent, was part of our route up. Zooming in you can see several of the switchbacks.

This video provides a better look at the whole scene.



The wind up here must be fierce, as evidenced by this hardy tree. Today's weather is benign.

Then it was time to go back the way we came, or so we thought. We walked along the ridge for a while, thus not going back the way we came. Then it was time to descend, and there were multiple unofficial tracks to choose among. We worked our way down, and down, and then Joan realized that we were further downhill than the slot. Fortunately it was a only short climb back up to the wide trail, and very soon the other side of the slot appeared.

On the far side of the slot we caught up with a foursome of twenty-somethings. We fell in behind them, and somehow our brains went dormant. The four hikers in the lead took a very steep turn to the right, which, had we been thinking, we knew was much too soon, that we had a way yet to walk through the trees before we would reach the switchbacks in the zoom-in photo.

But we followed them. The route got steeper and became apparent that this was not a trail, but a plunge down an erosion course. Should we try to go back up and regain the trail? I thought not, that it would be too difficult and time-consuming. Strike two.

Our descent was composed of small steps, dislodging dirt and small stones, grabbing at slender trees, and would have been almost impossible, unless sitting down, without our two hiking poles. As it was we had to pause several times to rest our legs, gather our wits and bolster our morale, and plot the next leg of the route. The four in front of us were, every so often, breaking into two groups of two and then converging again. Eventually we lost sight of them.

Finally we reached a gentler slope and vegetation, and then a trail. Not the trail we had come up, but a genuine trail was welcome. At one point we passed an old stone ring that had in living memory contained a fire. The trail began to work up and down and around small bumps and dips in the land.

Two or three times we passed what I'll call "squirrel middens." Squirrels sit at or above these favored spots and strip pine cones (I use the term "pine" in a generic sense, for conifers) with their incisors before gobbling the seeds within. This midden is several feet across, and near the top there is a hoard of cones (click to enlarge).

We finally, and with great relief, rejoined the main trail. My thought was that we should turn right, but another pair of hikers was approaching, so I asked which way to return to the parking area. They must have questioned my sobriety, but confirmed that right was correct.

Lesson #1: Remember where you've already been.

Lesson #2: Don't blindly follow others, but think.

Lesson #3: Don't be afraid to turn back and regain the path.

P.S. The foursome made it safely to the parking area too.

Arctic Journey: Iqaluit, Ottawa, and Home

After three weeks and a few days aboard the Explorer, beginning in Reykjavík, it was time to leave. The ship had anchored well off from Iqaluit, the capital of the Canadian province of Nunavut; from Google Earth you can see that the bottom shelves and narrows rapidly.

My adrenaline level zoomed when I saw our luggage zooming for shore at full speed, piled high on zodiacs. Fortunately the weather was benign today, and everything and everyone made it to dry land.

We had some time in Iqaluit before our charter flight to Ottawa. The Unikkaarvik Visitor has many displays of Arctic life and artifacts; this polar bear is in a diorama.

These walrus carvings are made of whalebone.

A walrus.

The dancing polar bear sports this explanatory legend.

The bear himself was difficult to photograph because of the multiple reflections bouncing around his display box. But I had to include this anyway.

And I love seeing the world-view encapsulated in this Inuit seasonal calendar (click to enlarge).

The raven came first.

Joan and I then visited the Nunatta Sunakkutaangit Museum next door, but we were running out of time. Joan purchased a pair of earrings, beluga whales carved out of musk ox horn, at the museum gift shop.

The bus was preparing to leave for the airport, so we were fortunate that the attendant allowed us to throw cash on the counter and run.

At the airport the guests identified their luggage outside the bus, and made certain that all their luggage was there. Then it was time to amuse ourselves in the small airport, waiting for the charter flight of arriving guests to land, and be serviced and refueled before we could board for Ottawa. We would fly over the entire length of Quebec from north to south:

Ottawa, whose location was vague to us before this trip, straddles on the border between Ontario and Quebec.

Our plane taxied to the charter corner of the Ottawa airport, where we boarded buses to take us to our hotel, the Fairmont Chateau Laurier. This elegant limestone structure, opened in 1912, is located in the center of downtown, close to the National Gallery, riverside paths, the Canadian History Museum, the Library of Parliament, and the Parliament Building. After dinner, Joan and I took an extended stroll exploring a section of the riverfront, past the Peace Monument and around the Parliament. A crowd was gathering for a light-and-sound show to be projected onto the front of Parliament, but it wasn't going to start until later, and Joan and I needed to be up early the next day for our flight to Toronto and then home. We were impressed by Ottawa, even though we saw very little of it, and decided it would be a worthwhile destination in the future.

In the morning the bus to take the early round of guests to the airport became lost on its way to the hotel, but we were bundled into taxis and made it to the airport in good time. The transfer in Toronto to our Columbus flight was interesting; the Ottawa-Toronto leg was a domestic Canadian flight, so we passed through U.S. customs, passport control, and security in Toronto. The luggage transfer was absolutely painless: picking up and then dropping off the luggage again wasn't necessary. There was a large waiting hall in front of the U.S. security lines, with large monitors. You simply waited for your name to appear on the monitor, and when it did you did you were free to enter the line. We never had to touch our luggage in Toronto. Wonderful!

We arrived back in Columbus on time, after three and a half weeks of exploration. The Arctic Journey had been stunning in its beauty, full of history, and packed with wildlife. Now being back home was wonderful too.