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.