The view from our cabin the next morning (September 11) was exhilarating. Time for breakfast and a hike!
Joan and I decided to head for Lake McArthur via the Big Larches trail.
After walking past a few intersections in the woods we reached the foot of a large talus slope eroded from Mount Schaffer.
Climbing higher we saw Lakes O'Hara and Mary emerge from behind the trees.
Following a muscle-warming climb the trail leveled off and entered woods again. We met Jess, the head chef at Lake O'Hara Lodge, as she was coming down the trail towards us. We told her how much we appreciated and admired the kitchen at O'Hara, and she credited the spirit of teamwork there. It was the right time of day to capture the setting moon.
At the end of Big Larches we skirted Schaffer Lake, and kept to the left at the next several intersections.
Moseying through the meadow next to the lake, in the sun, looking for birds and mountain goats. Keep those binoculars handy!
Joan and I were passed by a young woman who asked if that lake was Schaffer, and was pleased that she had reached it "already" -- she had walked up from the parking area, 11 km from Lake O'Hara! She did not tarry long for fear of losing her energy level. This photo was taken near the crest of the climb up to further intersections.
Shortly thereafter the Low-Level Circuit to McArthur split off, and we continued on the McArthur High-Level Circuit. Along the circuit we met Don Gardner, who was shifting and tossing rocks. Who was this? Little did we know. Don, age 71, is a legendary cross-country skier. He first met the master trail builder Lawrence Grassi at age 11. He worked for several years in Greenland as a guide for mining company exploration, and then many years in the Arctic with the Inuit. He was now advising on trail maintenance in return for a ride up from the parking area and a meal. In addition to removing and adjusting rocks, he was noting items, taking videos on his phone for later discussion. He loves to move rocks, which brings out his inner little boy, and showed us some of the techniques he employs to subtly guide hikers to use a preferred foot placement. He recognizes the styles of different trail builders, such as Grassi, and including the absolutely smooth trails put in during the early days, probably by labor gangs from the CPR (Canadian Pacific Railway). This was an encounter we won't soon forget.
Lake McArthur. The combination of sun angle and the camera's stitching of multiple photos for the panorama created a trail of sun ghosts in the upper center of the image!
We found a congenial spot for lunch, and when we were down to the cookies Janette, whom we'd met on arrival day, joined us and we extended the social hour.
The water had receded this September.
Here's a comparison of water levels from various years.
From the lakeshore Joan and I headed along the Low-Level Circuit for our return.
It starts from Lake McArthur as a shallow valley that gradually grows deeper,
and then plunges before requiring a climb back up to the High-Level Circuit. Along the way we spotted another pika, well camouflaged against the rocks and turf.
Pikas move in bursts.
On our way back Joan and I stopped to check out the kiosk at the head of the Odaray Highline trail, which crosses to the other side of the valley and up to Odaray Grandview.
The valley is a wildlife corridor, and there are voluntary guidelines limiting the number of parties crossing it, depending on the season, posted at the kiosk. We inspected the log book, and two things stood out:
people were ignoring the voluntary guidelines; there were too many parties today.
people had not waited to see if other hikers were coming up, with whom they could combine to form just one party. Joan and I have benefited in the past from folks who waited ten or twenty minutes before pressing on, and we've returned the favor.
It remains to be seen how or if Parks Canada will react to these self-documented breaches. Those who break the rules make it more difficult for those who observe them. We continued our return via Big Larches -- the alternative trail isn't nearly as interesting -- pleased with our progress in adjusting to the altitude and in toughening up.
September 9th was a transition day. Joan and I left Canmore headed for Cathedral Mountain Lodge (CML), at the foot of Kicking Horse Pass, where we'd spend the night before going up to the Lake O'Hara parking area for the morning bus. The air was still smoky, but not as bad as the day before. Rain began to spit and mist as we approached Lake Louise, and then began to sprinkle as we headed north on the Icefields Parkway, but we still expected to hike at Bow Lake. Unfortunately it began to rain in earnest shortly before we arrived. We waited, reading local newspapers in the car, but it continued to pour. We drove north to Waterfowl Lake and ate lunch in the car.
We also saw a couple emerge from the lake. Intrepid swimmers, eh? It continued to rain. We drove back down to the Trans Canada Highway, then through the work on the "twinning," or expansion from two lanes to four, divided, of the Trans Canada through Kicking Horse Pass. How they will get two more lanes carved into those mountain slopes strains the imagination. Joan and I continued on to the town of Field, just past the CML turn, and browsed in the Visitor's Centre. We checked in at CML at 3:00; during the afternoon and evening there were several waves of rain. Of course, the rain was a blessing in many ways, clearing the smoke from the air and dousing the wildfires. The temperature was dropping. The next morning was cloudy but with a hope-inducing forecast and glimpses of blue sky. We drove back up Kicking Horse Pass to the Lake O'Hara turnoff, and joined the folks waiting for a morning bus; there's a Parks Canada bus, which gets booked way in advance, and the Lodge bus. Lorraine, the Parks Canada greeter at the bus stop, was enthusiastic and informative. Joan and I were surprised at how many people were choosing to walk the 11 kilometers / 7 miles uphill on a fire road to Lake O'Hara, the only option if you don't have a place on a bus. (No bikes, no private vehicles.) Lorraine said that nonetheless there were so many walk-ins this year that Parks Canada was debating the need for further restrictions to protect the fragile alpine environment of O'Hara from an excess of visitors. We learned that Lake O'Hara had made the "must see" list of some Asian publications, and many of the walk-ins were Japanese or Chinese. I'm sure not all of them made it, especially those with wheeled luggage instead of backpacks! After learning our assigned cabin (available after 1pm) and picking up our packed lunches, Joan and I set out for Lake Oesa. It was cold at first as we traveled at a moderate pace, on the lookout for birds, marmots, or pikas. We did encounter a flock of golden-crowned kinglets. The lower reaches of the trail still harbored signs of last spring's avalanches. One tree across the O'Hara lakeside trail was there today, but gone thereafter. Higher up the slopes, the downed timber remained, silent snow witnesses.
The Oesa route also passes through rock fields; here's a look back the way we'd come so far.
The larches were beginning to turn. They're monochromatic compared to a mixed deciduous forest in the fall, but they're a bright splash of color in the mountains.
Especially pretty contrasted with the turquoise ponds.
Joan and I were excited to spot a male mountain goat on our first day in the high country. Lorraine, the Parks greeter, hadn't seen one yet this year. I needed to zoom and crop to turn him into anything other than a white dot, and that's we always take our binoculars.
Closer to us was this squirrel.
As we approached Lake Oesa the weather continued to improve.
The lake was not nearly as crowded as I expected. It's always a fabulous place to lunch, and today we had our choice of the best sitting rocks. We decided to return via the start of the Yukness Ledges alpine route and then take the Victoria Lake cutoff back to the Oesa trail.
Looking back at Lefroy and Oesa from the Yukness Ledges.
This couple was absorbing the view from just off the Oesa trail, as it starts a major descent alongside the water.
Looking back at that spot, quite a perch, from below.
The Opabin Plateau was also illuminated with a crown of larches, here as seen from the Oesa trail.
Joan and I were becoming fatigued on the way back, but we still had to unpack and clean up. After a great dinner (they always are at the Lake O'Hara Lodge) we slept hard. The weather forecast for tomorrow was promising. Tomorrow ...
September 9th began with another chat with Val, Bob, and the Dutch couple also staying at Canadian Artisans. Joan and I picked up further lunch fixings on top of items (cheeses, cookies) Val had left for us and drove out to the Grotto Canyon trail head, arriving at 10:30. We had visited the canyon once before, prior to the 2013 floods. The signs at the start. Today, all the dogs we saw were not on a leash. At least we weren't buzzed by a drone.
The first stretch of the trail passes just north of a BayMag MgO (magnesium oxide) plant.
Even before reaching the mouth of Grotto Canyon we passed a small wash that bore the scars of the floods.
And then a larger wash, but still not the big show.
Today was even smokier than yesterday. The wildfires, although not approaching Canmore, weren't that far away as the raven flies.
Joan and I reached a bench that overlooked the main outflow.
We scrambled down a boot-beaten path into the gravel meadow, and after heading uphill a short distance, I took this picture looking back.
Where the flood plain narrowed into the constricted canyon Joan and I were forced to clamber over a boulder. Then we saw the rock-filled creek bed, with no water in sight. It created a broad road here in the lower reaches.
The canyon quickly narrowed.
The walk to the waterfall was uneventful. Here are two photos of it from 2011:
Water was flowing today as well, even in the dry weather, so it's likely spring fed. Joan and I continued to the left, away from the waterfall,
and met a great surprise. A rock garden had sprouted after the flood! (Click on the image to enlarge.)
The fad of creating balancing rocks
and fanciful shapes, such as this rock person,
had caught on here.
The canyon doglegged to the right, and yet more rock assemblies presented themselves.
We passed a family busy adding more, one per person.
Joan and I continued up, and beyond the rock garden there were few other people around. We passed this tree island. It's a non-lithic hoodoo, and who knows how much longer it will survive?
Grotto Canyon offers more challenging, or at least taller, rock climbing than Heart Creek.
Past the climbing wall the proportion of large boulders steadily increased -- the heaviest objects will fall out of a flood first. Joan and I would stop now and then to choose our route, around or on top of them. Now there were no other hikers. We encountered our first pika of the trip. Yay!
The canyon goes as far as you care to take it.
We stopped for lunch, and saw our second pika.
And a moth visited us.
It was time to head back. All three rock climbers were on the cliff face now. Soon after passing them we met a couple from Mexico City. It was the husband's birthday, and he was having a great time. His wife was ready to turn around, even if it was his birthday, but we mentioned the climbers ahead, and she agreed to go that far. They had come to Canada in part to get away from Mexico City's awful air pollution, but today offered no change! We saw the other side of the rock garden on the return.
After we passed the waterfall a raven flew overhead, close enough for us to hear the whooshing of its wing beats. Then, paying attention to the directions from Gillean Daffern's guidebook, we finally saw the ochre pictographs on the canyon wall for the first time in either this or the 2011 trip. They are easy to overlook if you're not searching for them.
These pictographs -- symbols painted onto rock rather than carved into it -- are estimated to be 500 to 1,300 years old, so it's amazing that they have survived at all, especially because they are within reach of hikers. The presence of a Kokopelli, a flutist human figure, indicates a Hopi origin, confirming the story in The Book of Hopi of a clan that journeyed north to a land of ice and rock. The fronds on the head make me think this image may be the Kokopelli.
A line of figures.
A closeup of the largest/best-preserved figure.
Bison.
An alternative proposal was that the local Stoney Indians visited the Hopi and brought the Kokopelli idea back with them. This picture taken further down shows a log jam created by the flood.
Joan and I arrived back at the car well satisfied with all that we had seen. Given the flood, we hadn't expected much, and today was a good increment of effort over yesterday. On the way back to town we bought three chocolate bars at Le Chocolatier, a mandatory stop, for use in later days.
