Smoke and Snow: Baldy Pass

Joan and I checked out of Cathedral Mountain Lodge and drove a short distance to the Siding Café, in Field, to pick up lunch supplies. They have great sandwiches and baked goods, but we discovered that after Labor Day the Siding doesn't open until 11. Oops.

At the Visitor's Center in Field Joan bought a couple of books, we picked up two Le Chocolatier bars, and we had a long chat with a warden from New Zealand about trail closures due to bear activity at Moraine Lake and Paradise Valley, the uses and misuses of GPS, and what constitutes an emergency-demanding rescue. Then it was off to Kananaskis Country.

Just east of Canmore and off the Trans-Canada there was a trail head and Mount Lougheed viewpoint which we'd never visited before. The mountain in the center is Lougheed.

We're looking almost due south from the end of the road, from the top of this map to the bottom:

Here's a zoom-in on the mountain, which tops out at 10,194 feet.

Signs described the history of the area and the role Sir James Lougheed played in therein.

We then drove to Highway 40 and the parking area for Baldy Pass, another hike that we've done once before but not since the 2013 floods. By satellite view, the route was thus,

and by map, like this.

The trail began on the far side of the highway, and after crossing, Joan and I were winding gently through woods.

The trail from the Wasootch Creek parking area joined us, and we approached Indian Creek.

 Almost there, and more stones were in the path.

Now the trail followed the rubble-filled creek. Sometimes we scrambled through the rocks following cairns, and sometimes the path had shifted to a stream bank.

As you can see, we had a lot of altitude still to gain.

In this stretch we met a guy (age 55) and his wife from Calgary ex Edmonton ex Ottawa. He was fresh off an unexpected heart attack and monitoring his heart rate as he hiked. Not long before the heart attack his doctor had said he was in great shape, and didn't need another physical for three years, but some measure (I forget which) had been 4.9 where 5.0 suggests intervention. Fortunately he survived this oversight and has been recovering well.

The trail continued to ascend. Watersheds on either side of the valley had violently contributed to the destruction lower down.

The route left the valley floor and metamorphosed into a rooty trail climbing steeply through the trees on the south flank of the valley. It was much shadier than the rock river we'd left behind, and the higher Joan and I went, the more common it was to cross snowy patches. We enjoyed occasional views of the ridgeline north of us.

The winds were blustery when we reached the cairn at the pass.

Here we met a couple with a white dog. They had planned their hike ahead of time, but somehow she needed to ask us, "what's the name of that mountain?" There's a place in the world for good paper maps, such as the Gem Trek series, and classic guide books, such as Gillean Daffern's.

Joan and I turned to the south and continued with a short climb, to the point where the trail leveled off and began to dip down into the next valley. There we sat down and lunched. This was the view back past the pass towards the north.

Descending down to the pass.

There is an unofficial trail beaten along the ridge rising to the north, and many hikers take advantage of it. We spotted the white dog couple there with our binoculars more than once.

I'm sure the view from anywhere along the top is grand.

Perhaps, if we revisit Baldy Pass in another few years, we'll give it a go.

Back in the woods, not far from the road, Joan and I spotted a trail camera we'd overlooked on the way out. From the University of Calgary.

A short drive later we checked in at the Delta Lodge Kananaskis, recently purchased by Marriott, extensively renovated, and reopened two months ago. There were oddities in the reorganized rooms, such as, no towel racks, and a common bathroom/closet door -- open it to the bathroom and you've closed the closet, and vice-versa. The staff was friendly and empowered to fix less structural problems, such as a sock left on the floor by a previous guest. The larger restaurant, the Fireweed Grill, was now dubbed the Forte, and its omnipresent mood music was classic 1960s pop ("One Fine Day") instead of disco, an improvement.

Joan and I ate well but spent a fitful night before rising for the next day's hike at Upper Kananaskis Lake.