On the 15th Day of Hiking (Galatea Lakes)

The Galatea Lakes were one of our "goal" hikes this year. Joan and I had explored the lowest reaches of the trail last year, but that barely scratched the surface. We had a quick breakfast at the Market Café in the lodge and purchased sandwiches, cookies, and chocolate from Le Chocolatier for lunch and trail snacks.

The forecast called for showers by 3pm, but Mount Kidd glowed at the Galatea Trail parking area.

We're the only ones, shortly before 9:00

After a quick descent to the Kananaskis River the first and largest bridge of the journey appeared.

Soon there was another bridge, surrounded by the rubble from the 2013 flood.

On the far side, a trail map.

The sign says Lillian Lake, 5.5km / 3.4 miles, Galatea Lakes 6.6 km / 4.1 miles. Another source puts the Lillian Lake round trip at 14.3 km -- YMMV. The altitude gain estimates range up to 2850 feet (870 m) to Galatea so the distance feels greater.

The trail ascends the creek valley, sometimes with switchbacks, sometimes almost level. We passed at least one trailcam.

One of the many bridges in the first third of the trail. (The 2017 blog entry contains many more photos of this stretch.)

This image looks back to our origin, early in the hike. About this time the trail crossed a rocky avalanche path; there we were passed by four men, two young men that sounded Canadian and two older Asian men.

Periodically we stopped to take in the scale of the flood damage, immense even five years later.

As we continued to climb Joan and I passed above several slot canyons with narrow waterfalls. Steep, sketchy side trails led down to some of these and might have offered a better view, but we decided not to take the risk.

One oddity was plastic bags of dog poop abandoned by the side of the trail. Hey, if it's in a plastic bag, why not carry it out?

The bridges became more modest as we went up and up. Lingering snow appeared.

Smaller bridges for the narrowing stream.

What Joan saw:

Not going off-trail here!

Prior to the 2013 floods the Guinn's Pass trail departed from the Galatea Lake trail a couple of kilometers before Lillian Lake. It was a brutally steep climb, and prone to erosion. That route has now been moved, but I failed to photograph the closure sign for the old trail. In effect, the direct climb up was replaced with a huge switchback: proceed past Lillian Lake to not far from Galatea Lake, and there's the new Guinn's Pass trail.

We had seen Guinn's pass from Buller Pass two days ago.

Joan and I crossed a two-log, no-railing footbridge and reached Lillian Lake. We continued to the far side, next to the campground, where we sat on a bench and split half a chocolate bar.

The four hikers that had passed us earlier were a bit further along the shoreline, as seen above. We could hear one of them say, "So, Mr. Lee, do you have any children?" Aha. The two Canadian guys were acting as guides for visitors.

As Joan and I prepared to leave a loud buzzing noise burst the quiet, a sound of angry hornets. They were flying a drone! Which is illegal inside a national or provincial park without a permit, and we were suspicious that these men did not have one, but were taking advantage of a weekday in the off season.

We climbed through a series of switchbacks rising behind Lillian Lake until the trail emerged into a rocky zone,

Looking back at Lillian.

where it more or less went straight up. We followed a series of cairns through the scree, and discovered that the first bench wasn't the summit. We paused here to grab a quick lunch -- half a sandwich and a big cookie -- and pressed on.

It wasn't long before we reached the Guinn's Pass intersection.

This sign is puzzling. It looks like it's been played with, and now makes no sense. Only 0.4km to the Ribbon Lake Campground? No way. Even as the crow flies it's a good 2.25 km to the campground! (Click on the image below to enlarge.)

And much further than that by trail!

Up here amidst the rocks we encountered two pikas. True to form, they made several warning eeep! calls.

Cute little critters, full of hustle.

Joan and I went a bit further to get a good look at Lower Galatea Lake.

The upper lake is beyond the rise at the far end.

There were clouds rising from the valley and occasional snow flurries. We decided there wasn't time, nor was it good weather, to press on to the upper lake. Soon after we began our return Joan took a photo of me, a rarity in this blog.

As we headed back down to Lillian the air warmed; the snow flurries intensified and mixed with drizzle.

At the lake we took advantage of a fabulous new biffy at the campground.

A solar powered composting toilet, with a triumphal arch, scalloped edges to the walkway, translucent roof, and best of all, separate ladies and gents rooms!

The pig and frog accompanying us on this hike went into our packs as we dressed for wet weather, which it was all the way down. Here's a photo of our hiking companions from earlier in the trip:

Dart, on the left, and Kristinn

Not so far below the lake we encountered fifteen young men and women headed to Lillian Lake to begin several days of back country camping. In the manner of youth they were carrying heavy loads, no two of which were the same, many with items exposed to the weather. They were full of enthusiasm but weary of the uphill slog, so we were happy to tell them "it's not far."

The rain intensified. Although downhill is faster than uphill, it seemed much longer. We passed two more backpackers headed to the lake. Then, at the end of one of the lower bridges, Ben slipped on the last step. His rain pants and pack cover were muddied, but no damage was done.

Back at the hotel we draped outerwear and accessories everywhere to dry; fortunately even in wet weather things indoors (and warm) dry rapidly.

Tomorrow, new road as well as new trail. What will the weather bring?

On the 14th Day of Hiking (Upper Kananaskis Lake)

From Mt. Engadine Lodge Joan and I drove towards Upper Kananaskis Lake, to fill in the gaps in our hiking around the lake. As we progressed the day looked better and better. We arrived at the Day Use Area at 11:00. This was a late start, but then it was a transition (moving from one accommodation to another) day.

In this map the purple and red paths are our two 2017 hikes. The yellow path marks this day's hike, which began too late to link up with the red dots. That far edge makes a long hike ... 16.2 km or 10.1 miles to circumnavigate the lake. (Click on the image to enlarge.)

It was a pleasant day with luscious scenery.

This area had suffered heavily in the 2013 floods.

A new bridge crossed the outflow of Sarrail Creek.

Another view of the waterfall.

Shortly afterwards the trail to Rawson Lake split off.

Joan and I visited Rawson Lake many years ago, and this would be worth doing again, but not today.

We heard the call of a loon or two, and watched a fleet of ducks cross the lake. It's always good to bring your binoculars along.

Joan paused to admire how the roots of this brave tree flowed over the rocks.

There has to be sustenance in there somewhere.

In spots the debris left by the floods was still visible.

Vegetation is just starting to return.

A gorgeous view from near the far end of the lake.

We weren't entirely alone. One young couple toting backpacks passed us, stopped and entered into discussion, shuffling a map, and then returned the way they had come.

Joan and I began a climb that marked about 2½ km left to close our gap with last year's hikes. Realizing we didn't have enough time to cover all the untrodden trail and return to the car, we continued only as far as to find a lunch spot.

As we finished lunch a lady from Saskatchewan, now living in Alberta for a year and a half, came by. She was taking a counter-clockwise loop around the lake for training purposes, but not in a hurry, and we had a good chat. Then two women came by the other way -- this trail was getting busy!

We started back. With the altered perspective, Joan pointed out where the trail to Hidden Lake departed. Tromp, tromp, tromp we went on. We noticed a chipmunk harvesting cones in the treetops.

 Two young women told us of a "prairie chicken" they had passed on the trail, and a while later, we encountered the female spruce grouse they had seen. It was skittish but I still got a decent photo.

Who are you?

We passed a group of older hikers who came down from Rawson Lake just as we reached that junction. Then, to the car, and on our drive out of Kananaskis Lakes we saw a young moose in a mud wallow near the road, so we were not mooseless in 2018.

There was new pavement on Highway 40 as we drove north to Kananaskis Mountain Lodge, and a 14 km construction zone with off-and-on one-way traffic. Joan and I still arrived in good time to check in.

Tomorrow's goal: Galatea Lake.

On the 13th Day of Hiking (Buller Pass)

Joan and I awakened on Sept. 18th to an unknown object blazing in the sky, illuminating mountains and casting shadows.

It must be the sun!

After many days of snow, what a sight. But, excuse me, breakfast beckons here at Mount Engadine Lodge.

There are rumors of possible afternoon precipitation, which wouldn't surprise us, but we're not going to be deterred. Today we're heading for Buller Pass, which we last hiked six years ago. After scraping ice off the car's windshield we drove up to the Buller Day Use Area and parked at the red circle on the left. (Click on the image to enlarge.)

There we met "Okotoks," a man nicknamed after the town in Alberta. He was assembling his gear and waiting for his meet-up group to assemble, and very friendly. Joan and I advised him that although we were setting off first, he and his group were bound to pass us at some point.

We crossed the road and hit the intersection of the Buller Pass and High Rockies trails.

Soon after the signposts we worked up the first climb, which led to one of the areas hit by the prescribed burn in 2011.

For a while we were gently ascending the valley of Buller Creek.

Then a refreshing stretch of greener forest.

Beyond the forest and a creek crossing was another major uphill. At one point I took this photo looking back the way we'd come.

Getting higher, but there's still a long way to go.

Eventually we were rewarded with this waterfall and pool.

The path splits soon thereafter, going to either side of the mountain in the photo. To the left, a less-traveled route to North Buller Pass, and to the right, a well-used trail to South Buller Pass, our destination. One tongue of the burn took that trail.

Joan and I heard a pika and kinglets, and saw a pair of Clark's nutcrackers. We also spotted fireweed, aster, dwarf dogwood, cinquefoil, pearly everlasting, and other such plants.

The trees shrank and petered out. The resultant meadow was pockmarked with bear diggings, where they had been uprooting tasty tubers. Not so long ago.

In the distance, the low point is the pass.

We went a bit further and then decided to have first lunch before tackling the steep and narrow final climb. The meet-up gang caught up to us and paused just beyond our sit-spot. We set out towards the pass, getting in front of the group again, and trudged up to the snow zone.

I paused when I encountered a high drift across the trail. I'd never experienced this kind of hiking obstacle before, where I had no idea what direction the trail headed once I entered the drift. Fortunately someone had been there already today, so I followed in those footsteps. This photo was taken on the way back down, after many people had come across.

The stronger hikers in the meet-up group reached us, and finally we all reached the pass. This photo is looking east, down to Ribbon Lake. The low spot to the right of the ramparts guarding the lake is Guinn's Pass. 

More of the meet-up group arrived,

and we all lingered for a while, admiring the sights.

Zooming in on Ribbon Lake. You can hike there from the other side, Highway 40, but it's a strenuous hike that includes a cliff face with chains.

This was the view looking back the way we'd come. You can tell we've gained 670m / 2200 ft.

Getting cloudy, but no precipitation today.

Joan and I gingerly descended the steep pass, and stopped for second lunch not far from where we'd consumed first lunch. The meet-up group re-formed and passed by; we'd not see them again.

We continued down the valley.

It was a quicker march down than up, but the round trip took us seven hours. Although tired Joan and I were pleased at our success, at the weather holding, and at all that we had seen. And we cleaned our plates at dinner! Unfortunately there were again no moose; rumor was that the construction clamor kept them away.

That evening the downstairs gathering was still noisy at 10:00, so I put on my bathrobe and put in an appearance, explaining that they were right below us. One guy (staff?) said, "Don't worry, we'll take care of it." I mentioned that I understood that the proceedings were supposed to move to the next room by this time, and he repeated, "Don't worry, we'll take care of it." It soon became clear that no one had budged from in front of the fire, and the noise level diminished only to 9 from a 10. But at least they broke up earlier than last night.

Joan mentioned the failure to observe the quiet hour when checking out the next morning, and the manager seemed surprised. He also did not make any mention of a gratuity for the staff, which we overhead him making to other guests. (Side note: based on our experience in other places and times, the glamping tents could prove to be particularly noisy if you have rowdy neighbors.) We won't book the Owl Room again. In fact, when we decided to shorten our 2019 visit by a couple of days, what we omitted in our planning was Mt. Engadine. Joan and I will try this wonderful lodge again, but not next year.

We loaded our stuff into Corey, our rental Corolla, eased past the glamping construction, and headed for Upper Kananasksis Lake. That's for the next post.