Canada 2024: Let's try that again

On Sunday, July 7, 2024, Joan and I drove to the Lougheed Parking area to tackle the Centennial Ridge trail again. Two years ago our goal had been to climb above the treeline for the spectacular views, but our effort had been cut short by rain. Now we'd try again. Although we arrived at this parking area 15 minutes earlier than for yesterday's Heart Creek hike, it was jammed, and we had to park on the side of the road leading to the parking. Well, it was a Sunday.

No place to park here ...

There are several intersections in the beginning, including those for West Wind Pass and Skogan Pass, but we followed the signs for the Centennial Trail. (Click on any image to enlarge.) The green circles note the parking area and our "decision point" on the trek.

Here's a photo of the map at the beginning of the trail. With less clutter, the circles are easier to see.

As with yesterday's hike, we soon encountered flowers. This year had seen a late spring, so July was still bountiful. Today had more varieties than yesterday because of the much greater altitude gain. Here is a red baneberry, early in its season.

For a while the path led us gently up a wide trail beside the creek that, like so many others, had flooded disastrously in 2018.

We spotted a female bufflehead duck and her two ducklings working upstream.

There's a stretch where it's just an easy walk.

It won't last long.

More flowers ... here, a blue clematis.

The uphill slog began, still on a wide horse-riding route from the past. The terrain became dryer. A few faster hikers passed us. Then, there was a peek-a-boo view across the valley towards West Wind.

Here's a red elderberry, but we're too early for the berries!

Now we peeked at the ridgeline south of Mount Pigeon.

Click on the image above, and at the left of the ridgeline, you'll see a small structure. This photo from Google Maps gives me confidence in my ID.

On we climbed, with frequent stops to catch our breath. Continued effort gave us a peek at the Bow Valley and Canmore.

And close to the ground, an Alpine forget-me-not.

Joan and I passed the spot where we'd been forced to turn around two years ago, and kept going as the old road turned into a hiking path, which narrowed as we went. Then we hit a meadow beside a seasonal creek gully.

The gully was dry.

An interesting closeup.

From here we received our best view of the day.

The path then dove into the woods again. We continued for more minutes, perturbed that we had never gained the open ground promised by the map.

That's a 2200 meter altitude line, or 7218 feet.

And now it showed us dropping down three or so contour lines before regaining the lost height, and didn't promise open ground for a while yet. The afternoon was ticking on. Joan and I agreed that it was time to turn around. We did spot more flowers on the way down, including this "Pretty Shooting Star."

 

And a calypso orchid!

Downhill had its own challenges with steepness, surfaces, and fatigue, but we returned without mishap. Thank goodness for hiking poles! Joan and I reached our car a tick before 4:00 pm, footsore but satisfied with our effort, given that we gained ~2350 feet in altitude and it was only our second day of hiking. And the flora was fabulous.

 

A final odd note before we left was that I had to push forward as well as down on the Versa's trunk lid for it to latch.

Canada 2024: A Busy Start

On July 5th, 2024, Joan and I began our trip to the Canadian Rockies with an early United flight (6:45am). Our connection to Calgary out of Houston United was delayed because, after we'd boarded, the crew discovered that this international flight was the plane's first flight of the day, and a security sweep was required, forcing us all to de-board, wait, and reboard. Still, this was much better than the previous year, when United canceled our booked flight after everyone boarded and got us there a day late.

 

A group of twenty or so from Houston were flying to Calgary to observe and study that city's famous "Calgary Stampede," a multi-day collection of events including rodeos, concerts, etc. They were having a jolly time, although one woman had the flight crew scurrying to find her fancy cowgirl hat -- in the back of a bin above her seat. The front of the plane was entertained, that's for sure.

 

We had to put our foot down at the Enterprise car rental, for they kept offering us an SUV, and we kept insisting that we wanted a car with a trunk. Why? Several times we would be taking a day hike while traveling from one lodge to the next. We did not want our luggage to be visible to anyone in the parking area looking for a profitable vehicle to break into. Finally they found a Nissan Versa, although the car hadn't been washed yet. We took it. Heading west on the Trans-Canada, we stopped at the Kananaskis Visitor's Center to purchase bear spray and a two-day "Conservation Pass," required to park in Kananaskis and the Bow Valley, before reaching our hotel in Canmore. It had been a very long day and we collapsed into bed after dinner.

 

The next morning, July 6th -- a Saturday -- Joan and I drove a short distance east to the parking area for the Heart Creek Trail, arriving at 9:45, which is not bad for a first day. (Click on any image to enlarge.)

The trail meandered to the northeast for a short while. Taking advantage of a sunny Saturday, families, family groups, and their dogs were out in force. On this stretch flowers were also plentiful, including these longtube twinflowers.

The trail bent 90° and began to wander up the gorge that Heart Creek has cut between Heart Mountain and Mount McGillivray. The 2013 floods scoured this narrow valley.

The trail has been reconstructed but wanders from side to side as the new topography allows. The sheer faces have always been popular for wall climbing.

We continued upstream. I took this photo twenty minutes before reaching the end of the trail.

We reached the choke point of the 2013 flood.

The rock wall and its narrow channel.

Joan inspects.

As I mentioned, family groups were out in force today; this destination, with its pools of water and rocks for sitting, was where they clustered.

On our way back I took this photo of a young lady practicing her "free climbing" -- a friend stands by belaying a rope for protection, but the climber (halfway up) ascends using only natural rock holds.

Joan and I finished the return to the parking area. We continued to the west, towards the Heart Creek Vault, a tunnel carved into Mt. McGillivray's limestone, intended (at first) to store essential documents against nuclear attack. Along this stretch we encountered wood lilies,

yellow salsify,

and a foraging least chipmunk.

Closer to the vault, this web of roots caught my eye.

The bright day was growing hot. Finally, we reached the entrance to the vault.

It's pitch black inside. Joan's headlamp was bright, but mine, an older model (and perhaps with a weaker battery?), was barely adequate for me to shuffle forward carefully. I neglected to take any photos (my camera does have a flash!), but there are images in this blog post from 2018. We snacked in a shady grove nearby, wandered happily a bit further west on the Trans-Canada trail, and then began our return to the car. On the way we admired this spotted saxifrage.

Our day had been quite full. The next day would be more challenging: seeing just how far we could manage on a route that had frustrated us in 2022, climbing the Centennial Ridge trail from the north.

Puebloan Mysteries: Acoma Pueblo

On May 10, 2024, our Off the Beaten Path group departed Grants, NM, to visit the Sky City of Acoma Pueblo, a settlement perched atop a 365-foot mesa. Arriving promptly, we were among the first to arrive at the visitor's center, sitting near the foot of the mesa. (Click on any image to enlarge.)

All visitors must be accompanied by a tribal guide. A van took us to the top of a road blasted out of the rock in the 1950s.

 

Acoma first appears in historical records in 1539. Several Spanish expeditions followed over the years, culminating in a massacre and enslavement of the Acoma in 1599. Between 1629 and 1641, the Mission Church was built using enslaved labor, 20,000 tons of adobe and other materials, plus Ponderosa pine cut and carried from over 40 miles away. In this photo, our guide is explaining the architecture, art, and grisly early church history.

No photos are allowed inside.

Afterward, we began a walking tour of the Sky City. To make the presence of tourists less intrusive, taking photos of the residents is not done.

There are streets and cross streets.

The mesa hosts buildings old, new, and refurbished. About 55 families live here during the summer, but fewer in winter, so the children can attend school.

Some home renovations are still a work in progress.

Here's a look back as we left the church behind.

There are some vehicles up here. Note the outdoor oven to the left of the car.

To the northwest lies Enchanted Mesa, an earlier abode of the Acoma until erosion destroyed all access to the top.

Zooming in for a closer look ...

This closeup of a knob of "our" mesa shows how sheer the sides can become.

At one location, local artisans had works for sale, including gorgeous pots and other handicrafts. Joan and I needed extreme self-control to avoid accumulating more souvenirs.

 

Here, our group is moseying down the wide "Main Street."

Originally, access to the dwellings was through an opening in the roof, and ladders gave access from the street level.

At a wide intersection we enjoyed some more presentations, but without any photos, I'm at a loss to describe them in any detail. One fellow gave a presentation about his hand-made knives.

At the end of the tour, we could take the van back down to the visitor's center or clamber down the mesa, using the original route. This was the prospect as we pondered our choice; the visitor's center is in the green circle.

Click on any image to enlarge.

Most of us decided to try our luck with the trail. In the beginning, there were well-worn steps in the rock.

Then things went vertical, and the original hand- and foot-holds were very welcome. John, our Off the Beaten Path guide, did an excellent job guiding and assisting us.

More descent on more accommodating stairs.

Everyone made it safely down, and on our stroll to the visitor's center we admired this rock formation, perhaps a dike. The tip at the top right seemed ready to fall off.

After reassembling at the visitor's center, we left for the Pueblo Indian Cultural Center in Albuquerque. We had an ample lunch there, and then admired the traditional arts of 19 pueblos, such as the San Ildefonso black-on-black pottery. We also watched a traditional dance in a central courtyard.

Afterwards our group checked into the elegant Hotel Albuquerque Old Town, and later had a yummy farewell dinner at a favorite spot for our guide, John Ninneman. We arrived half an hour early at the restaurant and therefore retreated to the Old Town Plaza, perusing shops and the courtyard of the San Felipe de Neri Catholic Church, built in 1793, and other establishments around the plaza. Also, we had a chance to admire a couple of elegant lowriders before our excellent farewell repast. Early the next morning John ferried the first wave, including Joan and me, to the airport, ending our Off the Beaten Path adventure.

 

If you missed the first post in this Puebloan Mysteries sequence, it's here.