Canada 2024: Helen Lake

On July 18th, 2024, Joan and I chose to tackle a hike to Helen Lake, and preferably further. Long ago -- before this blog began -- we trod that trail and were fascinated by the sight of rollicking marmots. But we had been frustrated when trying to get further; snow had lingered on the narrow, rocky climb beyond the lake. This time promised to be different.

 

First, a map copied from this information-packed website. (Click on any image to enlarge.)

Those contour lines are in meters, not feet!

The lodge on the shores of Bow Lake is a black spot in the upper left of the map.

 

The parking area for Helen Lake was a short distance south on the parkway. It's a popular hike, so get there early. As you can see on the map, the trail began with a climb in the woods; the footing involved rocks, roots, small streams, and the occasional dried horse poop (only on the lower stretches). Then we turned towards a low shoulder on Crystal Ridge. This photo looks back towards Bow Lake.

At this elevation and latitude, spring flowers were in abundance. They especially pop out at old burn sites, where there's plenty of sunlight.

Sometimes there were open spots while in the woods ...

The woods began to thin, and the switchbacks proliferated.

The next range of mountains hove into view as we swung around the shoulder.

Soon we saw a foraging Clark's nutcracker, one of a flock in this spot.

Occasional streams trickled down from the heights to the west. Sometimes we walked through one without breaking our stride, but a few careful steps were needed when the path resumed at an offset to the left or right.

The trees began to peter out, and a gushing stream promised a lake ahead. Unfortunately, generations of hikers have braided and widened the beaten path.

Finally, Helen Lake appeared, with Cirque Peak (altitude 9,819') looming in the background.

People had already reached the lake, of course. I avoided including them in photos whenever I could. We found a festive atmosphere, a dog show, with at least five dogs now and more coming up. Taking a canine along seems almost de rigueur these days -- and of course, no marmot dared appear, even though all the dogs were on a leash.

After a snack, Joan and I continued east on the trail and then ascended switchbacks on a rocky, narrower path. In this photo, we're partway up and looking back at Helen.

The extra climb was worth it. Katherine Lake lies on the other side.

Joan and I walked to the far point of our petite ridge and looked down.

Even up here, flowers can bloom.

This was the view back to Cirque Peak. Rather barren looking!

Two hardy souls were slowly making their way up to the peak. My camera zoom couldn't resolve them,

but through our binoculars we saw tiny figures slowly making their way up that 45° slope. (They did succeed.)

It was now time for our return hike. At first it was easy enough, wandering past hikers and dogs, but after rounding the corner it became a slog, in the very heat of the day. The folks heading up were red in the face; some asked us, "How much further?" A late start makes the hike ten times harder.

 

We were relieved to finally reach the parking area. After dinner at the lodge, Joan and I took an evening stroll around the grounds that were so clogged with humanity during the day. It had been a great hike, and we were glad to have ascended the ridge above Helen Lake this time. Hmm. Could we make it to Katherine Lake in cooler weather ...

CR2015: Wasootch Ridge

For August 8th, Joan and I decided to climb Wasootch Ridge. This hike, a round trip of 11 kilometers (6.8 miles) with an altitude gain of 1010 meters (3315'), is longer with more climbing than our hike yesterday of King Creek Ridge, but except for the first kilometer or so, not as steep.

There was a group of rock climbers having a briefing as we started up the trail. There are some popular cliff faces along Wasootch Creek for those who enjoy ropes and pitons.

Joan and I could soon see the rock and gravel fan of the creek, a result of the June 2013 floods.

Those stripes in the distance are the runs of the Nakiska Ski Resort. The brown skyline above them displays the Olympic Summit and then, to the far right, Mount Allan. We hiked most of the way to Mount Allan last year on the Centennial Ridge Trail.

From the parking area the trail heads straight up the west end of the ridge. After the initial rugged ascent, both in the woods and on slab faces,

there are a series of bumps, or small summits, as you continue up the ridgeline. Like a stegosaurus' back. Some altitude is lost after each bump, but each successive one carries you higher. This unevenness isn't always large enough to be reflected on a topographical map.

With a little altitude we could see north to Barrier Lake.

The flood gravels have filled the valley bottom.

Here Joan is climbing one of the first small summits. Usually they aren't as daunting as they appear. Yes, Joan's in the picture, climbing the second hump; click on the photo to enlarge.

Looking back to that summit.

After almost two more hours and a snack stop, much of the ridge is now snaking behind us.

There was one stretch along a narrow shelf with a dropoff that made us careful, attentive, and unwilling to stop. You can see how much higher we've come. It's sunny and hot today, and we're consuming a lot of fluids.

Others are coming up on the trail.

This cairn doesn't mark the end, but we're getting closer. A few more uphill stretches to go.

We pass a double-cairn summit, but it doesn't signify anything. Keep going!

Here is the final trail cairn. Joan is looking for a good lunch spot. 

Joan momentarily inspects the post-trail route. Most hikers declare this the turn-around point.

Gillean Daffern's description of the scrambling route to the final summit, far right, includes phrases such as "down to the col between the fin and the rocky top, where another percentage of hikers call it a day," and "descend right ... scramblers who follow the ridge crest at this point almost always come unglued at the notch." This image zooms in on the final tower. There's a hint of a trail at the bottom of the steep rock faces.

We have lunch and enjoy the view. In this panoramic shot, Porcupine Creek is visible on the north side of Wasootch Ridge.

We'll meet the group of four coming up behind us not long after we shove off from lunch.

This formation looks as if it's about to fall over, especially the boulders on the lower right.

There's a whole new floor to the Wasootch Creek valley, made up of rock. Just thinking of the force of water needed to move this much stone compels us to take another peek:

Our bird sightings on this hike included Clark's nutcrackers, white-winged crossbills, northern flickers, yellow-rumped warblers, and (audio only) golden-crowned kinglets. The photo I have to offer is of Clark's nutcrackers.

Going back is a slog compared to the adventure of heading up. And many of the steep sections have footing just as bad, if not worse, headed down.

Joan and I encountered more people coming up as the afternoon wore on, including some who had no idea how much further they had to go. Fortunately there are views to be had all along the way. Two young women were sitting at such a spot, snacking and chatting away. When we approached they asked if we could take their picture -- their iPhone timer wasn't up to the task at hand. There was a dead tree, gray and leafless, across the trail from their perch, and they wanted a photo of themselves up in the tree as if chased by a bear. They clambered up a body length or two, and the photo shoot went off without a hitch. However, I failed to take a photo of them clinging to the tree, smiling, with my own camera. This is my most-regretted photo neglect of the past several years!

We reached the bottom without mishap. The round trip took just under seven hours, including our snack and lunch stops. Not bad for a pair of flatlanders!

Tomorrow would be our last full day in Canada.