August 1st brought us our final and biggest hike of this visit to the Canadian Rockies, the Centennial Ridge Trail. We rose early and ate in our room, our breakfast having been stashed in the mini-fridge the day before.
Joan and I first drove downhill from the Delta Lodge to the Ribbon Creek Day Use parking area, altitude we must make up on foot. After starting on the trail we encountered this sign.
The first stretch of the trail is broad and crosses and follows various old roads that lead to the Mine Scar, the site of an old open-pit coal mine that operated until 1952. Many of these lower-altitude trails show damage from the June 2013 floods.
The path grew steeper and we steadily gained altitude until the grassy sweep of the replanted strip mine opened up in front.
And we continued up. In favored spots flowers were blooming.
Moisture from heavy showers the evening before has generated low clouds this morning. Here, we look back after half an hour of switchback climbing through the coal scar meadows. The top of Mount Kidd, right, sports a grey wreath.
And we continued climbing. Eventually the meadows faded and the terrain became rockier.
Joan and I passed through sections where the trail was more of a route through rocky outcrops than a path. Eventually we broke out onto the beginnings of Olympic Summit, the odd name for a long, gently rising ridgeline that includes remote weather monitoring equipment.
Here is some of the gear.
Further on, there is a trail camera. Smile!
It was time for a chocolate bar, and our first sit of the hike. To the northwest, the last bump of Olympic Summit provided the foreground for rising clouds and mists.
The Centennial Ridge trail continues along the distant ridgeline.
Fortified by our chocolate, we continued to the high point of Olympic Summit and gazed across. The Ribbon Creek valley is on the far left, and the Memorial Lakes are just left of center.
Our guidebook says that many people climb this far and then turn around, and emphasizes that this is a mistake. The trail stretches on towards Mount Allan, 10,860', still in the clouds.
Five minutes down the trail we encountered a guardian.
The trail descended (boo) and then began climbing again, weaving amongst the rocks.
The trail moved to the west side of the ridgeline and we entered the Rock Garden, a compelling reason to hike beyond the Olympic Summit. Mount Allan stubbornly held onto its clouds.
This is the view back towards Olympic Summit.
A plaque located five minutes on explains the origins of the trail.
The geology here has preserved a line of harder rock, tilted almost vertical by tectonic collisions. This line has eroded into a marvelous set of teeth.
It's difficult to comprehend the scale unless you're standing there.
This pika was wondering what we were up to.
I could have easily spent an hour here, photographing the stones from different angles and in different light.
And these.
Even up here, flowers take root in the stony soil, including dwarf larkspur and alpine forget-me-not.
We also saw a hoary marmot dashing about on these slopes.
Beyond the rock garden there's a short stretch of route-finding through rocks, which I'll show on the return journey, and then more trail. Joan and I reached a saddle in the ridgeline before the final climb to Mount Allan, looked at our watches, and decided to lunch and turn around. I've marked up this Google Maps image to show the trail parking, right, and our saddle. Mount Allan is in the upper left corner.
I took this panoramic shot from the saddle, looking west. Our entry route is on the extreme left, and the way to Mount Allan, finally out of the clouds, is on the right.
Here's a closer look at the route to the summit. Joan and I were tempted, oh we were tempted, to go on. But time was short at our hiking speed, and there was a lot of knee-pounding downhill to come. Reaching the saddle wasn't too shabby for a couple living in Ohio.
An account from the accomplished hiking blogger Barry, a Calgary native who did reach the summit, is here.
A full zoom with the camera captured this image of one of the Memorial Lakes, far across the valley.
We began to retrace our steps. This red flower caught my eye; it turns out to the ledge stonecrop, or Rhodiola integrifolia.
Approaching the rock garden again, this time from the north.
This rock wall slowed us on our way up. We briefly tried the east side, but it quickly broke into a pathless jumble. Here, Joan is approaching the point on the west side where we found the best way up and down. There was another point where down would have been easy, but back up problematic.
I paused for a panoramic view when we returned to the top of Olympic Summit. The clouds have lifted and the light is now behind me as I gaze down the ridgeline of the "summit."
After a few minutes hiking down the ridgeline we spotted a horned lark.
At the end of the ridge the path dove down various rock faces, and then opened up again.
We were walking through a study plot. Joan and I had also seen this sign when first entering the coal scar meadow.
We paused on some rocks here for a final snack break.
The fireweed still had some lovely blooms.
Here is a clear view of the trail through the coal scar meadow. We were glad for our trekking poles; it's even more precipitous than it looks.
My final photo of this hike shows a butterfly checking us out.
After a long, footsore tromp down the final segments we returned to the parking area. In particular, Joan's big toe had been troubling her for the last part of the descent. Intellectually we appreciated the correctness of our decision to turn about at the saddle, as much as our hearts would have enjoyed the view from Mount Allan.
The next day, our first based at the Delta Lodge in Kananaskis Village, we hiked to Pocaterra Cirque and then climbed the south peak of Poctaterra Ridge. Last year I wrote about our hike to Pocaterra Cirque and partway up to Little Highwood Pass, so this post will focus more the new stuff in our jaunt up to 8,796 feet.
As this Gem Trek map shows, the route begins by weaving around a shoulder of Highwood Ridge, departing from a wide official interpretive trail.
Here is the first view looking up the valley towards the cirque, taken after having tramped through the woods.
The cirque is far back at the foot of the ridge. Today's goal is the top of the "hill"on the right, reached from the cirque. As you can see in the foreground, there are occasional avalanche fields and spring runoff gullies to cross. This terrain, kept clear of trees by the forces of nature, hosted wildflowers galore including these dwarf larkspur.
Spring was running two weeks late, and there were still a couple of snowfields across the trail.
Did I mention avalanches? We saw plenty of evidence of a harsher-than-usual winter, including the damage to these young trees at the end of an avalanche run. Some are bent and some are snapped.
One of our friends, the gray-crowned rosy finches, was hunting in a tiny patch of snow.
There is a brief level meadow where you can walk easily. This photo looks back from it.
The trail left the meadow and began to wind through rocks and across a small stream. There we encountered a mama ptarmigan,
who was calling out to her youngsters exploring the banks of the creek.
As long as we made no sudden moves she continued to stay out in plain view, on guard.
We reached the point where the trail for the south peak split off from the trail to Little Highwood Pass. The route to the pass, which we had taken last year and along which we had seen ptarmigans and pikas, was buried in snow. We crunched across the snow to the south peak trail.
The next few pictures are out of order, in the sense that I took them while descending rather than while hiking up. It's a steep climb, and one that led us to resolve to bring two trekking poles next year, for better balance and to enable us to use both arms as well as both legs. From the time stamps on the photos, it took us about an hour to climb the "hill."
At first the peak trail skirts the edge of the ridge, perched on a narrow strip of ground hung between the tangled woods of the hill and the valley of the pass below. Here is the first photo after we finally broke out of the trees. At this point the trail may disappear occasionally, but you still know the general direction. Higher up, you can't miss it.
I tried to not guess how far away the top was; psychologically I find it better not to tell myself "We're almost there," because it's often a false hope, an illusion caused by staring up from below.
For a while there is vegetation, but as the trail steepens there is less and less, making the footing less secure.
You might spot some figures on the trail ahead (click to enlarge). As I said, these pictures are really in reverse chronological order, having been taken going down. We had the advantage of an early start, and the many day-hikers from Calgary face a two-hour (or so) drive to the trailhead. We were the first to the top today!
Getting closer to the top ... but by no means there yet.
Zooming in on some of our fellow hikers, perhaps you can see how steep this trail can be.
Getting to the first bump doesn't get you all the way to the top. Where is the top, anyway? Are you sure?
Almost there now. Don't step on the trailside flowers in your oxygen-deprived state.
The top has two bumps. I took a picture of the south bump from the north. 8,796'. In solitude we took a half-lunch here.
Now for some pictures of the landscape below, taken from the peak and using the zoom of my camera. First, the parking area at Highwood Pass.
The meadow of the cirque.
The view over to Grizzly Col. Note the path in the center, and the keyhole in the upper right. With binoculars we saw the shapes of a large clan of mountain sheep to the left of the Col. Perhaps some other year we'll tackle Grizzly Col.
And the view to Elbow Lake, center, just a smudge peeking over the edge of the near ridge, and then up into the valley network beyond. In two days we would take this route up to Rae Lake.
Finally ... the video! A pan around from the peak.
360° View from highest (south) peak of Pocaterra Ridge from
Ben Branch on
Vimeo.
Then we went down, down, and down. At the foot of the hill and the edge of the cirque there is a boulder field, where we took the second half of our lunch.
Just before we reached the pond we were passed by some of the young and acclimated Calgarians who had been on their way up as we had been on our way down. Well, after all, we had stopped for the half-lunch and chatted with other hikers.
We encountered this photographer, who was enamored of all the wildflowers.
On arriving at the parking area we were almost giddy. We had successfully tackled the south peak of Pocaterra Ridge, and felt that we were finally getting in shape.
