On Tuesday, September 19th, Joan and I snacked for breakfast at the Market Café, which, hurrah, now had four flavors of Le Chocolatier chocolate bars in stock. We bought two, plus two bananas. Side note: Delta Lodge at Kananaskis is now rebranded as Kananaskis Mountain Lodge.
Today we would continue exploring the trail around Upper Kananaskis Lake. When we pulled into the Interlake parking area, where we had turned around the day before, the temperature was hovering at the freezing mark, and some snow was falling, definitely a different weather drainage from Kananaskis Village.
And there were three moose! A female, her youngster, and a young male hanging around her and making noises, which she ignored. We quietly watched until they disappeared into the woods when a helicopter approached.
The chopper was ferrying supplies towards, we guessed, the Turbine Canyon backcountry campground, and bringing trash and debris back. Each round trip wasn't taking very long.
Here the helicopter is lifting away again.
Zooming in on this trip's cargo.
Driving to and back from the parking area we also saw six deer (groups of three, two, and a solo.)
Joan and I set out counter-clockwise again to add the north and west shores to our Upper Lake experience. We moseyed along, as neither of us was feeling 100%. The weather was very localized; snow might be falling on the north shore but not the south, or the reverse. Here's a view looking south.
This photo is centered on the strip of land that gives Hidden Lake, nestled between two mountains, its name.
Then the trail entered the Palliser rockslides, an area of geology research and a tumbled landscape.
The source of these millions of cubic meters of debris is the adjacent mountainside, unstable in the geologic sense.
The lithic outflow is clearly visible in satellite images. In this image the red dots trace today's hike, the purple, yesterday's; click on it to enlarge.
We bypassed the Point Campground turnoff on our outbound leg. Bicycles are allowed this far, no further, if they take the higher wider path when available; there are four concrete forms at the entrance for bike parking.
As the trail bent south we came across this inlet, with Canada geese, colorful grasses, and tree stumps.
There was a wonderful picnic bench at the bottom of Upper Kananaskis Falls, on a short side trail off the main trail. Here we had lunch.
The weather allowed the pigs to come out of our daypacks and enjoy the view.
Joan and I continued the short distance up to the bridge across the stream, rebuilt after the 2013 floods. Until this new bridge was installed there was no way to complete a lake circuit.
The reconstruction includes a stone wall held by wire mesh, anchored to the near bank, and a tree lashed in front of that!
From the other side of the bridge I could walk down to the water level and photograph the undercarriage.
This was our turn-around point. On the return we visited Point Campground, which was empty. It's a family-friendly campground with gravel pads, picnic tables, firewood, two biffies, and food storage lockers. Not primitive back-country stuff!
As we re-entered the Palliser rockslides we encountered a pika (and heard one more). He looked fluffed up and well-fed against the cold. At this altitude there was still greenery to harvest against the winter months.
He looked a bit sleeker stretched out for a jump.
In recrossing the Palliser we saw this stone bearing red paint marks. I don't think it indicates anything useful ...
The weather reinforced its fickleness as we passed through the Palliser. Here, another panoramic view.
A closeup showing the variation in snow with altitude.
Back in the woods, Joan and I saw three pileated woodpeckers, and likely a fourth. They are not common here but flourish in suitable habitats. Joan spotted a varied thrush.
Drawing towards the end, we began to be hit by wind and soft ice pellets. In a strong breeze we tossed our gear into the car, trying to keep the weather out. Only then did it let up!
We returned to the lodge to find that housekeeping had visited, even though we'd signed up for the "green" option and its small discount. Well, the lodge hadn't been open under the new management for long.
We planned to explore the new bridges on the lower reaches of the Galatea Lakes trail the next day.
Joan and I lugged the packed duffels out to our tent's porch by 9am, and then we were off to breakfast. The morning activity would be a hike, or rather two, one a fast-packed and longer jaunt up the valley, and the other, moseying around with photography stops at any time.
But at the hike's start the groups were kept together, for there was a surprise. One of Julius' sled (and summertime bear-deterrent) dogs had puppies!
Mama didn't seem too concerned, Julius's dogs being very socialized for working dogs. She didn't even mind having her picture taken.
We were taken with the puppies. Or did they capture us?
We could even cuddle them. Can't take 'em home, though.
Mom got involved in a game: tug-of-war with Drew's glove.
We reluctantly left the puppies and began our walks. Joan and I went with the faster/longer group, and quickly put some distance between us and base camp dwindling behind.
The glacial valley had no particular trail, so Drew guided us through vegetation (the wild blueberries were delicious) and across or along watercourses and rocky bluffs.
After passing a series of lakes and pools, some of which contained arctic char, I took a photo looking back. Couldn't see base camp from here!
We returned to camp just in time for lunch. About 1:30 the helicopter arrived, carrying supplies for the next group.
The heli would make four trips to take fourteen people (twelve guests and Katie and Drew) plus their luggage to Kulusuk. Joan and I were in the first wave, and I was lucky enough to be assigned the up-front seat next to the pilot.
The chopper covered the morning's hike in just a couple of minutes.
After cresting the pass our helicopter soon reached the ocean and flew over a series of islands and peninsulas.
Then the runway came into view, stretching from left to right.
Nobody from the hotel was at the airport when we disembarked. Drew made a couple of phone calls, and we waited only ten minutes before the hotel van pulled up. The Hotel Kulusuk was relatively close by, not in town, further away.
We were instructed to gather at 4:00 in the hotel lobby for a walk "with twenty minutes of sitting, so dress warmly." A mystery! A local Danish couple joined Drew and Katie to escort us to the new cemetery, near the top of the hill separating the hotel from the town. This view looks back the way we've come, before arriving at the crest. (Click on the image to enlarge.)
We paused briefly to peruse the cemetery, and then continued uphill.
At the top our four guides introduced a very animated and expressive Anda Kûitse,
one of children of the famous Inuit drum dancer Milka "Miilikka" Kûitse. He performed three dances for us:
- The Tale of Wonder. Don't puzzle over things such as your breath freezing in the air, just enjoy them.
- The Raven and the Goose. This is a love story gone bad whose theme was that sometimes two people can be so different that they cannot be together.
- The Bachelor's Song extols the virtues of the single life. In traditional Inuit life the single life would be rare unless a mother or sister were there to handle the women's jobs. A good hunter might have two, three, or even four wives!
This video clip records part of two dances. Can you guess which one the second half is?
Anda has toured in Europe as well, although he has a reputation for disappearing between performances.
We received departing gifts on the mountain, a carved tupilaq and a NatHab Base Camp patch. Earlier Drew had given each of us a hand-written card with a pressed Greenland flower in it!
The farewell dinner back at the hotel included an exchange of email addresses. However, today did not mark our last outing -- our flight tomorrow wasn't until the afternoon.
July 21st opened with a spotlight on the flanks of the mountains to the west.
Joan and I came up to breakfast to discover that our companion pigs had been playing in the kitchen. Doc Maybe was perched in a lookout spot,
and Percy was balancing on the draining rack!
Bad weather moved in, clouds, fog, and for a while, hail (click on the photo to enlarge).
Clouds came scudding up from the lower valleys.
The helicopter waited out this bad weather; in the end, the delay was only an hour, and Joan and I were not on a tight schedule today. The helicopter came up from the valley and swung around the bowl, rather than popping over the ridge.
The landing included pivoting the helicopter to keep the external storage locker on the same side as the luggage.
Half of a family group (Dad and daughter) were dropped off at the Shark Mountain helipad to pick up their car; Mom and son would fly to Canmore and wait for them.
For this final leg I got a turn in the front seat.
The clouds were still low down here, but they didn't deter an experienced pilot. We were going downhill to Canmore, not up into the mountains.
After disembarking in Canmore and grabbing our bags, we had trouble opening and closing the trunk in our rental car. On investigation the fault turned out to be a pebble wedged into the latch mechanism, which we dislodged.
Joan and I had extra time in the afternoon, so we drove a while up the Icefields Parkway to drink in the landscape.
We certainly weren't the only ones.
Then we returned to the Trans-Canada Highway and drove on to Field, where we would spend the night. There is a trail leaving from the Kicking Horse Campground, called A Walk in the Past.
This is an interpretive historical trail, with printed guides visible in the lower right of the photo. The signs on the trail are easy to find.
The path departs from a flat campground, so we weren't expecting an interesting landscape. However, the trail soon launches into a climb up the flank of the mountain, crosses the railroad and under the TransCanada. It grows into a broader way that follows the steep (4.5%) railroad bed originally used before the creation of the Spiral Tunnels, which reduced the grade to a manageable 2.2% in 1908.
At the end of the trail lies an narrow gauge locomotive, abandoned when the construction of the Spiral Tunnels was completed.
It's a Baldwin 2-6-0 mogul steam locomotive, as described in this plaque (click on the photo to enlarge).
There was a panoply of flowers in one section of the route. Here, a tall white bog orchid.
The indian paintbrush is one of the most widespread flowering plants, and most varied in color, in the Canadian Rockies.
And here is the mountain death camas. As you might suspect, it's not a good idea to eat the flowers.
Impressive in an entirely different way was this tree, bark clawed off by a bear. My walking stick provides scale. I'm glad I wasn't here the same time as the bear.
We returned to our car and checked into the nearby Cathedral Mountain Lodge, where we unpacked. This required precision because most of the floor space is filled with the bed, a short armoire, gas-fired heater, and chairs. After unpacking the minimum amount for a one-night stay, we had dinner at the lodge.
When Joan and I went to bed, it became clear that the cabins have a design problem. They have a high clerestory ("clear story") window facing the porch, which admits light from the strategically placed porch light. The porch light automatically turns on at dusk and cannot be turned off. There is no curtain or other means of preventing the bright light from entering the cabin. It was too high to reach. We finally gave up; I re-dressed and trudged over to the front desk, where the surprised but helpful staff member rustled up a short stepladder, and we successfully turned off the light by unscrewing the bulb a couple of turns. Insulating my hand by a towel, of course.
Darkness properly established, we went to sleep. Tomorrow, Lake O'Hara!
