At breakfast we could see that the musicians were leaving Mount Engadine Lodge today, as were we.
The rain from yesterday had frozen overnight.
A bull moose was departing the frosty mud slough after an early visit.
Our traveling pigs, Danny and Pigtail (right in the photo) enjoyed a post-breakfast playdate with singer-songwriter Cara Luft and her traveling companions.
They posed for a farewell photo.
The monkey became overexcited, and leapt onto the lamp.
We said our goodbyes and then set off for an easier, nearby day hike at Karst Spring. This would leave us plenty of time to drive to Field, our staging point to catch the early morning Lake O'Hara bus tomorrow.
The Karst Spring trail is a spur off a major route used winter and summer. The main trail can take you to Bryant Creek Shelter and deeper, to Assiniboine Lodge, Wonder Pass, and other backcountry destinations.
The first part is an old logging road, crisscrossed by cross-country ski trails, and mostly uninteresting except for occasional views to the north.
After about 3.7km (2.3 miles) Joan and I took the signed spur heading south, past Watridge Lake. Soon you must cross a marshy area on a boardwalk, where sometimes we have spotted fabulous orchids. Further on, a narrower boardwalk spans a damp stretch.
The trail begins to rise, slowly at first, steeply at the end. The creek is tumbling down from the spring in full roar.
The energetic form of Nature's artistry was all around us.
A final curve with a railing conceals the spring, and the sound of the water is almost deafening.
The source is a deceptively modest-looking upwelling in the flank of the mountain.
In winter the scene would be much different!
On the way back we were alerted by other hikers that there was a creature at the far edge of the large marsh.
It's a moose, browsing!
After returning it was time to drive on, through Canmore and past Banff, Lake Louise, and the border of British Columbia. We would spent the night in Field, at the Kicking Horse Lodge, before heading to Lake O'Hara the next day.
Checking in was an adventure. At first they wanted to give us one of the basement rooms, which are poorly ventilated and are situated next to where people hang out to smoke. We had encountered this before, and Joan had asked how to avoid this, and the reply had been that rooms are handed out in order of reservations made, basement rooms last. Joan made it clear that we had made our reservations in January and this was the last day of August and just what did we have to do to get a non-basement room?! The check-in guy consulted his computer and then gave us room #14, in the main section.
But the adventure was not over. Joan was in the shower and I was in my bathrobe when the door started rattling. Somebody was trying to enter the room! Fortunately we had thrown the dead bolt. I peeked out, saw a couple, cautiously opened the door -- and discovered two German tourists who had just been given keys to #14. They were as astonished as we were. The man returned to check-in and apparently another room was found, as after several minutes neither of them was lingering outside our door. I stood down from my watch duty and finally got my shower.
Sheesh.
One has to take pictures of the trains in Field. It's a rail yard and switching point for the Canadian Pacific Railroad. If train noise bothers you, definitely bring earplugs.
We had dinner at the Truffle Pigs Café, part of the lodge building, and returned to our room. Nobody else had moved in while we were gone.
The next day, August 30th, opened with the morning sun illuminating the clouds and painting bands of pink and gold on the mountains.
Outside our window was a male red crossbill, a bird Joan and I rarely see in Ohio, although it is supposed to winter here.
Today our destination was Rummel Lake, named after Baroness Elizabeth "Lizzie" Rummel. We had visited this lake only once before, in 2004, in an intermittent drizzle.
First we checked out the nearby bridge on the Mount Shark road, looking at flood damage and repairs.
The first stretch of the Rummel Lake trail, which is just opposite the lodge, is boring. Old logging roads wind and switchback through the forest, climbing without offering any vistas. Gradually they narrow and become more of a trail.
Occasionally some deadfall offers a tantalizing but frustrating peek across the valley. You must go further, and then the trail finally becomes an honest walk in the woods.
After about an hour and a half into the hike we heard some noises. A male spruce grouse, in full display, caught up to us on the trail.
He was fearless. Well, I'm not a mind-reader nor a grouse-whisperer, but he acted fearless. Or was it stupid? He came up to us and walked on by, clucking. Look at those eyebrows!
As you might suspect, he was defending and supervising his harem of five or six spruce grouse hens.
We stood transfixed, frequently using our binoculars. The group slowly worked its way through the woods, parallel to the trail, foraging. Eventually we had to tear ourselves away and continue on.
There are two routes for the final approach to the lake, the "snowshoe" route, not scenic but free of avalanche danger, and the summer route (the original). We went up on the summer route, which included some beating through willow thickets and cairn spotting to make our way along one or two rerouted sections of trail. The summer route, in general, hews closely to the creek; to follow it confidently we highly recommend Gillean Daffern's book, Kananaskis Country Trail Guide, Volume 1.
Arriving at Rummel Lake, I walked close to the shore and took its portrait.
To continue on to Rummel Pass follow the trail along the left (north) side of the lake, which eventually cuts into the trees and after a brief climb takes you to the approach to the pass. The trees thin out and then disappear as you keep going.
It being late summer, the tarns had dried out.
This spot was as far as we went. Looking back, you can see why we decided it was time to drop back down.
The peaks on the far side of the valley were disappearing into blue-grey mist. We opened our day packs and pulled out our rain jackets, which were almost ripped from our hands by the strong wind out here in the open.
It didn't start to rain until we reached the lake, where the wind was much gentler. We chose the broad, easier, and quicker "winter" route, accompanied by varying degrees of precipitation. Sometimes there was a steady shower, sometimes it almost stopped, but in the end it rained during the entire long slog back down to the lodge. By the time we finished with the logging road and its unvarying surface our feet were aching.
But we were back in time for afternoon tea and cleanup before dinner. Tomorrow we would move on, so Rummel Pass must wait for another year, when our desire to see the pass overcomes our aversion to the logging road.
Over the last decade Joan and I had read about the hike to the top of Ha Ling, just outside Canmore, a peak named for a Chinese man who won a bet in 1896 by climbing to the top, planting a flag, and returning, all in about five hours. We'd never tackled it. Never considered it seriously. It's steep -- you gain 2300 feet (700 m) in 1.6 miles (2.6 km) -- and you reach 7900 feet altitude, which is gasping territory for those of us that spend most of our lives under 1000 feet. Plus, this would be only our second day of hiking. This photo should give you an idea of the challenge; it's adapted (I punched up the contrast and white balance) from Wikimedia Commons under Attribution and Share-Alike licensing; the original is by Kevin Lenz in 2006. Ha Ling is the blunter, left-hand peak.
We decided to give it a go and see how far we got. It would be good training, for both legs and lungs. At 10:00 we were the first car at the parking area, but across the road, something unusual was happening. Equipment, people, trucks, cranes. (This photo was taken on the way back, and other cars had arrived.)
We were puzzled by all the industrial-looking activity. Was the trail up there? We fished out our guidebooks and consulted them, then, with our initial notion confirmed, walked up to the industrial zone. There we were met by a friendly escort person. A movie set was being constructed, and although hikers were allowed through to the trail, we must be accompanied. A fake entrance to the Cheyenne Mountain nuclear bunker was being built! (The real one is in Colorado.)
There is a small plaque at the beginning of the trail.
The trail is briefly a gradual climb,
but then begins a relentless ascent through the trees.
There are portions in this first two-thirds where rockslides have opened up a view through the trees.
The trail grows steeper and the trees sparser until you emerge onto the scree slope. At the point where the trail turns sharply left I took this photo towards the top. Joan and I were thankful that we both had two hiking poles.
Slowly and steadily we continued on. Then we were at the top, and the first ones there! The far side is a sheer drop popular with technical rock climbers. Joan and I sat on the edge and drank in the view; here's a video clip with some wind noise.
This photo zooms in on Cougar Creek in Canmore. The darker grey thread is the normal watercourse; on either side are the gravel, rocks, and boulders that replaced the washed-away creek banks, yards, and decks (click to enlarge). During the June 2013 floods in this area the trans-Canada highway was cut in several places.
Others soon began to arrive at the top. Some were shocked by the drop-off at the edge, but everybody was pleased and grateful to have made it.
Joan and I ate our lunch and then started back down. Looking back, I took this photo, which provides some scale and shows the popularity of a late start in this part of Canada.
We made it back to the car without mishap, and arrived at Mount Engadine Lodge in time for tea. As almost always happens, a moose appeared at the slough around suppertime.
After dinner, which was fabulous as usual, the award-winning Canadian singer-songwriter Cara Luft performed for the guests at the lodge. This was a "Sing for Your Supper" engagement, not a formal "Music in the Meadows" concert.
Her friend Karla Anderson, who also performed on the CD "The Engadine Sessions: Come to the Mountain," joined in for a few songs.
Then it was time to retire and prepare for another day of hiking tomorrow.
