Glacier National Park - Cobalt Lake

As far as I was concerned, we couldn't leave Browning early enough this morning. We returned to East Glacier and stopped at a little cafe, Brownie's. The service was horrendous and my food was crap. Brownie’s slyly renamed the ‘Egg McMuffin’ the ‘Sunrise Breakfast’ and charged me triple for it. (However, Matthias reported eating a tasty strudel.)

There was a train station in town; I was happy to learn later in the day that I could have ridden the train directly to Glacier National Park from St. Paul, Minnesota, a 22-hour ride. I put it on my list of things to do in the future…

The air temperature in East Glacier was much cooler than we had experienced the previous several days in other parts of the park. I’m not sure if it was due to our slightly higher elevation or good luck. It was welcomed. Matthias and I visited the Two Medicine Ranger Station to pick up our backcountry camping pass; we would hike to Cobalt Lake, 5.7 miles away and 1400 feet up, and camp for one night. We then proceeded to the trailhead at Two Medicine Lake where we parked the car and loaded our packs. We were already a well-oiled machine and it took just a few minutes. Matthias stopped in at the general store and purchased some gear, including a couple of handy Nalgene-like bottles which would help him more easily filter and carry his water.

We quickly passed around the east side of Two Medicine Lake, ascending briefly through marshland, then prairie, then forest. We stopped for pictures and to catch our breath at beautiful Rockwell Falls, then we proceeded up a series of switchbacks to a great terrain full of slate-like rocks and low conifers with a stream cutting through it all. The hike took only about two hours and fifteen minutes. I recommend it to everyone! Eventually, we found Cobalt Lake framed by the Continental Divide located above and beyond it. We erected the tent, hung our food on the bear pole, and rested for an hour. Matthias loaned me Robert Byron’s “The Road to Oxiana” which I read. Matthias brought his Montana guidebook along to plan our future endeavors.

Having regained our energy, we set off again to the top of the Continental Divide. This continental divide (aka the ‘Great’ Continental Divide) is the border between the two watersheds that flow to the Pacific and Atlantic (via the Gulf of Mexico) oceans, meaning that the water that runs and falls to the east of the divide goes to the Atlantic eventually and the water on the west side runs to the Pacific eventually. We saw mountain goats and big horn sheep on our way to the top. Just as we gained the hill, I realized how underdressed I was in my shorts and tee shirt. The wind was blowing extremely hard and it was cold! Smartly, Matthias was already wearing pants and he whipped out his windbreaker. The view was stunning; you could look for miles down a different valley on both sides of the divide.

The hike to the top was only about a mile and a half. We returned to camp, read and rested some more, filtered water from Cobalt and eventually made our way down to the food preparation area to cook supper. We met the threesome that was occupying the second campsite at Cobalt; a brother, sister and friend, all likely in their 50’s on a four-night hiking journey through the area. The ‘friend’ was an outdoor (fishing/hunting/hiking) writer who maintained a couple of columns and did freelance writing to fill in the gaps. He told us all about his craft and what it takes to get started. I listened intently and took mental notes. That sounds like fun!

Matthias and I returned to our site and eventually crawled into the tent. We discussed our attack plan for the next few days. So much to see and do! We set the alarm for 6:00 AM, planned get a shower and access the internet in East Glacier the next day, then push on to Billings, Montana, with perhaps a detour or two on the way.

Browning, Montana

The wind blew especially hard during the night and the rain started sometime around daybreak. The ‘plops’ on the tent kept Matthias and I inside for a little longer than we otherwise would have stayed. Eventually, the rain stopped and we exited the tent to heat up some oatmeal and pack up before walking back to the car. A few raindrops fells on us as we walked along Glenn Lake, but the weather improved the rest of the way. The sky to the south was hazy due to, we guessed, the fire around St. Mary. (Notice the haze in the attached picture!) We wisely took a longer break on the way back and conserved a little more energy for the steep push back up the hill to the car. We arrived sweaty and tired about four and a quarter hours after leaving our campsite. It was our first successful overnighter in Glacier; we would do one more before leaving the area.

Our plan was to head back to St. Mary for a shower at KOA. Then we would figure out the night’s sleeping arrangements. From a distance on our approach to the town, we could clearly see that the fire had spread during the night. Less than a mile from St. Mary, a man was standing guard at a road block; the town of St. Mary was being evacuated. The hard wind during the night had increased the affected area to 3,000 acres! St. Mary, the guard explained, was a ghost town and was currently being fire-proofed, (whatever that means exactly, I don’t know.)

We followed the detour along Highway 464 deeper into the Indian reservation to Browning, Montana. For about 10-miles along the way, we passed through the thickest smoke from the fire; the yellowish haze made the landscape surreal. We had identified a hotel in Browning in our guidebook just in case, but once we arrived in town, we decided to push on further to East Glacier, which would put us in a better location for the backcountry hike we had planned the next day. East Glacier existed, obviously, to provide services, meals and accommodations to the Glacier NP tourists. Due to the St. Mary refugees as well as other displaced tourists whose plans had been affected by the St. Mary fire, there were no rooms available anywhere in the town (or at least not at the 8 or 9 hotels we checked with.) We popped into a local laundromat/internet café to check our email and called ahead to the hotel back in Browning. We reserved their last room.

The rest of the day was administrative. We ate dinner at Taco Johns, cleaned our clothes at the laundromat across the street and bought groceries at IGA a couple of doors down. Highlights included the clean hotel room with the firm beds as well as the nice girl at Taco John's that gave us free drinks. Lowlights included the drunks, beggars, stray dogs, and other scaries around Browning. Nevertheless, it was a nice evening. Back the hotel, Matthias and I watched the Angels take on the Red Sox at Fenway. He read, I blogged.

Matthias and I were very lucky to have driven the Going-to-the-Sun Road just the day before it closed. With St. Mary evacuated and closed, there is no longer a way to access that road from the east.

Glacier National Park - Belly River Valley

We rose early, packed up camp, and set off back towards the US/Canadian border to find the trailhead to our Belly River Valley backcountry trail – the first of 2 trails we would hike while in Glacier National Park. The sky to the northeast was hazy due to the spreading fire. On the way to the trailhead, we inquired at the ranger station where they told us that the fire had increased to 250 acres and would probably last for weeks. Fortunately, it wouldn’t affect our hiking plans. Matthias and I then stopped in town for a coffee for me and a tea for him. We each made a couple of calls. Matthias is attempting to extend his trip for a day so we have a little more time to explore my hometown.

In the trailhead parking lot, just 100 yards or so south of US Customs, we packed our camping gear into our packs and walked into the woods. Ahead of us, we expected a hike of 10.3 miles along the Belly River and then the Mokowanis River, with a 700-ft decrease and a 300-ft increase in elevation. The trail descended through a forest following switchbacks then plateau-d in a vast meadow surrounding the Belly River. We followed the river until we crossed it on a wire-suspension bridge. We perfected our bear-calls as we walked. Our packs felt pretty heavy and were both relieved as we finally arrived at our Glenn Lake campground. Park Rangers’ horses were tied up at a nearby hitching post, but we never did see the rangers. There were four tent sites available, but Matthias and I were the only campers there. We had the place – including a pit toilette, food preparation area, food hanging area, and, best of all, a beach on Glenn Lake – all to ourselves. We arrived mid-afternoon and spent the rest of the day wading in the lake, reading, and journaling. The sky was clear, but the wind was blowing extremely hard. For dinner, Matthias cut up a salad of tomatoes, cucumbers and feta cheese while I cooked the pasta. I swear everything tastes better when camping.

Hungry squirrels and a mule deer popped by for a visit during the evening. Matthias and I crawled into the tent this night about 8:30 and spent a while talking before fading off to sleep.

Glacier National Park - Going to the Sun

I slept like a champ last night, probably due to the cool night air and the long hike the day before. After a quick breakfast of granola and tea, Matthias and I packed up camp, said good-bye to Waterton, and made for the border. We took Highway 6 to the southeast, which changed to Highway 17 once we crossed back into the US (Montana, to be exact.) Ahhhh, the US… It’s great to be back! Our encounter at Customs was brief, but thorough. We had to park the car, and the border agent told us about how Switzerland is an ally of the US – while he photographed and fingerprinted Matthias. One of the other agents confiscated an apple from the trunk.

From Highway 17, we turned south on 89 toward St. Mary, Montana. St. Mary is on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation and serves as a gateway town to Glacier National Park (which we were about to explore.) Once in St. Mary, we took the Going-to-the-Sun Road (GttS) to the west. We stopped at the park’s St. Mary visitor center to get a better understanding of the lay of the land – and we reserved two backcountry camping permits for two different trips into the wilderness. We continued further to the west on GttS to the park-operated Rising Sun campground where we pitched our tent. The campground really wasn’t in very good shape and the tent-sites were close together. I’d recommend going to the Kampground of America (KOA) to anyone visiting.

We returned to the small town of St. Mary, bought groceries, ate a late lunch of burgers and fries at a local lodge and then we drove to the St. Mary KOA, because we were told they provided wifi access. As we were checking into cyberspace, there was a little commotion just outside the front door; someone noticed smoke coming from a forest fire burning to the south. Unaware of the consequences, I kept right on blogging…

Emails and blogs complete, Matthias and I got back on GttS and stopped again at the ranger station to inquire about the fire. It was about 8 miles to the south of St. Mary near Red Eagle Lake and was reportedly started by a human. The fire, it seemed, was quickly spreading. We stopped along the north shore of St. Mary Lake and looked to the south about 4 miles. Smoke jumpers were diving from planes into the vicinity to assess of the fire. Talk about on-the-job hazards; these jumpers were coming in low and fast. We took pictures and conjectured about what was happening.

We decided to take the GttS further to the west. We weren’t sure exactly what to expect besides higher altitude and a great view. The road opened in 1933 and at the time was considered narrow even for the Model T’s that dared to make the climb. The road stretches 52 miles east-west across the park, across a strand of the Rockies, and follows the Continental Divide for a short while half-way up from the base of nearly sheer cliffs. The ride was truly amazing. Even the crazy drivers that chose to delay 15 to 20 cars behind them by traveling at half the legal speed limit couldn’t ruin it. Logan Pass was the highest point on the drive and contained a wonderful ‘backyard’ with hiking paths up and around the open mountain meadow. Matthias and I stopped at the pass for a little while, took pictures of the mountain goats in and around the parking lot, and Matthias bought a couple of things at the visitor center.

We descended to the west and drove as far as Lake McDonald Lodge, a rustic old place built before the land was designated a national park. We sat by the lake for a while and peeked into the lodge then we got back into the car, crossed over Logan Pass again, and returned to a different lodge near our campsite that provided showers for $1.25. By this point, it was getting dark. We drove to a spot again on St. Mary Lake and looked across for a great view of the forest fire. Clearly it was spreading. It was beautiful to behold. We watched as trees torched. A note from the park warden placed under a rock on our picnic table back at our campsite told us that at 5:00 PM this day, the fire had spread to 50 acres and that a voluntary evacuation warning had been issued for the town of St. Mary. The warning didn’t include the campground, likely because we were more insulated from the fire by St. Mary Lake. Because it was late and because we had a late lunch, we skipped dinner and went to bed.

Waterton Lake NP - Crypt Lake

The Crypt Lake trailhead is accessible only by boat from Waterton town. Wanting to be on the first boat (at 9:00 AM) to the trailhead, Matthias and I rose early and wolfed down some cereal prior to heading to the marina to buy two round-trip tickets across the lake. We bought the tickets, and then packed our lunches before boarding the Miss Waterton. The ride was short and there were a lot more people on the boat than I expected going up to Crypt (about 40, I guess). Matthias and I should have positioned ourselves nearest to the exit on the boat so as to be the first ones off at the trail; instead, we were held up in a long line of people on the trail for the first hour of the hike.

We ascended through dense forest, then dusty hills on our 5-mile ascent to the lake. I was especially glad we had started early as the air temperature was quickly increasing. Near the end of the ascent, the terrain got interesting; in order to get to the lake, we had to tiptoe along a steep precipice, climb a ladder, and scamper through a tunnel which had developed naturally and was later enlarged. A marmot guarded the exit to the tunnel.

The lake was beautiful. We had lunch there, rested and stretched our legs, and I went for a swim. All the while, we shooed pesky horseflies. On our way back to the boat, we took a detour through Hell-Roaring Falls. They did roar like hell, but we could hardly see them and were not too inclined to get off the trail to see them, because there were reportedly bears around and we were pretty hot and tired. We made the 4:00 PM boat back to Waterton town and stopped again for a shower. We rested a bit on a bench at the marina, did a little shopping (for things like a newspaper, ice, and after-bite), then we had dinner at Subway. We visited a pavilion dedicated to the International Peace Park – a joint effort between Waterton Lake and Glacier National Parks to promote harmony, cooperation, etc…

We stopped at the Prince of Wales Hotel for a drink in the lounge overlooking the lake, and then we drove back toward our campsite, then beyond it, to the Red Rock Canyon where we walked the short self-guided trail and learned more about the geology of the park. Back at camp, I took no prisoners on the day’s sudoku while Matthias read his book. Later, I blogged while Matthias practiced his photography skills while shooting our fire, its reflection on a tree and the horizon. We intended to leave Waterton Lake early the next morning for Glacier in order to find a campsite over the weekend.

Waterton Lake NP - Rowe Lakes

Matthias and I visited the campground attendant this morning to switch our campsite to one with a fire pit - and we purchased camp and fire permits for the next two nights. Following a bowl of instant oatmeal for breakfast, we headed into Waterton town to refuel Conrad. The town is a quaint little place which was built up, it seemed, to cater to tourists. We drove around town a bit and identified all of the amenities we might need later.

Waterton Lake became Canada’s fourth national park in 1895. It is situated along the US/Canadian border in southern Alberta and the protected land continues across the border in the form of Glacier National Park in Montana. Wateron Lake’s popular catchphrase is, “Where the prairie meets the mountains.” It’s true; the grassy lands roll right up to the towering rocky hills. Interestingly, the first oil drilled in western Canada was drilled at Waterton Lake (around the turn of the century.)

Matthias, Conrad and I followed the Akamina Parkway out of Waterton town for about 5 miles to the west to a trailhead at Rowe Creek. The trail set off through the forest to a branch where we could follow the trail to Upper or Lower Rowe Lakes. We chose Upper and continued through a meadow, then switchbacks up to the lake. The trail was about 4.5 miles one way. We ate our packed lunch (ham & cheese sandwiches, trail mix) and rested in the grass, then followed the shore of Upper Rowe for a short ways to a creek that flowed out of the lake down to a smaller lake. We walked around the smaller lake, then down a dry creek bed at the end of which was a cliff with a stunning view of the Rowe River Valley and, straight below us, Lower Rowe Lake.

We returned to the car about 4.5 hours after we left it. We drove further west along the parkway to Cameron Lake, but were turned off by the large packs of people milling around so we headed back to town.

The weather was hot and sunny all day. We were tired and sweaty following our hike, so we ponied up for a $2 shower at the recreation center at Waterton Lakes Lodge. Following that, Matthias emailed while I scarfed down delicious triple chocolate fudge ice cream and made a couple of phone calls.

We returned to our hot windy campsite where we started a fire. I read the National Post while Matthias worked on a novel. For the first time ever, a sudoku puzzle stumped me. I turned it over to Matthias, but he didn’t fare any better. So we burned it in the fire. We fired up a two-course dinner consisting of Matthias’ famed Insalata Caprese and canned ravioli. I sorted through the days pictures before crawling into the tent for the night.

We planned to do a day hike to Crypt Lake, one of the park’s most popular hikes, the next day.

Head-Smashed-In

Matthias seemed to have kicked his jetlag with one night’s rest; we were up about 7:00 AM and enjoyed breakfast in the hotel lobby. We then packed and got directions to Wholesale Sports in Calgary before rolling out of the hotel towards downtown and the Glenbow Museum. Downtown Calgary was nice, although it felt a bit deserted. We parked next to the museum and walked along the pedestrians-only Stephen Avenue. We peeked into a couple of the shopping malls and took the elevator up to the third floor of one of the downtown malls to have a look around the Devonian Botanical Gardens, a glass enclosed garden complete with fish ponds and a glass ceiling about that allowed a view of the steel skyscrapers above and around us. We fed our caffeine monkeys at Starbucks.

As we strolled back toward the museum, we decided that primarily due to the great weather, today wouldn’t be a museum day after all. I think we just both wanted to head south to see Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump and the push on to Waterton Lake National Park. We struck out finding a camping chair for Matthias at Wholesale Sports, but crossed the street to stock up on groceries at “The Real Canadian Wholesale Club”, which is like Sam’s Club or Costco, but without the membership fee. They didn’t accept credit cards and wanted to charge us four cents for each plastic bag we used to carry our groceries out to the car. We saved nearly a quarter by loading all of our groceries onto a flat-bed push cart.

On our way out of Calgary, we stopped at Heritage Park, but again, the wilderness was calling, so we took a look inside and decided to skip that one too. So we cruised south out of Calgary on Highway 2 and exited to the west on Highway 785 towards Head-Smashed-In.

Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump is a UNESCO World Heritage Site that provides information on the history and culture of the Blackfoot nation and how they used this particular location – on the plain near a precipice - to drive buffalo to stampede over the cliff to their death below where the Blackfoot would in some way utilize all of the parts of the buffalo. The site is impressively built into the cliff. The name comes from the legend of a young brave who, about 170 years ago, wanted to watch the buffalo stampede over this cliff. He took a position under a ledge at the base of the cliff, like a man standing behind a waterfall. The buffalo jump was particularly good that day and as the buffalo piled up, they smashed in the poor brave’s head.

At the information center just behind the entrance gate, a girl robotically pointed out to Matthias and I the exact path we should follow through the exhibit. We rode the elevator to the top, visited the cliff, then walked down 4 stories through exhibits chronicling the history of the buffalo and their intertwined history with the Blackfoot.

Instead of going back to Highway 2, I decided to continue along 785. The asphalt promptly turned into loose mounds of gravel, so the going was slow, but we pushed on. We passed through hay fields and around several wind farms in which huge windmills were collecting power from the wind. Finally we rejoined the road to Waterton Lake on Highway 3. A few kilometers short of the park, we stopped for a very late lunch (at about 5:00 PM) at a spot on top of a hill with a great view of the park.

The camping gods were smiling down upon us and rewarded us with the last tent site at Crandell Campgrounds. Just inside the park, a black bear sprinted across the path of the car. It was funny to watch and listen to Matthias scramble to get his camera out to capture the sight. Our tent site was not shaded and didn’t include a fire pit, but no matter – we were happy to be there. We unpacked and erected the tent. Then we set off for a quick 2-mile round trip up to Crandell Lake. We did our bear calls on the way up and on the way back, Matthias filled is plastic water bottle with rocks and shook it like a rattle to scare off the bears.

We had the most delicious dinner; while I prepared an instant parmesan pasta packet (my specialty), Matthias concocted Insalata Caprese – tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, olive oil, vinegar, oregano and pepper. We topped it off with tea and Swiss chocolates Matthias had brought me from Switzerland. We tidied up camp, reviewed the day's pictures, and went to bed.

We were looking forward to a hike the next day.

Kings of Calgary

The rain didn’t help to dry my clothes during the night, but it did help to dissipate the humid air. The air was cool and dry this morning as I spent a while reorganizing the car to make room for Matthias. I was sad to leave my nice tent site, but I was looking forward to pushing on to Calgary to pick up my old buddy.

I headed south out of Lake Louise along the Bow River Parkway, an alternate route that runs parallel to Highway 93, then Highway 1, to Banff. The trees were closer to the highway and the road was much narrower so my speed was much slower, but the drive was nonetheless beautiful. I passed right by a multi-point buck as I drove. I turned off into the town of Canmore just as the highway bent to the east towards Calgary to ask a staffer at the visitor center where I could find a place to wash and vacuum my car. She gave me a map and told me all about my car-washing options in Canmore. I gave Conrad one final scrubbing before I drove to Calgary.

I lunched at McDonalds in West Calgary as I gazed across the freeway at the enormous ski jump which was used during the 1988 Olympics, then I drove to the airport to scout out hotels in the vicinity; I booked a place at the Best Western Airport. It is clean, the staff is courteous, and the beds are flat and firm. That gets five stars from me. Tonight would be my first night in a hotel bed since June and I was looking forward to it. I checked into cyberspace for a few minutes before I left for the airport.

Just as I was walking into the Calgary International Airport, the power in the entire complex went out. The lower level of the terminal was pitch black. People stopped walking and talking and you could have heard a pin drop. My first thought was that something sinister was happening. The auxiliary power kicked in after about 20 seconds and I heard a woman behind a car rental counter complain that that was the fourth time that’s happened in the last month due to some ongoing construction around the terminal.

That 20-second power outage would affect the flight traffic for the rest of the day. The computer systems went down, the escalators and elevators stopped working, and for a brief while the baggage carousel system was down. Flights backed up, and Matthias’ arrived about an hour later than scheduled.

But finally he arrived! He had endured a long flight from Frankfurt, but was nevertheless upbeat. It was great to see him. We cruised back to the hotel as we started getting caught up on our lives. We spent a while viewing pictures of his recent trip to Italy (and by recent, I mean very recent - he was there Friday, Saturday, and Sunday and today is Monday) and his 2003 trip to Alberta and British Columbia. We compared notes on a few of the places we visited that we had in common. Neither of us was very hungry, but we decided to go out in search of dinner. We drove in the car, it turned out, across the street to Denny’s. He had a chicken salad while I had the All-American Slam breakfast. Mmm, good.

By the time we got back to the hotel, it was about 6:00 AM Swiss time. Matthias climbed into the sack and I wrote my journal.

Columbia Icefield, Moraine Lake

I woke up this morning because the sun was so high it was heating up the tent. I had slept very well. Hiking, I decided, would wait until the evening. I climbed into the car and headed back to the north on Highway 93 for about 80 miles towards the Columbia Icefield and Athabasca Glacier.

The Columbia Icefield is situated among the peaks of the craggly Canadian Rockies. About 30 glaciers flow outward from the icefield, including the Athabasca. The icefield is the largest in the Rockies and feeds many of the surrounding river systems, including the Columbia. I wouldn’t actually visit the icefield; that would take a day or two with either a guide or a lot of luck so as not to fall into a crevice on the ascent. So I first visited the Icefield Center, which seemed more like a modern airport terminal than a visitors’ center. Bustling with tourists, the climate controlled building contained numerous ways to spend money, information video screens, and electronic signs indicating departure times for the “snocoaches” – large ATVs – departing for Athabasca Glacier every 15 minutes or so. These snocoaches are monsters and cost nearly $500,000 each.

The Icefield Center also contained a nice museum/exhibit containing more information on the natural and human histories of the icefield. I especially liked the hand-carved oak sign that once marked the boundary between Jasper and Banff national parks. It was carved by Hans Mauer in the 1940’s while he was working at an Alternate Service work camp for people who wanted to serve their country, but were conscientious objectors to WWII. Also on display was interesting time-lapse video of glacier movement and erosion.

I drove to near the foot of the Athabasca Glacier and hiked a short distance the rest of the way. It was cool and very windy at the base. The short hike included many signs identifying the dangers of falling into a glacier crevice. In a nutshell, hypothermia sets in within minutes and then you die. The last three people who slipped into a crevice in the area perished – including one boy who only 5 years ago slipped in just meters from the path. I got the point and stayed within the designated hiking boundaries.

It was a nice visit, but I had several things I wanted to do during the day, including laundry, blogging, and a hike around Moraine Lake, near Lake Louise. I also needed to clear a spot in Conrad for both Matthias and his gear as I would be picking him up in Calgary the next day. I returned to town, purchased an ice cream sandwich and a 24-hr wifi pass at The Depot. Then I visited the Lake Louise Inn to do my laundry. There was a waiting line. Arghhh!!! And the dryer didn’t dry. Double Arghhh!!!

I left with damp clothes in my laundry bag, but all of my worries disappeared when I caught my first glimpse of Moraine Lake, about 7 miles beyond Lake Louise. I don’t know if it was because the sun was setting or nearly all of the tourists had gone, but Moraine Lake became my favorite spot in Banff NP. The setting was perfect and the air temperature just right for a two mile hike to the other side of the lake and back.

I returned to camp, hung out my wet clothes to dry, fixed supper, and then headed back into Lake Louise village to post this blog entry. I expect that I’ll return to camp for a shower, then sleep.

The Tea Houses of Lake Louise

Wanting to get a jump on the day, as high temperatures were expected, I left camp early to drive up to Lake Louise. (I had been staying in the village of the same name, now I was going to the lake itself.) Tourists were already swarming when I arrived, but the sun was still low – and behind me as I looked to the lake – so I took a lot of pictures. I had mapped out my course the previous day. I was looking forward to a long day of hiking. I took the trail around the north side of the lake. Within a half-mile, the crowds had thinned out and only we hikers were left. The trail ascended up to Plain of the Six Glaciers – the glaciers that feed the lake – and I followed it. I wasn’t sure if I saw all six glaciers, because some of them may have been hidden under rocks and gravel, but I did see Victoria Glacier, the principle glacier. I was surprised at the number of people at tea house at the base of the glaciers. There were more people out and about than I thought! After a brief stop at the tea house, I climbed above the tree line to the end of the valley and then I scampered up a rock pile to a chilly waterfall.

I followed the same trail part of the way back to the lake – until it veered to the north towards Big Beehive Mountain and Lake Agnes. Big Beehive got its name from its appearance – it looks like a big beehive – not from an abundance of black and yellow stinging insects on the hill. I huffed and puffed up the backside of the Beehive and was rewarded with a stunning view of Lake Louise, Lake Agnes, and the entire valley. I visited the charming Lake Agnes tea house on my descent to Lake Louise. Unfortunately, I accidentally deleted these pictures later in the day. Doh!

I was very tired by the end of the hike. In all, it was only about 11 miles, but it took me six hours! I had planned a 13-miler the next day. I stumbled down the hill from Lake Agnes and back to the car. I went back into the village and my lavish Banff tendencies must have crept in for a moment when I paid $6 for a single scoop of ice cream. I stopped at the Visitor Center to learn more about the hike I had planned the next day. I had heard a rumor – which proved to be true – that hikers were only allowed to walk the 13 mile trail from Lake Morraine to Lake Louise in groups of 6 or more, because there were a lot of bears in the area. The reasoning was that 6 people make a lot of noise that would keep the bears away. There was a very informal process by which people (usually singles or couples) interested in hiking through these restricted areas were posting their names and telephone numbers and the dates, times, and hikes they were interested in on a bulletin board outside the visitor center in hopes of getting a group of 6 or more together. I considered pursuing that option, but decided that surely there were hikes in the area the required less hassle.

I had a mocha and typed 1.5 days of blogs at a café in the village. I took care of a couple of administrative issues (car wash, shower, ice for the cooler) and returned to camp for dinner. As I heated my chicken fettuccini pasta packet, I fondly recalled the Bison tenderloin from the night before.

Banff Extravaganza

I woke early and was back on the highway by 7:00 AM. I washed down a Poptart with Sunny-D as I cruised. Because it was the weekend and the middle of the summer, I expected available campsites around Lake Louise and Banff to be scarce. This early in the morning, the busy Highway 93 was relatively RV-free, so I made good time. I rolled into Lake Louise village about 9:30 and drove into a line full of vehicles outside Lake Louise’s 210-site tent-only campground. I didn’t have to wait long; They had a spot for me. I booked a campsite for 3 nights.

The grounds are encircled by a 7000 volt electric fence to keep out the bears and other big furry creatures. I am sure it is also very effective for keeping the humans from wandering into the surrounding woods and into the arms of hungry bears. For such a large drive-in campground, I was impressed with the cleanliness and relative privacy of the sites which are separated by tall pines.

Lately, I’ve been using my campsite only for cooking and sleeping, unlike many others who hang out there drinking, building fires, and generally relaxing (which is also very nice.) The bugs aren’t too pesky here and I was tempted to just build a fire and sit around my campsite all day. But, I departed the site as soon as I erected my tent and returned to the north about 30 miles on Highway 93 to Peyto Lake, one of the many glacial lakes in the region where I was sure to get a good view and pictures. The silty blue lake was approximately the color of the sky. I took some shots of the lake, and then climbed up into the hill for a hike above the tree line. My guidebook, as well as my parents who visited the area a couple of years ago, told me that despite all of the crowds in the Banff/Lake Louise area, it was easy to find solitude by just walking on a trail away from the main attractions. I found this to be exactly right at Peyto Lake. I saw exactly two other souls during my 1.5-hour hike.

The air temp was heating quickly. Instead of fighting for a parking spot at trailheads and wandering the hills in the heat of the day, I opted to return to the south, past my campsite at Lake Louise and into Banff. Banff was built by the Canadian Pacific Railway in the early 1900’s for the sole purpose of creating a destination to which wealthy tourists would want to ride the train. The town grew around the health spa.

My day in Banff turned out to be a tour de extravagance. I found street parking along the busy Banff Avenue and scurried into the visitor center to ask about wifi access. The nice lady pointed me across the street to the Starbucks. I sucked down a mocha Frappacino as I blogged and emailed. Then I walked around downtown Banff a bit. It is filled with shops and is quite charming. As I was out of mac and cheese back at camp, I popped into the Maple Leaf Grille and Spirits to peruse the menu. It contained descriptions of many tasty dishes, so I made a reservation for 8:00 PM and then drove up the hill for a soak in the Banff Hot Springs, my third hot springs experience in 5 days, and the best one so far.

Prune-ish, I drove back into town for dinner. I sat at the window and watched the busy tourists shop and frolic. I ordered the Back Country Bison Tenderloin. It was prepared wrapped in double-smoked bacon, topped with Quebec bleu cheese, and served with potatoes au gratin and vegetables in a red wine reduction. Holy Moses, it was good.

Rolling out of the restaurant, I drove back up the hill to the famous Banff Springs Hotel for a drink in the timeless Rundel Lounge. I sipped a Mist on the Rocks – Glenmorangle single malt scotch and Drambuie as I sat at the large window overlooking the large patio, golf course, and the large valley beyond – while the sun set.

Then I left my brief rich-and-famous lifestyle behind as I drove north to my tent at Lake Louise.

The Trails of Jasper

Despite all of the exercise the day before, it was a restless night of not sleeping. The last time I peeked at my indiglo watch, it was 1:30 in the morning. Not sure why that happened. Maybe it was the loud bus idling at 11:30. I was a little cranky when I rolled out of my sleeping bag at 7:00 AM, but then I remembered Kook, who slept with the mosquitoes on the top of kayaks so the mice wouldn't run over him in the Broken Islands.

I fired up some oatmeal, then took a shower. I went back into Jasper to upload the previous day's blog and I made arrangements to visit the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness with Matthias for three nights beginning August 6th. Trying to find an entry permit in the Boundary Waters this late into the busy season is like trying to find a diamond in a glacier. I snatched the last one on a lake near Ely, Minnesota. Forest fires are raging in the BWCAW right now following a blow-down windstorm back in 1999. With luck, the fires won't affect our plans. Unfortunately, the fires are within one or two miles of affecting other peoples' lives; There has been talk of evacuation of certain areas.

I called an outfitter in Ely to reserve a canoe, packs and a bear rope to tie our food in the trees. (But if those wimpy Minnesota bears know what's good for 'em they won't mess with me; I've played with the Alaskan grizzlies...)

I had a coffee at the same place as the day before - I took note this time - it's called the Soft Rock Cafe and they make great java. I had my day all dialed up; I would do two hikes in two different areas. From downtown Jasper, I drove south just a few miles on highway 93 where I turned off to the west towards Mt. Edith Cavell. Conrad and I climbed a switchback-filled road for about 8 miles to the base of the mountain near a glacier of the same name. The mountain is named after a British nurse from WWI who was executed by the Germans for shuttling about 200 Belgian POWs out of hospitals. I hiked the Path of the Glacier Loop, which brought me closest to the glacier and the ice-filled pond at the bottom of it, and I hiked the Cavell Meadows Trail for about 7 miles which led me through a forest, then the meadows, and on up above the tree line for a good view of the surrounding valley and the glacier. As I descended, I watched and listened to pieces of the glacier crack and rumble down the hill.

I drove back to the highway, then turned again to the south for only a mile. I parked the near the Valley of the Five Lakes. The loop trail was 3 miles round-trip and brought me by all five lakes. I stopped for pictures at a couple of particularly scenic spots above the emerald green lakes. The air temperature really heated up during the day. I guess it reached 85 degrees. I was dusty, hot, stinky and sore by the time I got back to the car. I drove back into town to shop for groceries. I returned to camp and fixed the last of the macaroni and cheese packets I had purchased at Costco in Minnesota in May. I wondered what I would eat for supper in the future? These are the difficult choices I face each day. I took another shower, wrote in my journal, and hit the hay.

Jasper National Park

Reluctantly, I packed up my gear and left the campsite at Miette. (BTW, the campsite is officially called 'Pocahontas'.) I could have stayed another day or two, but the hiking and exploring further to the south in Jasper beckoned. The nice campsite attendant let me borrow her hiking book on Jasper the night before, so I had identified some potential trails. She also advised me that I shouldn't worry too much about finding campsites. Tenters usually don't have problems finding sites, but the RV'ers do, she explained. Nevertheless, I wanted to find this night's accommodations earlier rather than later.

Due to a minor miscalculation, my "gas tank empty" light come on about 30 miles outside of Jasper Town. I sweated bullets and rode fumes to the Esso on the edge of town where I paid dearly to refill the tank. From the pump station, I drove a mile south of town to Whistlers Campground and reserved one of their 781 campsites for two nights. Just as the campground attendant had told me, the place was full save for the tent sites. Jasper was crawling with people. I did my best to blend in and walked the street for a while with my best expression of contentment and wonderment on my face. I uploaded the previous days' blogs at an internet cafe and then had a coffee along the main street while I mapped out the next few days. I would roll on to Banff on Friday morning...

There were nothing but sunny skies around Jasper and I was very appreciative of it. I had seen a lot of rain in Alaska. It is amazing how much the weather affects one's mood, especially when one spends so much time in it. I did a quick calculation: I have slept in the tent for the past 21 days. The night of June 27th was the last time I slept in a bed with a roof overhead. I wonder what is the record?

I back-tracked a couple of miles towards Miette, then to the east on Maligne Lake Road. I followed this heavenly highway for about 30 miles, past the scenic Medicine Lake and all of the pine trees. As I was crossing a river flowing into Maligne Lake, I looked over the bridge and noticed a moose preparing (it turned out) to cross. I pulled over and took a lot of pictures. I've discovered that taking good pictures means taking a lot of pictures. Thankfully, digital photography makes it possible.

I parked the car a few yards down the road and set off on the Skyline Trail which runs about 32 miles across the park. I ticked off 12 of those miles on an up-and-back hike from Maligne Lake up to Little Shovel. It was a great hike and I was pooped when I returned to the car. After all that driving, finally I was getting some exercise! By the time I returned to the lake, nearly all of the other tourists had left. I had the place to myself. I made a few calls from the payphone, then headed down the road to my campsite.

Thai noodles and tuna for dinner. Girl Scout cookies for dessert. Whoa.

Buckinghorse River to Jasper!

I jumped back on the road this morning and it was if I had never left it. I am in the groove and I can just drive and drive. The rain fell off and on throughout the day as I continued south on Highway 97 to Dawson Creek, mile "0" of the Alaska Highway. From Dawson Creek I briefly rode Highway 2 to the Alberta border where the road turned into Highway 43, which I rode to Grand Prairie.

I was intrigued by Grand Prairie. Back in the Yukon, while stopped on the highway waiting for road construction machinery to clear ahead of me, I quizzed a flagger all about her history and aspirations. Her current objective, she explained, was to finish college and then move to Grand Prairie for a high-paying job. She told me that fast-food workers earned $20 per hour (US$18) flipping burgers in GP. Why? Due to rising oil prices, she continued. Companies were ramping up their efforts to locate and extract more and more of the oil from the Albertan oil sands. Before now, these companies were aware of the reserves, but it was generally considered too costly to extract and refine this sour crude. With the rising oil prices, it was becoming more worthwhile to dig it up. These companies couldn't find workers fast enough and were starting to import labor from India. Having worked for a while in the oil industry, I knew a little bit about the Alberta oil sands. I was pretty astounded at what I saw in Grand Prairie. There were new apartments and condos erected in the plains. There was lot of fresh black earth being pushed all around. Many of the roads along the highway were being updated. All of the modern stores were represented off of the highway. Construction was everywhere. I even saw a group of Indians when I visited McDonalds. As I turned south on Highway 40 (aka the Bighorn Highway) towards Jasper National Park, I passed countless wide-load trailers with payloads that included buildings, drills, cranes, and other unidentified machinery. It seems like Grand Prairie is the new land of opportunity. As I left the town, it occurred to me that maybe I was heading in the wrong direction...

But then Jasper came into view a few hours later. It is the largest national park in the Canadian Rockies. I was looking forward to spending a couple of days here, then moving just a little to the south to Banff. No more (significant) driving for a while! I did the math at the entrance to the park and decided it was economical to purchase a season pass to the Canadian National Parks. It would get me into Jasper, Banff, and Waterton Lake.

I had vowed to plan ahead to avoid being shutout at any campsites during this busy season, but to reserve a spot in the Canadian National Parks is costly. So I was winging it. I rode Highway 16 (aka the Yellowhead Highway) west into Jasper and turned to the southeast towards Miette Hot Springs. I found a campsite at Miette surrounded by tall pines and erected my tent. Then I headed further up the hill towards the hot springs. The place was crowded but uber-clean and the setting was perfect. The air temperature was about 65 degrees, the sun was setting, and I was surrounded by trees and mountains. I let the hot water soak into my atrophic muscles, then I topped off the night with a shave and a shower, before returning to update my journal and go to sleep.

Teslin Lake to Buckinghorse River

I think I saw more wildlife from my car while driving the Alaska Highway today than I have seen at any other time during the trip. I saw many deer and several caribou, a black bear, two grizzly bear cubs, and a moose with her calf.

A few miles east of my Teslin Lake campsite, the road dipped briefly into British Columbia, then back into the Yukon. I had traveled this stretch of road once already after I came north on the Stewart-Cassiar Highway back on July 1. I peered south down that highway as I passed it and then I entered Watson Lake. I stopped to marvel at the Signpost Forest (which was started with one sign in 1942 and now contains over 50,000) and walk through a display on the construction of the Alaska Highway at the Visitor Information Center. Out of Watson Lake, the road dipped again into BC, back into Yukon, then descended for the final time into BC. The road wound through the northern-most edge of the Rocky Mountains on the way to Fort Nelson. Had I known in advance how beautiful is Muncho Lake Provincial Park, I would have planned to spend a little time there. It's on the list for next time!

At the Yukon/BC border, Highway 1 turned into Highway 97 (both are the Alaska Highway). I followed the highway south until I got tired and pulled over at Buckinghorse River Provincial Park. I erected the tent in the rain and spent some time reviewing pictures and writing in my journal. I am burning about 10 calories a day while I am driving, so I haven't had much of an appetite. I skipped supper and hit the sack.