The links below offer the personal experiences of bright, curious, adventuresome folks who regularly attend Fall High Adventure and Winter High Adventure.
* Paula Weber-Lohmeier - blog
CHARLENE’S THOUGHTS...
MY BELOVED MOUNTAINS AND THE FAIRMONT CHATEAU LAKE LOUISE
I love this place — this elegant, historic hotel, the turquoise blue water of Lake Louise, the electric brilliance of Victoria Glacier, the wild, unpredictable adventures that unfold on nearby hiking trails. I come to these mountains for intellectual stimulation, emotional serenity and physical challenge, often all in the same day.
These soaring peaks are the ruling force in this land. They trap weather systems, they alter sunrise and sunset, they hide the secret lives of wild creatures. No one, neither scientist nor old timer, knows everything that goes on in this land. On any day, on any trail, the curious adventurer can enjoy just a few threads of the daily mountain novel. Today you walk a trail and see an eagle. Tomorrow you retrace your steps and discover bear tracks and scat. On the third pass over the same ground, snow has changed the scene entirely. There is no sameness here. Everyday brings a new adventure. I call it magic!
To be part of the magic, you must let the mountains change you. Be flexible, “go with the flow”. If the mountains honor you with a magic trick, be willing to “tarry awhile”, as beloved guide Bruce Bembridge would say, and watch the show. Though you might have planned to be back to the hotel from your hike for a 4 PM class, don’t cut short the chance of a lifetime to lie down on your back at the top of Sentinel Pass to watch the clouds roll by in a bright blue Alberta sky. I’ll never forget the day we set out to make our second trip to Cirque Peak. Along the way, the famous Helen Lake grizzly bear revealed herself across the valley. We sat down at a safe distance and watched her for a long time. We didn’t bag a peak, but we surely had an adventure!
In wanderlust,
Charlene
AND WE’RE OFF!
Our hiking season kicked off this weekend with sublime weather. Under brilliant Alberta blue skies, we hiked the beloved Moraine Lake switch backs and out the Valley of Ten Peaks trail to Eiffel Lake. This year we actually located and memorized all ten peaks and can spout them off in order starting from Wenkchemna Pass.
Saturday evening we discreetly toasted the last rays of "alpine glow" on Mount LeFroy from the Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise boat dock before heading off to bath and bed. I promise, no one saw and we were very well behaved. Sunday we did the figure eight circuit to Mirror Lake, Plain of Six and the lip of the moraine beyond, Lake Agnes Tea House, back to Mirror Lake and Lake Louise. Victoria Glacier was right on time with her spectacular 11 AM show of snow avalanches continuing, with intermittent breaks, to mid afternoon. We were thrilled by the sight and sound of Victoria's cracking, groaning and shedding. We paid due homage to Lake Agnes through the time honored ritual...tea and apple crumble.
Back at the Chateau, we had the good fortune to run into the most colorful guy in the Bow Valley, Bruce Bembridge. A hug-a-neck and kiss from the mustache and we were off for home.
How lucky we are to live so close to paradise!
With wanderlust,
Charlene
HELEN LAKE MEADOWS AND BEYOND
Hiking in the Lake Louise area is like a fine complicated wine that keeps pumping out flavor the longer it's on your taste buds. Or a strong marriage of thirty-three years that keeps evolving into more profound stages. I LOVE THESE MOUNTAINS!
Sunday we were a group of five old friends doing an old favorite hike, Helen Lake. I've soldiered up Cirque Peak, I've run for my life out of Helen Lake Meadows with thunder and lightning on my tail, I've sat on a rock pile to watch the resident grizzly bear munch her way down the opposite side of the valley, but never before had I really paid much attention to Kathryn Lake, the larger, long, narrow lake beyond the high ridge. Wow! It’s a jewel.
Three of us were too hot to attack Cirque Peak and were just lolly gaging around waiting for the other two to bag the peak. From the ridge above Helen Lake, the distant plateau down around Kathryn Lake looked purple. We figured it was that maroon colored shale. No, it turned out to be the most lush meadow of wild flowers I've ever seen. On the approach to Kathryn, we found the world's largest Moss Campion. It was eye popping! It was technicolor! It was gigantic!
We toyed with the idea of skinny dipping until we observed that Kathryn makes a straight drop into the abyss just two feet off shore. Afraid of freezing up in water over our heads, we opted to walk around the lake to its outflow. We found a lovely stair step waterfall and peace. Each of us found a private spot to lie back and watch the clouds, marvel at the soaring Dolomite and track our friends grunting up and down Cirque Peak. The whistling marmots were in good voice throughout the day and while we were lounging, both an eagle and an osprey entertained us. The osprey sailed the updrafts with a huge fish in its claws. The prey was as long as his wing span! It looked like a aircraft with a pontoon!
We trudged reluctantly out of the meadows at day's end wishing we could stay on to see the stars and the magic of the night
What a joy. What a blessing.
With wanderlust,
Charlene
HIKING SEASON 2001
As always, my first hike of the summer season was tough. I felt like I was dragging an elephant behind me! My thighs burned, and I had to stop and catch my breath again and again on the steep switchbacks. My girlfriend, who already had a number of hikes under her belt, graciously waited for me without complaint. At Brustall Pass, we could see forever. A strong wind forced us to the ground where we lay on our backs to watch the circus in the clouds — here a bear, there the face of an old bearded man. Like children we were, up there in my mountains!
Perhaps you know that this is the year of The Great Bear. Well, truly, it has been a bear of a summer for me. At last fall’s High Adventure, I met Calgarians Lynn and Clem Feldmeyer who are avid hikers with many years of mountain experience. They were among a group of friends my husband and I invited on our annual pilgrimage to celebrate the alpine wild flowers high up in Helen Lake Meadows. Tramping across the meadows in single file to minimize damage to the delicate ecosystem, we heard Clem muse from the front of the line, “Is that a bear over there”? It was the famous Helen Lake grizzly bear, known to all but seen by few. She was a safe distance away on the slope just opposite us, across a ravine. Nervous marmots warned their compatriots with long, shrill, Navy sounding whistles. The bear saw us but paid no mind. With two pair of binoculars between six hikers, we all enjoyed close up observation of this glorious bear. For years, I’ve seen the digs where this bear unearthed a marmot meal. I’ve seen her scat droppings. What a thrill to finally watch her, for twenty minutes or so, lazily nibbling her way down the hill. When she finally dropped out of sight among the trees, we sat, ate lunch and waited, but, alas, there was no encore.
That was not my only run in with a bear. En route to Banff National Park for another hike, I narrowly missed hitting a mature black bear on the highway. When I first saw it bounding across three lanes of oncoming traffic, I thought it was a huge dog. By the time it got to the median, I knew I was on a collision course with a bear. Driving the speed limit at110 km per hour, I slowed slightly to avoid collision, but the car behind me was not so lucky. The bear was hit in the back flank and sprawled momentarily on the highway. Then, like a clumsy edit in a bad movie, the bear sprang to its feet and dashed across two more lanes of traffic and into the woods. I was astonished that there was no car crash. I was aghast at the suicidal charge this animal made, oblivious to heavy, high speed traffic. It was with heightened appreciation that I drove along the wildlife fence that borders most of the road within the park. It is necessary protection for man and beast.
Now, toward the end of Alberta’s hiking season, my hiking stamina is rebuilt and I relish High Adventure. I rejoice in our new found hike to the rocks overlooking Caldron Lake’s twin waterfalls. To the north we could enjoy the glorious peaks of Mount Noyes, Mount Weed and Silverhorn Mountain and within a stone’s throw to the south lay the blinding white ice of Peyto Glacier. We were on top of the world — literally! In the course of this hike, we trudged up and down the height of the Empire State Building four times! Since the trail dropped us down a thousand feet right from the get-go, we had to climb back up that distance at the very end of the hike— hot, tired and out of water. I went home and bought a second water bottle!
Lordy, I love these mountains and the adventures they hold. My mind is dazzled by the turquoise lakes, the aqua velva blue ice edging the massive white glaciers, the soaring peaks, the critters large and small. My senses are alert to the crisp, clean fir scented air, the piercing cold of glacial stream and the brilliant blue sky that separates the mountains. My spirit is renewed.
With wanderlust,
Charlene
2003 HIKING SEASON
What superb hiking we've enjoyed this season in the Canadian Rockies! Starting earlier in the spring than usual, we made the annual pilgrimage to the Plain of Six Glaciers. We set out early to make a side trip to our beloved Lake Agnes Tea House. As always, we stopped along the trail to look back at Lake Louise shimmering like a jewel in the distance. At another water break, we indulged in ritual again to name all the surrounding glaciers and peaks in view. On the porch of the teahouse, we sipped hot tea and enjoyed the sun. It struck me that morning, how much like an old favorite song this hike is to me. It's not a new challenge. I've done it many times. I don't expect to see anything new, though I sometimes do, and I still love it with all my heart.
With the diversion to Lake Agnes, our approach to the massive face of Victoria Glacier was timed perfectly. The sun had been blasting the glacier all morning and, as we approached just before noon, this most spectacular of the six glaciers, began to shed her winter coat. We saw avalanche after avalanche! The sense of power behind so much falling snow was sobering. And the sound was awesome! It was like a colossal freight yard with train cars clanking into each other to connect. We heard them first. Then our eyes scanned the scene to find them. Some lasted a long time! They became waterfalls of ice and snow. It was thrilling!
Toward the end of the season, I finally hiked the Iceline. For three years I've been trying to do that trail, but something always interfered. My persistence paid off big time! It's a spectacular hike requiring only moderate effort to get up to a ridge running right along the toe of Emerald Glacier which drapes over the top of the mountain above. The scene is stunning. The broad Yoho Valley stretches out in the distance between ranges of glacier speckled mountain peaks. Directly across a narrow valley at the Iceline, Takkakaw Falls literally explode out of the top of a mountain to crash to the valley floor thousands of feet below. At the Iceline, the world is silent. At the end of the hike near the falls, the roar is deafening. My spine was tingling all day long! Now that is what I call exciting!
On our last outing, one of our group became violently ill just twenty minutes into the hike; food poisoning I think. (No, it was not my cooking!) We aborted the hike and returned to the car where he brightened somewhat. We made our way to the nearby secluded shore of Peyto Lake where our recovering friend rested in the sun. The remaining three of us explored the wild lake shore. In a marshy inlet we discovered big, fresh bear prints. We tracked them through the marsh mud, shouting all the while, to warn any lingering bear. Suddenly, there it was, the scene of nature's drama - deep, perfect prints of moose intermingled with bear prints. Did the bear kill the moose earlier in the day or did they visit that spot at different times? My mind has played the scene of that possible scenario again and again. Even a cancelled hike is an adventure.
If you ever get the chance to visit my mountains, jump at the opportunity. Hiking is both my means and my reason to stay fit and active. Y'all come!
With wanderlust,
Charlene
CALDRON LAKE.....NEARLY
I hiked the route to Caldron Lake on Sunday and definitely got the feeling that the gods don't want me up there. I first hiked this route at the end of last season but balked at the death wish traverse across a steep scree slope above a thousand foot drop near the end of the trail to Caldron Lake. Since then, I have started the hike three times but aborted due to:
1 Jim's violent illness twenty minutes into the hike
2 Punishing rain just before the footbridge
3 Punishing rain and thunder just after the footbridge
This time we were four, one of whom was the infamous Bob Calvert who leaves all comers in the dust. He is as competitive in hiking as he is in the courtroom. It was a struggle to keep up with him especially on the steep, narrow lip of the moraine. I graciously told him the directions before we started the ascent. In retrospect, I could have had more control by dribbling out directions a little at a time. Note to self....keep Calvert in the dark, especially in bear habitat.
At the top, an "older" British couple were lounging on the rocks above the waterfall. Their friends had "gone on to Caldron Lake". Bob looked at these unlikely hikers and figured the traverse must not be so bad. He took his pole, handed me his pack and nonchalantly strolled across the scary slope. His teenage nephew looked at me and said, "Don't worry, Charlene. You know the man is a machine!"
We started our lunch in a warm wind and brilliant sunshine. We sat facing the glorious panorama of mountain peaks to the north Twin waterfalls crashed out of the cliff just to our left. Behind us stretched the blinding white, massive Peyto Glacier.
A while later, a young couple who started the hike right behind us and had stopped numerous times to rest along the way, appeared on the rocks near us. To our astonishment, they strolled, without a thought, out onto the traverse. Our eyes were glued on them. Three quarters of the way across, she, in the lead, (with shapeless limbs and little muscle mass) paused briefly, then slowly continued right on across. Gee, maybe that trail is wider this year. If she can do it.........
By the time I got to my blueberries, I needed a jacket. "Maybe we should be getting out of here" yelled the Brit, pointing south behind us. I turned around to see the mother of all storms moving in on us. Linda observed, "That system seems to be coming awfully fast." This unflappable Canadian is known for her understatement! Bob was still at Caldron Lake. "Damn it, Calvert, get your butt back here!"
As the Brits headed back, we threw the remainder of lunch in the packs and here came Calvert. "It's incredible! You've got to do it. It's good footing. You can do it!" We responded in chorus, "Next time, Bob. Have you seen the sky?!?!!" Bob agreed "Yep, I saw it from the lake. Let's go!"
We streaked out across the boulder field toward the moraine with strong winds whipping up behind us. We came upon the British contingent hunkered down under the south side of a clump of huge boulders. Linda and I joined them to wait for Bob who is slow on the descent nowadays due to the recent development of a loonie sized hole in his knee cartilage. The Brits were prepared to wait it out under the rock. Our group thought it better to negotiate the steep, narrow moraine before it got too wet.
We started the descent in light rain which made the footing better that it was bone dry, coming up. Then the sky opened — pounding rain and pelting hail. It was hilarious. Now, cue the thunder. The gods saying "Didn't I tell you not to come up here!?*?!*!
My adrenaline didn't really start pumping till the lightning started, and I had that darn metal pole in my hand! I FLEW, I mean FLEW, down that moraine.
Nervous about the descent while we were on the ascent, Linda was 15 yards behind me in rivetted concentration. Bob, the nephew and the Brits were nowhere to be seen.
How weird is this....it all suddenly stopped as soon as we hit the bottom of the moraine. The sun blasted our backs and the blackness flew on across the sky in front of us. Bob and the teen soon caught us.
Though we stopped after the bridge for Bob to eat lunch, the Brits and the young couple never appeared. Even when we got back across the out wash flats to the unwelcome thousand foot climb back to the parking lot, there was no sign of life behind us. Don't know. I presume they
finally made it back. Haven't heard any bad news in the press.
You should definitely do this hike. But maybe not with me. I may be jinxed.
With wanderlust,
Charlene