Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Hailstone Butte With Tru
Tru and I have been talking about this one for awhile. She once lamented not being able to get much hiking in, despite living here next to the mountains for a couple of decades. Hailstone was the first one I thought of taking her to, since her level of fitness is so up to the challenge.
We were parked at The Hump by about 10:00. That's the highest point on the secondary road between highways 22 and 940, that runs right by this hike. Across the road, by the way, is Windy Peaks Ridge, the first ever hike that I wrote about here. We started up the valley at a brisk pace, while the temperature rose under clear sunny skies.
Within an hour we had reached the saddle at the top, that looked to the northeast toward a horizon that seemed to be a thousand miles away. Before us was the valley we had driven through, and a steep slope of what looked to be plain old dirt. There was a path across it farther up, and we climbed to that, and crossed to the rocky peak on the other side.
This peak was pretty craggy, and very accessible from the far side. We climbed up and sat for awhile, taking in a view that started literally at our feet. We were on a peak that fell away vertically before us, down to the road that was probably 400 metres below.
As we started up again, Cleo the dog from the fire lookout was watching us from the top, peering over the cliff with her tail wagging wildly. In front of us was a broad meadow stretching gently northward toward the supply road that went up to the top. We headed that way, through soft grassy ground and jumbled rocks. Once on the road, we followed it to a switchback, and then along the ridge to the fire lookout.
Cleo met us with some kind of bean bag toy that she dropped at my feet. So I threw it down the road for her to chase. She brought it back and dropped it in front of Tru this time. Tru threw it for her, and after she retrieved it, she carried it back to the lookout. I guess that was our welcome.
The fire warden came out to say hi, and we chatted for awhile. The building was apprently just completed to replace the former structure that had been there since the 70s. He was still unpacking and moving in. We sat on the edge of the cliff and talked, and Cleo moved among us looking for ear scratches and head rubs. Tru's affinity for animals drew her most of the dog kisses (bleah!).
The fire lookouts all have a helicopter pads, but Hailstone is unique. The ranger living there has created an amazing mosaic out of all the loose rock out there. It's a huge circle, with an arrow that points northward. He had dug out the ground to lay the rock in, and it was almost like an intricate patio.
After saying good day, Tru and I headed along the ridge to the south for a couple of hundred metres, to a shortcut scramble. This went down a series of ledges that runs along the east side of the ridge, to a gap in the last ledge, where we could climb down the last three metres or so.
From there it was all down hill. After descending about a hundred metres or so, we sat on a big rock and dug out our snacks. Still beautiful and cloudless, just a light breeze, and nothing but us and the sun and the silence.
After a few moments, we continued on downslope,and 20 minutes later, we were back at the car. And after a dusty drive back to pavement, we headed to the city, and Tru's deck for brews and snacks.
We were parked at The Hump by about 10:00. That's the highest point on the secondary road between highways 22 and 940, that runs right by this hike. Across the road, by the way, is Windy Peaks Ridge, the first ever hike that I wrote about here. We started up the valley at a brisk pace, while the temperature rose under clear sunny skies.
Within an hour we had reached the saddle at the top, that looked to the northeast toward a horizon that seemed to be a thousand miles away. Before us was the valley we had driven through, and a steep slope of what looked to be plain old dirt. There was a path across it farther up, and we climbed to that, and crossed to the rocky peak on the other side.
This peak was pretty craggy, and very accessible from the far side. We climbed up and sat for awhile, taking in a view that started literally at our feet. We were on a peak that fell away vertically before us, down to the road that was probably 400 metres below.
As we started up again, Cleo the dog from the fire lookout was watching us from the top, peering over the cliff with her tail wagging wildly. In front of us was a broad meadow stretching gently northward toward the supply road that went up to the top. We headed that way, through soft grassy ground and jumbled rocks. Once on the road, we followed it to a switchback, and then along the ridge to the fire lookout.
Cleo met us with some kind of bean bag toy that she dropped at my feet. So I threw it down the road for her to chase. She brought it back and dropped it in front of Tru this time. Tru threw it for her, and after she retrieved it, she carried it back to the lookout. I guess that was our welcome.
The fire warden came out to say hi, and we chatted for awhile. The building was apprently just completed to replace the former structure that had been there since the 70s. He was still unpacking and moving in. We sat on the edge of the cliff and talked, and Cleo moved among us looking for ear scratches and head rubs. Tru's affinity for animals drew her most of the dog kisses (bleah!).
The fire lookouts all have a helicopter pads, but Hailstone is unique. The ranger living there has created an amazing mosaic out of all the loose rock out there. It's a huge circle, with an arrow that points northward. He had dug out the ground to lay the rock in, and it was almost like an intricate patio.
After saying good day, Tru and I headed along the ridge to the south for a couple of hundred metres, to a shortcut scramble. This went down a series of ledges that runs along the east side of the ridge, to a gap in the last ledge, where we could climb down the last three metres or so.
From there it was all down hill. After descending about a hundred metres or so, we sat on a big rock and dug out our snacks. Still beautiful and cloudless, just a light breeze, and nothing but us and the sun and the silence.
After a few moments, we continued on downslope,and 20 minutes later, we were back at the car. And after a dusty drive back to pavement, we headed to the city, and Tru's deck for brews and snacks.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Grotto Revisited
This was another hike that I thought would be fun for a group. This time we had a couple more people join us. Along with Carla, Erin, Peter-Mark and I, we had Erin's daughter and her friend with us, and Tacey managed to take some time from work and organizing her new home.
Tacey and I drove out to the trailhead, right on highway 1A, a few miles out of Canmore. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and we sat by Grotto Pond, a small lake beside the picnic area where the trail starts. We were soon joined by the rest and we headed off up the trail.
We wandered up the trail as it parallels the highway, to the stream bed that leads into the canyon itself. The day was warm and sunny, and it was rather nice to get into the coolness of the shade in the canyon. We were out late enough in the morning, though, that the sun could reach into parts of it.
The stream was doing its usual burbling in and out of the rocks, and falling over boulders and into pools, deliciously cold and clear (but probably not quite drinkable). We came on a couple of climbers getting ready to tackle one of the sheer rock faces that line the canyon, and lent them some bug repellant. Mosquitoes were not too bad, but they were present, and would find you if you stopped moving for a moment.
At that time of day, it was reasonably deserted. There was a young family a few yard behind us with three or four children, but that was it apart from the climbers. Carla, Peter-Mark and I climbed up to the waterfall for a moment to check it out. It's such a peaceful spot, but there's not a lot to keep you from sliding back down the slippery rock. We didn't stay long.
At this point, Erin and her charges decided to head back, while the rest of us continued up the streambed. We stopped at the point around the bend, just where the sound of the waterfall wasn't quite audible, and experienced the astounding silence that gives the place a bit of a mystical quality. A little farther on, and the canyon opens up to a still narrow valley, and we continued until we came in sight of the hoodoos, where we stopped for a snack.
Then we headed back, and began to meet more people out to explore the canyon. We passed a couple of groups moving up the streambed. We stopped at the sheer rock wall at the T intersection near the waterfall, and Carla and I stood under the light spray of water leaking out of a crack in the rock wall that was maybe forty fee up.
Heading down, we came on a small group who were admiring the petroglyphs. This was the first time I had seen them, and I had thought they were farther up, around the bend in the area were we experienced the silence. The petroglyphs were few, and had faded badly, but were still quite visible. You can get more information about them here.
As we continued from the petroglyphs we met a large group, of almost a hundred high school age kids hiking up the canyon. So we were just missing the rush hour. And within the hour we were in Canmore having beer and burgers again.
Tacey and I drove out to the trailhead, right on highway 1A, a few miles out of Canmore. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and we sat by Grotto Pond, a small lake beside the picnic area where the trail starts. We were soon joined by the rest and we headed off up the trail.
We wandered up the trail as it parallels the highway, to the stream bed that leads into the canyon itself. The day was warm and sunny, and it was rather nice to get into the coolness of the shade in the canyon. We were out late enough in the morning, though, that the sun could reach into parts of it.
The stream was doing its usual burbling in and out of the rocks, and falling over boulders and into pools, deliciously cold and clear (but probably not quite drinkable). We came on a couple of climbers getting ready to tackle one of the sheer rock faces that line the canyon, and lent them some bug repellant. Mosquitoes were not too bad, but they were present, and would find you if you stopped moving for a moment.
At that time of day, it was reasonably deserted. There was a young family a few yard behind us with three or four children, but that was it apart from the climbers. Carla, Peter-Mark and I climbed up to the waterfall for a moment to check it out. It's such a peaceful spot, but there's not a lot to keep you from sliding back down the slippery rock. We didn't stay long.
At this point, Erin and her charges decided to head back, while the rest of us continued up the streambed. We stopped at the point around the bend, just where the sound of the waterfall wasn't quite audible, and experienced the astounding silence that gives the place a bit of a mystical quality. A little farther on, and the canyon opens up to a still narrow valley, and we continued until we came in sight of the hoodoos, where we stopped for a snack.
Then we headed back, and began to meet more people out to explore the canyon. We passed a couple of groups moving up the streambed. We stopped at the sheer rock wall at the T intersection near the waterfall, and Carla and I stood under the light spray of water leaking out of a crack in the rock wall that was maybe forty fee up.
Heading down, we came on a small group who were admiring the petroglyphs. This was the first time I had seen them, and I had thought they were farther up, around the bend in the area were we experienced the silence. The petroglyphs were few, and had faded badly, but were still quite visible. You can get more information about them here.
As we continued from the petroglyphs we met a large group, of almost a hundred high school age kids hiking up the canyon. So we were just missing the rush hour. And within the hour we were in Canmore having beer and burgers again.
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