Saturday, May 12, 2007
Too Early For This One
This was an early season hike that was probably too early. My friend Jan has wanted to get out on a hike, and we've been talking about getting out there. Today was the day. I was hoping to find something reasonably memorable, but totally forgot to take into consideration the season. In my defense, I've never been out before July before, and had no idea what to expect.
I tried to pick a novel and reasonably challenging hike, so we headed to Black Prince Cirque Trail. This is one of those trails with the numbered posts that you can follow along with a pamphet that you are supposed to pick up from dispenser at the trail head, except that those dispensers are always empty.
As we pulled into the parking lot, several people were gearing up, with poles, packs, parkas and whatnot. There were twenty-five or thirty, all well equipped, and probably Japanese tourists. We waved and were on our way in minutes.
The path started nice, a shady forest path along the creek, to a bridge that crossed to the other side and seemed to backtrack for a long way. Then it pulled away from the creek to an old logging road.
At the bridge, there was snow. Lots of bare ground but well packed snow along the path too. On the logging road, the sunny side had some bare ground, but we were still on snow, mostly. It was hard and supported us nicely, so some initial misgivings faded as we continued. I was a little worried about getting into deep stuff that we would get mired in.
About half a kilometre in I realized I hadn't started my GPS, so some of the data below is fudged. The logging road was steeper than I expected, but we did well with the hard pack. At the end of the logging road there was a high-backed bench. Walking up to it, I realized I was standing on it, with at least a foot of snow on top of it. The back must have been really high to stick up as much as it did.
Around this point, we heard a distant rumble, and scanned the mountains ahead to find an avalanche. It looked like smoke drifting down the distant cliff, but the sound attested to something much, much more powerful. It was such an evisceral sound, even at the distance. Not loud, but I could feel it in my chest. We heard it a couple more times while we were there.
Continuing on, the path began to wind through the trees, and we could see how much snow there was. The ground around the trees was bare, but it was at least a couple of feet below what we were walking on. Old animal tracks confirmed the depth. Or not so old. What was probably an elk had been through, occasionally breaking through the crust. I would guess it passed through only a day or two before us.
The climb gentled after the bench, and for awhile we even descended, but with the snow becoming heavier. And then I broke through. I found myself in snow up to the hip, and probably not close to touching bottom. Luckily the crust was strong enough around me, that I was able to pull my leg out. I just did a quick measure, and I figure I was in about 80 cm.
Jan and I looked at each other. The day was warming, the crust was softening. Time to turn around before the path we'd already traveled became impassible. Looking at the GPS data, the distance from our turn-around point to the parking lot was 1.9 km. So we were withing 300 m of Warspite Lake. Close, but no cigar.
The descent was quick and easy, as descents usually are. We met the Japanese tourists about half way down the logging road. They had stopped to remove layers since the day was warming up. We did tell their guide that we were not able to make it to the lake, but that they could probably go some of the way up.
After we passed them we found that they had churned up the snow on the logging road a fair amount. We wondered if we should have suggested they abandon the trip.
Back at the parking lot, it was snack time. And stretch time. While we were standing and chatting, that far-away rumble came again, bigger this time, and with it a gust of wind that roared through the tree tops.
For all the snow and not being able to get to the end, I think this was a pretty good hike. It was a sparkling day, with a cloudless and incredibly blue sky. Good company adds so much. But it's a trail that I just might have to revisit.
Starting elevation: 1733 m (5686 feet).
Highest elevation: 1831 m (6007 feet).
Elevation gain: 98 m (321 feet).
Distance: 3.8 km (2.4 mi).
Time: 1:45 (estimated).
I tried to pick a novel and reasonably challenging hike, so we headed to Black Prince Cirque Trail. This is one of those trails with the numbered posts that you can follow along with a pamphet that you are supposed to pick up from dispenser at the trail head, except that those dispensers are always empty.
As we pulled into the parking lot, several people were gearing up, with poles, packs, parkas and whatnot. There were twenty-five or thirty, all well equipped, and probably Japanese tourists. We waved and were on our way in minutes.
The path started nice, a shady forest path along the creek, to a bridge that crossed to the other side and seemed to backtrack for a long way. Then it pulled away from the creek to an old logging road.
At the bridge, there was snow. Lots of bare ground but well packed snow along the path too. On the logging road, the sunny side had some bare ground, but we were still on snow, mostly. It was hard and supported us nicely, so some initial misgivings faded as we continued. I was a little worried about getting into deep stuff that we would get mired in.
About half a kilometre in I realized I hadn't started my GPS, so some of the data below is fudged. The logging road was steeper than I expected, but we did well with the hard pack. At the end of the logging road there was a high-backed bench. Walking up to it, I realized I was standing on it, with at least a foot of snow on top of it. The back must have been really high to stick up as much as it did.
Around this point, we heard a distant rumble, and scanned the mountains ahead to find an avalanche. It looked like smoke drifting down the distant cliff, but the sound attested to something much, much more powerful. It was such an evisceral sound, even at the distance. Not loud, but I could feel it in my chest. We heard it a couple more times while we were there.
Continuing on, the path began to wind through the trees, and we could see how much snow there was. The ground around the trees was bare, but it was at least a couple of feet below what we were walking on. Old animal tracks confirmed the depth. Or not so old. What was probably an elk had been through, occasionally breaking through the crust. I would guess it passed through only a day or two before us.
The climb gentled after the bench, and for awhile we even descended, but with the snow becoming heavier. And then I broke through. I found myself in snow up to the hip, and probably not close to touching bottom. Luckily the crust was strong enough around me, that I was able to pull my leg out. I just did a quick measure, and I figure I was in about 80 cm.
Jan and I looked at each other. The day was warming, the crust was softening. Time to turn around before the path we'd already traveled became impassible. Looking at the GPS data, the distance from our turn-around point to the parking lot was 1.9 km. So we were withing 300 m of Warspite Lake. Close, but no cigar.
The descent was quick and easy, as descents usually are. We met the Japanese tourists about half way down the logging road. They had stopped to remove layers since the day was warming up. We did tell their guide that we were not able to make it to the lake, but that they could probably go some of the way up.
After we passed them we found that they had churned up the snow on the logging road a fair amount. We wondered if we should have suggested they abandon the trip.
Back at the parking lot, it was snack time. And stretch time. While we were standing and chatting, that far-away rumble came again, bigger this time, and with it a gust of wind that roared through the tree tops.
For all the snow and not being able to get to the end, I think this was a pretty good hike. It was a sparkling day, with a cloudless and incredibly blue sky. Good company adds so much. But it's a trail that I just might have to revisit.
Starting elevation: 1733 m (5686 feet).
Highest elevation: 1831 m (6007 feet).
Elevation gain: 98 m (321 feet).
Distance: 3.8 km (2.4 mi).
Time: 1:45 (estimated).
# posted by Kelly @ 8:09 p.m. 
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