Sunday, August 12, 2007
Ha Ling
I've wanted to do this one ever since Nony suggested it a couple of years ago, and related her experience on it. Since Daisy is tied up for the next couple of weeks, I was going to be going solo, so why not do a busy one?
I pulled into the Goat Creek parking lot, already half full, and still half in the shade of Ha Ling. A couple of other groups were preparing as I was, and a group of five asked if I'd take their picture. All Russian, and having a great time. They went toward Rundle, while I crossed the road to climb up to the reservoir, that was the start of the Ha Ling trail.
Across a small bridge spanning the channel, around a small building, and into the forest. This was more of the lush forest that I keep running into on these hikes. It's hard to believe conditions are so dry that there's been a fire ban.
I passed a young woman with her nine-month-old on her back. She was taking her time, and probably a good thing, as the lower trail is full of roots. I decided to take it as hard as I probably would have had to if I'd had to keep up with Daisy, so I made good time.
The trail is groomed, sort of. It switches back and forth through the forest, and there are deadfall trees lining the trail like curbing. In places they block shortcuts. Sometimes they hold back some rock fall that helps to widen the path to something more than a narrow ledge. All very civilized.
The spongy peat soon gave way to dry dirt, and occasional glimpes of the valley and the range on the other side indicated how fast I was climbing. The trees began to thin and the dirt turned to gravel. The trail began to skirt bare slabs.
At 2300 metres, the trees had thinned considerably, and across a gully to the south, was a beautiful plateau, not much bigger than a city lot, very green, with a few firs spotting it. Some one had decided it would be a perfect camping spot, and had pitched a bright orange tent.
From here, the trail climbed out of the trees, and split into dozens of trails. There seemed to be a main trail most of the way, but mostly, it looked like a hiking free-for-all. I got to the ridge and had a look over the edge. Canmore spread out below, almost map-like since the view is nearly straight down. To the left, the ridge climbed to the peak.
I kept to the ridge, enjoying the view of the valley. As I neared the top, I'd peek over the edge, and it's breath-taking how nearly vertical that face is. I got to the very top, and found a couple of wind breaks, round walls against a rock that looked like topless igloos. Probably very cozy, but definitely no view. I picked a rock to sit on and fished my lunch from my bag.
This is a very popular hike, probably seeing a hundred or more people on a day like today. As such, the wildlife is pretty savvy about handouts. Sure enough, within seconds of my sitting down, a striped squirrel approached wearily. I declined to share my burritos, but held out a pumpkin seed from my trail mix. Not shy at all. After that, he nearly climbed up my arm, looking for more.
This was an amazing vantage. Canmore lay completely in view below. Mount Lady Macdonald and Grotto Mountain stood across the valley. The highway and the Bow River wound north-westward to disappear behind Mount Rundle, and south-eastward, past Deadman's Flats to Lac des Arcs. The Three Sisters were hidden behind the imposing prow of Mount Laurence Grassi.
I decided to follow the ridge across the col to the southeast to another peak, on an well used and obvious trail, since I could see a couple of groups coming from that way already. To the right, naked slabs sloped to the forest and the reservoir. To the left, were broken rock bands, momentarily looking accessible.
The trail topped out on an alpine meadow, which dropped suddenly to a viciously jagged gully that disappeard from view. The trail continued to the left along an climbing and quickly narrowing ridge that climbed up to a peak that, if I read the map right, is called Miner's Peak. By now the wind had picked up considerably and threatened to push me toward the valley below, so I found a sheltered spot for a snack and to survey the scene.
I dug the field glasses out and checked out Ha Ling in profile. From a bit of a bump far below, up a long crack, I counted thirteen climbers strung out from bottom to almost the top. Meanwhile, looking back over the col, several more hikers were coming up the way I had. It was getting crowded over there.
I put things away, and returned to the meadow. I climbed a small rock band and went toward another small peak, at least small from where I was seeing it. As I came along side it, I could see a sheer face that descended to forest a couple of hundred metres below.
Around the other side was a scree slope with several faint trails across it. The scrambling book suggests that there is a way to cross to Mount Laurence Grassi, but it required expert trail-finding skills, and perhaps some climbing gear. Easier, and much safer to climb that one from the reservoir below. There's apparently a trail that starts a kilometre or so past the start of the Ha Ling trail.
The wind was really starting to pick up, and it had a definite chill to it. Time to start down. I followed the trail down the ridge, and it joined up to one of the trails coming up.
It was a good time to head down, as rush hour seemed to have started. I passed at least a hundred people on the way up, most asking if they were close or if they were half way. I answered honestly.
An hour after leaving the ridge I was in the parking lot, watching a gaggle of cyclists tearing between the cars parked in the lot and on to the Goat Creek Trail. At the other end was the Banff Springs Hotel. I left the lot, and down the dusty road that hugs Rundle, past the Nordic Centre and into Canmore. I thought briefly about stopping for a coffee, but headed instead for the highway and home.
Ha Ling
Starting elevation: 1687 m (5534 feet).
Highest elevation: 2493 m (8179 feet).
Lowest elevation: 1687 m (5534 feet).
Elevation gain: 806 m (2644 feet).
Distance: 7.6 km (4.7 mi).
Time: 3:30.
I pulled into the Goat Creek parking lot, already half full, and still half in the shade of Ha Ling. A couple of other groups were preparing as I was, and a group of five asked if I'd take their picture. All Russian, and having a great time. They went toward Rundle, while I crossed the road to climb up to the reservoir, that was the start of the Ha Ling trail.
Across a small bridge spanning the channel, around a small building, and into the forest. This was more of the lush forest that I keep running into on these hikes. It's hard to believe conditions are so dry that there's been a fire ban.
I passed a young woman with her nine-month-old on her back. She was taking her time, and probably a good thing, as the lower trail is full of roots. I decided to take it as hard as I probably would have had to if I'd had to keep up with Daisy, so I made good time.
The trail is groomed, sort of. It switches back and forth through the forest, and there are deadfall trees lining the trail like curbing. In places they block shortcuts. Sometimes they hold back some rock fall that helps to widen the path to something more than a narrow ledge. All very civilized.
The spongy peat soon gave way to dry dirt, and occasional glimpes of the valley and the range on the other side indicated how fast I was climbing. The trees began to thin and the dirt turned to gravel. The trail began to skirt bare slabs.
At 2300 metres, the trees had thinned considerably, and across a gully to the south, was a beautiful plateau, not much bigger than a city lot, very green, with a few firs spotting it. Some one had decided it would be a perfect camping spot, and had pitched a bright orange tent.
From here, the trail climbed out of the trees, and split into dozens of trails. There seemed to be a main trail most of the way, but mostly, it looked like a hiking free-for-all. I got to the ridge and had a look over the edge. Canmore spread out below, almost map-like since the view is nearly straight down. To the left, the ridge climbed to the peak.
I kept to the ridge, enjoying the view of the valley. As I neared the top, I'd peek over the edge, and it's breath-taking how nearly vertical that face is. I got to the very top, and found a couple of wind breaks, round walls against a rock that looked like topless igloos. Probably very cozy, but definitely no view. I picked a rock to sit on and fished my lunch from my bag.
This is a very popular hike, probably seeing a hundred or more people on a day like today. As such, the wildlife is pretty savvy about handouts. Sure enough, within seconds of my sitting down, a striped squirrel approached wearily. I declined to share my burritos, but held out a pumpkin seed from my trail mix. Not shy at all. After that, he nearly climbed up my arm, looking for more.
This was an amazing vantage. Canmore lay completely in view below. Mount Lady Macdonald and Grotto Mountain stood across the valley. The highway and the Bow River wound north-westward to disappear behind Mount Rundle, and south-eastward, past Deadman's Flats to Lac des Arcs. The Three Sisters were hidden behind the imposing prow of Mount Laurence Grassi.
I decided to follow the ridge across the col to the southeast to another peak, on an well used and obvious trail, since I could see a couple of groups coming from that way already. To the right, naked slabs sloped to the forest and the reservoir. To the left, were broken rock bands, momentarily looking accessible.
The trail topped out on an alpine meadow, which dropped suddenly to a viciously jagged gully that disappeard from view. The trail continued to the left along an climbing and quickly narrowing ridge that climbed up to a peak that, if I read the map right, is called Miner's Peak. By now the wind had picked up considerably and threatened to push me toward the valley below, so I found a sheltered spot for a snack and to survey the scene.
I dug the field glasses out and checked out Ha Ling in profile. From a bit of a bump far below, up a long crack, I counted thirteen climbers strung out from bottom to almost the top. Meanwhile, looking back over the col, several more hikers were coming up the way I had. It was getting crowded over there.
I put things away, and returned to the meadow. I climbed a small rock band and went toward another small peak, at least small from where I was seeing it. As I came along side it, I could see a sheer face that descended to forest a couple of hundred metres below.
Around the other side was a scree slope with several faint trails across it. The scrambling book suggests that there is a way to cross to Mount Laurence Grassi, but it required expert trail-finding skills, and perhaps some climbing gear. Easier, and much safer to climb that one from the reservoir below. There's apparently a trail that starts a kilometre or so past the start of the Ha Ling trail.
The wind was really starting to pick up, and it had a definite chill to it. Time to start down. I followed the trail down the ridge, and it joined up to one of the trails coming up.
It was a good time to head down, as rush hour seemed to have started. I passed at least a hundred people on the way up, most asking if they were close or if they were half way. I answered honestly.
An hour after leaving the ridge I was in the parking lot, watching a gaggle of cyclists tearing between the cars parked in the lot and on to the Goat Creek Trail. At the other end was the Banff Springs Hotel. I left the lot, and down the dusty road that hugs Rundle, past the Nordic Centre and into Canmore. I thought briefly about stopping for a coffee, but headed instead for the highway and home.
Ha Ling
Starting elevation: 1687 m (5534 feet).
Highest elevation: 2493 m (8179 feet).
Lowest elevation: 1687 m (5534 feet).
Elevation gain: 806 m (2644 feet).
Distance: 7.6 km (4.7 mi).
Time: 3:30.
# posted by Kelly @ 8:15 p.m. 
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