Friday, June 19, 2009
Grizzly Peak
I loved this one. Not too high, but the view is tremendous. I was out and on the road early, after sending a note on the L n K. The highway to Banff is rather quiet on Sunday morning, well, relatively quiet. I don't think that highway is ever less than rush hour busy.
Once on the Kananaskis highway, I had to slow right down at crossing the Texas gate at the over pass. A herd of horses had decided the ditches on either side were perfect for breakfast, and it was nice to see such beautiful animals out so early.
Farther down, and back up to highway speed, it was a quiet drive, although there were many other drivers out too. But those all turned off at the Kananaskis Village, the golf course, or the Mount Kidd RV park, and once past Wedge Pond, I pretty much had the highway to myself.
A few kilometres past the Fortress Junction, and one klick past the Grizzly Creek Day Use area, is Ripple Rock Creek. I drove a few metres past, made a u-turn and pulled into the ditch by the creek.
The trail was almost right beside where I'd parked. It started up a short steeper climb or about ten metres, before paralleling the creek along a slowly upward sloping meadow.
I was trucking along the trail in this stretch, when I saw something move through bush a couple of hundred metres ahead. And shortly after, a sheep burst into the meadow ahead. Coming my way. At a full gallop. Umm...
I stepped into the trees along side the trail, not sure what I'd done to invite the ire of this critter, and hoping to have a tree between me and it, at least to slow it down. I watched as it caroomed past and down the meadow toward the highway.
Now what? I considered what might have inspired such behaviour. A predator? One big enough to set a full grown mountain sheep on the run? Not really anything like that around. OK, maybe it was just enjoying the morning and was out for an exuberant run.
I continued. The forest was pretty open so I could see well into the trees. And after awhile, I started to relax and enjoy the surroundings, the beautiful morning, and that magical light of mornings in the mountains. So when something the size of a cow patty flopped on the path, I nearly messed my pants.
Jeepers! What on earth kind of frog grows that big, that far up a mountain side? This thing was huge, a blob with legs the size of a frisbee. Or so it seemed. It did another plopping jump into the bushes and I didn't go looking for where it went.
Wide awake now, I continued up the ever steepening trail. The forest was patchy, and there were signs of a forest fire, though it was probably several years past.
The trail zig-zagged through several rock bands, and at one point it was down to a narrow ledge. I felt for and found hand holds along side and was past it after a moment. After that, more zig-zagging and eventually the trail began to push around the side of the mountain, deeper along the gully and well above the creek at the bottom.
Here and there were towering tree trunks, long dead and showing signs of fire damage. This had been an old forest when the fire had come through, and now it was open meadow.
The trail continued until it came to an open avalanche run behind the mountain. A steep, lushly green slope angled upward to the left. The rock band angled upward bordering the run, and it looked like some kind of trial followed it, but the path seemed to continue straight across the slope.
I went straight. The path ended at a small gravelly gully, and I was off trail again. Instead of back tracking to see where I'd gone wrong, I simply headed straight up the slope. The grassy slope was wicked steep, but not too hard to climb.
Every ten metres or so, I stopped to see if I could spot where the trail might be, if one existed. A small clump of trees pushed me into the gravel, though there wasn't too much at that point. After the trees, a sort-of-trail seemed to lead up the gravelly gully.
I climbed to a bit of that, found a path crossing it and got on trail again. It lead to another gully, wider and more gravelly. It seemed there were several paths up the scree, so I picked the one that looked the most stable and started up.
Not really bad, but it was a bit of a treadmill at times. It was steep, and the gravel was filling my hikers with small pointy pebbles. At times I thought of crossing over to the green again, and climbing on the grass again. But there were so many footprints, so I thought I was on the right path.
Again, every ten metres or so, I would stop and look up. The edge of the col seemed so close, but every ten metres it seemed like it was no closer. Until suddenly I was over the edge and on lumpy grass that sloped to the left. To the right, the col I thought I was climbing to was several metres below. I'd been off trail again, apparently.
I was winded from the treadmill, but started up the slope. Lumpy and slumpy, it was a little soggy in places, and there was some large patches of snow still glaring in the sun. I picked my way up the lush slope, through grasses and all kinds of wildflowers.
Every once in awhile I'd look up to see how close I was, and always it seemed no closer, as before, so it was a little startling when I suddenly found myself looking over the edge and down into the valley.
What a view! The Kananaskis Range spread across the far side of the valley, and the Opals stretched away to left and right. The ridge continued upward to the left again, and I continued up. It narrowed so that the near vertical drop toward the highway was on my right, and the broken cliffs to the left lead down the way I'd come.
The ridge was narrow, which added some excitement to the last few metres. Spectacular! I could see my car beside the highway directly below, and two others. To the left, un-named peaks marched toward Mount Windtour, and northward, to the right, to more un-named peaks. Evan-Thomas loomed slightly back of those, across the broad gully down which Grizzly Creek was roaring. I couldn't see water, but I could sure hear it.
Also to the right was the Fortress Junction, and the road winding up to the old ski area. And to the left, almost lost in the haze, was the Kananaskis Lakes. I sat down, and dug my lunch out of my pack.
Another hiker soon came up behind me, and we sat and talked a bit. Then I started down.
Of course, I'm lousy at trail finding on the way up, but looking downslope, it was pretty obvious where it was going. The gravel that I'd slogged up became a quick elevator down. I didn't quite get the rhythm going, but still made good time while it lasted.
Then on the trail through the grass, steep, but my footing felt solid. Eventually it crossed over to the rock band, and followed it down. and joined the path that I'd been on. Standing at the junction, I marvelled at how I'd missed a very obvious cairn marking the proper trail.
The traverse around the side of the mountain went quick, as did the start of the zig-zag down the front of it. Just before the narrow ledge, I spotted a herd of sheep in a clearing below. It looked that they'd be right beside the trail.
At the narrow ledge, I wondered what the heck I saw that was so difficult. Other ledges were not-so-large steps below, and I was past it quickly. Farther down the trail, I got near the clearing where I'd saw the sheep, but they were gone.
Another few dozen metres and I caught up to them, though. They were out on the edge of the meadow, on the cliffs overlooking the gully. They disappeared behind and outcrop, and appeared just below it in pairs, ewe and lamb. The ewes more or less ignored me, but the lambs stared. Cute as all get out.
Eventually they moved past and down below me in the gully. I continued down and very quickly was on the long gentle slope where I'd encountered the charging loner. And then I was back at the car.
I put my pack on the back seat, and slipped off my hikers. There was lots of traffic on the highway, so it was noisy. I'd just put on some regular sneakers, when the sheep herd suddenly burst down the slope I'd just come down into the ditch. I jumped up on the shoulder and began waving at the approaching monster RVs. I figured if they hit the herd at highways speeds, I and my car would be covered in fresh mutton.
As the RVs slowed, the sheep scrambled up on the highway and across to the shoulder on the other side. A guard rail stopped them from going any farther. The ewes began nonchalantly licking at the pavement, likely for remnants of road salt, while the skitishly ran up and down the road.
After watching them for awhile, I drove up onto the highway and headed home.
Grizzly Peak
Starting elevation: 1686 m (5531 feet).
Highest elevation: 2534 m (8314 feet).
Lowest elevation: 1686 m (5531 feet).
Elevation gain: 848 m (2782 feet).
Distance: 6.1 km (3.8 mi).
Time: 4:14.
Once on the Kananaskis highway, I had to slow right down at crossing the Texas gate at the over pass. A herd of horses had decided the ditches on either side were perfect for breakfast, and it was nice to see such beautiful animals out so early.
Farther down, and back up to highway speed, it was a quiet drive, although there were many other drivers out too. But those all turned off at the Kananaskis Village, the golf course, or the Mount Kidd RV park, and once past Wedge Pond, I pretty much had the highway to myself.
A few kilometres past the Fortress Junction, and one klick past the Grizzly Creek Day Use area, is Ripple Rock Creek. I drove a few metres past, made a u-turn and pulled into the ditch by the creek.
The trail was almost right beside where I'd parked. It started up a short steeper climb or about ten metres, before paralleling the creek along a slowly upward sloping meadow.
I was trucking along the trail in this stretch, when I saw something move through bush a couple of hundred metres ahead. And shortly after, a sheep burst into the meadow ahead. Coming my way. At a full gallop. Umm...
I stepped into the trees along side the trail, not sure what I'd done to invite the ire of this critter, and hoping to have a tree between me and it, at least to slow it down. I watched as it caroomed past and down the meadow toward the highway.
Now what? I considered what might have inspired such behaviour. A predator? One big enough to set a full grown mountain sheep on the run? Not really anything like that around. OK, maybe it was just enjoying the morning and was out for an exuberant run.
I continued. The forest was pretty open so I could see well into the trees. And after awhile, I started to relax and enjoy the surroundings, the beautiful morning, and that magical light of mornings in the mountains. So when something the size of a cow patty flopped on the path, I nearly messed my pants.
Jeepers! What on earth kind of frog grows that big, that far up a mountain side? This thing was huge, a blob with legs the size of a frisbee. Or so it seemed. It did another plopping jump into the bushes and I didn't go looking for where it went.
Wide awake now, I continued up the ever steepening trail. The forest was patchy, and there were signs of a forest fire, though it was probably several years past.
The trail zig-zagged through several rock bands, and at one point it was down to a narrow ledge. I felt for and found hand holds along side and was past it after a moment. After that, more zig-zagging and eventually the trail began to push around the side of the mountain, deeper along the gully and well above the creek at the bottom.
Here and there were towering tree trunks, long dead and showing signs of fire damage. This had been an old forest when the fire had come through, and now it was open meadow.
The trail continued until it came to an open avalanche run behind the mountain. A steep, lushly green slope angled upward to the left. The rock band angled upward bordering the run, and it looked like some kind of trial followed it, but the path seemed to continue straight across the slope.
I went straight. The path ended at a small gravelly gully, and I was off trail again. Instead of back tracking to see where I'd gone wrong, I simply headed straight up the slope. The grassy slope was wicked steep, but not too hard to climb.
Every ten metres or so, I stopped to see if I could spot where the trail might be, if one existed. A small clump of trees pushed me into the gravel, though there wasn't too much at that point. After the trees, a sort-of-trail seemed to lead up the gravelly gully.
I climbed to a bit of that, found a path crossing it and got on trail again. It lead to another gully, wider and more gravelly. It seemed there were several paths up the scree, so I picked the one that looked the most stable and started up.
Not really bad, but it was a bit of a treadmill at times. It was steep, and the gravel was filling my hikers with small pointy pebbles. At times I thought of crossing over to the green again, and climbing on the grass again. But there were so many footprints, so I thought I was on the right path.
Again, every ten metres or so, I would stop and look up. The edge of the col seemed so close, but every ten metres it seemed like it was no closer. Until suddenly I was over the edge and on lumpy grass that sloped to the left. To the right, the col I thought I was climbing to was several metres below. I'd been off trail again, apparently.
I was winded from the treadmill, but started up the slope. Lumpy and slumpy, it was a little soggy in places, and there was some large patches of snow still glaring in the sun. I picked my way up the lush slope, through grasses and all kinds of wildflowers.
Every once in awhile I'd look up to see how close I was, and always it seemed no closer, as before, so it was a little startling when I suddenly found myself looking over the edge and down into the valley.
What a view! The Kananaskis Range spread across the far side of the valley, and the Opals stretched away to left and right. The ridge continued upward to the left again, and I continued up. It narrowed so that the near vertical drop toward the highway was on my right, and the broken cliffs to the left lead down the way I'd come.
The ridge was narrow, which added some excitement to the last few metres. Spectacular! I could see my car beside the highway directly below, and two others. To the left, un-named peaks marched toward Mount Windtour, and northward, to the right, to more un-named peaks. Evan-Thomas loomed slightly back of those, across the broad gully down which Grizzly Creek was roaring. I couldn't see water, but I could sure hear it.
Also to the right was the Fortress Junction, and the road winding up to the old ski area. And to the left, almost lost in the haze, was the Kananaskis Lakes. I sat down, and dug my lunch out of my pack.
Another hiker soon came up behind me, and we sat and talked a bit. Then I started down.
Of course, I'm lousy at trail finding on the way up, but looking downslope, it was pretty obvious where it was going. The gravel that I'd slogged up became a quick elevator down. I didn't quite get the rhythm going, but still made good time while it lasted.
Then on the trail through the grass, steep, but my footing felt solid. Eventually it crossed over to the rock band, and followed it down. and joined the path that I'd been on. Standing at the junction, I marvelled at how I'd missed a very obvious cairn marking the proper trail.
The traverse around the side of the mountain went quick, as did the start of the zig-zag down the front of it. Just before the narrow ledge, I spotted a herd of sheep in a clearing below. It looked that they'd be right beside the trail.
At the narrow ledge, I wondered what the heck I saw that was so difficult. Other ledges were not-so-large steps below, and I was past it quickly. Farther down the trail, I got near the clearing where I'd saw the sheep, but they were gone.
Another few dozen metres and I caught up to them, though. They were out on the edge of the meadow, on the cliffs overlooking the gully. They disappeared behind and outcrop, and appeared just below it in pairs, ewe and lamb. The ewes more or less ignored me, but the lambs stared. Cute as all get out.
Eventually they moved past and down below me in the gully. I continued down and very quickly was on the long gentle slope where I'd encountered the charging loner. And then I was back at the car.
I put my pack on the back seat, and slipped off my hikers. There was lots of traffic on the highway, so it was noisy. I'd just put on some regular sneakers, when the sheep herd suddenly burst down the slope I'd just come down into the ditch. I jumped up on the shoulder and began waving at the approaching monster RVs. I figured if they hit the herd at highways speeds, I and my car would be covered in fresh mutton.
As the RVs slowed, the sheep scrambled up on the highway and across to the shoulder on the other side. A guard rail stopped them from going any farther. The ewes began nonchalantly licking at the pavement, likely for remnants of road salt, while the skitishly ran up and down the road.
After watching them for awhile, I drove up onto the highway and headed home.
Grizzly Peak
Starting elevation: 1686 m (5531 feet).
Highest elevation: 2534 m (8314 feet).
Lowest elevation: 1686 m (5531 feet).
Elevation gain: 848 m (2782 feet).
Distance: 6.1 km (3.8 mi).
Time: 4:14.
# posted by Kelly @ 6:06 p.m. 
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