Fossilised turtle eggs; 75 million years old.
Monday, October 27, 2008
ROYAL TYRELL MUSEUM, DRUMHELLER
"What an amazing race-walker I could be if I had leg bones like this!"
DINOSAUR PROVINCIAL PARK
Partially excavated dinosaurs bones in their original place of discovery. A structure has been built around the bones to protect them.
ALBERTA FARMLANDS
Typical Central and Northern Alberta Farmlands; thousands and thousands of bales of hay. Rocky Mountains visible on the skyline.
Friday, October 24, 2008
50 - 75 MILLION YEARS AGO
19th – 22nd September 2008 50 -75 MILLION YEARS AGO
I really couldn’t imagine what the Badlands of Dinosaur Provincial Park were going to be like. I only speculated that the scenery would be different from anything I’d ever seen so far. Our drive there had been as expected through flat prairie farmland and cattle ranches, but as we drew closer to the boundary of the provincial park we suddenly and startlingly found ourselves in the badlands. From this initial vantage point these were not hills rising up and visible from a distance, but deep yawning holes opening up in a dry and desolate landscape, the result of years of ravaging erosion. I remember catching my breath in amazement the first moment I saw this odd looking earthscape.
Once in the park itself we found ourselves surrounded by the cliffs, and valleys called coulees, of deeply weathered ironstone-topped hillocks. They reminded me of cone-shaped layer cakes with mudstone as the middle layer and sandstone at the base. In some places all that was left of the cake was a sculpture that created a balancing rock look, known as a hoodoo. Mule deer could often be seen clambering along the rugged slopes and grazing the prairie grass.
Dinosaur Provincial Park is a World Heritage Site as designated by UNESCO and its sharp angular features forms the largest area of badlands in Canada.
The campsite is attractively situated on the banks of The Little Sandhill Creek under the shade of 25year old cottonwood trees, and adjacent to this is the 10km Public Loop Road. One can explore freely inside the perimeter of this road, and there are several marked walking trails as well. Outside of the loop road we noticed a large area that was closed off to the public. This is a natural preserve area where dinosaur palaeontologists and research students continue to work on active digs, and is accessible to the public only when on guided tours.
One of the marked self-guiding trails, The Trail of the Fossil Hunters, ends at an old quarry site, discovered during The Great Canadian Dinosaur Rush. Evidently the fever was every bit as intense as during any gold rush, with fiercely competitive palaeontologists vying for glory and the best specimens.
There is now a glassed in exhibit, an old dig that had been left in process, of enormous fossilized dinosaur bones still partly imbedded in the rock from which they had been exposed. These were the bones of a Centrosaurus, a duck billed dinosaur (hadrosaur) that lived in the Late Cretaceous Period, 50 to 75 million years ago.
This was my first visceral experience of the reality of the existence of these enormous animals living during an unimaginably distant past. To me they will never again be simply those plastic toys or rather tiresome animated talking creatures seen in numerous movies.
The Centrosaurus was a “medium” sized horned dinosaur that lived in herds of up to about 400 hundred animals. It lived before and was smaller than Triceratops.
We booked ourselves a busy Saturday with a 3hr. guided walking tour in the morning and a 2hr guided bus tour in the afternoon.
However, wanting make the most of our time here we got up early and went on a self-guided walk, the Cottonwood Flats Trail. It was on this walk that I began to get a better sense of the lush and varied riverside habitat that exists in proximity to and in harmony with the badlands.
There are 3 distinct eco-zones in this park, offering habitat to a variety of bird, animal and plant species. Prairie grasslands form only about 10% of the park’s area, “an important remnant of the native prairie ecosystem that once covered most of the vast Interior Plains stretching from Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba as far south as Texas.” The other 2 zones are of course the badlands and the riparian or riverbank zone.
This walk took us away from the dry and rugged coulees onto the floodplain of the wide Red Deer River. This is a narrow greenbelt that extends back a few hundred metres from the river’s edge. “Towering cottonwoods act as a canopy, creating a cool moist environment for under story species such as wild rose, saskatoon berry, chokecherry, buffaloberry and dogwood bushes”. There are an abundance of burrowing and aquatic insects, and a variety of nesting opportunities that attract over half of the parks 165 species of birds. May and June is apparently the time to come for keen bird-watchers. It also provides habitat for small mammals, coyote, beaver and porcupine, as well as the mule deer.
I was interested to learn that in this part of southern Alberta, the cottonwoods (a member of the poplar family) are at risk. They do not send out runners and will not survive being transplanted or grown from seed in a controlled environment. They will only seed themselves in wet mud in the aftermath of a flood, which happens periodically and unpredictably. The oldest trees are several hundred years old and the youngest ones are 25 years old. More recently a dam has been built a several hundred kms upstream, for, guess what, flood control and for irrigation purposes. To my mind this is very sad as it means those beautiful trees now have no way of regenerating themselves in this area, and could ultimately die out completely.
Dillon was our enthusiastic guide for the Centrosaurus Bone Bed Hike and for the Badlands Bus Tour, and took us into the Natural Preserve area. Though the information overlapped somewhat it was a most fascinating day.
Our first instruction on the hike was to stay on the trail and walk in single file. (The discipline of my convent days came in handy here!) This really emphasized for me how imperative it is to protect the very fragile, wind-swept and precious eco-system.
75 million years ago Alberta was covered by a huge subtropical ocean and coastal area. This ancient sea extended the whole length of what is now the North American Continent. It was home to sharks, crocodiles and turtles having lush vegetation similar to present day Florida. It was also home to large herds of dinosaurs. In what is now the Dinosaur Provincial Park something occurred to cause the deaths of a herd of hundreds of adults and juvenile Centrosaurus leaving behind these extraordinary fossilized bone beds that tell something of their story. One theory is that perhaps they were drowned crossing a flood-swollen river and were rapidly covered in sand and mud. As I understand it, in very simplistic terms, eons of time went by, several ice ages came and went, glaciers advanced and retreated, and lakes formed and dried up. Much more recently wind and rain eroded away the soft under layer of sandstone and worked more slowly on the mudstone, leaving behind toppings of the much harder ironstone layer. After millions of years this process has finally exposed an amazing legacy, this rich record of fossilized bones and petrified wood.
To realize that almost every rock we picked up to look at or walked on top of was part of an enormous bed of bones, the bones of reptiles that could weigh up to three thousand pounds each and that had evolved to the point where they would care for their young, was truly mind blowing.
The following day we left early to drive the couple of hours to Drumheller and the Royal Tyrell Museum, so as to get there as the doors opened. Drumheller itself is a small town with the main attraction clearly being the museum. Great dinosaurs stood at entries to gas stations, campgrounds and the like, and there were stores dotted about selling fossils.
Eric and I spent a full day, with only a short lunch break, thoroughly immersed.
It was set up in such a way that we were able to walk through the various eras, going from Precambrian to Palaeozoic to Cretaceous and so on. This was extremely helpful to me. I was able to enter into the experience of our planet’s history and acquire some understanding of the order of life’s progression through billions of years.
There were intriguing exhibits of tiny life forms such as magnified fossilized grains of pollen, of various species of prehistoric plants such as kelp, and of dinosaur footprints. Impressive dinosaur skeletons towered over us, while at eye-level there were examples of such things as ancient sea turtles and other marine fossils and prehistoric animals.
The fossils of the very large down to the very tiny was captivating.
Time in that place felt strangely beyond time, more like timeless.
I really couldn’t imagine what the Badlands of Dinosaur Provincial Park were going to be like. I only speculated that the scenery would be different from anything I’d ever seen so far. Our drive there had been as expected through flat prairie farmland and cattle ranches, but as we drew closer to the boundary of the provincial park we suddenly and startlingly found ourselves in the badlands. From this initial vantage point these were not hills rising up and visible from a distance, but deep yawning holes opening up in a dry and desolate landscape, the result of years of ravaging erosion. I remember catching my breath in amazement the first moment I saw this odd looking earthscape.
Once in the park itself we found ourselves surrounded by the cliffs, and valleys called coulees, of deeply weathered ironstone-topped hillocks. They reminded me of cone-shaped layer cakes with mudstone as the middle layer and sandstone at the base. In some places all that was left of the cake was a sculpture that created a balancing rock look, known as a hoodoo. Mule deer could often be seen clambering along the rugged slopes and grazing the prairie grass.
Dinosaur Provincial Park is a World Heritage Site as designated by UNESCO and its sharp angular features forms the largest area of badlands in Canada.
The campsite is attractively situated on the banks of The Little Sandhill Creek under the shade of 25year old cottonwood trees, and adjacent to this is the 10km Public Loop Road. One can explore freely inside the perimeter of this road, and there are several marked walking trails as well. Outside of the loop road we noticed a large area that was closed off to the public. This is a natural preserve area where dinosaur palaeontologists and research students continue to work on active digs, and is accessible to the public only when on guided tours.
One of the marked self-guiding trails, The Trail of the Fossil Hunters, ends at an old quarry site, discovered during The Great Canadian Dinosaur Rush. Evidently the fever was every bit as intense as during any gold rush, with fiercely competitive palaeontologists vying for glory and the best specimens.
There is now a glassed in exhibit, an old dig that had been left in process, of enormous fossilized dinosaur bones still partly imbedded in the rock from which they had been exposed. These were the bones of a Centrosaurus, a duck billed dinosaur (hadrosaur) that lived in the Late Cretaceous Period, 50 to 75 million years ago.
This was my first visceral experience of the reality of the existence of these enormous animals living during an unimaginably distant past. To me they will never again be simply those plastic toys or rather tiresome animated talking creatures seen in numerous movies.
The Centrosaurus was a “medium” sized horned dinosaur that lived in herds of up to about 400 hundred animals. It lived before and was smaller than Triceratops.
We booked ourselves a busy Saturday with a 3hr. guided walking tour in the morning and a 2hr guided bus tour in the afternoon.
However, wanting make the most of our time here we got up early and went on a self-guided walk, the Cottonwood Flats Trail. It was on this walk that I began to get a better sense of the lush and varied riverside habitat that exists in proximity to and in harmony with the badlands.
There are 3 distinct eco-zones in this park, offering habitat to a variety of bird, animal and plant species. Prairie grasslands form only about 10% of the park’s area, “an important remnant of the native prairie ecosystem that once covered most of the vast Interior Plains stretching from Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba as far south as Texas.” The other 2 zones are of course the badlands and the riparian or riverbank zone.
This walk took us away from the dry and rugged coulees onto the floodplain of the wide Red Deer River. This is a narrow greenbelt that extends back a few hundred metres from the river’s edge. “Towering cottonwoods act as a canopy, creating a cool moist environment for under story species such as wild rose, saskatoon berry, chokecherry, buffaloberry and dogwood bushes”. There are an abundance of burrowing and aquatic insects, and a variety of nesting opportunities that attract over half of the parks 165 species of birds. May and June is apparently the time to come for keen bird-watchers. It also provides habitat for small mammals, coyote, beaver and porcupine, as well as the mule deer.
I was interested to learn that in this part of southern Alberta, the cottonwoods (a member of the poplar family) are at risk. They do not send out runners and will not survive being transplanted or grown from seed in a controlled environment. They will only seed themselves in wet mud in the aftermath of a flood, which happens periodically and unpredictably. The oldest trees are several hundred years old and the youngest ones are 25 years old. More recently a dam has been built a several hundred kms upstream, for, guess what, flood control and for irrigation purposes. To my mind this is very sad as it means those beautiful trees now have no way of regenerating themselves in this area, and could ultimately die out completely.
Dillon was our enthusiastic guide for the Centrosaurus Bone Bed Hike and for the Badlands Bus Tour, and took us into the Natural Preserve area. Though the information overlapped somewhat it was a most fascinating day.
Our first instruction on the hike was to stay on the trail and walk in single file. (The discipline of my convent days came in handy here!) This really emphasized for me how imperative it is to protect the very fragile, wind-swept and precious eco-system.
75 million years ago Alberta was covered by a huge subtropical ocean and coastal area. This ancient sea extended the whole length of what is now the North American Continent. It was home to sharks, crocodiles and turtles having lush vegetation similar to present day Florida. It was also home to large herds of dinosaurs. In what is now the Dinosaur Provincial Park something occurred to cause the deaths of a herd of hundreds of adults and juvenile Centrosaurus leaving behind these extraordinary fossilized bone beds that tell something of their story. One theory is that perhaps they were drowned crossing a flood-swollen river and were rapidly covered in sand and mud. As I understand it, in very simplistic terms, eons of time went by, several ice ages came and went, glaciers advanced and retreated, and lakes formed and dried up. Much more recently wind and rain eroded away the soft under layer of sandstone and worked more slowly on the mudstone, leaving behind toppings of the much harder ironstone layer. After millions of years this process has finally exposed an amazing legacy, this rich record of fossilized bones and petrified wood.
To realize that almost every rock we picked up to look at or walked on top of was part of an enormous bed of bones, the bones of reptiles that could weigh up to three thousand pounds each and that had evolved to the point where they would care for their young, was truly mind blowing.
The following day we left early to drive the couple of hours to Drumheller and the Royal Tyrell Museum, so as to get there as the doors opened. Drumheller itself is a small town with the main attraction clearly being the museum. Great dinosaurs stood at entries to gas stations, campgrounds and the like, and there were stores dotted about selling fossils.
Eric and I spent a full day, with only a short lunch break, thoroughly immersed.
It was set up in such a way that we were able to walk through the various eras, going from Precambrian to Palaeozoic to Cretaceous and so on. This was extremely helpful to me. I was able to enter into the experience of our planet’s history and acquire some understanding of the order of life’s progression through billions of years.
There were intriguing exhibits of tiny life forms such as magnified fossilized grains of pollen, of various species of prehistoric plants such as kelp, and of dinosaur footprints. Impressive dinosaur skeletons towered over us, while at eye-level there were examples of such things as ancient sea turtles and other marine fossils and prehistoric animals.
The fossils of the very large down to the very tiny was captivating.
Time in that place felt strangely beyond time, more like timeless.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
CALGARY
16th – 18th September CALGARY
On Tuesday 16th September we packed up and left Waterton Lakes National Park. It was a final goodbye for now from me to the mountains, which have a way of shaking me down to my very core. I will miss their extraordinary indescribable splendour, no pettiness there, only the grand issues of life and death.
I was very aware that the little town was beginning to close its shutters, the tourists were dwindling, and a lot of the townspeople were making plans to leave for places more comfortable. Only 30 people brave the winter in Waterton. All the sentient beings of the area were in fine tune with the power and processes of nature, and were making arrangements to make it through the long deep cold. We too, needed to make our arrangements and stay ahead of the snow, in order to reach the coziness of Nairn before the towing of a trailer became hazardous.
Our neighbours at the campsite are from Calgary and gave us some tips about where we could stay, before we set off for our next destination. Our route was along the TransCanada Highway, the #1 Highway, which took us through miles and miles of flat prairie ranch land, in sharp contrast to the terrain we were leaving. This was home to thousands of black and brown cows and not quite as many horses, and fields upon fields of neatly rolled and piled up bales of hay.
We bypassed the city itself and checked in at a campground in the dormitory community of Cochane north of Calgary. Calgary has boomed in recent years and is a sprawling city with many examples of mushrooming suburbia perched on the desirable tops of all the surrounding hills. Looking to the west in the far distance, the faint blue of the Rockies can be seen.
Wednesday morning we left early without the trailer in tow, to do the 2-hour drive back to Rocky Mountain House. I wanted to spend just a few last hours with Jean, and to see Sarah and her brother Michael, who was visiting from England, before we headed back to Ontario. On a clear sunny day, it was a lovely drive, once more in fertile farm country.
Thursday was designated as the day to spend in Calgary. Public transit is very good and we took the fast train into the city centre. The downtown core was strikingly busy and something of a shock after the great silences of Waterton. Lunchtime was a crazy cacophony of city sounds. We, at first, attempted to sit out on the restaurant’s patio to watch the smartly dressed passers-by, purposefully moving about on their lunch break. But a concrete mixer nearby, part of a road repair project, was grimly and determinedly rotating its viscous load and spewing it out, creating such an ear-exploding din, that we retreated inside. Once inside, conversation annihilating high volume canned music, and a TV relentlessly and simultaneously droning on, assaulted us. Eric and I, beaten by the onslaught, simply ate our meal and left. As if in consolation, the food was good, not always the case in an unknown city, and the server was a cheery soul.
It was the gods’ idea of black comedy, I suppose, as in the midst of it all Eric and I were gloomily and impossibly attempting to resolve a conflict. Funny really…now!! In the end, the external craziness had the effect of diffusing our tension and left us quiet and weary.
Perhaps Calgary deserves another visit.
On Tuesday 16th September we packed up and left Waterton Lakes National Park. It was a final goodbye for now from me to the mountains, which have a way of shaking me down to my very core. I will miss their extraordinary indescribable splendour, no pettiness there, only the grand issues of life and death.
I was very aware that the little town was beginning to close its shutters, the tourists were dwindling, and a lot of the townspeople were making plans to leave for places more comfortable. Only 30 people brave the winter in Waterton. All the sentient beings of the area were in fine tune with the power and processes of nature, and were making arrangements to make it through the long deep cold. We too, needed to make our arrangements and stay ahead of the snow, in order to reach the coziness of Nairn before the towing of a trailer became hazardous.
Our neighbours at the campsite are from Calgary and gave us some tips about where we could stay, before we set off for our next destination. Our route was along the TransCanada Highway, the #1 Highway, which took us through miles and miles of flat prairie ranch land, in sharp contrast to the terrain we were leaving. This was home to thousands of black and brown cows and not quite as many horses, and fields upon fields of neatly rolled and piled up bales of hay.
We bypassed the city itself and checked in at a campground in the dormitory community of Cochane north of Calgary. Calgary has boomed in recent years and is a sprawling city with many examples of mushrooming suburbia perched on the desirable tops of all the surrounding hills. Looking to the west in the far distance, the faint blue of the Rockies can be seen.
Wednesday morning we left early without the trailer in tow, to do the 2-hour drive back to Rocky Mountain House. I wanted to spend just a few last hours with Jean, and to see Sarah and her brother Michael, who was visiting from England, before we headed back to Ontario. On a clear sunny day, it was a lovely drive, once more in fertile farm country.
Thursday was designated as the day to spend in Calgary. Public transit is very good and we took the fast train into the city centre. The downtown core was strikingly busy and something of a shock after the great silences of Waterton. Lunchtime was a crazy cacophony of city sounds. We, at first, attempted to sit out on the restaurant’s patio to watch the smartly dressed passers-by, purposefully moving about on their lunch break. But a concrete mixer nearby, part of a road repair project, was grimly and determinedly rotating its viscous load and spewing it out, creating such an ear-exploding din, that we retreated inside. Once inside, conversation annihilating high volume canned music, and a TV relentlessly and simultaneously droning on, assaulted us. Eric and I, beaten by the onslaught, simply ate our meal and left. As if in consolation, the food was good, not always the case in an unknown city, and the server was a cheery soul.
It was the gods’ idea of black comedy, I suppose, as in the midst of it all Eric and I were gloomily and impossibly attempting to resolve a conflict. Funny really…now!! In the end, the external craziness had the effect of diffusing our tension and left us quiet and weary.
Perhaps Calgary deserves another visit.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
GLACIER NATIONAL PARK
Walking on the first afternoon in the Many Glacier portion of the Glacier National Park
BACK IN THE MOUNTAINS
10th – 15th September BACK IN THE MOUNTAINS
There was a noticeable difference in the weather and in the number of daylight hours, since we had driven through the Rockies in early July.
We awoke the next morning to rain and cloud-shrouded mountains, with fresh snow in places, so we took it easy and only after lunch did we head over to the St. Mary Visitor Centre to plan some hiking. That afternoon we drove to Many Glacier and from there began a short hike to Fishercap Lake hoping to see a moose, but no luck there. On the way though we had our first black bear sighting, 2 small dots on a hill that became an adult and a juvenile with the help of binoculars. Our trail continued past Red Rock Lake to the Red Rock Falls, a vivid deep red mudstone.
By the time we were driving back to our camp it was getting dark but we were lucky enough to see a handsome male moose with an impressive rack by a lake’s edge. A bit further away, a grizzly bear (or were there 2?) was feeding in among some bushes. It was fairly dark by this time and I could only just make him out even with my trusty binoculars.
The next morning the air was cold though the day was sunny. To reach the trailhead of the Highline Trail, our planned hike, we drove about a third of the way along the scenic 50-mile Going To The Sun Road until we reached Logan’s Pass, where the road crosses the Continental Divide.
Going To The Sun Road is a scenic route through the Glacier National Park between the west entrance near West Glacier and the east entrance at St. Mary. It was completed in the 1930’s and is winding, narrow and steep. Trailers are not allowed to travel on it hence we had to take the longer route the day before.
The Continental Divide extends through both Glacier and Waterton Lakes National Parks and beyond to Crowsnest Pass. This is the dividing line of high ground; on the one side of which the rivers flow to the Pacific and on the other side the rivers flow to the Atlantic.
At Logan’s Pass we were already above the tree line and we followed along a narrow rock ledge for some way, against the side of the steep mountain. From this ledge we could look way down and far out at a wide-open vista of mountains in all directions.
As the trail continued it kept at a fairly even gradient, and some way along we were introduced to wild huckleberries by a couple of girls who were picking this local specialty. They’re popular with the bears too I’m sure.
On a distant hillside we watched Long Horn sheep grazing and further along followed the movement of mountain goats down into a valley.
We had lunch high up on an alpine vantage point with a magnificent view and watched as the group of about 20 mountain goats, which included about half a dozen young ones, came closer. They seemed quite unperturbed by our interest, so we were able to get very close and watch them feeding on the low growing vegetation. In late summer groups of females and young ones stay together, feeding up in preparation for winter. I’m assuming this was such a group.
The handsome males, which have great furry beards and straight black horns, are solitary or cluster in small groups, (females have shorter black horns).
These animals are quite large and strong looking with glorious thick white fur. Their sturdy back legs looked particularly impressive to me, needed I’m sure, for good balance and for leaping from rock to rock.
They live all winter high in the deep snow of the mountains, feeding on lichens and whatever else they can find. The veins in their feet are able to enlarge to prevent them from freezing, and the fermenting of the digesting food in the first of their 2 stomachs also helps them to withstand the below zero temperatures.
I felt privileged to have been able to watch them so closely go about being beautiful mountain goats.
Next morning we left St. Mary and made a hassle-free crossing into Alberta at the Chief Mountain Border. Checking what kind of bear spray we had seemed to be the only concern. Apparently some varieties can be used as weapons! Nasty! Nasty!
We established ourselves at the campground in the little town of Waterton, which is nestled on the edge of the large and beautiful Waterton Lake and planned to spend several days. A herd of mule deer has grown accustomed to grazing in the campground and around the town, taking shelter against the wind and rain by huddling together up against the walls of buildings. Easily recognized by their large ears, which stand straight up, ever alert to any alarm, and black-tipped, white tails, they moved contentedly about the grassy campsite, feeding, thereby eliminating any need for lawn mowing.
I was thrilled to be revisiting Waterton. We’d been there 4 years ago, with Matt and Alan and cousin Dave, my first experience of The Rockies, and I had lovely memories of beautiful hikes and lots of laughs.
On our first afternoon we hiked the Bertha Falls and Bertha Lake Trail, which begins right at the campsite. The round trip is about 15 km and it took us about 5 hours. The first part of the trail has magnificent views overlooking Upper Waterton Lake, which extends south and into Glacier Park in Montana. The trail then begins to climb up to a lovely view of the Lower Bertha Falls, followed by switchbacks taking one up more steeply past the Upper Falls, which we caught but a glimpse of, to the alpine lake. Having a snack beside the water were a group of about 5 people and their horses. Eric and I continued on to do the gently rolling 4.5 km trail that circles the lake. “Bertha Lake is a beautiful, deep-blue lake set beneath tremendous cliffs.” Steep avalanche slopes come straight down to the water’s edge. We noticed a few campsites hidden away but close to the lake and I thought how great it would be to spend a couple of days up there taking quick dips in the perfectly clear water (if it ever got warm enough) and enjoying the alpine wild flowers and the sun.
On the way down we came upon the group of riders again and as we came up behind them I marveled at how the horses managed to negotiate the narrow rocky path.
Egg sandwiches and power bars were the sustenance for a longer, more strenuous hike the following day. Our plan was to climb up onto, and walk some of the way along the Akamina Ridge. To get to the trailhead we drove along the Akamina Parkway. From there we began by walking the 1.5 km, which took us up to the Akamina Pass and to the border with BC. Now we were entering the Akamina – Kishenena Provincial Park, which abuts Waterton, and we made our way along the Wall Lake Trail, which rose gently through forest. There were small patches of fresh snow here and there; reminding us that summer is a very short season in the mountains. There can be snow for eight months of the year. Once we reached Wall Lake we could look way up high towards the heavens and see the Akamina Ridge long and strangely flat. As I contemplated the sight I couldn’t quite believe that this was really where we were headed.
We walked around the north end of the lake and then began the very steep climb up to Bennett Pass. I have to say that this section was The Most Challenging piece of hiking I have ever encountered. I had done some pretty tricky scrambling up and over rocks, and walked some pretty steep terrain, but this was extremely hard going and it felt as though it would never end. The narrow path, covered in loose gravel that was inclined to roll under foot if you didn’t play close attention, ascended sharply and mercilessly. We were walking up the side of a mountain, which disappeared down into the valley below us. No place for switchbacks here. I concentrated on watching my feet, and trying to control my breathing and didn’t look up or down without first stopping and standing steadily. I was proud of my legs that day.
Once at the top of the pass the reward was evident all around me, in every direction. Sitting down, protected from the gusting wind by a couple of courageous shrubs, I caught my breath.
After a few minutes we heard voices the sound of horses coming up that treacherous path. Four beautiful and sweating horses and their chatting, obviously skilled, riders appeared. I was quite amazed by this. The group consisted of a young woman whose family has a cattle ranch not far from the park. Her companions were three men, 2 were Israeli and one was Argentinean. Her family had, over the years, often had foreign agricultural students come and work on the ranch in the summer. This was Sunday. Perhaps she was taking them on an adventure on their day off.
However we were not yet on top of a high point on the ridge, and that was where we planned to have lunch. The journey continued a little further. The ridge itself was broad and fairly flat, and I felt like one of the little people in Gulliver’s Travels walking on the back of a giant whale or something.
Up we went to the appointed summit, which was neither broad nor fairly flat, and with little protection from the fierce wind. There is something frighteningly overwhelming for me about being up so high with vast mountains and valleys literally as far as the eye can see. The impulse to shut out the experience and move swiftly down to lower ground is strong. I remember experiencing this the last time I was in Waterton, and the sense of disappointment I felt afterwards knowing that I hadn’t had the courage to let the immensity of it really penetrate. This time I wanted to do it differently so I sat there for quite a while, speaking to Eric about the experience. I feel as though by being up there I must confront my mortality, my ultimate human frailty. I feel so small and powerless against the huge forces of nature. It’s as though in this place I come face to face with and must acknowledge a truth that isn’t very visible to me when I’m in my ordinary life.
We could have continued on and done a circuit but there was a particularly rough section coming up and we didn’t know quite what to expect, so decided to go back the way we had come. It had been challenge enough.
The next day we rested and later in the afternoon took a drive to Red Rock Canyon. On the way we were lucky enough to see a mother bear and a cub feeding quite close to the road. She seemed anxious and alert, not really happy to have us viewing her, being a protective mother bear, and putting on weight ready for the winter.
There was a noticeable difference in the weather and in the number of daylight hours, since we had driven through the Rockies in early July.
We awoke the next morning to rain and cloud-shrouded mountains, with fresh snow in places, so we took it easy and only after lunch did we head over to the St. Mary Visitor Centre to plan some hiking. That afternoon we drove to Many Glacier and from there began a short hike to Fishercap Lake hoping to see a moose, but no luck there. On the way though we had our first black bear sighting, 2 small dots on a hill that became an adult and a juvenile with the help of binoculars. Our trail continued past Red Rock Lake to the Red Rock Falls, a vivid deep red mudstone.
By the time we were driving back to our camp it was getting dark but we were lucky enough to see a handsome male moose with an impressive rack by a lake’s edge. A bit further away, a grizzly bear (or were there 2?) was feeding in among some bushes. It was fairly dark by this time and I could only just make him out even with my trusty binoculars.
The next morning the air was cold though the day was sunny. To reach the trailhead of the Highline Trail, our planned hike, we drove about a third of the way along the scenic 50-mile Going To The Sun Road until we reached Logan’s Pass, where the road crosses the Continental Divide.
Going To The Sun Road is a scenic route through the Glacier National Park between the west entrance near West Glacier and the east entrance at St. Mary. It was completed in the 1930’s and is winding, narrow and steep. Trailers are not allowed to travel on it hence we had to take the longer route the day before.
The Continental Divide extends through both Glacier and Waterton Lakes National Parks and beyond to Crowsnest Pass. This is the dividing line of high ground; on the one side of which the rivers flow to the Pacific and on the other side the rivers flow to the Atlantic.
At Logan’s Pass we were already above the tree line and we followed along a narrow rock ledge for some way, against the side of the steep mountain. From this ledge we could look way down and far out at a wide-open vista of mountains in all directions.
As the trail continued it kept at a fairly even gradient, and some way along we were introduced to wild huckleberries by a couple of girls who were picking this local specialty. They’re popular with the bears too I’m sure.
On a distant hillside we watched Long Horn sheep grazing and further along followed the movement of mountain goats down into a valley.
We had lunch high up on an alpine vantage point with a magnificent view and watched as the group of about 20 mountain goats, which included about half a dozen young ones, came closer. They seemed quite unperturbed by our interest, so we were able to get very close and watch them feeding on the low growing vegetation. In late summer groups of females and young ones stay together, feeding up in preparation for winter. I’m assuming this was such a group.
The handsome males, which have great furry beards and straight black horns, are solitary or cluster in small groups, (females have shorter black horns).
These animals are quite large and strong looking with glorious thick white fur. Their sturdy back legs looked particularly impressive to me, needed I’m sure, for good balance and for leaping from rock to rock.
They live all winter high in the deep snow of the mountains, feeding on lichens and whatever else they can find. The veins in their feet are able to enlarge to prevent them from freezing, and the fermenting of the digesting food in the first of their 2 stomachs also helps them to withstand the below zero temperatures.
I felt privileged to have been able to watch them so closely go about being beautiful mountain goats.
Next morning we left St. Mary and made a hassle-free crossing into Alberta at the Chief Mountain Border. Checking what kind of bear spray we had seemed to be the only concern. Apparently some varieties can be used as weapons! Nasty! Nasty!
We established ourselves at the campground in the little town of Waterton, which is nestled on the edge of the large and beautiful Waterton Lake and planned to spend several days. A herd of mule deer has grown accustomed to grazing in the campground and around the town, taking shelter against the wind and rain by huddling together up against the walls of buildings. Easily recognized by their large ears, which stand straight up, ever alert to any alarm, and black-tipped, white tails, they moved contentedly about the grassy campsite, feeding, thereby eliminating any need for lawn mowing.
I was thrilled to be revisiting Waterton. We’d been there 4 years ago, with Matt and Alan and cousin Dave, my first experience of The Rockies, and I had lovely memories of beautiful hikes and lots of laughs.
On our first afternoon we hiked the Bertha Falls and Bertha Lake Trail, which begins right at the campsite. The round trip is about 15 km and it took us about 5 hours. The first part of the trail has magnificent views overlooking Upper Waterton Lake, which extends south and into Glacier Park in Montana. The trail then begins to climb up to a lovely view of the Lower Bertha Falls, followed by switchbacks taking one up more steeply past the Upper Falls, which we caught but a glimpse of, to the alpine lake. Having a snack beside the water were a group of about 5 people and their horses. Eric and I continued on to do the gently rolling 4.5 km trail that circles the lake. “Bertha Lake is a beautiful, deep-blue lake set beneath tremendous cliffs.” Steep avalanche slopes come straight down to the water’s edge. We noticed a few campsites hidden away but close to the lake and I thought how great it would be to spend a couple of days up there taking quick dips in the perfectly clear water (if it ever got warm enough) and enjoying the alpine wild flowers and the sun.
On the way down we came upon the group of riders again and as we came up behind them I marveled at how the horses managed to negotiate the narrow rocky path.
Egg sandwiches and power bars were the sustenance for a longer, more strenuous hike the following day. Our plan was to climb up onto, and walk some of the way along the Akamina Ridge. To get to the trailhead we drove along the Akamina Parkway. From there we began by walking the 1.5 km, which took us up to the Akamina Pass and to the border with BC. Now we were entering the Akamina – Kishenena Provincial Park, which abuts Waterton, and we made our way along the Wall Lake Trail, which rose gently through forest. There were small patches of fresh snow here and there; reminding us that summer is a very short season in the mountains. There can be snow for eight months of the year. Once we reached Wall Lake we could look way up high towards the heavens and see the Akamina Ridge long and strangely flat. As I contemplated the sight I couldn’t quite believe that this was really where we were headed.
We walked around the north end of the lake and then began the very steep climb up to Bennett Pass. I have to say that this section was The Most Challenging piece of hiking I have ever encountered. I had done some pretty tricky scrambling up and over rocks, and walked some pretty steep terrain, but this was extremely hard going and it felt as though it would never end. The narrow path, covered in loose gravel that was inclined to roll under foot if you didn’t play close attention, ascended sharply and mercilessly. We were walking up the side of a mountain, which disappeared down into the valley below us. No place for switchbacks here. I concentrated on watching my feet, and trying to control my breathing and didn’t look up or down without first stopping and standing steadily. I was proud of my legs that day.
Once at the top of the pass the reward was evident all around me, in every direction. Sitting down, protected from the gusting wind by a couple of courageous shrubs, I caught my breath.
After a few minutes we heard voices the sound of horses coming up that treacherous path. Four beautiful and sweating horses and their chatting, obviously skilled, riders appeared. I was quite amazed by this. The group consisted of a young woman whose family has a cattle ranch not far from the park. Her companions were three men, 2 were Israeli and one was Argentinean. Her family had, over the years, often had foreign agricultural students come and work on the ranch in the summer. This was Sunday. Perhaps she was taking them on an adventure on their day off.
However we were not yet on top of a high point on the ridge, and that was where we planned to have lunch. The journey continued a little further. The ridge itself was broad and fairly flat, and I felt like one of the little people in Gulliver’s Travels walking on the back of a giant whale or something.
Up we went to the appointed summit, which was neither broad nor fairly flat, and with little protection from the fierce wind. There is something frighteningly overwhelming for me about being up so high with vast mountains and valleys literally as far as the eye can see. The impulse to shut out the experience and move swiftly down to lower ground is strong. I remember experiencing this the last time I was in Waterton, and the sense of disappointment I felt afterwards knowing that I hadn’t had the courage to let the immensity of it really penetrate. This time I wanted to do it differently so I sat there for quite a while, speaking to Eric about the experience. I feel as though by being up there I must confront my mortality, my ultimate human frailty. I feel so small and powerless against the huge forces of nature. It’s as though in this place I come face to face with and must acknowledge a truth that isn’t very visible to me when I’m in my ordinary life.
We could have continued on and done a circuit but there was a particularly rough section coming up and we didn’t know quite what to expect, so decided to go back the way we had come. It had been challenge enough.
The next day we rested and later in the afternoon took a drive to Red Rock Canyon. On the way we were lucky enough to see a mother bear and a cub feeding quite close to the road. She seemed anxious and alert, not really happy to have us viewing her, being a protective mother bear, and putting on weight ready for the winter.
OUR DRIVE FROM SPOKANE TO GLACIER
8th – 9th September OUR DRIVE FROM SPOKANE TO GLACIER
On Monday 8th September we left the semi-arid Spokane, and our drive took us into Northern rural Idaho, known for its potatoes, and through the small towns of Coeur d’Alene, Sandpoint and Bonners Ferry.
In the early afternoon we crossed into Montana, and a more mountainous terrain replaced the farm fields of Idaho. A sign on the road explained that ahead there would be crosses marking the places where there had been fatal accidents. This came as an effective reminder and made me think of the many people whose lives have been affected by tragedies of this sort.
This beautiful drive also made me think of horse riding in the mountains (from the movies I expect) and I felt an inexplicable sort of sense of belonging although I’ve never been to Montana before. It did also remind me of my dear old school friend Bookey who taught me to ride many years ago in the Vumba Mountains.
For some way the road follows the path of the Kootenai River as it travels south through the Kootenai National Forest. We stopped at a viewpoint and then took a short hike down to the wide, fast flowing river, a series of staggered falls caused by various angled rock drops, and a pedestrian swing bridge.
It was almost dark when we finally stopped to lay our heads down at the Logan State Park, having lost an hour in the crossing of a time zone, and it wasn’t long before we were tucked up in bed.
This was a beautiful place to wake up to on a clear sunny chilly morning. We were beside the Thompson Lake, one of several lakes along that road, and the park, which has cabins as well as camping facilities, is popular with hunters and fishers. It is open all year round, open for ice fishing enthusiasts in winter.
We were headed for Montana’s Glacier National Park, which meets at the international border with Alberta’s Waterton National Park. In 1932 these 2 parks were designated the first International Peace Park. Separate countries administer Glacier and Waterton but cooperate to manage their natural and cultural resources. “The wild plants and animals ignore political boundaries and claim the mountainous terrain on both sides of the border.” The parks which are in the Rockies, have been designated a joint World Heritage Site. “This recognition by the world community celebrates the International Peace Park’s rich geologic history, biological diversity, and dynamic cultural heritage.”
We entered the park at West Glacier and traveled around its southern extremity, across to East Glacier. This took us up to Marias Pass and the Continental Divide, where we stopped to take in the memorial to a certain John F. Stevens. The Blackfeet Nation has lived in these mountains for centuries and still does so today. They were the first to use horses as a means of transportation. Historically they were a very fierce people and no other peoples dared to try to find a way across the mountains, until, in the late 1800’s the civil engineer John Stevens, looking for a way through for the rail line, found this pass which was later named Marias Pass.
From East Glacier we traveled north to a small place called St. Mary where we found a KOA campground and booked in for 3 nights.
On Monday 8th September we left the semi-arid Spokane, and our drive took us into Northern rural Idaho, known for its potatoes, and through the small towns of Coeur d’Alene, Sandpoint and Bonners Ferry.
In the early afternoon we crossed into Montana, and a more mountainous terrain replaced the farm fields of Idaho. A sign on the road explained that ahead there would be crosses marking the places where there had been fatal accidents. This came as an effective reminder and made me think of the many people whose lives have been affected by tragedies of this sort.
This beautiful drive also made me think of horse riding in the mountains (from the movies I expect) and I felt an inexplicable sort of sense of belonging although I’ve never been to Montana before. It did also remind me of my dear old school friend Bookey who taught me to ride many years ago in the Vumba Mountains.
For some way the road follows the path of the Kootenai River as it travels south through the Kootenai National Forest. We stopped at a viewpoint and then took a short hike down to the wide, fast flowing river, a series of staggered falls caused by various angled rock drops, and a pedestrian swing bridge.
It was almost dark when we finally stopped to lay our heads down at the Logan State Park, having lost an hour in the crossing of a time zone, and it wasn’t long before we were tucked up in bed.
This was a beautiful place to wake up to on a clear sunny chilly morning. We were beside the Thompson Lake, one of several lakes along that road, and the park, which has cabins as well as camping facilities, is popular with hunters and fishers. It is open all year round, open for ice fishing enthusiasts in winter.
We were headed for Montana’s Glacier National Park, which meets at the international border with Alberta’s Waterton National Park. In 1932 these 2 parks were designated the first International Peace Park. Separate countries administer Glacier and Waterton but cooperate to manage their natural and cultural resources. “The wild plants and animals ignore political boundaries and claim the mountainous terrain on both sides of the border.” The parks which are in the Rockies, have been designated a joint World Heritage Site. “This recognition by the world community celebrates the International Peace Park’s rich geologic history, biological diversity, and dynamic cultural heritage.”
We entered the park at West Glacier and traveled around its southern extremity, across to East Glacier. This took us up to Marias Pass and the Continental Divide, where we stopped to take in the memorial to a certain John F. Stevens. The Blackfeet Nation has lived in these mountains for centuries and still does so today. They were the first to use horses as a means of transportation. Historically they were a very fierce people and no other peoples dared to try to find a way across the mountains, until, in the late 1800’s the civil engineer John Stevens, looking for a way through for the rail line, found this pass which was later named Marias Pass.
From East Glacier we traveled north to a small place called St. Mary where we found a KOA campground and booked in for 3 nights.
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