In the first week of October we went to the Rockies to celebrate (a few days belatedly) our 23rd anniversary. We stayed in Jasper, which had been ravaged by a wildfire last year. We had invited a friend, Michelle, out from Saskatchewan and she was looking forward to seeing some topography lol.
We spent the first day in Jasper catching up from our monumental 16 hour drive across the province, which was particularly brutal because we’d got up at 3:00 am to catch the first ferry from Nanaimo to Vancouver.
We had two main objectives: hiking into Boundary Glacier and into Hilda Glacier. I’d bombed on both a few years ago, and while I had redeemed myself at Hilda last year, I hadn’t at Boundary. I still had to make it from the alluvial fan up into the glacier cirque itself. It was a tricky hike because the fan had expanded into the trees, obscuring the trail and requiring that you walk up a random rocky slope to find the actual moraine trail.
On the second day of our trip, we walked around the lake on fresh snow, then stepped onto the alluvial fan. Its present iteration had formed sometime in the last ten years, when meltwater had gushed out of the cirque, mobilizing morainal debris and other rocks to fan out across the slope. The rocks were semi-rounded and a bit slick from the snow, so we stumbled our way up and back into the woods where the trail reappeared. Then back on the rocks to one big boulder that marked the trail over the moraine and into the cirque. We slowly walked up the short switchbacks on the moraine trail, coming out at the top into the glacier floodplain, with a view of the glacier up against the back wall of the cirque. It was my greatest achievement of the trip, having come this far only once before, 15 years ago. It’s a hike I’ll definitely do again, though the trail cam at the entrance to the forest makes me wonder if Parks Canada is going to start advertising this largely unknown hike.
The next day Michelle and I went up the Jasper SkyTram and hiked to the false summit of Whistler’s Mountain. We had forgotten our hiking poles and it was a narrow path to the real summit, with steep drop offs on either side of the trail. It was windy and chilly, but we were prepared with toques and jackets to stay warm. We should have stopped in the café up there for a hot chocolate, but I was worried about getting the right tram back down the mountain, even though Michelle told me later that we could change our tram times at the top if we wanted to. It was a difficult hike, almost straight up the side of the mountain. Many tourists were doing the climb, and one man was holding his partner’s hand as they came down, saying she hadn’t worn the right shoes and was slipping and sliding on the way down. Michelle had recommended we take the easier trails that looped off the side of the main trail on the way down, as they weren’t nearly as steep and were easier to navigate without hiking poles. It was a good decision.
The view from the top of Whistler’s Mountain were phenomenal (except my phone pics are terrible). Especially the sight of the burn scar around Jasper. You could see how big it was, and where it had burned in town. Driving through town you could see a gas station with melted pumps, and a church with only its stone walls still standing—the wood had all burned away.
The next day I had to sleep in so we didn’t get out the door until 12 noon. We drove to Athabasca Glacier and arrived to a snowstorm. Our plan had been to hike into Dome Glacier, but we hadn’t gone far before it was obvious that Silah was not doing well. The snow was blowing sideways and right into her eyes—it must’ve hurt because it was sure hurting me! Dave took Silah back to the truck and Michelle and I kept going. Then I remembered that I had Silah’s water dish and water in my pack so we turned around and went back to the truck. As we drove away, the snow dissipated and turned to light rain and then nothing. We were there at just the wrong time, when a cold front was blowing in.
The next day Dave and I went to Hilda Glacier. There was about 10 cm of fresh snow on the trail, enough to show tiny animal tracks: mice, maybe? Or voles? We climbed up the moraine to the spot where we got married, and discovered that Silah had cut her foot and was leaving blood marks in the snow. We had some lunch and a swig from our flask (always best with chocolate), then headed back to the truck. I had a huge anxiety attack on the way down the moraine, as the gravel was partially frozen and had a skiff of snow on top, making it particularly tricky. I used my quad muscles a lot to stabilize myself on the way down, but made it in one piece. I also made it through the anxiety attack without taking meds, which was also a win.
We got up at 6:30 am the next morning to start our long drive back to the Coast. Along the way we talked about what a nice trip it had been, but we wondered about the cost of staying in Jasper and the personal toll of driving there in one day and back again in one day. Silah enjoyed walking around town, and we did, too—it was nice to be able to walk to the grocery store and the bakery. Or to take Silah out to do her business along street-lighted sidewalks. We marvelled at the number of tourists still in town during what had traditionally been the shoulder season. This was reflected in the cost of accommodations: they remain high in October because the tourists were still there. We feel like we’re being priced out of staying in the mountain parks and, even if we go in our trailer earlier in September, it’s hard to get a campsite. It leaves us with the conundrum of how often we go to the Rockies, where do we stay, what do we do while there, how long do we stay, etc.
Also Silah’s getting older (she’s 10.5), and she doesn’t like walking on unstable surfaces, which we discovered when we hiked up the alluvial fan. She really didn’t like it. She prefers well-worn trails, like the one into Hilda Glacier.
All in all we enjoyed our trip but were stunned by all the people at that time of year. Jasper has been overrun with tour buses and tourists and people taking selfies in front of the terrible new “Jasper” sign.
Perhaps we should just keep our memories of the Rockies and go back intermittently instead of annually. Or go for big events like our 25th anniversary in two years. Something to think about.
