1. Across the Divide…

Reading this comes with a warning. I have literally no idea what I’m doing. I cant spell. I can’t really read. And my writing is bloody awful. But.. my adventures will be amazing!

18TH TRAIL SHORTS, TIES AND A CUP OF TEA.
I’m wondering how people manage to live in a city like Calgary when there’s so much else to see just an hour away. Folk walking down the street, their heads down buried in phones whilst they’re on their way to the next meeting. All they need to do is look to the West and even from the streets of Calgary the Rockies are clear! Anyway whilst these folk are heading to work we’re sticking out like a sore thumb with big backpacks on and  awful flip flop tan lines! Feels kind of embarrassing and intimidating when your in an environment that’s completely out of your comfort zone. How do you get on and off of a tram? How do the buses work in a big city?? How do you cross the street even? Feels like everyone is judging you all the time. I’m sure these city folk would feel the same placed in my comfort zone out in the expanse of the mountains surrounded by nothing but mountains, high crags and hungry bears. Maybe I’ll ask them one day!? Probably not. Don and Rita still putting a smile on our faces thinking about the pumpkin and chocolate chip bread loaf they gave us for our travels. That’ll keep us going for a while they said. MEC for some last minute supplies. Good chat with dad today, a belated HFD. Would love for him to come out here and see what I’m seeing, I know he’d like it. Maybe not Calgary but the mountains and rivers, and the wildlife too. Sat in good earth coffee eating away the time until Greyhound at 11pm. It’s now 3pm. Bags are feeling heavy already even without food. I think the new bag novelty will wear off pretty fast when I see how heavy it’ll be tomorrow with a week of scran inside. Bit of organising in the coffee shop. Making a mess as per.

Sat amongst the suits and ties, briefcases and MacBooks, im in my trail shorts, flipflops and a really smelly wind shell I forgot to wash before we set off – I think it was hot chocolate down the front if it. Doesn’t help with the minor ‘city self consciousness’. I f**king love it though, being a virtual hobo in amongst the Lacoste and the Gucci! Had a brief discussion about declination with Nicola before embarking on the biggest challenge of my life. Neither of us can figure it out. We decided on a ‘she’ll b roite’ approach. How hard can it be. Time will tell.

Highlights of the day…

Walking into the Greyhound Station laden with our bags, a double denim wearing, Jesus like beard wielding redneck pipes up and yorps, ‘those fishing rods you got there?’ to which I responded with a nod. ‘Think I love y’all a little bit’ he responded … I prepare to shout ‘fire’!

Message at the popsicle bar was one to remember for the hike ahead, ’embrace the unexpected’.

Arrive at Pincher 4am 19th June

19TH and 20TH. THE RAINBOWS BEFORE THE STORM.

I’m not talking about any old rainbows. I’m talking about 12 inch fin perfect bars of silver and green. Beautiful pink flanks and the most intricate black speckles you’ve ever seen. Our first Canadian fish on the fly! Apparently lots of the trout around here are much the same. That’s according to Gordie, Lauries partner; they’re the hosts of the campsite we’re staying at in Pincher Creek. They’re avid bird watchers and have seemingly adopted a pair of Great Horned Owls that reside in the trees near the campsites washrooms. The Veterans Memorial Campsite here is wonderful, and I highly recommend it to anyone staying in the area. I think I’ll even miss the hooting of the owls.

So the 4am pitching the tent turned out ok, nice and tucked away in the corner of the campsite, next to the river and beneath the canopy of the trees…. On the mother of all ants nests. Seriously I rekon this is some some sort of hero nest. They roam around in packs it’s quite intimidating. They’re not all that bad really, maybe they’re just serving as a reminder of the trials that lie ahead; like the weather forecast for our first 3 days of hiking. I think the phrase ‘risk of thunderstorms’ is mentioned no less than 4 times along with a grarly lightening symbol. Never mind it’s not like we’re heading up into the mountains…
I shan’t bore you with the delights of shopping in Walmart but 2kg of assorted nuts, a s**t tonne of chocolate, and the odd packet of Mi Goreng later, we’re pretty much ready to go.

A final safety inspection from Mother Hallam confirms my fears, I really don’t have a clue what I’m doing for the next 2 months, a good luck chat from a few others helps a bit, and we’re off.

Still not a clue what declination is.
As expected new bag novelty is now gone.

Let’s hope there are no storms after the rainbows!

21ST The Beginning – Twin Bute to Yarrow Basin.

The first of 60 days of adventure. The first section, Twin Bute to Coleman. 7 days. There will be regular updates on my Facebook page, GPS coordinates for where we get to each day and maybe a photo or two. Report on the 29th ish….

2. Across the Divide – The beginning.

Day 1 A day of 2 halves.

Am and pm couldn’t possibly have been more contrasting if they had tried! After spotting my first snake or ‘Nope Rope’ of the trip and a couple of hitches from Gerome and Ashley, we we’re at the start of our GDT. While the mornings weather was enough to give us the start of our awful hiker tan, the afternoons was likened to the apocalypse. A large dark cloud collecting in the valley behind, started grumbling as we neared yarrow basin. The storm clouds chased us up the valley, with the unmistakable dark wavy vertical lines of torrential rain not far behind.

Hiking into Yarrow Basin, the view behind not so nice.

As forecast, the heavens gave us a royal welcome to the the southern Canadian Rockies, 4 and a half hours of hammering rain, lightening strikes bringing rocks tumbling down the steep valley walls and grape sized hailstones so loud on the tent we had to shout to each other to find out which of our Mr Noodle flavors we were having for tea. Oh and the tent leaked like a sieve. Commencing ‘rainwatch’. You sleep for and hour and I’ll stop the water coming in, then we’ll swap, deal? Deal!
Thankfully the storm hadn’t taken away from the joys of the beautiful wildflowers, the ground squirrels yapping to one another and the fantastic views in the morning sun. Welcome to the GDT.

Tiny Forget – Me – Nots on the hike in.

22nd
A 6 o’clock start got us up and into the rolling mists of Big Horn pass and along the western traverse of Newman Peak well before the forecasted lightening in the PM.

Looking back at camp 1 from high on Big Horn Pass.

The following Avion ridge on the border of Waterton NP provided us some insight as to why the parks wildfires the previous year had forced full closure and an alternative start to the trail. As we hiked along the ridge at 2400m we didn’t really talk much. Perhaps we were somewhat terrorized by the events of the previous day. I think we we’re still a bit apprehensive about what was to come. We’ll settle in I’m sure.

Watertons fire damage. Still stunning.

Hiking gives you plenty of time for thought and self reflection and I decided to use my time wisely. I designed a wind strength rating system based on how tight I need my snapback hat to be for it to stay on my head. Its not your average scale so bare with me;

2 – Appropriate only if wind is non existent and I have a minor headache. Reduces pressure on the cranium.
3 – Run of the mill standard breeze with mild gusts of around 15kph, usually an acceptable level for day to day use.
4 – Bat s**t crazy weather when 4 poppers get popped on the old and stinky, now turning to brown Outdoor Research snapback.
5 – Apocalyptic weather, bears, mountain lions and the odd tree are now airborne, they appear to be spinning round in some sort of tornado based weather system. Hikers should think strongly about heading out in this kind of weather, maybe an umbrella would help.
6 – NOPE! There’s no way I would fit my massive swede in my hat under these sorts of constraints. Probably pretty poor weather also.
©joehallam

As the crow flies the day was around 5 km, a wild 18 later and we arrive at the camp for the night. Many many river crossings, wet feet, minor bush whacking and lots of bear poo. All but a brief summary.

23rd.
Not so much to write about today. Plain and simple morning of hiking a narrow trail shrouded in either trees or cloud. A little uninspiring but a good test for the waterproofs. We are already craving some big mile days. I’m sure tomorrow will suffice on La Coulette. Shared campsite with fellow GDT hikers John and Sydney.

Yellow Trout Lilly at camp collecting unwelcome rain.

Reminiscing…
A long trail from Dervaig to Freya with ample opportunity for shedding weight from the underside of our heavily laden car; a sump guard or a part of the exhaust perhaps. It eventually terminated at the most beautiful highland retreat. Sandy beach, turquoise water and stunning views out to Eigg, Muk, Rhum and maybe Cannna; on a rare good weather day, this is Scotland after all. A small black wooden clad cottage set slightly on the hill with white framed large glass windows on the front looking out towards the western isles. Mum and Dad’s dream retreat and a young boys ultimate playground. I remember my brother and I being dragged out hiking to Ardlanish, Calgary and Gribun and doing nothing but complaining the whole way. Now look at me. Things have changed somewhat. Shame the weather hasn’t. Looks like rain watch again this evening.

3. Across the Divide – The Crux and Beyond.

La Coulette.

24th
Following the footsteps of another before you is kind of reassuring sometimes in the high mountains. Just a little reminder that you might be in the right place. Looking for the footsteps of the GDT duo ahead of us was bottom of the list however with the weather that greeted us for La Coulette. Probably one of the best mountain days I’ve had. For the best part, I’ll let the photos do the talking.

Southern Coulette ridge behind us.

Atop the 1st of 5 summits along the ridge.

The long Coulette Ridge now behind.

With the 5 peaks of the Coulette smashed out and a hefty descent down into the valley we erected our simple home next to the West Castle River, both of us a little surprised by how well we managed with the Crux of Section A.

Introducing out latest camp friend ‘Socks’. A big brown rabbit with white feet and a serious attitude. He had been lurking around camp for most of the evening coming within a metre or so of us and our tent. In all honesty he just turned out to be a bit of a dick! Nicola was not pleased as he sauntered up to the tent and proceeded with his attempt to eat our clothes as they were drying in the sun. Merino must be an acquired taste. He surprised us further when at 3 am we woke to find he had infiltrated the tents outer defence system and was now also eating my stove. I really don’t know what we had done to upset him but his vendetta was clear. Pesky rabbit! Maybe he was friends with the Trout…

There were a few small pools along the West Castle River which were easily within reach of a little nymph dragged along the river bed primed and ready to trick any fish lay in waiting. A little opportunism, expertise and a plethora of exquisite techniques, my first Cutthroat Trout comes to the net. A stunning fish covered in speckles with a fiery under belly and bright red linear markings beneath the gills which give the cutthroat their name. So very happy.

25th

The following day started a little earlier than planned with the rabbit/stove dilemma. The following 27kms were mostly forest bound with limited views but plenty of bear tracks to maintain our interest. When the bear tracks ran out a cougar seemed to join the trail instead. Wonderful…. bloody cougars! Walking through the narrow fire roads involved some serious bush whacking. I think the guide said ‘if it has rained, prepare for a car wash’, thankfully it was dry. It did seem like we were following Shelob though (that giant badass spider from Lord of the Rings). So many webs to the face. I’m glad that most webs we’re vacant, their owners elsewhere.

No subtitle required for this! Fury Tractor.

The Greatly Overgrown Divide trail.

The 8 legged pests aroused talk of the possums Nicola hated so much on her Te Araora in New Zealand. The kiwis bloody hate possums. Apparently, according to a friend I met in Banff they actually have a ‘whack a possum’ day each year to try and get rid of some. The more you kill the more you earn. But the Aussies love them! Yeah nah!

And so we arrived at Lynx Creek Campground our home for the evening. The same evening routines gave us time to fish the creek and for the second day running Canadian water delivered with what I thought was a rainbow/cutthroat hybrid. (Later confirmed to have been a ‘cutbow’ #wordsmash). A long fight in a super clear turquoise blue pool. It felt like I had earned this one! I could get used to this fly fishing business.

Out of the blue Sydney and John arrived at the campsite and filled us in with the details of their Coulette day. They later joined us by our campsite fire with some nice cold beers and some crisps to refuel everyone’s weary legs. We chatted about each other’s hiking climbing and fishing experiences as well as odd English phrases they didn’t understand, until way past hiker bed time. The fire wood ran out the embers darkened and we all headed to bed. Willoughby ridge the next day. Another 22km. Wish for big mile days… GRANTED!

26th

A late start and a steady 20km of Willoughby Ridge. Mainly and uneventful day and if I’m honest as I’m writing I’m busy eating a BBQ chicken sandwich on a cheesy pizza bread with avacado and Mayonnase. Safe to say my attention is else where.

A steady climb into the ridge and 10km of ridgeline ish hiking with stunning views. Drawing the attention of other hikers towards the presence of the residents in the area.

The final challenge of the day was a small area of dead fall spread out over 3km. It slowed process significantly as you can imagine. Thankfully Nicola ‘shredder’ Winter volunteered to smash a path through.

Note to self : dead pine trees could replace barbed wire.

The next 2 days in Coleman and Blairemore resupplying eating chicken and catching trout. Lost lemon campsite is amazing and very reasonably priced. Clothes washed, hot showers and an outdoor pool! Not fond of the mirrors though. They make me look dirty and stinky.

I’m pretty sure we’re living the dream. Again the weather forecast says I spoke too soon.

Section B Coleman to Peter Lougheed.

190km

8 days.

4. Across the Divide – Rain, Poison and Beautiful People

Commence the scheduled 2 rest days in Coleman, enough time to refuel and get some supplies sorted for the next 8 days. Most of the time spent in a Stones Throw Cafe, a reasonable diner recommended to us by a pair of ladies who saw us and suggested we needed a coffee. I didn’t think we looked that tired. The expected ‘wow, you didn’t die’ phone call came from mum and dad during my rest day feast. Introducing numerous pastries, grilled cheese sandwich, 3 Sausage rolls, an avocado, 2 pizza cheese rolls, half a chicken and a Cornetto. That was just the beginning..
After a whizz round the local food store, the pack was feeling lighter despite the longer section ahead. I think I dialed the food amounts this time. Might have packed out some Nutella though. And some pizza cheese rolls. I’ll eat these first, they’re the heaviest.

8 days of food. Light and minimal apart from the entire top row.

Once again we abandoned civilisation and apparently our sanity, leaving behind the Lost Lemon campsite and all of the RVs with their poo tubes and showers. Seriously I think they have these little A-frame things which give the poop tube the perfect angle to drain poop into the poop chamber in the ground. I think its so you don’t have to jiggle your poop down the tube each morning.

Plopping in the bushes is ok with me.

Again the forecast was for rain, lots of rain. In the end we were surprised about the sunshine for this first day. The Gophers were squeaking in the sun and the views of Crowsnest mountain we’re stunning.

At the beginning of the day we passed a huge ATV meet in the forest area but soon found ourselves surrounded by nothing but trees and some ever darkening and somewhat vocal clouds.

And so began 8 days of various precipitation types. The first of which was a nice little rainstorm. Bliss compared to Yarrow times. We hid under a tree for an hour playing I spy.

The Canadian woodland reminding me of the dangers of erectile dysfunction as a long day in the woods came to an end.

We bagged an extra 8 kms today to lessen the load for tomorrow. Set up camp at Alexander creek just before the second batch of rain and hail. Tent appears to be water proof. :).

Wildlife attacks! Our first threatening wildlife encounter. I guess it goes to show how far a mother will go to look after her young. Nicola screamed as she was hiking behind me, I assumed she was getting mauled by a mountain lion but a small grouse scurried into the undergrowth along with all but one of it’s young. We scraped through this savage encounter luckily unscathed.

Somehow we managed to meet John and Sydney again. I think they’re stalking us. I debated greeting them from the bushes with my signature bear noise, but had second thoughts after the idea of getting pepper sprayed crossed my mind. We hiked on and made some room for them at the seemingly deserted Dutch Creek Campground. Sitting beneath both Funnel and Tornado Mountain with Gould Dome to the south it’s a stunning place to spend the evening sharing it with the Pikas amongst the big boulder field.

Pikas in the rocks.

The Lethbridge duo arrived and informed us about some essential bush whacking ahead. A path around a huge amount of avalanche debris. This would prove useful the following day. Sydney seems to love the brummy accent we’ve shown her and keeps impersonating it with surprisingly great results.

What a tank of a day. The previous evening at Dutch Creek we’d said that this day, a measly 22km would be a rest day. Nah mate. Today gave us what I assumed at the time to have been a glimpse of what to expect for the next 6 and a half weeks. Not even close, even this day was ‘easy’.
The light bush whacking turned out to be a rather pleasant change from the atv roads of the last 200km or so emerging from the trees to be greeted with some outstanding views of the valley of the previous evening.

Emerged from the bushes, Tornado saddle ahead.

Dubbed as one of the hardest climbs on the entire trail the following Tornado saddle ascent was straight forward despite it’s drastic reputation. It was very similar to heading up of of the many scree slopes of the Lake District, accessing crags such as Scafell or Pavey Ark. Before the hike I missed the lakes something terrible. I think I’ve got a little bit too much on my mind to be missing anything right now. Appart from a some hash browns from McDees, a burger and some chips. Choco milkshake as well please.

With Tornado saddle conquered we descended the east side of the pass. Lovely single track hiking along the creek brought us to the monster climb ahead. All food was gone with 10km to go. This truly was a s**t time. Tired and hungry Joe is a little worse then the Satan himself.

By now I’ve probably doubled my total nights in a tent. Longest camping trip prior being 3 days and 10 miles in total. A mate bought a 24 pack of bottled Stella with him. Hardly ultralight. I think I’m doing alright apart from a slight twinge in the ‘no ACL knee’ and the fact that I keep tripping over s**t cause I’m looking at the view or the animals.

Hunger is growing day by day. The food bag is like a test of will power each time I see it. ‘Oooh just one more peanut and then I’ll put them away’. 1 hour later and, ‘it looks like it’s gravel for dinner tomorrow’…. Loving the noodles which is a good job. Not looking forward to the mint chocolate chip protein powder I’m using as milk later on though. Cache Creek food and sleep. Another big day tomorrow.

The GDT continues to test us with a leaking tent and permanently wet kit. A big ascent 1st thing through some white stuff on the floor. Can anyone identity this white stuff? Its like snow but falls in July. Despite hail and snow we managed to get some stunning views of Beehive Mountian and the surrounding areas.

A slightly shorter day as we didn’t fancy the extra 10km. We camped and dealt with leaking tent again. A bit if a blow today, Nicolas hands showing up in big blisters which we think is poison ivy.

33km day to James’ lake.
I think a nomadic amazonian tribesman would have been more at home in today’s environment. Big broad leaf plants and trees making the most of the piss wet through climate our feet are beginning to hate so much. A constant pitter patter of rain drops on the hood of your waterproof coat and a consistent grey looming in the skies above. When we thought it had gotten hard, today pushed us that bit further. Rain most of the day again with the odd view or two. Found some moose antlers which was probably the highlight of the day.

When we finally arrived at James’ lake, a stunning place to spend the night nestled between Armstrong and Baril peaks. A small little lake, crystal clear and full of small fish. Im sure it’s even more lovely in the dry. Oh did I mention it had been raining a lot….?
We gave up on rain watch this evening, placing a higher value on sleep.

Theodore Rimspoke – a childhood memory on the mind. Dont know why. Google it….

James’ Lake to Elk Lake Campground.

I’ll give everyone a break from the monotony of more Coleman to Peter Lougheed hiking stories and summarise it quickly ish and add a multitude of photos.

Forest – Pass – River – Forest – Service Road.

Forest

Pass

Pass

River

Forest

Poison ivy blisters are becoming really painful and looking nasty. We decided it was time to get to civilisation asap as we didn’t know about the symptoms, the cures or how serious they could be.
Bears aren’t a myth. Nicola isn’t carrying an anti-bear device. Huffing and puffing black bear made me poop a little as she chased her cub into the bush. I guess this is her way of saying ‘try me and you’ll die’. Every time I see one now it makes me think of the bear quotes everyone would send me as a joke before setting off on the hike. ‘If you get near a bear play dead because in two minutes you will be’. ‘Fighting a bear with a knife. Stab repeatedly until you die’ etc.

Eventually we came out of the woods to Mt Bleasdell and Quarrie Peak seemingly in the middle of nowhere and yet we came across a wonderful man Chris in his Jurassic Park van. He gave Nicola some cream and told us about ivy. It seems he was prepared for the apocalypse as his 1st aid kit was the size of a small suitcase. He wouldn’t accept any money for the multiple creams and ointments that he gave us. After asking us if we needed any food or water he headed off and left us to dry our kit out in the first sun we had seen in 6 days.

Just another photo to make a big bunch of words look smaller.

One final slightly sketchy river crossing was the straw that broke the camels back and a few tears came to Nicolas eyes. Initially the talk of having to get off trail because of a plant had frustrated me a little but she had done so well to put up with them this far. It was time to have the chat. 6pm and with 15 km to go that evening we made a really hard call to hitch the final part of the gravel road to our final campsite with the hope of getting some proper medication the following day. The lovely couple that picked us up agreed to take us to the camping spot providing we’d join them in feeding the horses on the way. A strange request but any port in a storm I guess. And so we gratefully arrived at the most stunning campsite we’d ever seen.

A great moral boost to make up for the trials of the previous week. And the sun was out. Turns out the sun would be out for the next 5 days. :).

Section B. ✓ Zeros by the Kananaskis await.

Humans are Great. No Hiking Just Beautiful People.

Over and over again I am completely taken aback by the wonderful nature of the Canadian people. Firstly the free cake in Calgary now this. The first people we hitched a lift with ( also the 1st car that came by ) picked us up but had to stop at the store on the way to our destination. Shannon and Mike their two daughters and a big fluffy dog. They left us in the back of the pickup as they went to the shop to organise their days canoeing on the kananaskis lakes. They then returned with a big bottle of cream and some other medication they had bought from the Trading Post for Nicolas worsening blisters. They refused to take any money. Sat outside of the Peter Lougheed Visitors Centre having collected our resupply box it was inevitable that people would start asking questions. Why did we have a large box of hugely calorific treats beside us? How we had just manage to eat and whole box of brownies and 500grams of peanut m’n’m’s in approximately 30 seconds? And why did we smelt like a gathering of homeless people congregating in a Green House … mixed with poo. Family after family came by asking us about our plans and the difficulties of the previous few days. One family asking if we need a ride anywhere. We said no thanks and they left. 2 minutes later they pulled up next to us and the Mum of the family jumped out of the car ran over and dropped a hand full of chocolates onto our lap whilst apologising for being unable to help with the hand aids. Another man noticed Nicolas hand and suggested he has a cure better than anyone elses. Nicola followed him to his van (sounds odd but hear me out) where he showed her a miniature cupboard filled with tiny veils of different ointments and oils, peppermint, lavender, and most importantly frankincense. Apparently it works wonders for poison ivy blisters. If its good enough for Baby Jesus it’s good enough for Nic. He gave her a small amount of it and asked if she would email her and tell him how she got on with it. What a guy! And these are just the people who gave us stuff. Countless others noticing our apparent homelessness were eager to ask questions and share with us their own experiences from before they had their new hip or when they were just a nipper. A much needed pick me up after a hard week and a perfect kick for the next section in 2 days. Banff we’re coming back.

GET KETTLE ON!

5. Across the Divide – How’s the Hand Nicola? ‘Still a bit stiff’

Zeros at Kananaskis.

Zeros are a great kind of day, a day in which zero miles are hiked and lots of food is eaten!

Nicolas hands needed time to heal so this was the perfect time. I couldn’t help but notice the familiarity to the Hot Fuzz line ‘how’s the hand Nicolas’. Tickled our bellies.

A lovely lady gave us her pitch as she was leaving for the weekend. We had already checked all other campsites in the valley and they all seemed to be booked up, I think the time used eating a head sized ice cream at Bolton Creek Trading Post was most likely to blame for the lack of camping opportunities at that time of day. It was totally worth it. Anyway we set up and started taking some photos of the unreal view of the mountains from Interlakes campsite, when a huge fish took a Caddis Fly from the surface of the lake 10m out.

Mt Wintour from camp.

Safe to say we ran to the tent picked up our kit and started flailing our fishing gear around frantically trying to lure the beast in. Whilst I did manage a stunning Bull Trout that evening I don’t think it was the monster we had seen before. A nice guy called Izaha and his father Dave came over and helped me land the fish noticing quickly the absence of my own net. Thank you Dave and Izaha, and thank you Bow Valley Troutfitters for the fly recommendation. Shopping in that place comes with a warning, I popped in to get another fly or 2 for the trail and came out having spent $80. Worth it if you get the results though.
I ended up having a great time chatting with these two Calgary folk for the next two days, they’re really interesting guys with a dog called daisy who hates hats.
Anyway the next 2 days were spent chilling in the tent reading about the PCT, listening to music by the fire and eating what food I thought I wouldn’t need for the next 4 days to Banff. That and a lot of fishing of course. Turns out that 2 days running you can eat your recommend daily calorie intake in nothing but peanut butter and not turn into a legume.

Section C Kananaskis to Banff.

A glimpse of was to come at Upper Kananaskis Lake.

I feel like the first day of this section was harder for Nicola than it was for me. In the mad rush to get rid of unnecessary food back at Interlakes I had consumed an obscene amount of protein over a very very short space of time. I guess using protein powder for milk can make that happen. Anyway I’m not entirely sure my body was ready for that protein overload and I’m pretty confident that Nicolas nasal region wasn’t ready for the consequences of eating it.
‘Joe that smells like an old wet donkey’ I think was my favourite, ‘sloppy dog poop’ and the classic ‘you smell like s**t’ cropped up a few times and I can honestly say I’m not sure if it was my bottom or my armpits that provoked the obscenities. I don’t think trumps will ever cease to amuse me especially if I’m with my girlfriend and she is stood down wind.

Looking back towards Mount Lyautey

Apparently looking backwards reaps some amazing rewards. Mt Putnik.

Our aim for the early afternoon. North Kananaskis Pass aside Mt Morde.

Thankfully the smell of donkeys was quite easily forgotten as we both agreed this was the most beautiful section of the hike so far. I think it’s clear why. This probably coincides with the fact it’s was the first part of the hike we had actually been able to see, owing to the lack of rain. We past upper Kananaskis Lake, Lawson Lake and up onto North Kananaskis Pass, this is what we came here to see! Outstanding!

North Kananaskis Pass nailed.

Prince Edward and King George in there somewhere.

800m of descend into the valley and a short sharp climb brought us to camp for the evening sat beneath Mount Monro, Mount Tipperary and the last bit of Palliser Pass. 28km smashed! What a day to remember.

Probably the best days hiking yet but not without challenge. After desceding Palliser Pass to the North we bumped into yet more hikers. Introducing Team SOBO SAM. Southbound Sisters And Mum, Judy, Gina and Heather were quick to offer us coffee which we gladly accepted in exchange for some information on any challenges they had to come. Having hiked their upcoming section over the last 2 weeks we felt this information was well worth the coffee they gave us.

When am I going to learn?! Seriously Joseph when are you going to get it you moron.

It dawned on me today that it might not be fatigue that accounts for the 100 or so trips, slips and falls I seem to be having each day. Or at least the tiredness isn’t entirely to blame. Today we passed some of the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen. Birdwood, Smuts and Shark to the east, Leman, Levan and Currie to the west, walking through a beautiful flat meadow surrounded by mountains was unreal.

Nicola was clearly enjoying herself.

In the rearview mirror at midday.

More hills and stuff .

The rivers were something made in a fisherman’s dream. It was utter torture passing and leaving behind the Spray and Whiteman rivers and then the adjoining Bryant Creek all of which reminded me of the Wye back in Derbyshire. Crystal clear water, turquoise tint made stronger by the beaming sun. Eddies, riffles and deep pools all perfect places for more beautiful Cutthroat.

The Whiteman.

The Spray.

I think this is why I spent so much time tripping over my walking poles or stubbing my toes on ‘hidden’ roots. We managed just under 30kms today albeit very flat ones and made it to Big Springs Campsite. A primitive site but in a beautiful place surrounded by the type of peaks that gave this mountain range its name. 1 and a half days to Banff. And a maccys!

Still getting used to views like this one.

With news of good weather from SOBO SAM the previous day, both Nicola and I were really excited for this, the last full day of hiking before our stop in Banff. We’d heard rumours of the stunning area between Wonder Pass (our first obstacle) and Sunshine Village and we were eager to get started despite the 3rd 30km day in a row. Unfortunately we woke to a dull flat light barely making it through the green outer of our home. A tentative peek out of the canvas confirmed our fears, a blanket of low cloud and drizzle shrouding Assiniboine and it’s neighbours. We would not manage to see the Matterhorn of the Rockies today.

Marvelous Marvel Lake

The beginning of the day turned out well with elevation bringing less and less drizzle. The half arsed precipitation stopped just in time for us reaching the top of Wonder Pass, the cloud lifted and the views back to the South we’re outstanding. Giant rock towers standing tall over a Gloria Lake and Lake Marvel, so blue with ‘rock flour’ it looked like a painting. The North had also cleared to an extent and our path towards Og, Gog, Magog Lakes and eventually Citadel pass was clear.

Some of the best views of the day.

Marvel Lake now beneath us. Wonder Pass done.

Now with regards to the rest of the day all I can describe to you is the very limited view you get from inside the constraints of a snug Arcteryx hood. A rocky path of varying quality weaving through the Valley of the Rocks, the sweat stained peak of my filthy cap and a rhythmic pattern of walking poles and lower legs repeatedly entering the bottom of frame. Being trapped in this little Goretex bubble was emotional! And shit! Maybe we should have taken PJ’s recommendation on board and just driven to Kakwa instead. This went on for some 3.5 hours until we arrived bedraggled and hungry at porcupine campground. This section for me was really really hard. I’d heard amazing things and done some comprehensive research on this area and so my expectations were high. Of course Google lmages only shows you the perfect weather days, clear skies, blue lakes and cloud free mountains. I was naive enough to think it was like that all the time. I guess it hurt a bit to not see anything, knowing we’re not coming back.

Mount Assiniboine refusing to show itself. Looking back through the photos, whilst we didn’t have the picture perfect day the views we’re still outstanding and the guys a Assiniboine Lodge we’re lovely.

A huge bowl of noodles and couscous, a Snickers, a cereal bar, 2 cups of tea and a bowl of granola picked morale back up a little. We put our little remaining food in the food lockers to avoid encounters with savage animals such as the Rabbits and Weasel that roam camp and settled down for the night.

The home run to Sunshine Village took us little more than a morning. Up over Citadel pass with thankfully better weather than the previous afternoon.

Panoramas and Gophers and Gophers and more bloody Gophers. Don’t get me wrong I love the little fury weasel things but their incessant squeaking can frustrate a tired hiker. No more than the bear bells that so many of the hundreds of daft tourists we we’re now beginning to see we’re sporting. They love them, it’s like a fashion thing I think. In some parts of America the bear bells actually attract bears. They have associated bells with people and people with food. It’s like a dinner bell but for something that will probably eat your face and then your ham sandwich.

Passing many many lovely smelling people, (you really notice the smell of other people’s washing powder when all you can usually smell is age old dog kennel) we finally made it to Sunshine village. A slightly odd experience coming back to a place you skied all winter only to find it’s brown and green instead of white. Talking to each other about runs we used to like in snow and the places we crashed, jumps we used to do it was nice to be back.

Oh if only they knew. 400km down and 800km to go.

6. Across the Divide – Rockwall.

Leaving Banff felt hard. We spent a lot of time hanging out with friends having drinks and even managed to crash the High Country Inn staff bbq. The team were short of players for their game so I got roped into playing my first game of baseball. I thought this was supposed to be a rest day! Luke cooked us an amazing pulled pork joint, we had a huge breakfast at toululus and 2 extensive sessions at McDonald’s. Sausage and egg McMuffins are the tits! PJ, Sasha and Steph put us up at our old digs at 103, a shower and an actual bed. I feel like it was good for me and Nicola to be able to spend some time talking to other people though. It’s no surprise that 3 weeks sharing the same 2mx2m square with someone takes it’s toll a little. Even if it is your girlfriend. Also I couldn’t fart in public so Nicola got a much wanted break from my windy hoop.

It felt like we could connect better with the friends we had made during our winter season as we had something to tell them about and they us. When you live work and play with your colleagues friendships can plateau, you know everything each other is doing. We even bumped into Sharron our old boss which was nice under the circumstances as opposed to the usual ‘ Joe did you check under the bed in room 335?’ which inevitably meant I hadn’t. Leaving Banff was really hard! Nevertheless we bought a few essentials and Luke and Sasha dropped us off back at the Sunshine Resort.
As per, Sunshine Meadows was busy, the views we’re lovely and the bags were heavy. The Matterhorn of the Rockies, Mount Assiniboine was clear as day showing herself amidst other huge peaks. Maybe as way of an apology for hiding in the rain clouds 2 days prior.

Rock Isle Lakes Sunshine Meadows.

Looking back at the elusive Assiniboine.

Stunning wildflowers in the alpine meadows and unsurprisingly the gophers again. The day dragged a little bit and I felt fat and sluggish. Maybe it was all the maccies.
We flew over Healy Pass and descended to Egypt lake Campground. Lakes on top of lakes awaited with an ongoing theme in keeping with our campgrounds name. Pharaoh, Scarab and Mummy lakes sitting in huge glacial cirques, all sporting the same blue we had come to expect from the lakes of the Rockies. It was like a scene from Jurassic Park. We set up camp at site 15 and after some food and a little exploring we hit the sack preparing for the 30km the next day.

To the North from Healy Pass, Scarab and Egypt lakes beneath Scarab Peak.

Pharaoh Peaks.

From arriving till sleeping we had 5 hours. All we did was eat, have a nap and go for a little wander. It’s one of the best things about this hiking malarkey. There are few if any time constraints. You can just potter and chill. There’s never any pressure to do anything or go anywhere. No phone signal, no emails, no bosses or jobs, no need to fill up the car or use your bank card. You don’t even have wash up or make your bed. Best of all there’s no one to tell you what to do. Everything you need is on your back. It’s a wonderful feeling and I’m getting hooked.

Last night I learned the Latin for bears. Ursus Americanus was for the Black Bears and the quite aptly named Ursus Arctos Horibilis was the old grizzly. Yes it’s derived from the word horrible. Any way all of this is irrelevant because we didn’t see any today either.

As Phoebe arose and began warming the larger boulders in the scree on Whistling Pass, numerous scruffy balls of fur emerged and started stunning themselves. ( My grandfather always used to call the sun Phoebe, for reasons unknown, but I remember it well ). The Marmots lay down monitoring our movements as we wandered past, sometimes breaking out in outrageous battles with one another. They just look like a grumpy, old and very lazy Beaver but a bit smaller. They were nice to see and seemed quite tame.

Looking down towards Haiduk Lake from Whistling pass.

This bad ass carpet shooing us away!

The mozzys were especially bad today. In the last 3 weeks I think they have managed to penetrate every orifice on my being. One of these pests flew into my eye today and as usual it felt like a large bird had flown in. It brought me to a grinding halt, scrambling to get rid of my poles hurrying to dig him out, eyes watering and nose running. ‘Little tosser whose laughing now’ I said to myself as I dragged him out the corner of my eye, all wet, rolled up into a small black ball, two thirds of him missing. The eye must have swallowed the rest. I bloody hate mozzys.

We passed Ball Pass and Haiduk Lake, descended 800m and arrived at the Floe Lake Trailhead.

Haiduk Lake.

Ball Glacier from Ball Pass.

When you’re getting tired, the need for bedtime and food is fast approaching and someone tells you you’ve got another large stretch ahead of you, on occasion it would be nice to punch said person. This is how I felt about the sign at the bottom of the Floe Lake Trail. We’d already hiked 20km descended 1500m and gained 700m. The lovely sign told us that another 700m of up over 10km remained. Next time keep that sort of shit to yourself thanks pal.

The reward…

The campsite.

And the Floe Lake View.

And so on to the impressive Rockwall trail. Much the same as with Assiniboine I had done plenty of research on this section and had an idea of what to expect. The name even sounds cool and hell is it apt. Thankfully we woke to clear blue skies and not a breath of wind. With a shorter day ahead, just 17km we had a leisurely start fishing Floe Lake for an hour or so before leaving camp bellies full of granola and hot chocolate.

The fore warnings given to us by everyone we had passed the previous day about the “epic amounts of vertical” were soon validated as we finished the first climb of the day reaching Numa Pass, Foster Peak to the east and Numa to the west. A lovely flat meadow leading into with what looked like the abyss. 800m of descent to Numa Creek balanced out by 700m of up on the other side hitting Tumbling Pass. Top this off with a 400m of descend and you’re left with a summary of a short day in the life of a GDT thru hiker. At least it would have been a short day had we not spend hours obsessing over the continuous set of 3000m peaks on our one side littered with snowfields and glaciers cracking and creaking in the ever warming sun. A phenomenal day as yet unrivaled on our adventure. And this set the tone for the next 2 days.

Go and do the Rockwall Trail. Like now!

Today had me thinking about the fellas back at home and a trip we all did to the French Alps a few years ago. We went for the climbing but spent most of our money at ‘le pub’ being roped in by attractive waitresses and free peanuts. Matt, Paul, Andy and James, my days they would like it here. Picture the scene; Matt would probably be naked somewhere regardless of who was watching, either foraging in the bushes or swimming in the lake. Paul I imagine hiding his fair haired head from the sun probably cooking up the best part of a pig he hauled up here with him. James, with his back to the sign entitled ‘Floe Lake’ would be doing his best to convince us that we were at Tumbling Creek or some place else. Honestly James once spent a decent amount of time trying to convince us that chapatis were Italian. And finally Andrew. He would probably be rolling around on the floor trying to impersonate the resident animals.

Looking forward to seeing the lads again. It’ll not be too long.

In the same fashion as the previous day the remainder of the Rockwall kept delivering. Big days with big ascents and big summits all around. Even at the end of this, one of the best trails in Canada, Mount Goodsir and the North and South Towers came into view on the descent of Goodsir Pass, rivaling anything we’d seen over the last few days.

Looking back at the meat of the Rockwall. Tumbling Glacier, Pass and Mountain behind us.

The Goodsir range filling the gap where the Rockwall once was.

With the Goodsirs behind us and a naff campsite at McArthur Creek we settled down near the Patrol Cabin 35 degrees on the thermometer. I didn’t mention the outrageous heat. The sun went down leaving us very ready for bed, a 5am start forecast the next day.

It was 4 degrees in the morning, a bit of a shock to the system but when eggs and bacon await 25km ahead, you get up! And so we did, and smashed 25km before lunch time. We must have been hungry. Section C done!

Camp next to the Ottertail River

Sunset

And sun rise.

7. Across the Divide – Do You Like Bush?

Section D. Field to Saskatchewan Crossing. In the past I’ve written a section of blog for each individual day of our hike. A bit of a change for this bit and you’ll soon come to understand why. I’m not sure what went through the minds of the GDT association when they categorised this stretch under the ‘great’ divide. I’d have thought the letter D was for dissatisfied, disappointment, dog shite or simply divert. Infact after looking extensively through the Oxford dictionary I found out that there aren’t actually enough negative words that begin with D to do this section justice. So if you’ve seen the film Django… The D is silent, apply that to every bad word you can think of and that’ll just about summarise the 60miles of bush, rivers and fallen trees in section D. Dcrap, dbollocks, dawful, dhorrible, dtortourous, dnaff and so on. My feelings for a lot of this, a very challenging section. It really wasn’t all bad though. We had some wonderful wildlife encounters seeing 3 bears in 4 days some outstanding humming birds and at times the views looking down the Howse Floodplain we’re some of the best we’d seen.

The clear waters of the Amiskwi meeting a glacial Kicking Horse River.

We left the very homely Fireweed Hostel in Field $200 lighter and headed for the Amiskwi Valley having spent a couple of days with other GDT hikers Tim, Alice and the rocket Sean.

After a rather close encounter with an extremely docile black bear I made an astronomical, an obscenely stupid error and asked Nicola how much harder it was going to get. I even said that I was finding it pretty easy. What a ludicrous statement.

Our previous encounters with blow downs and dead fall meant that the bushes encroaching on the trail weren’t an issue. The blow downs we’re the nice bit. Hiking was replaced with wading and the trail veered off into big meadows riddled with knee high tufts of grass like castles on a hill, moats of stagnant water either side. When we weren’t pushed into the bushes or the creeks we ended up in the braided Amiskwi River looking for small islands that might speed up our progress.

Our destination for the evening in sight after some mean bush. Amiskwi Pass.

The promise of mountains kept by the Rockies.

Without the app for nav, this was the best we could find!

At camp during a monstrous thunderstorm I started a seldom visited pastime, reading. The last Englishman, a book on the Pacific Crest Trail. Nicola my girlfriend and hiking partner has hiked the length of the PCT in 2015 and assures me the trail is clear for it’s entirety. No longer had I finished reading a chapter in which Fozzie the writer had lost one of his poles to the river, I watched my bowl/cup wash away down Fire Creek as I was washing it never to be seen again. Unfortunately this meant I had to rush to finish my peanut butter to give me another eating vessel.

Items lost 1.

Even when it’s warm outside there’s very little that would get me out of my sleeping bag when I’ve settled up for the night. This night was no exception, though I went to bed needing a wee. I also woke up needing a wee. Then I dreamt of having a wee and almost did a wee in my bag. This wasn’t part of Nicola’s response to my question about the challenges ahead, weeing the tent.

Whilst on the subject of bodily waste (you can see where this is going) I am a once a day kind of dude. If there’s been an obscure dietary alteration like a trip to Zanzibar or Mazzi then there might be up to three visits to the throne…. Per hour. Never in my life however have I been two and a half days without a poo. I assumed it was because I was using everything I was eating but nope a stiff coffee restored bowl function. Camping does some weird stuff to your insides.
‎
‎The following day my phone threw in the towel so our navigational app was gone and the dense bush claimed Nicolas sunglasses. It just kept getting better. A somewhat adventurous beginning to section D. I fully expected trail like this but it still came as a surprise after the very well groomed Rockwall the week before.

Items lost 2

More bush at the start of the following day brought us to a fire road where our pace doubled. With time to think about something other than bushes we ended up having an interesting chat about mileage and how we we’re getting on. We were being highly restricted by our campsite reservations up ahead (you have to book numerous sites along the busy areas and arrive in a timely fashion) resulting in some 20km days, a distance that now, 600km in, we could knock off before midday. We were here to hike and so toyed with the idea of putting the bookings to one side and winging it. An approach somewhat frowned upon by Parks Canada I’m sure. As we hiked up the Bleaberry River I think we’d both made up our minds. Though we didn’t verbally confirm how we we’re feeling, when we reached the designated camp spot for the night we be both carried on without a mention of stopping. We’ll be making it up from here then….

Reaching the fire road we naively assumed that the bush had ended with this the Amiskwi vally in the rear view.

Beautiful road! And mountain…

These are the things that out weight the bush!

A beautiful blue river running down a huge valley of interlocking spurs. Spurs covered in trees with endless screes bridging the gap between the treeline and the rock walls that formed the mountain summits. This was the the view for 5km before the second bout with the bushes. Another 7km of bushwacking along the David Thompson Heritage Trail brought us to our camp. The worst section of trail yet. I’m sure some of my mates from Northern England are calling me a bloody southern fairy as we speak.

David Thompson Trail or River.

Lambe Creek and it’s ice cold waters we’re a good means of waking up first thing.

The lambe Creek was a little less full in the morning so we crossed using the remains of an old bridge resting in the water. What followed for that day can only be described as the worst hiking experience of my whole life. Further and further towards Howse Pass, brush became thicker and thicker. Another morning hiking through the natural car wash provided by the Canadian woodland. 5km from Howse Pass to Conway creek took us two and a half hours. As if Amiskwi wasn’t enough. The trail then buggered off and we got lost in some mad bush whackage looking for a trail we saw on the map that didn’t even exist. We retraced steps and redirected back to Conway Creek, our intention of handrailing the Creek to the Howse River, seeming far more appealing than more bush. We were advised that the Howse River Alternate was the best option but without the app, staying on a seldom traveled ‘path’ proved difficult. We got onto the floodplain and hiked the fastest we had done in 4 days unhindered by bush or trees.

The Howse Floodplain proved so very helpful and with views like these we we’re less and less inclined to return to the woods.

Eventually the Howse River itself shuffled to the Eastern side of the floodplain forcing us back into the woods and onto the river trail. It’s God awful reputation was spot on. A 1ft wide trail washed out and dug into the Forest floor big roots protruding and large bushes scraping and scratching at already sore shins. We ditched the trail after about 500m and headed back onto the enticing flood plain. This river/bush tennis carried on for around 15km until, sick to death of greenery we crossed the river entirely, a big braided river with fast flowing silty channels we committed to the Western shore. No mean feat. In the guide this daft option is only recommended on a frozen Howse, first thing in the morning or during drought. It was none of these things.
This turned out to be a shit idea. We couldn’t get back across further downstream so had to re enter the woods 10km down the flood plain on no trail whatsoever and head for the Glacier Lake trail via a “small” river crossing at the lakes out flow. The book mentioned this as a passing comment. It failed to mention however 2ft deep moss, fallen trees so old and rotten they would snap under your weight and the sharpest fucking tree spikes ever seen. Oh and bees. Lots of bees. Ooh Nicola look at the abandoned bees nest let me get a photo. Run Nic run!!! I think that’s how it went. All the while the usual mosquitoes are savaging legs and face and you’re having to remember that there are animals out there that could eat you’re tits off. It’s threatening to rain and the worst is yet to come. I apologise for the obscenities but as you can imagine my mood wasn’t brilliant at the time. Finally “you can then ford the Glacier River at the lakes out flow”. Simple as that apparently. After 2 attempts reaching just above the nuts deep (obviously not appropriate for Nicola) we returned to the bank. We repacked bags and began our crossing in earnest, full commitment. We could see the campsite and the fires of the other campers and smell the food. A nipple deep crossing of Glacier Lake full of glacier melt (get the picture, it was pretty cold) and we’re there. I’d thank God for our well being but if he was real then there would have been a nice trail from Field to the River Crossing resort. Instead.. hell on Earth. Seriously don’t go here. Like ever.

The the river also took my flip flops…

Items lost 4.

Why did I have to ask such a stupid question. Section D. That’s how it can get harder! Some bits we’re nice though…

Honestly I would say to any GDT hikers thinking about the trail, if there’s a viable alternate then take it. A few hours of road walking to access other better maintained trails would be worth it. If not then just pull your sleeves up and get stuck in. It sure will make you appreciate every bit of beautiful trail you’ll meet further North.

A welcome campsite after the hardest day yet.

Looking back. It’ll prove a good way to appreciate the mediocre trails to come.

8. Across the Divide – A Wild Skyline

Ok so maybe I was being a little bit harsh about section D. I’ve tried to write things down throughout the journey, on a daily basis, or even as I’m walking as opposed to writing it all from the comforts of a bed or a cushioned seat in a library. I think you keep hold of those feelings more effectively and you’re able to portray the rawness of the experience without loosing the detail. No one wants to read a bullet pointed itinerary of a perfectly executed trip, right? A colleague from the Lake District said to me once, “nobody wants to read a story about a climbing trip that went well from start to finish. People want to read about how you had to bail on the route, abseiling off of a microwire, spoon your best friend at 2000m for heat and eat gravel for breakfast’. And its true. It just so happened that as I was writing my thoughts and feelings down throughout that section of bush, I was really really pissed. Like, really mad! Anyway, half the shit we went through on the Howse wasn’t new. Nothing that I wouldn’t do just to retrieve my favorite fishing lure from a tree. That said, if I was to hike the trail again I would try and find an alternate. If it came to it I would hike D again for sure. We took on the GDT because we wanted an adventure and Section D like no other provided us with exactly that. The blow downs were bad and the bush was demoralising but the views were consistently outstanding, the wildlife encounters plentiful and it was wild like we hadn’t seen before. If nothing else it was a perfect test and introduction to the trials of the remaining trail. I don’t think people should be put off the Thru Hike because of this section, a section which felt bad substantially due to our own mistakes. Get on it!

Anyway…

Straight out of the river crossing was 8 km on The David Thompson Highway, the sun blazing down. We smashed this out quickly with the help of some disgusting music and began our ascent up the steep banks of Owen Creek, the longest ascent on the whole of the GDT (20kms or so), still without the app for nav. Planting poles well above our heads as the trial moved up and around blow downs and boulders often in the creek itself. For the 20km we followed small cairns hoping their builders we’re genuine.

Hikers craftsmanship guiding the way.

Surprisingly some of the better trail we had been on.

The creek, a big gorge in its lower reaches characterised by small circular blue pools carved into the limestone, soon widened and leveled off petering out into nowt but a trickle. The scene opened up at the creeks source and once again an archetypal Canadian wilderness unfolded. The usual hanging glaciers and thousand foot cliffs revealed themselves as well as a little more uphill to the pass. The baron alpine environment seemed to be home to nothing but Gophers, Marmots and stunning flowers, not to mention the usual horseflies and ‘skeets’. The pass’ wild appearance and character was soon undone somewhat by a collection of ‘helihikers’ (folk who like the mountains but cant be arsed to walk there) resident at Michelle Lakes just the other side of the pass. To be fair they had chosen a stunning spot. Blue lagoons feeding one another in the alpine before dropping into the valley to the East guarded on either side by huge cliffs to the North and South.

Released from the claustrophobic trees finally.

Looking back towards Owen Creek Ascent.

Michelle Lakes!

We climbed to the penultimate pass of the day which so happened to be the highest point on the trail, an as of yet unnamed pass at around 2600m. The view both ways something we could hardly believe. The view to the North revealed the final climb of our 30km day. I half expected that guy from Jurassic Park Dr Grant to be there telling us about how the raptors in this area were guaranteed to kill everyone who hiked that way but no Dr Grant. Just a plentiful supply of Marmots. The Snickers and the AYCE (All You Can Eat – oh that magical combination of letters) were doing well so far as we ate up the miles.

Goodview Pass would be appropriate.

These little guys were thriving up there.

If you look hard enough there’s a T-Rex at the bottom.

A little bit of route finding took us to a truly wild ascent and Pinto Pass. To this point I think this was one of my favorite parts of the trail. Though, there was no trail. Just a vast open space and a silence broken by nothing but a distant glacial waterfall cascading down the cliffs. Small shrubs, Heather and low grasses crunching beneath our feet. Cue Eddie Vedder. We had some fun with the Marmots provoking them with our whistle, inducing loud echoing screams from all around the flat pass. This finally, was exactly what we expected from the GDT.

Where the Dinosaur Roam.

Some plants n stuff.

This unnamed pass needs some recognition.

Looking toward Pinto Lakes hiding in the valley.

Though I felt pretty strong hiking the previous day, it had obviously taken its toll as I hiked like a complete retard for the following 6 hours. Rocks or roots, I tripped over them all. Poles got in the way and my backpack kept dragging me off balance. I regularly reminded myself of the Howse Section to calm myself down, but when this didn’t work a strong retaliation aimed at the offending branch or rock usually sufficed. I would actually turn around and walk back to destroy whatever it was that had slowed me down, much to Nicolas amusement I’m sure.

We left Pinto Lake our Campsite for the previous night, and made for the Gap of Rohan/Cataract Pass. Up the Cline River and past the Petroglyph Boulder we swapped the Cline for the Cataract following its meandering bed to the trail register at Cataract Pass. Winding down the screes of ever changing colors, grey, orange and white, we said a quick goodbye to the White Goat Wilderness and a hello to Jasper. We headed over the pass, a nice descent bringing us to an awesome lake for the nights camp, a place sufficiently high into the alpine so that the presence of bears was highly unlikely. Or so we thought. Its alright we said, the other GDT’ers will look after us. (Three more hikers happened to stay here too, a rarity on an 1200km trail with fewer than 30 people dotted along its length).

When we awoke the next day fishing was on the cards. We saw the NO FISHING sign just as a Bull Trout passed us giving us the middle finger.

Between 500 and 1000 years old depicting hands people and other signs.

Deep into the White Goat Wilderness.

Cataract Creek.

Rocks…..

Our home for the night. Don’t tell the wardens.

A beautiful light, with orange tint welcomed us as the sun arose the following morning, casting long shadows from the huge boulders strewn over our descent route. During the mornings ‘golden hour’ our assumption about the lack of bears was soon shattered as we strolled past the biggest print yet, an enlightening moment as our food was serving as a pillow hours prior. As soon as we hit Nigel Pass Trail Junction the path became immaculate our pace probably tripled and we saw some actual normal people. We seized the opportunity to gobble up as many miles as possible (or KMS, they don’t do miles out here) and made some good progress.

Down into the valley passing sleepy hikers still eating breakfast on the picnic benches and then up the mellow hill to the Jonas Pass, an open glacial trough with it’s usual furry residents. Sean caught up with us and joined us for a bit of lunch. Another enlightening experience as we witnessed what he called a wilderness espresso or a coffee shot. Spooning the instant coffee into his mouth and swirling it around with a gulp of water he was ready to go again, oh and a cigarette as well. Sean would rather be comfy for his 12 hours of hiking than his 10 hours of sleeping. I think he was pushing the boundaries of comfort though.

Furry Nopes Prevalent

Inviting Jonas Pass.

We popped over the Jonas shoulder narrowly missing the wavy grey lines of rain tumbling from the clouds in the neighboring valley and arrived at what was planned to be our campsite for the evening. The decision we had made back in section D to abandon our reservations and hike what we wanted to hike and camp when we were tired, suggested that we should continue for a little while longer and so we did. 36km today to Waterfalls Camp yet another ‘fully booked’ campsite that was empty bar one small tent. John and Brenda (Jaywalking and Blackberry, trail names they had acquired on the PCT) soon joined as well. The following day was of similar terrain with slightly deteriorating trail quality to Mary Schaffer where we managed to wet a line in the small creek passing camp. No fish tonight.

As we woke up excitement rose at the concept of possibly the most famous hike in the Canadian Rockies, the Skyline Trail. That said I think it was more so the idea of arriving at the lodge at the beginning of the trail selling pastries, burgers and beer. We had only learned about this a day or two ago and so we took the opportunity to double up our food portions for this day knowing full well that we could resupply for the skyline day at Maligne Lodge. This is the sort of news thru hikers live for. Double Noodles is like the Aberdeen Angus of the trail world.

The morning went quickly, anticipation of the food that awaited speeding up both time and hiking pace, culminating in a sort of hiker time machine. Hiker time machines are wonderful motivators, yet they dull the senses something terrible. A few kms out from the long awaited burgers Nicola begins to shout at me, just my name nothing else, first quietly then louder and louder each time until my attention was peeled away from the smell of beef (you couldn’t even smell it yet) and drawn to Nicola stood behind me. She simply looked over my shoulder and raised her eyebrows. With my head down on a mission to move the time machine into fifth gear I was oblivious to the sevenish foot tall Moose stood in the trail 10m ahead. It was bloody massive. A big lanky brown cow with goofy face just looking back munching of grass. I looked back at Nic in amazement silent and still. He sauntered off into the woods barely breaking the silence between the three of us. And just like that he was gone. Round the corner we saw a sign for Moose lake and a big line of lovely smelling tourists who had no idea what they had missed by a matter of minutes. I think i enjoyed this more than the bears.

The trade off for a Maligne Lunch.

Well worth it.

It’s easy to see why the Maligne Lake lodge was so busy.

That evening we set off late to arrive at one of the first campsites on the Skyline Trail. The time machine was broken. The influx of food and wine from the Maligne Lodge hours before clearly didn’t do much for our hiking speed. Nevertheless we mushed on and camped in one of multiple spaces at the campsite which 5 months ago when we tried to book was again full.

And so onto the Skyline. There’s not much to Skyline in all honesty. Not that which cant be summarised with some outstanding photos. The trail was faultless all the way from start to finish and the views, despite the haze, were breathtaking. Taking into consideration the “full campsites”, we were surprised to see so few people along the 38kms of that day. We treated ourselves to a swim and more urgently a wash.

Drastic change from the Howse.

Tame as owt he was.

56km hiker highway. Perfect.

Couldn’t resist at least one!

Summiteer. Windy ridge.

The impressive Watchtower from Windy Ridge.

Post swim.

Section E came to a close with some excitement. We camped at the trail head along with the PCT duo (a bit naughty I know but we couldn’t manage the next 11 kms to Jasper) and were woken by a shouting Jaywalker (John). A pair of black bear cubs sticking their nose into the vestibule of their Tent was some cause for concern. The mum sent them up into the tree above John and Brendas tent before they scurried down upon feeling safer, and headed into the bushes. Town bears are ballsy!

A plethora of restaurants awaited us in Jasper. We couldn’t bare to walk past the first one without a queue. Definitely because we didn’t want to wait for food but also because we didn’t like the idea of exposing a busy restaurant and the people of Jasper to a week without a shower armpits and and the worst smelling shorts for miles. If anyone would like recommendations of places to eat in any town in the Canadian Rockies, ask a thru hiker, they’ll have sampled them all. And so we did.

Edith Lake some Autumnal colours. Or is it Fall?

A still reminder of the imminent civilisation.

5 sections down 2 to go. It’s going well.

9. Across the Divide – Nobody Told Me I’d Need A Boat!

Hitching from Jasper to the trail head proved tough. It probably had something to do with the fact that our planned early start turned into a 4 hour eatathon, waffles and pancakes at Smitty’s. I assume the locals had finished their morning run to work and the late rising tourists didn’t fancy traveling with some homeless albeit reasonably fresh smelling hikers for an unknown amount of time. As we waited a camper passed us. On the side it read. “I don’t hate people, I just prefer it when they’re not around” safe to say we began hiking.

Before too long a kind lady called Natalie from New Brunswick and her overly defensive Miniature Schnauzer, Captain Benny picked us up and got us to the trail head. 35 degrees and a bag full of treats, I was looking forward to getting back on trail. To our surprise the rumors about recent trail maintenance in these parts were genuine and despite the fast growing bushes, we seldom encountered dead fall or blow downs. Soon after entering the woodland the temperature dropped a few degrees seemingly in a minute or two. A slight breeze picked up gusting somewhat in the canopy and the tall slender trees began swaying, branches battling with each other for room above. The darkish clouds that had been following us for the early afternoon swiftly caught up and began to grumble as the light faded bringing an ominous feel to the forest. The winds strengthened further and large branches started to fall from the trees. Needles and leaves from past autumns were made airborne with the sound of the thunder now overhead. It was genuinely unsettling. Apocalypse imminent. The flash came and the storm began. Driving rain and strong winds made for a rotten beginning to this section. Oh and the Dementors showed up too… Quite a contrast to the mornings weather. The unpredictable weather continued into the following day thankfully with fewer thunderstorms and marginally less rain.

One of many Mountain passes during one of few breaks in the rain.

Thankfully the trail was marginally clearer. This scene however wasn’t uncommon.

I wasn’t sure we were ever going to emerge from the forest that next day or the next day so you can imagine my delight when woodland turned into meadows and short sharp climbs took us to huge expansive passes. The likes of Centre Pass, Miette Pass, Grant Pass and finally Colonel Pass offered fine views of the surrounding peaks along with some stunning wildflowers and the bearyist places ever! Later on we would learn that John and Brenda had encountered the largest Grizzly they had ever seen on Centre pass, and he slipped past us unnoticed. An estimated 33km day turned into more like 36 because of a wrong turn. We both wished the wrong turn had happened at the start of the day but no, 32km down, tired, hungry and wet, we missed the junction. Tensions were a little high for the remaining few kilometers but our slightly hilly camp next to the Moose River was lovely, if not slightly wrong. Wet socks full of God awful smell were hung up in the tent to dry, rain gear stuffed wet into a dry bag for a pillow and the semi damp sleeping bag was put to use. After spending the evening trying to keep myself at the top end of the tent, we left our very sloped camping spot and set off. 3 minutes into the hiking and voila a beautiful campsite, fire wood, a toilet and everything you could need. Lesson learned. And I say toilet… a collection of trees usually arranged in a semi circle. A large hole in the middle and a tree trunk nailed between two of the trees forming a leaning platform for you pooping needs. Beautiful.

‘Ford the Moose River’ a phrase we became all to familiar with and now joke about.

Despite the rain the views from within the river were pretty epic.

Today we spent most of the day in the Moose River. In fact we forded a river, the Moose, Steppe or Upright Creeks, 11 times. I need not explain how cold glacier melt water is. We should have brought a boat. The views in the valley we’re outstanding with moody clouds threatening rain and creating some atmospheric scenes. With the catalogue of river Ford’s behind us we headed for Moose Pass. And what an amazing placed that is!. An outstanding reward bringing joy to the both of us. The hike to the pass was boggy and wet though. Larger plants seemed to relish the opportunity to grow in conditions that I assume are wet all year round. Bear prints, Wolf prints and all manner of Deer prints littered the trail raising hopes of an encounter with something big and fury. Ascending into the alpine at Moose Pass we left the claustrophobic feeling of the forest behind. Alpine meadows once again forming a picture perfect scene with the cloudy skies, jagged mountains and hanging glaciers acting as the frame.

The magnificent Moose Pass. Sans Moose.

The North

Flowers are unable to relax and enjoy life..

I’d have liked to have spent some time here but the pass seemed to be funneling the wind, so, cold and wet we were eager to get to camp. After a brisk descent we arrived at a wonderful horse camp on the Calumet River. The towering Mt Robson in the background was acting as the largest cairn in the Rockies guiding us to our resupply package a the visitors centre. We even bumped into some other folk. A campfire got to work drying out out wet clothes as we tucked into our noodles and trail mix. Just what we needed before settling down for the night.

Right now as this is getting written I’m reading a book called ‘Deep Survival’ an inspiring read. Laurence Gonzalez writes about a sailor, Steve Callaghan who attempted to sail the Atlantic before his boat sank and he was stranded aboard his life raft for 76 days. Although the trials that Callaghan went through we’re infinitely worse than those you’d experience on a thru hike they’re very relatable and go a long way to explaining why people choose to hike for months at a time, big wall climb for days or sail across the Atlantic solo as Callaghan did.

He writes

‘that to lose everything at the edge of such a glorious eternity is far sweeter than to win by plodding through a cautious, painless and featureless life. … And it makes what he has that much richer.’

Now I know we we’re never running the risk of losing everything but having so little, your life in your backpack, is why noodles become such a treat, a fire is so wonderful a reward and dry shoes in the mornings are so sought-after. It’s such a feeling that will undoubtedly get me back on another thru hike.

Rumour had it, the Berg Lake Trail that awaited us the following day was 9ft wide, meticulously well maintained and littered with kind Canadian people who were always willing to surrender their nicest food supplies without question or hesitation. Especially to GDT hikers. Maybe not entirely truthful but where the trail lacked its human food banks it more than made up for with its scenery. Its a good job we enjoyed it the first time as we would hike this 27km trail twice in two days. Once to get our food package and then again back to the trail. Yep, we chose to add another 54km to the 1100km total. It was completely worth it, not only for the views but the Cafe at the bottom…. hikers dream.

Much the same as the Skyline Trail, there really aren’t words enough to do the Berg Lake Trail justice. So because of this and because I’m lazy here’s a bunch of photos.

Much the same as the thunderstorms of late, the glaciers pouring down from Mt Robson never ceased to crack and creak as we passed them. Quite how they manage to make so much noise and not release huge chunks of ice into the lake is beyond belief. We soon learned however that they did crumble and fall. Not because we saw it happen but because we met a man who described a glacier of far superior size present only 50 years prior. This interesting lecture went on for sometime.

Outstanding Mt Robson @ 3954m.

Berg Glacier on the left Mist Glacier on the right.

As hard as it was to take our minds off of Mt Robson and what was a legitimate terminus for the GDT, we left civilisation once again and ventured into the wild one last time.

We had no idea how hard the final section was going to be and hell we weren’t prepared. 147km from us to Kakwa Lake. Those two words had been the buzz word, the motivation in times of difficulty and source of so much excitement over the last 40 days and here we we’re a mere 7 days away. I make it sound like we we’re excited to finish and at the time we probably were a little. How things change.