It’s been a long time since I’ve posted any updates, but I have a big backlog of photos to work my way through and website updates in the works. I’ve been guiding hikes and canoe trips for many months and haven’t had any time to focus on the delivery side of my photography. That is now changing (for the next bit anyway – there’s a good chance I’ll go missing from here again, but rest assured that I’ll always be in action). I’ll just post the one photo today, but I’m working on updating the store and galleries in the next bit.
Category: Mountain
Bad Weather, Good Light
Caribou in Jasper
The Maligne Herd of caribou in Jasper is gone, and the rest of the caribou in the park are unlikely to be able to survive long-term. The Tonquin Valley herd still has around 45 individuals. I was lucky enough to be able to spend some in Tonquin Valley with some of the caribou. They are beautiful and curious creatures. The first time I saw them they got up and walked toward me to investigate. I sat down and watched them grazing and relaxing in the mountain meadow. Eventually other hikers came along the trail making a lot of noise. The caribou heard them from almost a kilometer away, got up and started to move away. The hikers were of course excited to see the caribou, and while loudly talking and rummaging through their gear to get out their camera equipment, they slowly chased the caribou across the valley until both the hikers and caribou disappeared over the horizon. I understand the excitement, but the lack of respect is frustrating. If an animal is moving away from you, please don’t follow it.
Tombstone Territorial Park
We have so many incredible places in Canada that it feels wrong to highlight a particular one – one that I don’t even know that well. It feels like giving the standard advice, when tourists are deciding where to go, of driving through Banff. There’s no denying it’s spectacular, but there’s an intimacy with the land that seems somehow less accessible in these in-your-face spectacular areas. It’s not the real Canada, it’s the instagram influencer of Canada. It’s hard to sell the smaller, flatter, swampy natural areas surrounded by agricultural land that dot the Alberta landscape. And maybe that’s for the best – if they got as much traffic as Banff, they would change significantly.
But the spectacular has the same appeal for me as it does for most people. I’ve wanted to visit Tombstone Territorial Park for years. It has all the in-your-face, mountainous beauty of Banff, plus the northern appeal of the tundra and a relatively low visitor count.
But it is quite the drive to get there. From the “gateway to the north” in Edmonton, you still have to drive 29 hours north. That sounds long, and it feels even longer. And the trouble with this drive is that there are hundreds of tempting spots to get sidetracked. There are mountains, waterfalls, parks, coffeeshops, rockhunting spots, vistas, wildlife, hotsprings, and more, all calling you to check them out, spend just a bit of time, do just one little hike. But no, you have to keep driving. And driving. And driving. And once you’ve spent the 3 or 4 long days driving you’re finally there. And it is spectacular.
My only advice, if you do have the time to get all the way up here and back, is to make sure you have time to spend in the backcountry. Plan to hike for a few days at least. I got to spend 3 days here, and it was not enough. If you’re staying on the highway it is not a big park – you’re through in an hour. But the land is massive, and deserves to be explored on foot.
If you are planning to travel here and you want any specific advice, feel free to comment or email me. I enjoy talking about trips and places, although I’m often away and I might be slow to respond. The Dempster “Highway” is a rough gravel road that has been known to cause flats (we survived with no casualties – until later in our trip). The gas stations are few and far between. There is no cell access anywhere. You can not get extra supplies if you forget them. You should be prepared for any emergencies. Now that all those warnings are out of the way, it’s not that bad. Don’t be scared to do it. There are usually other travelers around, and most are friendly and helpful should you need it.
The Best is the Enemy of the Good
Backpacking
An eight day backpacking trip concluded our epic August adventure. After learning to do a bit of map and compass work, we set off all together on a sunny hike up to Allstones Lake. Our packs were heavy with food for our 8 day trip. The first part of the hike is well known and the trail well-travelled, so while we could learn how to navigate with map and compass, we didn’t need to. We got to Allstones with time to set up our tarps, filter some water, and make some supper before dark. Our bearhangs (rope systems to hang all our food between trees so bears can’t get at them) took a little longer and we finished them off in the dark with headlamps.
Then we all crawled into our sleeping bags under our tarps for what would turn out to be a miserable night. It was clear when we went to sleep, but a storm rolled in overnight and it started raining and blowing really hard. Our tarp was open at both ends and I was sleeping on the outside. My sleeping bag got pretty wet and I got pretty cold. This set the tone for the rest of the trip. The morning dawned, cold, dark, and rainy. We made breakfast, ate, and packed up as quickly as we could.
This was the first day our small group was alone. We were meeting up with everyone else at a pre-determined location on the map. There were no more trails and the trees were thick, making landmarking difficult. To add to this, the clouds were low, and often we couldn’t see any mountains, even when the trees thinned out. The rain was cold and constant, finding a way through all our waterproof layers. We quickly switched from navigating by landmarks to dead reckoning (going a specific compass direction). We tried to gauge our distance by the number of drainages we passed through, but we didn’t know our exact elevation and the number of drainages on the map varied depending on the elevation.
We debated where we were quite a bit, pointing out hills in the distance, and the direction of creeks we crossed. Eventually we got to an open mountainside where we could see more than one landmark at once. We debated, ended up with two possibilities of where we could be, with most of us being pretty sure of one. But on a day when we were all cold, wet, and miserable, with darkness starting to loom, we thought we better be sure. We took out the GPS and confirmed our guess. We were where we thought we were, but we still had a ways to go. We eventually found the right drainage to walk down, followed the swampy, willowy valley, and ended up close to our campsite. We were all soaked, although hiking had kept us warm up to this point.
As we got into camp though, the cold started creeping in and we started slowing down. As we tried to set up the tarp with shaking, numb fingers, others in our group searched for less-damp wood with which to start a fire. Nothing was dry. Through chattering teeth, we made sure everyone had their tasks, and we set about doing the chores of the evening. Somehow we managed to get the tarp set up, a fire made, and supper cooked. We changed into drier clothes and tried to warm up.
By then it was dark, and we needed sleep. We crawled into our sleeping bags and slept extra close that night. Morning came. It was still drizzling, on and off. Most of our gear was wet, but there was nothing to be done about it, so we packed up and headed out. Our route for the day was pretty clear – we would follow a valley through a low pass, and then once the ground leveled out we would head straight north. The day was a little less wet than the day before, our route a little clearer, and our group’s spirits were high. We even saw blue sky for a few minutes before it clouded over again.
This time we were one of the first groups to camp, and we had a little bit of time to relax in addition to all the evening chores. We got our tarp set up early with drying lines underneath. There was a good gravel bar for a kitchen beside the Bighorn River. The sun came out a bit that evening, and we found out we would have a layover day to dry out our gear. We went to bed happy, if not especially warm.
The next day was full of drying gear, learning to identify plants, journaling, and talking with other groups we had barely seen in a few days.
Then it was time for our small group to head off on our own for a couple days. We picked our route and our campsite for the next night, said goodbye to our home for the last day and a half, and headed out.
Despite regular intervals of rain, the fact that there was any sun at all made us pretty happy and the day started out great! We had a long hike ahead of us, but there was a lake at the end of it, and hiking together as a group was a silly and fun affair. At lunch we took off our boots, dried out our feet, and basked in a half hour of sun. It was glorious. After lunch we skipped through meadows, making up songs accompanied by harmonica.
However, the meadows turned into swamp. The songs turned to blues. The skipping turned to slogging. The rest of the day was pushing through mossy swamps up to our knees, briefly climbing steep hills only to find we had to go back down into the swamp. We were soooo happy to finally see the lake.
We had a relaxing evening at the lake and slept in the next morning. We woke up to sun for the first time (actually the only time) that trip and water quietly lapping at the shore. We had a leisurely breakfast, packed up, and headed out, changing our route slightly to not lose as much elevation. Crossing the valley above the lake was less swampy than we were worried about. We headed up a south-facing slope of thin pines to gain the ridge and head to our next camp to see everyone again. The hiking was quick and fun, but fallen trees soon slowed us down. It took us longer than expected to get to the next camp, with a steep, mossy decent on the north side of the ridge. After a steeper-than-hoped-for slide down to the river, we crossed and found camp.
It was really good to see the group again. There were hugs, high fives, and stories all around. For the rest of the trip, we would all hike together. We had a good supper with burnt pudding for desert, which kind of tasted horrible but because it was chocolate and we were camping, it was good.
The next morning we all packed up as a large group and started climbing.
We quickly gained the ridge and had great views. We even got a spot of sun during lunch. But lunch got cut short as clouds started rolling in.
We hiked to another small peak in the rain and fog, and then sat down for an appropriately cold reflection on our trip.
After climbing down in a cold, cutting rain, we found another soggy campsite and had a great evening with the group. We had a potluck and skits or songs from each group, and then climbed under our tarps for the last time. The next morning we packed up and bushwhacked out the last few kilometers to the road where a few people hitchhiked back to get a vehicle.
And that’s how it ended, as all trips do, with a “Oh, I guess it’s done. What now?”
Cataract Pass
Solo Backpacking
Before I jump off into my next adventure, I wanted to share at least one glimpse of my last one. I went through three mountain passes in two national parks, camping in a wilderness area in between. It was absolutely beautiful and very quiet besides the soft clucking of a white tailed ptarmigan near my campsite.
For anyone trying to reach me in the next month, I will be out of cell range for the entire month so my next chance to get back to you will be in September.
Taken in the White Goat Wilderness Area.
24mm, f11, 5 seconds
Early Mornings
A Month of Camping
This last month has been full of trips for me – a couple weeks of backpacking near Abraham Lake and a canoe trip down the North Saskatchewan. They’ve been unusual trips for me though. Instead of the normal peaceful quiet of nature I was in the middle of roaring stoves, surrounded by laughing, yelling, talking, and singing students.
Despite the dramatic departure from my usual outdoor experiences, I really enjoyed these trips and the people who made them what they were. The few nights where I had the energy left to stay up into the night were my little oasis of quiet in these busy and fun-filled trips. Thanks to all my fellow leaders and travelers who made these trips memorable!