Kindness and Support : Quaite Valley to Canmore

The wind that sprung up as the sun was setting yesterday evening continued through the night, making us feel very cozy and protected in the shelter of our tent and treed campsite.  We could still hear it blowing down the valley as we packed up on what turned out to be another bright, clear, warm, dry, sunny morning.

As we enjoyed our oatmeal and coffee we watched the golden light of the sun move down the mountains opposite us.  When it got to a certain point, the peaks behind us began casting interestingly shaped shadows which began moving upwards on the steep forested slopes.  We felt like we could have sat there and enjoyed the majesty of the region all morning.

Eventually we packed everything up and set off, heading downhill on the Jewell Pass towards Highway 1 on a wide, level gravel path.  We dipped into the forested valley, surrounded by steep treed slopes on all sides.  Although we could hear the busy road ahead, our surroundings looked wild and remote.  To the north towered Biffy Peak, and to the south rose Grant MacEwan Peak and Heart Mountain. 

When we arrived near the highway we crossed a hydro corridor, and stopped to watch a huge Common Raven perched on a utility pole.  From there the trail became a narrow, dirt footpath that wound through lush deciduous forest running parallel to the highway.

We crossed several tiny ponds and interesting marshy areas on small wooden footbridges, stopping to admire the spectacular mountain views across the Bow River Valley, and the reflections of the sunlit peaks in the still water. 

One of the amazing things about today was the stunning beauty that existed at both vast and very intimate scales.  Looking up, we were surrounded by towering sunlit peaks.  At the same time, the path we were walking was bordered by colourful fall wildflowers and bright red berries.

We were making our way along the base of the rocky and forested slopes of Heart Mountain.  In places we crossed exposed rocky areas that looked like dry riverbeds or rock slides, or both.  Although the lack of streams made for easier crossings, we began to worry about the availability of water as we head up into the Rocky Mountains, and to once again think about the consequences of climate change.

As we neared the Heart Creek Trailhead we began to see other hikers, and more trail signage.  One warning indicated there was a bear in the area.  Another sign marked a side trail and indicated that beyond that point the trail became a Scrambler's Route.  Not too far beyond this point we passed a large group of people kitted out in climbing gear, heading for the rocky, slippery slopes high above us.

When we reached the Heart Creek Trailhead, which had a parking lot, washrooms, picnic tables, trail maps, and garbage cans it was full of people. We took a welcome break at a picnic table in the shade before continuing on.  As we sat there, more cars and RVs were pouring into the parking lot by the minute.  It was wonderful to see so many people out enjoying nature on such a lovely morning, but also a little overwhelming.

Many of the people arriving at the trail head had headed off in the same direction we were going.  Apparently there is a scenic cave just off the trail, which is likely the destination for most day trekkers on this route.  Somewhat to our relief, after we passed this point traffic on the trail became more manageable. 

Around this point we also passed the town of Exshaw, where we had been thinking of camping last night at the Lac des Arcs.  The campground was located right beside the highway, wedged between the busy road and the Lafarge Exshaw Cement Plant.  It was situated on a beautiful lake, which apparently offers great bird watching possibilities in spring and fall.  While this may have been a missed opportunity, I was happy with our decision to stay in the backcountry, which was much quieter, and felt much more remote and peaceful.

As we passed Exshaw, we got our first glimpse of the Three Sisters Mountains, although from that perspective they looked more like 3.5 or 4 sisters.  

These three iconic mountain peaks were originally named the 'Three Nuns' by Albert Rogers in 1883.  Apparently the snow caps on the peaks reminded him of the white habits worn by nuns.  They were renamed the 'Three Sisters' in 1886 by Canadian geologist George Dawson. Predictably, they became known individually as Big Sister, Middle Sister, and Little Sister, or Faith, Hope, and Charity.  In the language of the First Nations Stoney Nakoda the peaks are also referred as the 'Three Sisters.'  The legend that accompanies the names refers to an old man who repeatedly gets himself into trouble and offers a choice of three sisters in marriage to get himself out of it.

About 2 km after the Heart Creek Trailhead we came to a sign warning that the next 2.5 km of path featured uneven sections of loose rock, uneven tread adjacent to steep drops, and both man-made and natural technical features.  Although the sign was intended for cyclists, the warning turned out to be apt, and the next section of trail took us over an hour to complete.

Although it was a bit challenging to walk while carrying heavy packs, it was nonetheless beautiful.  The narrow trail undulated up and down along the mossy green toes of the mountains beside us.  At the higher points we were walking over dry, crunchy, lichen covered expanses of exposed rock.  Overhead were stands of tangy smelling pine and fir, and a carpet of spiky ground  juniper and other tough, leathery plants and dry grasses grew below. It felt a lot like walking on the Canadian Shield around the Great Lakes.

At the lower points we found ourselves walking through stands of very tall spruce, surrounded by lush, deep, moss. A dense understory of emerald green shrubs and bushes was accented by colourful wildflowers, and we crossed many small streams and wet areas. It almost felt like walking through a coastal rainforest, and it was obvious that the scale of the landscape, and the size of the vegetation was increasing as we left the prairies and foothills behind. 

Although we were constantly climbing and descending, overall we were gaining elevation, along with the highway beside us.  We wound our way along the edge of very steep slopes, climbing several sets of half-log staircases up the steepest sections, and inching our way around rocky outcroppings with only slender log railings between us and large drops.  In other places we walked up narrow log bridges spanning deep crevices in the rock.

Although much of the trail felt precarious with our gear on our backs, it was clear a lot of work had been done to create and maintain it.  The most difficult crossing was over a small stream where a large tree had very recently fallen, breaking the bridge in the middle.  We scrambled through the branches and spiky foliage and made it safely across without even getting wet. 

Eventually our treed footpath brought us out to a hydro corridor.  We followed a dirt track along the open grassy strip, seeing signs for a shooting range on one side.  Just before we came to Dead Man's Flats we saw evidence of a forest fire, both above us on the mountainous slope, and in the strip of alders and aspens between us and the highway.  As we head towards over 100 fires that are still burning, it was a little unnerving to see the destruction they leave in their wake.

The unusually named hamlet of Dead Man's Flats was apparently called Pigeon Mountain Service Centre until 1985.  The name was changed to encourage tourism, and there are a number of explanations as how it originated.  The most widely accepted explanation associates the name with a murder that took place in 1904 at a dairy farm situated on the Flats of the Bow River.  Francois Marret killed his brother John with an axe, and subsequently dumped the body on the flats beside the river.  He later stood trial in Calgary, but was acquitted on the grounds of insanity.  As to why a name change to this region would inspire tourism I could find no answer. 

In Dead Man's Flats the Trans Canada Trail becomes a water route.  We had looked at satellite images of the area and seen a track continuing along the hydro corridor, but there seemed to be a gap between where our trail ended and the next track began. 

We crossed the road and were just wondering where to go (nervous that we would have to trek the busy highway) when a man pulled up in a car and pointed to a small piece of plywood spanning the clear mountain stream in front of us.  He said if we crossed over it we would be able to pick up the trail again.  We thanked him for the much appreciated help, and followed his advice.

By this point in the afternoon it was getting pretty hot, so we decided to stop for a break. While we were sitting on a large log in a small bit of shade beside the fast flowing mountain stream, we spotted a small flock of Pine Siskins foraging in the top of a huge spruce tree.  We also heard the chatter of an excited group of Mountain Chickadees, which sounded sort of like the more familiar (to us) Black-capped Chickadees, but slightly more hoarse.  They were joined by a group of Yellow-rumped Warblers and several Chipping Sparrows, adding to the bird activity in the small stand of trees beside the open, rocky floodway beside the water.

After our short break we continued on, soon emerging into a parking lot full of construction vehicles.  There were several crew members out in the yard.  Luckily for us, they greeted us with a cheerful hello, rather than questioning what we were doing possibly trespassing in their yard.  They asked where we were headed, and when we shared our story, without hesitation they quickly offered us cold water to refill our bottles, volunteering to keep and recycle the empties for us.  We could immediately tell these were people who were used to working outside in the heat all day themselves.  This was another piece of trail magic we very much appreciated!

We continued down the hydro corridor for another few kilometres, now walking on a wide, gravel access road.  Eventually this path turned into a crushed stone dust trail, and we began to see a lot of a bicycle tracks and footprints.  To one side a forested slope rose up, apparently leading to a golf course, and on the other side we had fantastic views of the mountains.

Soon after our route became a paved cycling trail, and we found ourselves entering the outskirts of southern Canmore.  Large and modern homes and condos nestled at the foot of stunning mountains, as we followed the trail out into an open grassy flood plain beside the improbably turquoise waters of the Bow River.

The scale, magnitude, and awesome beauty of the landscape as we followed the meandering ribbon of the cycling trail defied description.  We shared the trail with a steady stream of cyclists, all of whom we noticed were carrying bear spray. 

The path took us though a small forested section, where a  gated community of very upscale and exclusive homes bordered the Bow River.  In the section the pathway was lined with a fence of thick wooden beams supported by stone posts, discrete street lamps periodically stood ready to illuminate dark curves, and benches were scattered along it. Clearly, we were entering a very affluent area.

As the path came back to the Bow River several cyclists warned us that they had seen a mother black bear and two cubs beside the trail ahead, hiding on a small bluff between a row of houses and the water.  This warning was repeated by multiple joggers, walkers, and cyclists as we progressed. 

We kept a sharp lookout for the poor bear family, but never spotted them.  It was kind of unnerving to think that we could walk within a few feet of three bears and not see them, even when we knew they were there!

The cycling trail continued through a treed corridor along the river, winding between subdivisions, modern condo complexes, and what looked like ski chalets and resort villas.  River crossings were on fancy wooden footbridges with carved metal railings.  Trail signage was abundant, and we began to see tourists on rented bikes, and out walking in new, bright, spotlessly clean, trendy, brand named outdoor clothing.

As we approached the downtown, an older gentleman on an electric scooter stopped and asked with a British accent where we were hiking from.  He wanted to know our route through the mountains, naming several places we have yet to travel.  Undeterred, he scooted off with cheery 'Thanks! You've really made my day! Enjoy your travels and hold tight to the memories you’ll make!' 

Not too long after this we left the trail, and began a rather long walk across the townsite to our hotel.  Accommodations in Canmore are expensive, only slightly less so than in Banff, with even the hostels charging over $100 per bunk.  However, after four days of using the single battery pack we are carrying, we needed to recharge it and get caught up on the photo editing and blog, which we haven't been able to do on our limited battery power.  We were also very much looking forward to a much needed shower! As such Canmore is one of the few places on the TCT that we have had to accept the exorbitant costs for accommodations and get on with things. 

Today Canmore has a population of around 16,000 people.  It is located on the Bow River, in the Rocky Mountains, relatively close to both Calgary and Banff National Park, and it borders on Kananaskis Country.  This makes it a very popular tourist destination for outdoor recreationists interested in hiking, biking, mountain climbing, rafting, skiing, and much more. 

Historically however Canmore is located in the Treaty 7 Territory region of Southern Alberta.  Treaty 7 encompasses the traditional lands of the Îyârhe Nakoda Nations of Chiniki, Wesley, and Bearspaw, the Tsuut'ina First Nation, the Kaini, Siksika, and Piikani Nations of the Niitsitapi (Blackfoot) Confederacy, and the Métis Nation of Alberta, Region III.

Canmore was officially named in 1884 by Donald A. Smith, who was director of the Canadian Pacific Railway.  He named it Canmore after Malcolm III of Scotland, who went by that nickname, which means 'Big Chief' in Gaelic. 

In 1886 Queen Victoria granted a coal mining charter to the town, and the No. 1 mine was opened in 1887.  The coal mining industry in Canmore boomed well into the 20th century, but by the 1970's the market for coal had dwindled, and in 1979 Canmore Mines Ltd. ceased operations. Most of the mining structures in the area were demolished the following year, with only the lamp house and few mine entrances remaining today.

With the closing of the mine Canmore's future looked bleak, but the town began to revive in the 1980's when Calgary was chosen to host the 1988 Winter Olympics.   The Nordic events were held in Canmore, which helped to put it on the map and make it the booming tourist destination it has become today.

As we made our way through town enjoying the sights we noticed a large population of extremely cute domestic rabbits.  They seemed to scurry out from under every bush and shed, and they could be seen 'mowing' the lawns of many homes and hotels.

According to estimates by the Town of Canmore, there were around 2000 domestic bunnies roaming the town in 2018. The source of the rabbits is a bit of a mystery, but according to Jesse James, sometime in the 1980s a resident of the northeast neighbourhood of Silvertip was reprimanded by the town council for having 12 rabbits that were unregistered pets.  For unknown reasons he subsequently released them, and rabbits being how they are, the population quickly grew into what it is today.  Apparently, these cute, furry critters are a much loved part of local culture. 

In addition to cleaning up and recharging, while in town we also took the opportunity to resupply.  We are heading to Banff next, but it does not have a Canadian Tire, and we aren't sure if there will be a good grocery store in walking distance of the campground there.  We stocked up on camp fuel, camp soap, and a few freeze dried meals at Canadian Tire, as well as a few granola bars at the Safeway next door.

On the way back from the re-supply we stopped at the Rocky Mountain Bagel Company for two delicious mint lemonades, and because they were about to the close for the day, they offered all the customers bags of free bagels.  What a lovely surprise, although finding space in our packs to carry so many bagels will definitely be a challenge.

After a few lovely days in the wilderness, being back in a town feels a little overwhelming.  However, Canmore has a nice vibe, combining artsy, outdoorsy, and touristy, all with a backdrop of stunning mountains scenery.  It is definitely one of those days when being out on the trail feels like a real privilege.

See you on the trail!

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