TCT Day 500 : Elk Pass into British Columbia

“They say home is where the heart is

But my heart is wild and free.

So am I homeless or just heartless

Did I start this or did it start me?

 

They say fear, is for the brave

For cowards never stare it in the eye.

So am I fearless to be fearful?

Does it take courage to learn how to cry?

 

So many winding roads, so many miles to go….”

 

                                                                        Passenger - Home

 
Our last morning in Alberta on the Trans Canada Trail dawned cool (5 °C) and partially overcast.  As we made breakfast at the picnic table in our treed campsite, we couldn't help but feel that some days are about the numbers.  Today is our 500th day on the Trans Canada Trail.  Today we will cross into British Columbia, the 10th province on our #Hike4Birds.  In doing so, we will have walked 12,000 km.  

 

Last but by no means least, today is my father's 80th birthday.  Happy Birthday Dad!

As we finished packing up our gear we watched in fascination as a large, dark grey bank of clouds crested one of the mountains surrounding the campground and began pouring over the top and down the steep side.  It crept down towards the tree line, looking like mist from dry ice.

Caught up in thoughts of our own adventure, we stopped by the showers to fill our water bottles from the tap outside.  A man pulled up in a pickup truck, asking where we were walking.  When we explained, he laughed and said he was heading to Vancouver too, and that he would be there by dinner time.  A group of French cyclists that we spoke with yesterday estimate they will be there in five to seven days.  It gave us a renewed perspective on our own journey, our decision to slow way down, and the different kind of adventure it has given us, both for better and worse.

On our way out of the campground we passed a small wooden cabin, which looked like it could use some TLC.  We wondered if this was the original Boulton Creek Trading Post, but could find no historical evidence to support this theory.

We climbed out of the campground on a wide, relatively level, earth path that wound up through pine forest.  The sun was making a valiant effort to break through and dispel the clouds, so the forest floor was dappled with sunlight, and we grew quite warm as we walked.

The path through Peter Lougheed Provincial Park offered frequent mountain views as we made our way upwards.  At one of these lookouts we stopped to admire the sunny slopes of the mountains whose tops were shrouded in misty grey clouds.  To our surprise, a red squirrel began pelting us with pinecones from the top of a nearby tree.  It had pretty good aim too!  Even after taking a few steps sideways, it still managed to score a direct hit!

Signage on the well marked trail suggested it was 5.6 km to the Elk Pass.  According to our GPS it turned out to be nearly 3 km more than that to this important milestone.  The Elk Pass not only marks the border between Alberta and British Columbia, but it also sits on the Continental Divide.

 

The Continental Divide (aka the Great Divide or the Western Divide) is the principle hydrological divide of the Americas.  It extends from the Bering Strait off the coast of Alaska to the Strait of Magellan at the southern tip of South America.  It separates the watersheds that drain into the Pacific Ocean from those that drain into the Arctic and Atlantic Oceans.  There are many other hydrological divides in the Americas, but this is by far the most prominent, because it follows a line of high peaks in the Rocky Mountains and the Andes which are at a much higher elevation than other divides.

 

Our path crisscrossed Boulton Creek about four times on wooden footbridges, some of which were very wide and flat.  Its crystal clear, shallow, fast flowing waters seemed to sing as they danced and flowed down the valley walls.

 

As we came to the junction with the Elk Pass Trail we found a directional sign on the path. Someone had created an arrow from sticks and formed a P (for Pass) from stones.  This type of hiker messenger is common on the Caminos, especially the Camino Frances, where pilgrims create arrows or hearts from stones, or spell out 'Buen Camino' on the pathway.  It made us smile, and seemed like a good omen.

 

 

Eventually the wide earth path joined with an old abandoned road, and we continued climbing on the grassy track.  For a short while we walked beside a spruce bog.  Plants we recognized from the wet Boreal areas in Newfoundland were beginning to turn red and yellow, and the same slightly sour smell we remembered filled the air. 

As we stood between the steep forested slopes at the side of the bog we experienced a few moments of absolute silence.  The air was still, and there were no human sounds at all.  It was absolute bliss.  Finally, it was broken by the complaints of an American Robin.

 

Past the bog we came to another lookout point where we noticed that the shape of the mountains had changed once again. One peak in particular looked like a structure built by humans.   At first I thought it resembled a pyramid, and then I thought of a Buddhist Monastery, approached by way of a winding spiral road.  Either way, it is easy to see why ancient civilizations believed that their Gods lived up on mountaintops.

 

As we approached the summit the climb became extra steep.  We stopped for a break at a well-placed picnic table, just as three cyclists came peddling furiously up the trail behind us.  As we surveyed the lush green meadow and trees beyond we were suddenly engulfed in bird activity.  A mixed flock of songbirds, which included Yellow-rumped Warblers, Wilson's Warblers, Dark-eyed Juncos, and White-crowned Sparrows was furiously hoping through the shrubs, diving and jumping to catch insects. In the trees beyond a Broad-winged Hawk landed and majestically surveyed the scene before it.

 

As we climbed towards Elk Pass the temperature dropped considerably. At 11 am, even though the sun was out, the bees were still too cold to move.  Almost every purple aster on the trail side had one or more bees, flies, or other insects sitting still on the flowers waiting for the sun to emerge.

 

Finally we crested the hill and came out onto an open hydro corridor. A metal picnic table sat at the pass, and just around the corner was a beautifully carved wooden arch, marking the border between Alberta and British Columbia.  The Great Trail had even put up a 'Welcome to British Columbia' sign! 
We were standing on the line that topographically separates the west from the east!  At 1,960 m elevation we were also standing on the second highest point on the Trans Canada Trail in BC, right after the Gray Creek Pass in the Purcells.  It is the birthplace of rivers that flow out to all three of Canada's Oceans.  What an amazing feeling!

 

The archway at Elk Pass had many things carved into it, including a Bald Eagle, a row of owls, a cyclist, a hiker, a fly fisherman, a train, and much more.  It also had the words 'The Beginning of the Road' carved into the top.  Although we only have about 60 days left on our east-west journey if all goes well, those words still ring true.  After all, where to next?

We spent a few minutes at the pass, admiring the mountain views and trying to process the fact that we are now entering the 10th and final province on our east-west journey.  As we put on sweaters to guard against the rising wind a group of curious Canada Jays gathered around to watch.

 

Finally, we began to descend out of Elk Pass into the Elk Valley in British Columbia.  Behind us the sun was still shining, but the valley ahead was filled with dark and ominous looking clouds.  If we'd thought it was cold on the Alberta side,  that was nothing compared to the icy wind blowing up the valley at us today.  Brrr!

We found ourselves descending on a wide gravel road running underneath a hydro corridor.  As we descended, we passed a sign saying there were active trap lines in the area, and then we emerged into a region that had been heavily logged.

 

As the skies darkened and the winds blew, we suddenly found ourselves surrounded once again by frantic bird activity.  Another mixed group of warblers, including Yellow, Yellow-rumped, Wilson's, Palm, and Black-throated Green Warblers was passing through in a great flurry of activity.  They were joined by Boreal and Mountain Chickadees, several Red-breasted Nuthatches, American Robins, and of course, Dark-eyed Juncos.

 

As Sean put his camera away and we began to descend steeply once again it began to rain.  We had been watching the clouds gather at the mountain tops, making them appear dark, ominous, and gloomy.  As the freezing rain pelted down we looked at the sunny peaks behind us, and felt this wasn't an auspicious beginning to our next province.

We dawned our rain gear and pack covers and continued our descent.  The enormous Mount Aosta to our right still had snow in some of its many crevices, and there were multiple glaciers tucked into the bowls, nooks, and crannies. 

 

Mount Aosta is located in Elk Lakes Provincial Park, which the trail runs beside.  The park features sub-alpine landscapes, remnant glaciers, rugged peaks and productive lakes.  Some of the glacier remnants we may have seen included Mount Fox, Mount Aosta, Mount McCuaig, and Mount Elkan.  While much of park exists above the tree line, the lower slopes are covered in mature growth forests of alpine fir, Englemann spruce, and lodge pole pine.

 

When we got to the base of the steepest part of the descent from Elk Pass we came to a turnoff for Elk Lake Provincial Park.  Soaked through and shivering with coldwe walked down the road and found a parking lot, a glorious and luxurious sounding cabin run by the Alpine Club, and information plaques on a wolverine study that is being conducted in the area.  Hoping to spend an hour drying out and warming up ourselves we opened the door to the nice, warm, dry cabin, but was told immediately by the two French ladies inside that they were cycling through and had reserved the cabin for the week.  We were immediately told that we were not welcome to come in.  We doubted the validity of this statement, but decided to continue on nonetheless, still wet and cold from the rain.

 

 

 

After the turnoff for the park the road was in much better shape, essentially being a gravel access road to the park.  This is what we followed for the next few hours, as we made our way south through the Elk Valley.

The Elk Valley, which is in the Kootenay region of British Columbia, runs from the Alberta border to the Rocky Mountain Trench.  At the bottom flows the Elk River, which is 220 km long and falls within the basin of the mighty Columbia River – a key lifeline in the American western states.

 

Elk Valley is the largest producing coal field in the province, yielding millions of tons of coal annually which is shipped to steel mills around the world.  Today, all of the operating coal mines in the Elk Valley are owned by Teck Resources, a company my father worked 30 years for at their office in Toronto.  As a result I grew up hearing a lot of stories of this region.

 

Around 2:30 pm we came to the first of several Forest Service Campgrounds we will pass along the way to Elkford.  The Upper Elk River Recreation Site offered several campsites with picnic tables and fire pits that were tucked in among the trees, and a pit toilet. As we were exploring, it began to rain again, so we took shelter under the trees until it stopped.  There was a considerable amount of horse droppings around the site, as well as horse hair caught on the rough bark of the trees, and we wondered if this was from wild horses in the area, or from people horse camping.

After a brief break to change some of our wet clothes we slowly made our way down the valley the spectacular mountain views continued to amaze and entertain us.  It was fascinating to watch the play of light on the sharp, triangular slopes as the sun and clouds vied for supremacy in the sky.  It was also fascinating to see how different in texture, colour, and shape the Elk Range on our left was from mountains around Mount Aosta on our right.

 

A few kilometres after Riverside we came to the Tobermory Recreational Site, where there was a tiny Forestry Service cabin!  It had a wood burning stove, a small kitchen, and two bunks inside, and a large covered porch outside. The walls and windows were covered in names and initials of past occupants, and there was a guest book on the table with many pages of entries.  We sat on the porch for a few minutes reading the notes left by dozens of cyclists and a few hikers who stopped by on their journeys along the Continental Divide Trail.

 

The Continental Divide Scenic National Trail (CDT for short), is a US National Scenic Trail.  It is 4,873 km long, running from the US border with Chihuahua, Mexico to the border with Alberta, Canada.  The CDT follows the Continental Divide along the Rocky Mountains, and traverses five US states - New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana.  When they reach the US-Canada border, many cyclists and hikers continue onto the Great Divide Trail (GDT), which extends 1,130 km from Waterton Lakes Provincial Park north to Kakwa Lake Provincial Park, just north of Jasper Provincial Park.  Many of the cyclists we've met in the past few days have been in the final stages of completing this amazing south-north journey.

 

It was interesting to read about the journeys of so many others from all over the world, some of whom had ridden from Argentina to Alaska, others from the Mexico-US border to Banff, and still others who were on their own unique circuits.  As we sat at the cabin, reading about all the adventurers who had come through before us, we wished we could hear the rest of their stories.  Did those who were southbound finish? What did they all see along the way? What adventures unfolded for them?

 

It was very difficult indeed to leave the lovely little cabin behind, but since it was only 3:30 pm, we decided to head onward. We walked for about another hour and a half, although after climbing the pass those final kilometres felt longer.  The mountain views continued to be stunning as we made our way down the gravel road.  It also felt good to be out in the wild.  

 

 

Although it was clear that the Elk Valley has been extensively logged, there isn't much development in the forested valley, and with the exception of the odd car or pickup truck passing us on the road, we were far from the sounds of civilization.  

 

 

 

Around 5 pm we arrived at the Riverside Recreational Area.  This little campground had two picnic tables, several spots to pitch tents tucked into the trees, two fire pits, two places to hang food, and a pit toilet.  It is also located on the side of the Elk River for easy access to water.

The clouds were gathering and hanging heavy on the tops of the mountains again, and it looked like it would rain.  We decided that rather than continuing on to the next campground, which is 11 km farther south, we would stop for the day.  We quickly pitched our tent and put up the tarp in a small area tucked beneath the trees at the edge of the river. As we did so the skies cleared a little again, and we were able to make dinner at the picnic table without getting wet.

 

As we go to sleep it is very dark and quiet. The only sound is the rushing of water in the river. It was a cold, wet day, but we are surrounded by incredible beauty, and we have reached another milestone - one that seemed  incomprehensible just four short years ago.

 

 

 

See you on the trail!

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