'On the Menu' : Banff to Spray Lake West Campground

After moving campsites to the other end of Tunnel Mountain Village I Campground yesterday, last night was spent without much sleep.  The campground was fully booked for the long weekend, and people arrived well into the night.  After driving in, they slammed their vehicle doors over and again, set off their car alarms, and shone incredibly powerful head lamps in every direction as they tried to set up their tents in the dark, many doing so for the first time...at 2 am in the morning.

To top it off, part way through the night the wind shifted and it suddenly felt and smelled like someone had lit a campfire in our fire pit, and the dry heat and smoke were blowing directly into our tent.  The truly scary part was that no one had a fire going anywhere near us at that point - the valley had suddenly filled with smoke from the forest fires in the BC and the coastal states in America.

When the campers across from us got up at 4:50 am and began discussing at full volume their planned 15 km hike and subsequent epic 5 km cycling trip, we lay there for another half hour before deciding sleep was futile.  We made breakfast, packed up, and set off.

As we trekked past the entrance gate to the campground the first Park’s Canada ranger for the morning was arriving.  We had chatted with him upon our arrival about our #hike4birds along the Trans Canada Trail and as we passed him he soberly came over and bluntly commented that we needed to “be smart and stay safe in the Rocky Mountains.  But above all you have to remember that out there you are on the menu.”  Humbled we continued toward Banff, and navigated our way to the Spray River West Trailhead below the Banff Springs Hotel.

We set off down the 3 m wide, crushed stone dust pathway around 8 am into a magical looking morning, the thick smoke giving the forest around us a soft, almost misty feel.  For the first half hour we had the trail to ourselves, the tall, dark, straight trunks of the spruce and lodgepole pine trees rising up among a delicate emerald green understory, and the sounds of the rushing waters of Spray Creek drifting up from below.

A sign at the trail head had indicated that we were walking through a wildlife corridor, which meant that it provided passage for elk, deer, bears, moose, wolves, and coyotes between important habitats used to find food, shelter, and mates.  Lynx, red foxes, and pine martins also inhabit this area, but typically only their tracks are spotted.

Equipped with this knowledge we set off with high hopes of spotting some wildlife, and we weren't disappointed.  As we rounded a bend in the path a patch of dark brown fur among the underbrush, and the soft snap of a twig alerted us to the presence of an elk grazing in the forest understory! 

It turned out not to be just one elk, but a herd of about 50 individuals!  Most were females or young, standing and sitting spread out among the trees on the hillside.  However, one was a male with a truly impressive set of gigantic antlers!  We watched as he chased a young buck off, forcing him away down the trail ahead of us.  We spent a very happy half hour, amazed and humbled that they allowed us to quietly watch and photograph them through the trees as they huffed, sneezed, and ripped the leaves off young saplings in long sweeping motions.

The elk weren't the only wildlife coming to life as the sun rose higher, peeking over the mountains and creating visible shafts of light in the smoky air. Flocks of Dark-eyed Juncos and Yellow-rumped Warblers moved through the canopy, and the indignant complaints of an American Robin could be heard from somewhere up hill.  We spotted a Varied Thrush hiding among the branches of a conifer.

As the roar of the rapids in the river below us grew louder, we spotted a pair of White-winged Crossbills perched atop a thick spruce branch pine.  A group of curious Canada Jays came to check us out, joined by three tiny Boreal Chickadees.

About 5 km into our walk we came to a large open grassy area with a roofed bench on the side of the river.  A small metal foot bridge spanned the creek, apparently leading to a set of back country camp sites.  A couple of day hikers headed across the bridge and out of sight as we took a break at the bench, passing us within a friendly nod.

From the resting spot we could see down the rocky bed of the wide, shallow river as its crystal clear waters meandered down the treed valley. The mountains in the background were lit by the morning sun, their forested bases giving way to exposed, jagged, rocky peaks above.

It was a beautiful spot for a break, but we were being absolutely swarmed by White-bowed Smoothwing flies.  Their large bodies were striped white and black, presumably to impersonate a more well-defended and dangerous bee or wasp.  Luckily, they are flower flies that don't bite, and are particularly attracted to blue flowers, which might explain their apparent obsession with our blue water bottles and my backpack.

After this point the trail became slightly rougher, clearly no longer being groomed for guests of the luxurious Banff Springs Hotel.  However, it remained a wide gravel track that twisted, turned, and undulated up and down through the forested slopes along the creek.  Around 10 am a couple passed us on bicycles, whooping loudly at every blind corner and hill, presumably to let others know they were coming and to scare off any bears.  As their joyful and repeated whoops receded into the distance another group of four young cyclists passed us their muscular legs slowly trudging them uphill.

As the morning progressed the trail wove up and down along the steep valley walls of the Spray River below us.  At times we were high above the water, looking down at rushing rapids seemingly far below.  At other times we descended to water level.  Along the way, gaps in the trees provided fantastic views of the mountains, which as the morning progressed were becoming increasingly hidden by smoke.

Eventually we reached a fork in the trail, and decided to take a small snack break while sitting on a large trailside log.  About a dozen teenagers gathered at the same point, peddling hard or pushing their bikes up a long slope before taking a break.  Clearly we weren't the only ones finding the constant and sometimes steep ups and downs tiring on the legs.

After our short stop the Trans Canada Trail forked towards the left, picking up the Goat Creek Trail.  Pathway conditions and views continued much the same as before, as we wove up and down along the forested slopes of Goat Creek.  At some point in the morning we had rounded a mountain and left the sounds of Banff and Highway 1 behind.  It was such a wonderful feeling to be surrounded by the sounds of birds, the rushing water below, the wind in the trees above us, and the crunching of our own footsteps on the trail.

In this stretch we passed many families of Spruce Grouse.  We would often spot the females first, standing in the middle of the trail like sentinels.  As we approached we would spot multiple young, brown juveniles doing their best to blend into the trailside grasses and shrubs.  The mothers made soft murping and cooing sounds while the young answered with quiet, high pitched squeaks.  Although we must have passed about ten Spruce Grouse families, we only saw one or two males.

Another birding highlight was spotting a Three-toed Woodpecker making its way up the side of a spruce tree.  It was stripping a layer of bark away as it went, peeling off chunks like corn flakes in a strange sideways motion.  It was easy to tell which trees had been visited by one of these unusual woodpeckers, because the grey exterior of their trunks was gone, leaving behind a more vulnerable reddish interior, and a large pile of wood chips lay at their bases.

We crossed the fast-moving waters of Goat Creek on a footbridge, being rewarded by views down the forested valley and along the mountain stream.  Although we kept a sharp lookout for bears along the rocky shoals, we failed to spot any.

As the afternoon progressed the trail seemed to become more challenging, although this perception may have been tainted by the fact that we were each carrying nine days of food and our packs were oppressively heavy.  Nonetheless, we seemed to be endlessly climbing in the hot afternoon sunshine.  The hot, dry air smelled strongly like wood smoke, and the sunlight filtering through the haze was orange, casting strange blue shadows.

Around 2:30 pm we came to the turnoff for the Goat Creek Trail parking lot, which is currently closed for construction.  At this point we also passed out of Banff National Park, and back into the Bow Valley Wildland Provincial Park, which we had already partially ventured through on our way north to Banff.

As we emerged into an open area that looked like it might once have been a quarry, another young cyclist passed us. There was a small, shallow lake, its improbably green waters reflecting the mountains above it.  Although it was quite exposed, and the sun was hot, the scenery was so stunning we decided to take a break on a small wooden structure beside the pond.

When we continued on we picked up the High Rockies Trail, which we will follow through the Rocky Mountains to the Elk Pass on the border between Alberta and British Columbia.

This challenging 80 km long mountain trail has no services along the way and no cell coverage, although there is frequent access to the Smith-Dorian Trail (a gravel road) that parallels the route.  This trail was opened in 2017 after 25 years of dedicated work by Alberta TrailNet and the Great Trail, and it is viewed by many as a crowning achievement in connecting Alberta and British Columbia.  Understandably, since it opened it has been very popular with hikers and especially cyclists.

To our delight we found that the beginning of the High Rockies Trail was a beautifully shaded grassy track.  It was much easier going than the constant ups and downs we'd been doing, and the glorious shade provided much appreciated respite from the white skies and blazing orange sun.

We seemed to be experiencing the best of two worlds - easy walking and absolutely stunning mountain scenery. The light double lines of the old logging or quarry road curved through stands of tall conifers and wound through open meadows.  Across the grassy expanses we  could see the other side of Mt. Rundle, its many blue tinged peaks receding into the distance in the hazy afternoon.

We crossed another creek, it's cold, clear waters beckoning to us.  Another gorgeous mountain view took the place of the first, as another mountain rose up ahead of us.  It's hard to describe the feeling of being surrounded by so much beauty.

Eventually the trail led us out into a hydro corridor.  The walking was easy, following an open grassy line bordered on both sides by tall conifers.  A highlight was having a group of Canada Jays come out and follow us down the trail for a while.

Suddenly we rounded a corner and saw the deep, bright blue waters of the Spray Lake Reservoir ahead of us.  A small side trail took us to a dam across the end of it.  Looking down its light grey pebble beaches, we could see mountains rising up like the walls of fortress all around its bright waters.

Bleached white driftwood poked up above the surface, looking from a distance like flocks of gulls.  The cool breeze coming down the length of the waterbody felt so deliciously cool and refreshing!

Although Spray Lakes Campground West, which was our destination for tonight, is located on the shores of the reservoir, we still had quite a few kilometres left to walk down its length.

As we progressed around the base of the mountain beside us we crossed an increasing number of streams tumbling down its side.  The low lying ground became increasingly wet and marshy until we found ourselves walking on a very long, brand new looking, wooden boardwalk! 

The reds, yellows, and many greens of the marsh vegetation on either side reminded us strongly of the beautiful Boreal marshes we crossed on both the East Coast Trail and T'Railway Trail in Newfoundland. 

At one point we passed a small pond, its still, dark brown waters standing still and undisturbed, providing mirror like reflections. Its smooth surface was broken by bleached white driftwood that stuck up like bones.

As we approached the campground we spotted a gorgeous mountain stream, it's clear waters tumbling down a stream bed bordered by moss.  We almost stopped there for the night, but figured it might not be wise to wild camp illegally so close to a campground on a long weekend.

When we reached the Spray Lakes West Campground we saw the overflow parking lot first, which looked alarmingly full.  It was Saturday night of Labour Day Weekend, and this was a first-come-first-served campground.  Luckily for us, the staff were very sympathetic to campers who arrived on foot or bicycle, and found a way to squeeze us into the overflow sites.

The overflow area was essentially a large gravel parking lot surrounded by picnic tables.  We pitched our tent on a small, shady, mostly level patch of grass and set about making dinner.  In some ways being in the overflow lot was a blessing, because it was literally only a couple steps off the trail.  The proper campsites were 1.5 km and 4.5 km down the road along the reservoir. It turned out that the water tap was 2 km down that road, but at least we didn't have to haul our heavy packs all the way there and back.

Over the course of the evening a couple from Belgium rode into the campground on their heavily laden cycles.  They had taken three months to bike up from San Francisco. They were heading to Banff, and were then planning to head south again through the High Sierras.  What an adventure!

We also met an Asian-Canadian couple, who stopped to ask about our hike. The way they expressed their amazement at our endeavour reminded us strongly of Jaques, a wonderful fellow from France whom we met walking the Camino San Salvador in Spain.  The emphatic way he would exclaim 'Oh my God!' stuck with everyone who met him.

As we lay here, camped at the edge of a lake, surrounded by stunning mountains, under a blanket of stars, we can hear the sounds of other campers playing a board game nearby and the eerie calls of a Common Loon out on the water.  This is a sound we haven't heard in many months, but one which always reminds us of home.  It is a lovely way to end a long day that was filled with beauty.

As we slipped off to sleep one thought came to me - that we had made it through our first day in the high Rockies and kept ourselves "off the menu".

 

See you on the trail!

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