A Back-Packing trip in Jasper National Park and Willmore Wilderness Park, Alberta 

A 15 day solo trip to Upper Blue Creek

A.k.a.

The green bean tour

Willow thrashing fishing trip 

Day 1. August 6, 2000. Rock Lake Trailhead (1495m) to Willow Creek Campground (1355m). 14 km.

The day started out from the shores of the Rock Lack campground. I drove five kilometres to the trail parking lot and was greeted by a very enthusiastic crowd of mosquitoes. There were about 20 vehicles in the parking lot with half towing horse trailers (presumably Willmore bound). I loaded the 20 kg backpack and within 2 kilometres, I was off the wide former fire road onto a lightly traveled track that headed downhill. As I passed above a swamp, I watched a cow moose in the water, then she moved towards the bush, but stopped before entering, and she kept a close eye on me. I was then interrupted by a sharp short hailstorm and I found little shelter in the only skinny lodgepole pine forest of the day. After the descent, I entered a wide creek valley, forded Rock Creek, but mostly walked through willows bushes along the aptly named Willow Creek valley. It rained hard at one point and I waited it out under a tree. I was caught in more rain about a kilometre before the Willow Creek warden's cabin. It was 2 hours of waiting in the woodshed (I also dried a few things when the sun returned) while it rained and played cards with Basset & Keith who were exiting from an overnighter. I began to wonder if I had brought enough plastic bags because my trusty old North Face pack is no longer water-resistant. Willow Creek was a very pleasant campsite. I had a nice pasta dinner washed down with "Chateau de Ziploc" red wine. The evening's entertainment was some strange noises coming from a tree. I walked over with wine in hand, to watch an incredulous tree simply fall down. Yes a falling tree in the forest does make a noise. Around 8;00 p.m., it cleared right off, so I marched through wet willow bushes to the Snake Indian River (silty, no fishing) to soak my long pants and boots. I crashed after returning to the camp, someone arrived at the campsite, but I disappeared into sleep-land.

Day 2. Willow Creek Campground to Little Heaven (1690 m). 18 km.

I became briefly acquainted with Jerry from Little Rock Arkansas, the late evening arrival. He and I are doing similar routes in different sequences. I marched along the North Boundary Trail, the only section of that trail I was to do. 10 km of wet, soggy grass and willows soaked water onto me from my waist down. I stopped a couple of times to POUR water out my boots. The 3 layers of waterproofing I had put on my boots seemed very effective at keeping the water in. The Snake Indian River Valley is very wide (scenic, but not dramatic) with mountains a long way off, beckoning from the west. The country was open, mixed meadows with lodgepole pine and aspen forests. Plenty of animal tracks, but none sighted. I turned off the main trail onto the Glacier Pass Trail, more sogginess until I climbed into the woods and a final stiff grunt through trees and occasional fantastic view to Little Heaven. The campsite is set next to a meadow and Mowitch Creek a little ways below. Scenic and quiet.

While the light showers had eased, I was experiencing sunny breaks, so I decided to do clothes washing and person washing. A small creek runs close by each jasper campsite so far and there was plenty of firewood. I had too much hot water in the end (8 litre portable wash basin awash with very hot water). Suddenly a strange sensation; clean body and clean clothes.! Simple pleasures! The afternoon also marked the discovery of the soft taco. I grilled a tortilla with aged cheddar on the fire and added pesto and alfalfa sprouts and presto a nice snack. After dinner, I made my way down to the Mowitch Creek hoping for some fishing. It was nice wading back and forth the gravel-bottomed creek in bracing clear water but no fishing holes. So Little Heaven doesn't have fishing, a golf course or a single visible angel. It does have mosquitoes, nice views and lots of firewood. A nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to spend eternity there!

Day 3. Little Heaven to Spruce Pine. 10 km.

I got out of the tent to frost (August 8th and it frosts at night) and had another wack at fishing further downstream. Nothing but a nice walk. After an early lunch, I headed up the Mowitch Valley, sometimes at the stream's edge, others in the forest. The scenery wasn't especially inspiring and I found the 10 km slow; I suppose the first 2 days of hauling a heavy pack had taken their toll. I left 3 days of food hanging at Little Heaven but my pack still didn't feel light with only 9 days of food in it. I decided to call it quits at Spruce Pine rather than pushing on a further 5 km to the last camp in the valley. This turned out to be fortuitous as the next camp is one of the few unappealing campsites in all of Jasper Park. Spruce Pine was a nice campsite with good views of the Noonday Peak wall and a hanging glacier. Whilst the weather had appeared threatening all day, there were sunny breaks and I seized the opportunity for another bucket bath and did some laundry. Later in the evening, I had 2 visitors; a deer and Steve from Edmonton who arrived around 8:00 p.m. (it gets dark around 10:00 p.m.). This turned out to be the end of the line for Steve who headed back to Celestine Lake.

Day 4. Spruce Pine to Brewster's Wall (1800m) via Glacier Pass (2100m). 20 km.

I was greeted by a rain shower at breakfast. I felt revitalized as I climbed the 10 km to Glacier Pass, first through forest, then soaking wet willow bushes and finally wet alpine flowers that managed to soak my boots that had just dried for the first time in 2 days. Clouds cleared away from Noonday Peak and I soaked in the sunshine around 11:00 a.m.. Grey ominous clouds moved in quickly, providing the standard 5 minute warning before it rained. So I saw the pass in sun and rain. I wasn't sure where to keep my eyes on; the trail, stunning scenery or to look out for a large grizzly with huge claws that had passed along the trail earlier on. I've concluded that photos do the Canadian Rockies no justice as there is so much more to the experience. There are a few hanging glaciers spotted about the pass area and the Willmore side seemed more impressive with a string of jagged, rocky peaks along the western side. I descended the open meadows to South Sulphur Creek. Willmore is a horse trekking area so the trail was cut to maximize the number of creek crossings (no bridges). After rock hopping (one soaker) and boot removals to ford the creek, I put on sandals and kept them on. I probably crossed the creek 20 times. It felt like I was cruising down the valley in bathroom slippers. Eventually I put socks on and that enhanced the grip on my 5 dollar sandals.

Day 5. Brewster's Wall (1800m) to West Sulphur River. 14 km.

The day started out with semi-frozen boots, a centimetre of ice on the water basin and plenty of frost on the tent. It had been a cold night and I wondered why I hadn't cleaned my sleeping bag to revitalize the down after 250 plus nights of use. Not 20 minutes down the trail and I hit the lake that I had been seeking yesterday. It was a stunner with Brewster's wall as a backdrop and several peaks thrown in for good measure. From one angle it was green and from another it was blue. There was a well-appointed campsite at the outlet (and another part way up the south side). I decided to check out if there was any fishing potential and eventually circled the lake (about 30-40 minutes). I found one inlet creek (to oxygenate the water and fish) but the lake was shallow, I eventually found an interesting inlet on the deep side of the lake. I caught 4 bull trout, one must have weighed 3 pounds. The colouration of the fish's dots was a pale orange (I have seen much brighter and attributed the lack of colour to a lack of oxygen). The water was clear and I could see a dozen plus fish, often traveling in pairs or even 5 or 6. I watched all of the fish take the lure. Later I took a dip in the lake and was able to approach the fish within 2 metres. Alas, bull trout are catch and release, so it looked like fish was off the menu.

I left the lake around 11:30, still elated, and headed back down to the South Sulphur River trail and a few creek fords, then the trail improved and rose above the river and a canyon. West Sulphur River was reached and forded a couple of times, the good trail passing through dry willow bushes. A warden's cabin is being built (almost complete today) and I stopped into to talk to the builders. I was treated to some interesting information about the trail ahead and a slice of Cantelope. I continued up the river and halted at a fine campsite, rather than higher-up (colder). Body wash and clothes wash all made relatively easy with my wash basin that seems to have changed my life! Like all, but the first campsite on Day 1, a good supply of chopped firewood is available. A magnificent, twisted, folded mountain faces the campsite. Clouds rolled in on the near perfect day and the rain forces me into the tent to listen to incredible thunder in all directions.

Day 6. West Sulphur River to Upper West Sulphur River (1750m). 5 km.

The day started out in fog or mist. I decided to press on, hoping it would all clear off to reveal a blue sky day, glimpses of which I saw for brief moments. My boots became quickly waterlogged, the mountains remained hidden as I climbed the valley with its flat plateaus with impressive beaver engineering. I continued up to a point where I wasn't sure I was on the right trail, unable to take bearings (no visibility) and assailed by a rainstorm that forced me under a tree for half an hour. I scouted the trail that started to head steeply DOWN the other side of the watershed and decided to return down to an earlier trail junction (that lead nowhere earlier) and hope for weather improvement. I made a quick fire to heat up pasta lunch (last night's dinner) then continued back down as rain set in (I had no intention of crossing the pass and missing out on the views). I was thinking about returning to the last night's camp when the rain let up and the mountains partly cleared. A falcon swooped past me quite close, then it was joined by another; they appeared curious about me. I also heard a bell and thought it was a horse at first, but it turned out to be the "New Yorker" and "photographer" all rolled into one that I heard of on the trail. He was heading back to Rock Lake. I found him on the other side of the creek on another (correct) trail. We talked in the rain (he called this a Class A hike) then he went on while I spotted a campsite and found a dry patch beneath a tree and ducked out of the rain.

I rigged my tent up so that the front part is completely sheltered from the rain. I'm wearing dry clothes and I am under my sleeping bag and feet are still cold. One of the activities I did to warm up included redistributing the down in my sleeping bag in a hopeless attempt to improve its warming power. My feet did warm up. The rain eased over the dinner hour enough to provide exceptional views of the rock faces at the pass. Clouds swirl, rain falls and the wind blows. There is a very raw beauty here. On the food front, the last courgette (zucchini) was eaten today. It would have lasted longer except the beans are looking so good. The cheese, pepperoni and whole wheat tortillas are all still holding up very well. Of course the food chills to just above freezing every night and stays cool in the backpack as daytime temperatures hit a whopping 15C on a warm day. The tent has a virtual standing vestibule as I am camped nicely under the still dry trees and the food hang was a minor ordeal but sits well now. It's time to read for a while before submerging into sleep (it's around 8:30p.m.). I can hear the occasional grunt or yelp somewhere in the distance, though nothing is visible from here.

Day 7. West Sulphur River to Caribou Inn via Hardscrabble Pass (1965m) 16 km plus 3 km detour around Azure Lake

Another frosty start and I started early (7:00a.m.). It was a beautiful sunrise on the mountains. I passed through trees, then wildflowers in expansive meadows with endless streams and impressive views on a pipe-organ or fortress style mountain. I saw a solitary caribou at some distance but otherwise saw no large animals. The marmots were very approachable (apparently they were pesky to the New Yorker who camped there the previous evening and he had to throw rocks at them to stop then from chewing his ski pole handle). There were pikas too. As views of Willmore receded, I crossed a firm rocky narrow pass then continued up to the highest point of the crossing to views of Blue Creek Valley and Azure Lake below. 

 I dropped off the trail to investigate the Willmore side of the lake, walking down ideal ski slopes (wildflowers and pine clumps) to a shallow, exposed 2 km long lake which had most the characteristics of a tarn, except it was big. I had originally intended to stay near the lake on the Willmore side but decided to press on down the Blue Creek Valley. Initially I wandered through the meadows, but eventually found the trail. At times it was easy going, other times the trail seemed to vanish. Fairly interesting peaks on both side, then I reached Willow Alley with the branches whipping my shins endlessly. Finally, I reached a lodgepole forest (really tall, thin tress well spaced apart, like a ponderosa pine forest) and dropped down to the welcome sight of the Caribou Inn.

The Caribou Inn campsite has a fire pit/grill, basic latrine, food hang and a few comfy logs to sit on. After pitching the tent, I dropped in to see the warden (Phil) who happened to be staying at the Inn (the warden's cabin side of the creek). Later he provided insight into the rather unique way of life, traveling from cabin to cabin on horseback, especially the work involved each morning to get underway (catching, feeding and packing the horses to start with). When he described his food (he had roast that evening), my mouth watered and the lentils and rice suddenly didn't sound so appealing. Phil was a nice guy and lent me a blanket for the night (I was wingeing about how cold it gets in the early morning). Either the down sleeping bag needs to be cleaned or my body shuts down at night. When I headed for my tent, it was still light at 9:00 in the evening and the temperature was 6C. 

Day 8. Caribou Inn. Day walks to Caribou Lake and Caribou Creek.

Overnight temperatures were mild (a balmy 2C). After a chat with Phil in the morning, I walked along the caribou Creek trail up to the lake. It's a beauty with milky green water and a very respectable mountain backdrop. The trail thinned a little along the lake as I made it to the other end, crossed 2 of the inlet creeks to try a little fishing. In about half an hour I had landed 2 rainbows (I released the smaller one). The limit on introduced fish species is 2 while the native Dolly Vardens (bull trout) are catch and release. While I was fishing, it began to snow and temporarily blanketed the higher ground above me. It melted quickly in the pursuing rain. The trout was excellent (cooked in aluminum foil). The weather threatened to improve so I did some laundry. Wave after wave of rain, even hail, returned and the 4:00 p.m. temperature read 7C on the Warden's cabin thermometer. It was a real cool 2 hours I spent on the cabin porch with its splendid views over the Ancient Wall that was often covered in cloud that afternoon.

Once you have caught and eaten fish, a part of the hunter-gatherer is aroused, so I don't know if I had to fulfill more of my original instincts or if I felt moving was better than sitting still (even risking get wet), but I put on a wet pair of socks (3 pairs were already wet) and put on my soggy boots. I headed off into the light rain after 5:00 p.m. in the now 6C temperature to go fishing and hopefully catch some dinner. Initially I had some discouraging luck fishing. I released a small one form Caribou Creek but the rain stopped and the sun came out. Then it really was fantastic. I reached the lake and decided to fish a nearby small inlet that required fording the Caribou Creek outlet in my underwear. So I found myself fishing the lake (unsuccessfully) in my underwear (no pictures). Disappointed, I headed down the creek path back to the campsite, fully clothed and still a fishing rod in my hand. I spotted a flat section of water and a somewhat unlikely pool. First cast and I brought in dinner, a 2 pound Rainbow. I don't think I returned to the camp till 8:30 p.m., so it was a scramble to make dinner, get the camp ready for the night, let the cat out and fall to sleep.

Day 9. Caribou Inn. More of Caribou Creek and Blue Creek.

Frost once again this morning and not a very promising sky. I woke up frequently in the early hours of the morning because I was cold. So I took a leisurely start to the day. Strong, fresh coffee was followed by a hot shave. I put on the soggy boots on with rain pants and headed down the valley to try out the fishing in the pools of Blue Creek itself. I pushed and shoved my way through willow bushes before I determined that I should have stayed on the main path to the pools. The weather steadily improved.

I caught four Rainbow in about an hour, though three of them were small. The largest was about 1 1/2 pounds. Unfortunately, it began to bleed quite badly when I was removing the hook with pliers. Apparently, the survival rate is very poor for heavily bleeding fish so I kept it for lunch. So far I have only caught rainbow in this area.

The sunshine continued to persist allowing me to pursue domestic duties and a relaxing afternoon with the butterflies. As the campsite is on the edge of a lodgepole forest, but wildflowers predominate in the actual camp, attracting dozens of butterflies at any given moment. I saw a couple of them still fluttering yesterday evening at 10:00p.m. and cool temperatures. I've tried (successfully) to focus on fishing here as I can climb up valleys and ridges anywhere, though tomorrow I'll walk up to the Natural Arch which is also visible from the trail. I walked up and along almost all of Caribou Creek seeking fishing pools. Surprisingly, there are not that many on each side of the creek. I fished all on the north side for 2 rainbows (small). The pool that I had caught diner on the first cast last night yielded nothing. Whilst the fishing has been very good, it has been challenging and is certainly not a slam-dunk. Other people have been ecstatic about it while others have been so-so. However, the weather was brilliant sunny (13C). Nice views of the Ancient Wall from the creek as well as from the Warden's cabin. I'm hoping to catch the sunset.

The drinking water here at Blue Creek has been exceptional. Many of the other creeks also have exceptional water but here it seems a cut above the rest. It's too bad that so many hikers treat their water and lose the incredible pure taste. 

Day 10. Caribou Inn to Topaz Lake campsite. 8km. Plus side-trip to Natural Arch and to Wardens' cabin.

Last night's fantastic sunset on the Ancient Wall was witnessed in the 4C temperatures.

I reached Topaz campsite by lunch under threatening skies. It began to rain, so rather than fording the creek and bush-wacking to Topaz Lake, I strolled down the main trail hoping for some promising fishing. I reached the Warden's cabin 2.5 km along and its really wide open views of the jagged Ancient Wall. The campsites have been without impressive views (stuck in the trees) while the cabins and horse camps (and their need for grazing areas) offer wide open views. I kept a close eye on the creek but decided to try upstream from the campsite. I thrashed through more willow bushes, found few pools, caught one small Rainbow, snagged and lost a lure, then called it quits. I grabbed an early dinner to allow time to visit Topaz Lake in the evening. With skies ever threatening and tired legs, I decided to rest and perhaps catch another sunset if it cleared. The visible sunset was early due to clouds, around 8:45 p.m. but it is still light till 10:00p.m. I took a 4 km return walk to gain a clear view of the Ancient Wall. My boots are warm and dry (they feel like slippers), though the tent vestibule zipper has been out-of-service for 3 or 4 days now. I try to position the door away from possible rain. Today was a great relief on the food side. As I have 3 days of food at Little Heaven and one more night before I reach the food cache, it is easy to visualize whether there is enough grub. Today I couldn't even finish lunch so it went into tonight's dinner. The food seems to have worked out with pepperoni finally finished off yesterday on Day 9 (its currency had greatly diminished now that I was eating fish) and the cheese and green beans are still traveling well. The tortilla (2 or 3 left) are just now showing signs of wear. It feels much warmer this evening (the 4km walk helped) and there are still mosquitoes about. The life of a mosquito seems pretty haphazard as they fly about, then suddenly a rare meal appears out of nowhere, but it's this giant ogre that can practically blow your wings off. That same ogre has declared his personal space to be a "no fly" zone with orders to smack on sight.

 Day 11 Topaz Lake campsite to Ancient Wall campsite. 4km. Plus return trip to far end of Topaz Lake (10km).

The usual below zero night and I woke up to clear skies. After a brisk fording of Blue Creek, I headed  through forest and found a lightly traveled trail on the north side of Topaz Creek to Lake Topaz. The lake is magnificent with milky green water and I was greeted by a loon on arrival. Though it has less impressive mountains than Caribou Lake, I felt its overall impression was better. I fell on and off a seldom-used trail for 3km to the other end of the lake. Lakeside, I followed cougar tracks, however, I've been surprised by the paucity of tracks and game in this valley compared to others. While I fished, I also enjoyed good views of the Ancient Wall. The fishing proved difficult; 1 Rainbow (kept) and a second managed to shake the lure off in a spectacular leap just in front of me. Some of the rainbows have put on great aerobatics routines, but generally they lack the vigor of the bull trout. The day clouded, then threatened as I headed back down to Topaz campsite.

Day 12 Ancient Wall campsite to Little Heaven via McLarens Pass (2100 m). 23 km.

A night with above freezing temperatures brought on a foggy morning. Oh-oh, the last time this happened it turned out pretty wet and cold. Crack-on! It was warm enough, around 5C, first thing to allow for mosquito smacking at the fire while sipping on fresh coffee. I broke camp in an hour and headed down a fast trail through the last of the Blue Creek dry meadows, passed the canyons and to forest, descending in all for almost 2 hours before the up junction to McLaren's Pass. From there it was stiff uphill some 5 or 600 metres of elevation gain and good views from almost the start. At one point, the terrain narrowed into a steep narrow valley with rock on the other side of the creek and a mixture of grass and rock on the north side. When I came around one corner, I caught a bull caribou off-guard some 60 metres above me. He pranced up the steep hills as if it was level and we both headed in the same direction for a short while though he went up much higher. He had huge rack, much larger than those that adorn the Topaz Lake Warden's cabin. He was dark chocolate brown in colour with a white tail. Reaching the flowered meadows of the pass, views opened up over the Snake Indian river and as far west as Mount Robson with only little cloud. The wind came up and I looked around to see the view of Robson wouldn't get better by climbing a hill behind the Ancient Wall, so I opted to have some lunch and continue on, after a wee wander through the dry meadows. The descent down, sharp at first, then a gradual trail without views (in forest) was in very good shape but seemed too long (my first +20km day). I reached the familiar setting of Little Heaven, a pleasant spot.

On arrival, I noticed that my food cache had been tampered with. Now that was a pleasant surprise. A horse group left me with 1/4 of a bottle of real wine! So tonight as maitre d'hote, I will be able to offer wine from nos caves. No mind that it Californian! I've put up the tent without the fly but flies encircle it. It's nice to sit or lie down and not have to worry about flies. They come in all shapes and sizes; mozzies, deer flies, black flies, horseflies, real tiny ones, real tiny ones with extra long wings that look like long dresses, cool red flies and tiger stripped ones. They all seem less interested in my companionship (I'm not much of a conversationalist when there are no other people) but all seem to have the same objective; to bite me. In the beautiful sunshine there is some blessing to the wind as it blows the bugs off. I cannot decide, no, I can decide. You hear or notice the sound of bugs more than any other sound. Other sounds include the wind, water (creeks), rain falling, fire crackling, Glenn clapping his hand to kill bugs (though he prefers the one-handed grab them out of the air routine), thunder, squirrels, my own footsteps, creaking of the trees, creaking of my pack (or is it my back) and birds.

The note with the wine read: "Aug 15/2000 hello Glenn! We had some wine leftover, and thought you'd maybe like some. It's quite good. Salut! Simon + the Towney IV gang". Simon was right. It was quite good. Kendall Jackson Zindafel 1996 Vintner's Reserve was tasty, very fruity, like a jam but not sweet. Delicious. It was a nice meal with some leftover trout. The food cache also seemed quite heavy on the "snacks" compared to the previous days so I'll be munching those banana chips and candied peanuts like there is no tomorrow until they run out. It's a good thing that the food cache was still in place because I was carrying mostly empty Ziploc bags.

Day 13. Little Heaven to Campsite in Willmore on rock Creek at the base of Eagle's Nest Pass (1700m). 15 km.

The morning after the big booze up with 1/4 bottle of red wine. I wake up with a headache. I take an Ibuprofen and it goes away. It's not freezing first thing in the morning but it has been a cool night. It's overcast with blackish hue on the horizon. I took my time in the morning and was out by 9:00a.m. (I got up at 7:45). The pack is heavier with more food and the empty wine bottle. I figure the outfitters leave 1/4 bottles behind so backpackers can lug out the empties. It was the heaviest bottle I have ever lifted or carried for 3 days. Ha ha ha.

I marched down through the meadows towards the gap in the hills, following Mowitch creek which continued into an almost canyon with large wash-out soil banks on alternating sides forcing the trail to cross over and over again. Eventually, I put my sandals on for the third and forth crossings. I reached Rock Creek with its similar terrain though wider and the forested Rock creek campsite (seldom used) shortly thereafter. I heated up lunch (leftovers again?) then continued up the easy incline, past the Warden's cabin (thermometer indicated 16C at mid-day), over the park boundary ("No Firearms" sign) into Willmore Wilderness. The valley continued to widen and I thrashed through willows until I reached a campsite. I'm situated at the base of Eagle's Nest Pass. I had expected train after train of horses. Still haven't seen anyone yet. It's been 6 days since I saw Phil the Warden. Where is everyone? I haven't started to talk to myself but wonder what will happen in the human world. Will I talk to everyone I see? When I need to pee, will I just suddenly stop and pee in the next bush?

Today warrants special mention because of the arrival of new spices; the Nasi Goreng mix (stored in the food cache). And the green beans and cheddar cheese still march on! The campsite itself has a real horse smell. Perhaps there are ghosts of horses past but more likely it is the smell of manure in the small corral. I walked along Rock Creek trail for a short distance; it doesn't seem to get a huge amount of traffic (horses only it seems). The camp seems to specialize in the red flies that move so fast. They can suddenly be hovering then moving from side to side in front of your nose and if you go to swat them, the only thing you hit is your nose. I wonder if the Dalai Lama would swat mosquitoes. If asked, I'm sure he'd laugh and say they are only mosquitoes trying to bite you. Of course you swat them. I've also developed real skills on this trip. If asked about my strengths at a job interview, I could respond "I'm good at killing mosquitoes". Not to belabour the point, but the bugs are not horrific as I rarely put repellant on. The Starlight Ridge is on the western side of Rock Creek; there is a fantastic 10 mile ridge walk possible in good weather and with another day (in my 2 weeks, I can't do everything).

Day 14. Rock Creek to Wildhay River campsite (east of Shrew Creek) (1400m). 19 km.

I began with a cool-ish morning and was all set to hit the road at 7:30 a.m. when drizzle, then rain came in so I waited in the ten for an hour. Blue skies appeared so I hit the trail, the real trail, very quickly on. It's not the little one I wandered on last night but something a 4WD would enjoy. I walked up about 100 metres through a gap in the mountains and some interesting rock walls, formations then headed down into the beautiful Wildhay valley. It took less than 2 hours from creek to creek despite the slick mud. Showers moved in over the Persimmon range. And as I scurried down the valley with my rain coat on, I stopped at the Alberta Forest Patrol hut,. Hoping for a porch to stand on/under, the door was unlocked. Anyone is free to stay in the 4 bunk hut that includes a wood stove, Coleman stove, table chairs as long as it is left clean. There is even a free food shelf that others have left behind and a sign saying "help yourself if you need it" and I did. I grabbed a can of, yes, green beans and also of mushrooms. A couple of noodle soups, a soup mix and I was a happy camper. It later threatened but never rained the remainder of the day as I enjoyed noodle soup with canned vegies for lunch (they were more interesting than the rice and lentils at the time). Suddenly I started to meet people coming up the trail; it is Saturday on a main access trail. Views of the charming valley disappeared and the wide trail kept in the trees. The trail is good enough for an American President's motorcade to drive down. Even the Pope-mobile could navigate the trail, though some work might be required to the suspension if he wanted a smooth ride. It did turn muddy in places and I could understand how horrible the trail might be after plenty of rain (more suitable to mud wresting than hiking).

I found a horse campsite (no one else around) and took my last Willmore back-country bucket shower for a while and ate all the new food. I was so full that I couldn't eat anymore.

Day 15. August 20, 2000. Wildhay River campsite to Rock Lake Trailhead (1490 m). 5 km.

Frozen water again in the washbasin. Frosty! I broke camp, forded the Wildhay Creek and it took about 15 minutes to feel my toes again. It was a quick walk uphill for the most part to parking lot. The beat-up old Honda had difficulty in starting, but soon thereafter I was on the asphalt trail wondering why I was driving away from the mountains.