UNVEILING A SUMMER OF LOVE,

ADVENTURES AND PHOTOGRAPHIC JOURNEYS IN…

...LAKE O’HARA, YOHO NATIONAL PARK, CANADA.

(A southwesterly view over Lake O’Hara, oho National Park, Canada, at an elevation of 2020 meters, as we reach the edge of the lake, only a few minutes in from the start of our day hike.)

He had been dreaming of this place for over thirty years!

Today, fantasy was to meet with reality.

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After a quick breakfast, we packed our 3-man tent, still filled with the morning dew, left everything we didn't need for our hike in the special lockers designated to us, strapped our backpacks on itching to leave for what was going to be the very best hike of my life.

(Looking northwesterly and toward our campsite, from Lake O’Hara, gave us a clear view of our location amid this mountainous dreamscape.)

Following on our previous day’s steps, we followed the creek to Lake O’Hara where we veered left on Wiwaxy Gap Trail. If you happen to go up that way and wonder what hike would be the must-do as you are up there only for a day, this is the one, simple as that.

Fresh and well rested from a very decent night sleep, we eagerly started our long hike up the steep category 3. Though no route finding is really necessary for “most people”, the exposure and risk involved should one trip or fall could be devastating. Coming across an older couple of tourists making their way up the route and having lost the trail signs, we helped them back on track and made sure they would be capable to make the whole trip safely. I couldn’t help myself but to be reminded of what the fear of height does to someone when it really hits you.

As the trail angled sharply from the get go, we had to take a few breaks to peel off some of our layers needed earlier as we were still in the cool morning air laden with humidity. Out of the forested area and as soon as we got exposed to the sun rays, the beams added up to the heat caused by the exertion.

(On our first pit-stop to take a layer off. The view is building and already breath taking.)

A few more hundred meters forward passed the scree, the route became sinuous, not to avoid the steeps, but to be able to find a path through the maze of small rock walls. Here, there aren’t any ropes, fences or barriers and the exposure builds up as the air is thinning. Getting dizzy in such location could be fatal. So, on our beat-the-clock hike, as we needed to be back at the campsite before the last bus departure at 6:30 p.m., we had to strike a healthy balance between taking our time and making good time…

(Only one step away from “failure”, not a hike to make a mistake on too often… I really can’t stress enough, one HAS to be careful here. No mistakes allowed. If you are afraid of heights don’t go! If you don’t know, you will.)

Our water supply was going down as quickly as we were going up, the temperatures just warm enough to peel right down to our t-shirt, the air thin and laden with the smell of an early summer morning while a cool breeze permeated through the fabrics just enough to be pretty much as comfortable as one could be considering the amount of physical work necessary to move at that speed. Every few tens meters, an entirely new realm of views opened up leaving us both even more eager to continue and to go peeking around the following corner. Our spirit of adventure took the best of us and almost gave us wings.

It is not as if the previous day had been an easy little stroll around the camp or reckon walk around the premises. Our muscles were still adjusting from the clash of an abrupt transition from very long driving stints, almost entirely excluding walks, to full throttles up mountain sides. Even perfect preconditioning with the best of foods and keen assiduity toward stretching couldn’t have done much to prevent the natural shock caused to our muscle systems!

(Sylvain taking a very well deserved break as we are feeling the approach to the apex of my hike where as for him this was more or less a bit of a preamble to what was to follow… In the background, Mont Huber reigns at 3368 meters and seems to be in an eternal dance with the clouds.)

Nevertheless, existing in these moments placed beauty back on its silver plater where only the thickness of the silence broken by our heavy breathing and Sylvain’s hiking poles action over the rocks seemed to be keeping us somehow grounded and alert.

The effects of oxygen rarefaction can easily be felt for someone living pretty much at sea level since their birth, as we were reaching the saddle, up above, a few more little breaks and moments to quench our thirst while enjoying the spectacular views were definite mandatory moratoriums.

(On the saddle at 2532 meters between Wiwaxy Peaks (2703m) and Mt. Huber (3368m), taking a breather after climbing for over half a kilometre in height, and feeling on top of the world. This is one of the very rare selfies I have ever taken and thought it would be worth the souvenir shot, especially for my parents and loved ones.)

Feeling the rush of attainment, I almost jog to the saddle where a real break, snacks and more water was on the menu. But first, an official photoshoot was mandatory as the mountain landscape has never been any better in my entire life. In such heights, hypothermia might easily get to you, so staying dry is constantly on one’s radar, especially if one understands that hail or heavy snowfall can come at any time of the year at these elevations. Coupling this kind of weather with high mountain winds and the risks are rising drastically.

(Surreal panoramas and colours were flooding the senses of our minds. In the distance, Lake Oesa, our next official pit-stop.)

In such circumstances, bliss often comes rubbing itself against you providing for extra warmth and seemingly mad giggles while dancing. Maybe someone observing the scene would be tempted to be concerned about nearing someone like this… After all, the distance between madness and ecstatic bliss has fooled more than one.

One lacks superlatives to describe the feelings associated with the place: An overwhelming sentiment rises from within and, like a tidal wave, keeps on growing and growing and growing…
Gratitude abounds for all moments needed that have aligned for one to be there in the first place. How could one not feel blessed to be alive here, now? Natural places hide a natural high one can hardly ever experience without venturing out in the wilderness, without taking a leap into the unknown and expose oneself to its own frailty and strength at the same time.

Our next passage follows the exposed and famous “Huber Ledges Alpine Route” all the way down to Lake Oesa. The seriousness of what is to come for my dear brother Sylvain comes to light when two hikers coming our way, as we are just starting on our way down, stop by for a quick chat and update on what lays ahead of us. Both are wearing a full alpine pack from which a mountaineering helmet dangles freely. They are on their way back after an overnight hike up to Abbott Pass Hut (2926 m/9598”), the second highest permanent structure in Canada, straight on the Continental Divide, on the border of Alberta and British Columbia.

The next four pictures offers a bit of perspective as I take a shot looking up, one looking behind me, the following downward and finally straight toward where we are heading:

(On one side the scree and rock walls rise and rise and, from above, the clouds come tumbling down, trickling in mini waterfalls on that early day. I can hardly imagine as I sit here writing this article how big the torrent must come to on rainy days and during heavy snowmelt!?)

(Here, we see Sylvain, checking on time… Is he going to be able to go all the way up to the famous high altitude hut or not? It will have to be a marathon climb under pressure in radically challenging territory. Behind him, way into the distance, Wiwaxy Peaks. Closer to us, we can easily see the saddle where we had our last break as well as getting a better appreciation of the level of exposure to heights this trail offers on this section of the hike.)

(Waaaaaaay down there, we can see the famous Lake O’Hara and beside it, the little pound, we took pictures from the previous day as we were starting the hike. Do you remember? The fourth picture on the first part of this article, https://steemit.com/travel/@eric-boucher/unveiling-a-summer-of-love-adventures-and-photographic-journeying-in-lake-o-hara-yoho-national-park-part1-2)

(Lake Oesa, far in the distance is sitting on a veritable throne at the base of the five main peaks surrounding it. From this picture, it is easy to see the route we are going to take on our way down. One simply has to follow on the left hand-side of the waterfall and lakes system all the way back to Lake O’Hara. The view could be worse…)

Some of the sections really offer extra beauty often found in the most exposed of areas. Rhetorically speaking, maybe a mix of healthy adrenaline and appreciation for details as well as the natural highs of the heights compounded to send our spirits soaring.

(Behind Sylvain, we can observe a monumentally huge avalanche path where water helped out by gravity carved out, over the course of the millennia, its path of least resistance.)

From time immemorial, only persistence of time seems to be more pervasive, ineluctably levelling what most refer to as peaks of “Eternal Snows”.

Erosion plays a very powerful role in the descent of the mountains and the effects of it are clearly visible as one walks on these trails. As for the previous day, at this height, we encountered the omnipresent green lichen covered stones as seen in the picture below.

A view from above the lakes makes for incredibly colourful shots as the movement of the sun rises refractions through the sediments found in the waters as well as at the bottom of the lake creating surreal paintings through a reality otherwise hardly imaginable.

(The first little lake formed by the creek as it follows its course down away from Lake Oesa a few hundred metres up the hill.)

Of course, this goes for most high mountain lakes where the ever presence of erosion allows for airborne sedimentary particles to fly from their heights all the way to the different bodies of water collecting and carrying them downstream. On this side of the mountains, the rivers will be responsible for carrying the precious sediments all the way to the Pacific Ocean. Depending on the angles at which the sun rays come shinning into the lake, the colours greatly vary and offer a sublime visual masterpiece in successions of breath taking powerful vividness and lucidity.

Positioned to be able to see the reflection of the glaciers and rock walls surrounding Lake Oesa was a perfect opportunity for photography and contemplation. Upon such beauty, you get stunned and it actually takes mental effort to convince oneself to keep moving…

In our case, Sylvain still had a shot at climbing all the way up to Abbott Pass Hut and come back quickly enough to catch our bus ride back down the mountain while travelling at a speed allowing him to stay focussed, alert and safe.

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As the slope to the lake started to increase, the words of our Parks Canada attendant from the previous day as well as the ones uttered by the people tending to the Park Canada Visitors Information Centre came progressively clearer and clearer. From what we were told, the quality of the trails in this area of the Rockies hasn’t been surpassed yet and one has to travel on these paths to become a living witness of that fact. Never have I seen such work anywhere. The considerably large slabs covering the area had been intricately moved in such a way as to form a highly sustainable path where one can step flat footed one foot after another all the way down to the Lake and beyond! It was a total blessing for my right which doesn’t agree too easily with angled terrains and ultimately was going to stop me from going along Sylvain’s dream hike all the way up to Abbott Pass Hut.

Having reach the apex of my hike, a quick snack and water was mandatory. As for Sylvain, I was going to take his backpack for the duration of his epic attempt to go all the way up to the hut and back in a “world record” time. He took the very strict minimum, climbing the very steep category 4 hike, alpine style. We parted with very few but necessary words on emotional terms… To complete his ultimate day, he had to reach the summit and come back alive. For me, with many years of rock climbing in many different conditions and locations under my belt, I clearly knew what was ahead of him and, as much as worries might be one of the most pointless indulgence ever, it lurked in the shadows, while I waited for his return.

Meanwhile and in order to counteract the meaninglessness of the demon at my heels, I thought, grabbing a bigger bite and hanging out by the lake would do me some good. Eating our emotions seems to be a natural comfort in many situations and surrounded by a healthy crew helps even more so. I spotted a family of five who were sitting on a slanted slab facing the lake, I could hear their giggles a solid 200 meters away. So, in terms of healthy times and socialization, those were two very good signs. I approached them and asked if they’d mind some company. Their gentle demeanour and open smiles indicated a heart of the same nature. I was welcomed instantly among the group and, after the usual and natural “Where are you from?” and previous “What’s your name?”, we engaged in eating our foods and fighting off the very bold local chipmunks.

(The cutely famous and infamous chipmunks are constantly on the prowl… BEWARE! One can count oneself lucky they aren’t carnivorous.)

For generations, these little critters have roamed the area where hikers from all over the world come and pretty much invariably feed them. Mind you, it says nothing as to whether feeding them was done intentionally or not… The father and two of his girls were openly feeding two or three of them that were constantly pestering them for more foods. Of course, the arrival of another “giant two legged”, namely me, kept them at bay for a very long minute or two. But of course, the summer season being so short must give this little mammal some serious incentives to be even more efficient in their gathering.

(Two of them on the opportunistic offensive diversion sneaking under and around the slabs eyeing out the loot and ready to plunder.)

At one point, a fearless chipmunk faked a departure after the father had actually been able to feed it straight out of his hand. Presuming the chipmunk on its way, he joyfully and proudly lifted his gaze turning his head toward his wife. His bag of trail mix steadied while hanging off of his right hand as the other hand was just about to dip in, the chipmunk had already done a full high speed 360 and taken a run at it…
Jumping for the bag, the fearless little chipmunk grabbed it with four legs clawed right in and, doggedly determined, was gnawing at the bag to rip it open! It must have taken at least six long powerful tugs from the man to finally dislodge the “beast” from his lunch. Shaking the bag simply wouldn’t have done it. Having proven ourselves strong contenders in the food sovereignty level, the chipmunks receded and gave us a few more minutes of respite giving us just enough time to finish our lunch as the first drip of light rain started…

After the family departure, I decided to go around the lake to be able to position myself in front of what I hoped to be a decent vantage point from which to keep track of Sylvain’s every move. After all, I figure, with the experience I have in mountaineering, if he were to fall or hurt himself, I’d probably be the best person to get to him first and, having had witnessed the event, proceed with proper procedures in order for him to get back down safely and as unharmed as possible.

(I had almost reached the vantage point I was looking for and already had a good view of Sylvain’s monumental progress up this challenging and promisingly high reward hike to the hut.)

(Now adequately positioned to have direct view of the hut and Sylvain, it was time to pray, for drier conditions, send good powerful energies his way, summoning clarity of thought, strength, endurance and wisdom, and keep watch till his return to safer grounds.)

A soft drizzle had turned into a positively soft rain and my prayers were becoming increasingly potent and present. Wet rocks is never good for a climber. Knowing that my brother would be very tired, unaccustomed to the lack of oxygen of high mountain life and to top it all slippery conditions definitely made me uneasy. I couldn’t help myself but to process options of rescue while knowing perfectly that I had to let go of the outcome itself. Now, it was all in his judgement as well as the Great Spirit’s hands.

(The little dot on the right hand-side is Sylvain making good progress, passing every single hikers on his sprint up… Not having a large backpack greatly helped the matter. Light and fast, alpine style was his way and best bet for a once in a lifetime probable shot at this prize.)

During one of Sylvan’s break up the main wall, I took advantage of this opportune moment to make my way farther along the lake to have direct view of the last and most impressive part of this hike while being able to clearly have the hut in direct sight.

(Abbott Pass Hut and, on the right hand-side, a little stick man, Sylvain from my location with a tad of zoom action.)

(The best shot I could take of him while using my zoom. Though I can see 4 moons of Jupiter with my camera that has a 65X magnification on it, this is the best I could manage to get out of this fleeting session. Here, Sylvain is using his phone to take a few timely memorabilia while lays behind him the mountains and gully leading to the world famous Lake Louise.)

From there came what I consider the most treacherous leg of this marathoner’s feat: The time constricted down-climb of the main head wall. A single mistake could be fatale and Mother Nature was surely not making it too easy either… Before parting earlier, we had promised to stay in touch as he was going to be reaching the lower part of the wall on his way back. I told him that I would be waiting for him only if he promised staying in touch with me through intermittent calls out or whistles when he was going to be reaching the bottom end of his adventure.

In a real anticlimax, relieved, exhausted and both extremely happy to see each other in one piece again, we bolted on our way down pretty much right away after the due congratulations and a humongous powerfully heartfelt hug!

Not much talking occurred as we kept close watch over time and, yet, I managed to take a few shots down the way, after all, I still had pretty fresh legs! It was a very strange feeling to find ourselves down here knowing what it was like to be up there looking down to where we were hurrying our way to the bus and the promise of a warm meal, warm showers and, most hopefully, a very very solid sleep later on.

The perspective change is so surreal that it makes it almost impossible for the rational thinking to comprehend the sheer size of the adventure and, for someone who has never experienced something like this, such a phenomena could just as equally be unfathomable as rationality hits a wall of saturation not having had the experience to relate to it.

Across the valley, the clouds were dissipating and open skies welcomed us into the early evening. Shadows got longer, but our frown was definitely up there among the summits, shinning.

Becoming aware that we were going to make it to the rendezvous point, our pace slowed down and tiredness started to emerge over the adrenalin rush of the last few hours. After such highs, it is common to feel a kind of blues kicking us in the chin or nibble at our mind as we were reaching camp about a half hour before departure time.

A quick gathering of our gear in the locker room and there we were, starting to rest, starting to feel the adrenaline leaving our bodies, trickling down as the stiffness and eventually the pains inversely made their emergence. Nevertheless, how could one focus on the pains when such memories are still freshly inhabiting our minds? Even the soars and pains reminded us of this incredible journey of this past 30 hours and helped us relive with every pangs the moments that caused them in the first place. What were we left with? Only smiles and contentment.

Above, quick shot taken as the sun was setting, right after a very well deserved shower back down the mountain in Kicking Horse Campground. The sun was setting and a magnificent celebratory dinner in Banff at one of the very best fusion restaurant I have ever eaten in my life was awaiting us over the course of the next few highly delectable hours. Tomorrow was going to be another one of those days: “Iceline Trail”, a magnificent hike of almost 21 km, with an elevation gain of over 710 meters following the well featured Daly Glacier all the way to the Little Yoho River.

Well, I hope you have enjoyed the sharing of the best hike of my life and deeply wish for you to be able to go out and venture on high mountain passes among glaciers, scree, moraine, vivid blue lakes, streams and rivers, experience the ratification of oxygen and become another one of us weathered elements easily wearing a smile.

All for one and one for all! Namaste :)