MOUNT ROBSON PROVINCIAL PARK, "BERG LAKE TRAIL", BRITISH COLUMBIA.

From the “Unveiling of a Summer of Love, Adventures and Photographic Journeys (Part 10A)

Berg Lake Trail, a mythic hike in itself...

The name alone sent many of my friends for a loop over the last few decades and, as I was to discover on today’s trip, it was soon to be living in my memory in a similar fashion.

Already celebrating its century old anniversary in 2013, Mount Robson, at 3954 meters is the monarch of the Canadian Rockies and one of Canada’s most iconic mountains taking place among UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1990. It is the Eiger of the Americas and is an integral part of the second oldest park in British Columbia.

As the photographs attests, the “Mountain of the Spiral Road, as the local first nation language named the famous peak, inspires both awe and respect. Berg Lake Trail is a legendary backcountry hiking experience more than 23 km long with an elevation gain of nearly 800 meters, if one is to stop at the lake. From there, multiple options for trails exists giving a vast array of possibilities for the advanced hikers as well as for the avid mountaineers.

Two kilometres from the Visitor Info Centre, the trailhead starts along the Robson River where we had parked for our overnighter. The previous, we had dealt with the park’s mandatory requirements including a payments for the registration fees, a thorough orientation given by one of the park staff and a short orientation video underlining the ethics of backcountry hiking in this region as well as its inherent dangers. The magmatic excitement could hardly be contained and the restlessness of deep anticipation for this hike was finally reaching its culmination.

We geared up rather quickly and were already on our hike at 7:30 a.m., way too much energy for us to sleep any longer than we already had. As we were taking our first few steps, we came across a couple of young men preparing their backpacks for an attempt to summit the the peak on the following early morning, if the weather was to hold. The forecasts were apparently just fantastic. We found them packing what must have been backpacks weighing at least 80 pounds each! Complete with technical ice climbing gear, thin climbing mountaineering synthetic ropes, ice axes, crampons, helmets and the necessary ice tools readily available on each side of their packs: Ice screws, ice pegs, slings and the usual climber’s attire, a load of carabiners of all sizes and shapes. Not to mention the food, water, tent and complete necessary winter clothing backup. At such heights, winter like a tiger can pounce on your back within minutes any time of the year and, where positions can often be precarious, time is of the essence… We wished them good luck as we walked passed them and steadily made quick progress all the way up to the first plateau and Kinney Lake. The very wide trail allowed us good chatting time and a healthy warm up for the seriousness of the day still ahead of us…

Already, the path was leading us through cedars, hemlock, birch, lodgepole pine and Douglas fir while the day’s heat allowed for the dew to melt, steam to a rise. From there, an extra layer found its way into our backpacks. Walking counter-current to the Robson River’s frenetic course, I had the familiar feeling of hiking up a trail on the west coast. At first, the forest had so much similarities to the one at home… As we moved on up, the vegetation progressively changed and a few very momentous water breaks here and there gave us the occasion to contemplate the river which lead us to its source, all the way up to Kinney Lake, 4.5 km farther.

The mirror-like surface of the lake betrayed the inner feelings of excitement upwelling in my soul. Four years earlier, I had seen this part of the hike and couldn't wait to see what was coming next and around the other end of the lake. Nearing the first real break, we came across a fairly new and impressive rockfall. To across it, we had to walk on a well constructed wooden bridge and, from there, were on our way to a quick snack at a picnic table along the lakeshore shelter regaining some well needed energies.

Passed the first official campground where many were still in their pyjamas, we hike up and down a series of undulating rocky and sometimes exposed areas where cliffs descended abruptly all the way down to the lake. For some reasons, the forest here had a very light and magical aura. Maybe it was the early morning light and mist rising through he foliage of mixed vegetation bring an elevated sense of lightness, but the inner vibrations had an uplifting effect on me.

Reaching the very end of this section, a short metallic bridge followed by a little island in the middle of a swift river and another similar bridge gave way to a wide open valley floor. As we walked toward the mountain side across from where we had poked out of the forest, we contemplated the splendour of this vast and wide-open valley. Though the heat wasn’t quite searing, the geological circumstances found here surely gave a clear indication of its potential in these terms!

A quick trek across and we were on our way to a second stage of the hike. This very steep section was going to brings us all the way up to lunchtime and the beginning of the famous “Valley of a Thousand Falls”. Upon arriving at the Ranger’s Cabin, I realized the ranger himself was a musician who had came to Haida Gwaii a while ago for whom I had done the sound during his performance with his band. We needed to have a quick chat with him to find out whether or not we could stay one more night. Unfortunately, every campsites still had their reservations and we were only going to be able to stay on our site for a single night.

Sylvain and I, though a bit disappointed, crossed over the rapids of Robson River on a well renown suspension bridge and arrived immediately at the second campground, Whitehorn Campground, halfway up to our original destination for the day… The dark chocolate trail mix found its way down our ravenous digestive systems rather easily. Peeling off the only two layers I had on my back and sticking to a pair of pants allowed me to cool off while gorging on more goodies and quenching our thirst. A few other hikers had arrived and were talking about their experience up and down the trail. For them all, memorable memories that inspired us to leave quickly after lunch. From the protection of this small shelter, we could discern a fairly wide valley and, in the distance, multiple cliffs from which the valley took its name.

We followed the banks of a swift river running its way through the rocks. The shade and the mist kept us humidified and cool, for the moment. It was well worth it as the sun was starting to poke out of the clouds kicking up the temperatures and the prospect of what I believed to be another gruelling climb worth staying as cool as possible for as long as we could possibly manage. Stopping to marvel at the gigantic walls across the valley, we could so easily imagine the thousand waterfalls trickling, descending and spewing in cascades down toward the valley floor drawing their respective paths along the giant rock faces. The magic was almost palpable and quite easily imaginable as the work of ages of geological memories had left their tracks.

After a quick walk, we reached another bridge. This one made out of steel and some wood proved much sturdier, longer, and ready to face much harsher conditions. A continuous mist flowed relentlessly over its railings. I could only take shots from a distance before starting what we then assumed to be the last long climb up to our final destination, Berg Lake Campground.

A series of steep switchbacks started us up the dry rocky path. Unknown to me then, the very top of the mountain seen well up above Sylvain on the following picture is actually Mount Robson, soaring hundreds of meters above us.

(Exposed to rockfall area, one doesn’t linger to long in the face of such dangers and the cool shade of the tree covered trail appealed to our senses very quickly.)

The altitude gain slowly crept in while the torrent of the river increased its pounding. Its path was definitely steeper than ours. Two major waterfalls were encountered along this part of the trail, “White Falls”, from which all that mist was coming from earlier, and “Falls of the Pool”.

From here, the deciduous trees quickly gave way to evergreen ever shrinking as we reached higher elevation. The mounting presence of the almighty “Emperor’s Falls” resounding roar accompanied us all the way up to the last plateau before reaching the long valley floor where lays Berg Lake.

Upon arriving on the edge of this view point seen on the above picture, I thought I’d be looking right down to the very bottom of the cliff to see a little river flowing its way toward the waterfalls encountered earlier. But no! There were only trees visible from up here, yet I could hear the tumult of a river flowing by toward us from the waterfall above… If one is to look carefully at the picture above, you’ll see on the right hand-side of the photograph, on the very top of the bottom right wall, a small white river flowing its way down along the forehead of its face! Way up on top of it all lays the shoulder of the Emperor’s face, the world famous north face of Mount Robson.

From here, a sinuous up an down trail led us to a series of stairs and steep switchbacks bringing us near the edge of Emperor’s Falls. We thought we didn’t have time to go sightseeing and resumed our pace quickly. Within minutes, we arrived on the last plateau. The high valley laying beyond our eyes opened on a little river flowing from the lake as if coming from a delta. Small evergreens lightly covered both sides of the river banks and, beyond that point, a world of rocks, stones of all shapes and colours, glacier-fed lakes and streams, and some of the most rugged mountains of the North American continent rose to kiss the skies.

Along the trail, large shale plates were place horizontally creating a flat-footed and easy path to walk on. To our left, continuous walls breaking into rockfalls provided for a quasi-limitless amount of thick and thin, wide and colourful plates of stones. To our right, the face of Mount Robson and a glimpse of the very first glacier quickly appeared, “Mist Glacier”.

Knowing that the camp sites open for people like Sylvain and I tenting were available on a first-come first-serve basis, I decided to accelerate the pace, thinking that we were just about to arrive at the camp… I thought that if I was to arrive first, I would have time to find the best possible campsite for us to camp, and rest, overnight. Though the oxygen was much rarer than at sea level where I’ve been living most of my life, the much flatter grounds coupled with perfect temperature offered the best opportunity for a very fast paced hike along the lake and all the way into camp.

The soft rain that had peppered us here and there over the previous few hours kept us not too hot not too cool. Perfect conditions to push the envelop. Crossing the delta of Mt. Hargreaves and its glacier fed streams saw us and a trolley of people crossing simple yet well reenforced sturdy narrow bridges. The rushing waters bringing freshness and delight to all senses was accompanied by a few different small songbirds, a handful of the some 180 different species found in the park.

Past the bridges, I kept on bolting along Berg Lake while glancing often at the immensity of the Emperor’s face and “Berg Glacier” flowing all the way down to its namesake lake. The intermittent soft showers receded for a little while and the summit poked through winking at us from its height of nearly 4 km.

The high alpine flora was delectable as the following photo presents an exquisite specimen of so-called “Indian Paintbrush” bright in red-orange and light-green turning to yellow, an echinacea in full splendour and an unknown delicate beautiful five-petalled white flower that were growing in a small cluster near fireweed on the banks of the lake. Out of the blue, a solid hour after I kept on expecting the next corner to be the location of our campsite, I started hearing voices… Luckily not coming from my head! It was a group of youth I quickly came to find out who were camping on this side of Berg Lake Campsite. They had made reservations well ahead of time for their group of almost 30 teenagers and chaperons and all camped around the main cooking hut.

Somehow, my instinct were telling me to keep going farther and found ourselves a very decent campsite, mostly away from the crowd of rambunctious high schoolers, about 200 steps across the river flowing down from “Toboggan Falls” and fairly close to the second set of food and gear lockers, an almost mandatory addition in grizzly country.

From here, the pause in the rain allowed us to set up the tent and we both collapsed for a very well deserved lunch around 1 p.m. Not much talking while we were both greatly enjoying our improvised bench precariously sitting on a horizontal position atop two cairn-like mounds of rocks. Like two ogres, everything falling under the paws went straight down the hatch! A little breeze kept the mosquitoes away and we slowly regained our composure, though our legs seemed to have more to do with logs than gymnasts’ or yogis’ strong yet limbered legs.

Our belly as full as can be seemed to have brought us into a sort of euphoria and some kind of insanity came over us… Sylvain looked at me and nonchalantly launched my way a “Do you feel like going up to the ridge to go see the sunset?” We could almost see the thoughts bouncing back and forth between us like a pinball accelerating its way between the flippers’ pads of the machine before sinking into its goal. As if we hadn’t had enough of our daily dose of walking, it took only a few seconds and, around 2 p.m., under a soft drizzle, we were both frenetically stuffing small provisions, and we were on our way up Toboggan Falls, direction: “The Cave”…

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Well, this is it for this first half of the day, as in our second half, a magnificent waterfall, the mysterious cave and a section of giant boulders in the alpine will be welcoming us to the alpine sunset over an extremely lush photographic journey. Stay tuned for the second part of our amazing day’s adventures and, till we share again, keep your smile, take good care, and thrive on!

Namaste :)