Unveiling a Summer of Love, Adventures and Photographic Journeying… …In Lake O’Hara, Yoho National Park (Part1/2)

Unveiling a Summer of Love, Adventures and Photographic Journeying…

…In Lake O’Hara, Yoho National Park (Part1/2)

(Story and photography by Eric Boucher, 2016.)

A pack of wolf had taken residency in one of the campground and had forced hundreds of campers to relocate farther up north…

Countless blessings in disguise, Sylvain and I managed to sleep in Lake Louise Campground, for 2 nights, but we eventually had to move somewhere else for a while. Thinking that most people would find their way up north in the most commonly and worldly known campgrounds within Banff and Jasper, I brought up the idea of going to Yoho National Park, just east from Banff, near the little tightly-knit village of Field, pop. around 200, where a few less renown campgrounds are usually accessible and not too crowded.

First thing in the morning, and within minutes, without a proper breakfast filling our hungry bellies yet, we were on our way and ended up getting a wonderful site for four consecutive days in an almost idyllic location. Considering the fact that the Kicking Horse Campground lays only a few hundred meters from the Trans-Canada Highway our location on the actually campground was stunning: The rushing waters of the Yoho River will, eventually, keep us sleeping like babies and, combined with the thick tree foliage, brought the noise levels to a minimum while providing for fresh air, maximum levels of oxygenation and shade. While having no campers behind us or on our sides, the most positive aspect of it was the view that stole the show for us every single day, and night, for which we actually were able to enjoy the site for…

(Mt. Stephen, just shy of 3200 meters, is a spectacle of its own as the sunrise moves from one side of the mountain, around the back of it and to the other side during the course of the day.)

Having left Lake Louise around 7:30 a.m., we were already finishing breakfast around 10:40 a.m., after having had the tent set up, and something popped into my mind: “Hey, Sylvain.!? On our way here, just up the hill from us, there’s a sign on the side of the road that says “LAKE O’HARA?”, do you know anything about this place?” I figured I just had to ask since he had came to the Rockies quite a few times too and had the chance of doing more than his fair amount of research in relation to the “Rockies”… Like lightning, he jokingly glares at me: “Eric, do you remember when we were 13 and first met? On my math binder, I had a Scotch-Taped picture on the cover…” I have to admit that I had no remembrance whatsoever of it at first and simply shrugged.

Looking at me unimpressively and with deep inquiring eyes he started describing the picture and underlining the fact that THIS was Lake O’Hara the place that fascinated his imagination of the Rockies and fed the fuel of his desires for these monuments equally taking place as sparks and lure to the imagination and love for his heart.

As his soul was speaking and seemingly reawakening my memories from 32 years ago, the images came back as a strike of a thought came rushing into my mind. Barging in I asked him whether or not he’d be interested in going to the Park Canada office in Field, only 3-4 minutes away, to go inquire about the possible availability to go camp out there. Proceeding to tell me with an obvious deeply felt disappointment, if not despair, that last April all the reservations for the place had went in less than 15 minutes for the entire course of the season. He tried to convince me that it was impossible for us to get there this year. Again, I interrupted him as synchronicity was unceasingly knocking at the door of my perceptions and said:

“Look, Sylvain, with the thunder storms and downpours that came through the area over the past 24 hours, maybe some campers or people who have made reservations cancelled?!? What do you say we go and inquire? The worse we can get is a no…”

No less than 30 minutes later we were at the office. To make a long story short, within an hour, we were heading back to camp to go pack ourselves up as quickly as we could to miraculously go camp, for one night only, on top of what would have been the world for Sylvain and, for me, unknowingly so the same within a day.

(A view from when I walked out of the bus as there are only 2 options if one wants to go camp up there: The bus or a long hike and, on that day, a very high chance of encountering an unwelcoming bear in two different locations up the 11km approach to the first campsites, only accessible through reservations.

For the return back down the hill, you still can walk, if the energy and physical stamina still allows you to do so, or you can potentially use the service of the bus, if there’s still some spots available and you have the cash to pay for the transportation…)

At 3:30 p.m., we are on our way up inside the large school bus making the drive up and down quite regularly at scheduled times during the day. Sylvain and I, being the only riders for the trip up the hill reached our final destination at around 4 p.m., had the mandatory introduction to the facilities, offered by one very kind employee of Parks Canada who had the generosity of pointing out what “needed” to be experienced if we only had one day in the area. We quickly learned our ways around, dropped some gear in the caches reserved for us hikers/campers and we eagerly started on our way up the first hike of this short soul-filling 24 hours trip. As a note, the campsite accepts only a maximum of 3 nights reservations. So, we were already counting our blessings as we had the chance of being there for one highly unexpected night. We’re still counting…

Within 5 minutes, we’re both in awe at the sights of the magnificence before our eyes.

(A little scenic trail was a healthy alternative to the gavel road giving you access to Lake O’Hara a bit further up. The pond formed by the affluent coming from the main lake is rather beautiful already…)

A thick serenity reigns here and embraces the quasi-silence of the hills.

(A highly restricted area, Lake O’Hara lays at 2115 meter above sea level and is a jewel at the heart of the Canadian Rockies as seen here on its eastern flank.)

(Above, a well needed pit-stop for both of us to take in the view. Here, we can see the southern aspect. The area is also renown for its cabins where, apparently, our present Prime Minister Trudeau’s family has had the opportunity to spend multiple summer vacations when he was a child. Nowadays, one can rent one of these little cabins as seen in the background for the modicum sum of $500.00/night with a minimum of 2 nights stay available.)

Another two minutes goes by as we are trekking our way up to our first longingly awaited destination and dream view Lake O’Hara.

(As you can see, it took me 3 shots to be able to cover 180 degrees of this monumental panorama. Here, the northeast view. Deep down and to the very bottom left of it you would find the campground where we are staying for the night.)

We solemnly take a few minutes to take in the view, but as the sun is already on its way down, it is important for us to keep going as we have a decent hike ahead of us: Destination Lake McArthur via the Low Level Circuit on the way in and the High Level Circuit on the way back (8 km).

Multiple views offer themselves to the avid photographer but racing with sun brings about delicate points of balance considering that one could easily spend days on each trails as the beauty of the place as more to do with the sublime than anything else.

(A little creek flowing through the larch forest was brightened by the sun rays angling themselves through the branches from above the mountain tops beyond our sight.)

The first 800 meters of this hike are a bit gruelling at high speed… Luckily, the vistas seem to be calling for necessary photo breaks here and there and, of course, the invigorating scenery was rather inviting, softly calling us to go on.

(A quick detour to Mary Lake on the way up was really worthwhile.)

(The big old granitic moraine deposits made us feel like dwarves as we had to use what seemed like “giants steps” to go from one slab to another walking a few more steps then stretching ourselves over another giant step.)

From the get go, this hike had a certain magic to it. The soft and slowly descending light, the absence of crowd or noise of traffic or electronics, the trees if not the whole land seemed to have had a sustained tonal presence, the kind of presence one can only experience in areas of this planet where the land is still alive and well. One could fairly say breathing.

(A view of Lake O’Hara from one of the first clearings passed the larch forest.)

Passed the serenity of the larch forest, the rock falls that covered most of the area from here offered great diversity of colours and textures. Rocks of all sizes having been crushed and tossed peppered the areas all the way along the trail to Lake McArthur. A particularly enchanting green-grey hue was omnipresent and magic might have very well been an understatement for most.

(Reaching higher elevations of the hike allowed us to have a direct gaze at the upper wall on the side of one mountain…)

A tree stump, an aged remnant of a life long-lost, attracted my attention as it was filled of vibrancy.

Finding ourselves on the high meadows, the shadows started to get stretched fair a ways and a few extra perks to being up here appeared, as it is often the case when water pools in such areas. We weren’t deceived.

The windless location and timing couldn’t have been any better and offered placid ponds and streams, colours and reflections galore.

Toward the end of the little lake, a rather unusual sight attracted my attention and took this picture of a plant I had never had the chance of witnessing before and might have tickled if not entirely inspired the brain of the famous film maker Philip Kaufman who created to my knowledge the second version of the thriller/horror movie “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” in 1978, starring Donald Sutherland, Jeff Goldblum & Leonard Nimoy, a.k.a. Spock!? Not really and understandably being in the frame of mind or settings of the movie, it didn’t affect me. But, as I even dared approaching them without trembling, I wouldn’t have touched it. Just kidding! It actually looked like felt, very soft and smooth, and quite an attractive silhouette really.

(Does anyone know the this plant? The cocoon is was about 4-5 cm in height.)

A few more steps upward and we were impatiently reaching what we believed to be the end of our hike upward… Apparently, we still had to go up a bit further.

(Sylvain contemplating the sun’s last reflection upon one of mountain’s face across the valley.)

We quickly arrived in an area filled in a jumbled assortment of rocks, surreal! We could have been on another planet.

Strewn about were boulders of all sizes and shapes resting about like mountain dolmen reminiscent of the ineluctable crushing passage of glaciers over eons.

Along the winding trail, we came across this 2 meter rock that seemed to have had faced all weathers for millennia and the story told by both the lichen on it as well as its neighbours spoke of time immemorial.

It wasn’t too long before something came shouting to my attention. In grizzly bear country which bear creatures of all kinds roaming the area, one of whom I wouldn’t necessarily be comfortable coming across anywhere is the wolverine and this location was a perfect environment for it too. The animal literally stopped me on my track and, with my sight arrowed on this coming animal unaware of our presence yet, I stalled like a statue while listened intently trying to hear the whereabouts and how far was my “Brother”.

It was definitely coming toward us. It took a very long 10 seconds before I could identify it. In the bottle-neck we timely found ourselves in, it would have had to come across us had it kept going on its course… The sun’s angle made its fur looking darker as its shadowy side was meandering toward me. Time elapsed very very slowly for a while… When I was finally able to identify it positively it happened to be the biggest marmot I had ever seen, a species called the “hoary marmot”, that can reach over 80 cm in length. This one was by far the biggest I’ve had ever seen and definitely along the tail end of the maximum range in length. My lungs eased up automatically as I sighed deep relief.

(The hoary marmot, a friendly curious dweller of the tree line often found in the Canadian Rockies.)

Leaving our amicable and curiously voracious friend the marmot with whom we must have hung out for a good four to five minutes watching it foraging about the boulders, we now had to decided whether to go down and around the loop of Low Level Circuit to come back via the Upper Level Circuit trail, or the other way around or simply take one and come back on the same route. The decision making was going to be as easy as pie.

It happened as we encountered two more hikers on their way back from the glory of their encounter with Lake McArthur: An elderly woman, with a very slow pace and an obvious limp, accompanied by her husband who was at this moment descending from the Upper Level Circuit. Apparently, she told us, the Low Level Circuit trail was offering an easier approach for her legs and she had decided to take that one while her husband, still a few hundred meters away was on his way making progress among the ledges and high steps of the Upper Level Circuit trail coming to reconnect with her.

A quick thank you, words of encouragements, a healthy exchange of open peaceful smiles and we decided to go all the way around using the lower trail first to come back later on via the Upper Level Circuit.

(Our last look behind us before going any further on our loop around the circuit. The trail direction chosen might just be smooth enough for my right injured knee to accompany Sylvain on some more highly memorable hiking the day after. From what I have seen so far, I wouldn’t want to miss that for anything in the world. So, as says the famous adage filled of wisdom “Safety first!” and we went around the Low Level Circuit on the way to the lake.)

(Sylvain “almost” there… In the background, an old hanging glacier is suspended in a quasi-timeless position. The lake can’t be that far anymore…)

What felt like an interminable last stretch to the lake view after much anticipated little rolling hills culminated in a wide expanse of brilliant azure, stunningly taking for both of us.

##Facing it made me feel as if I was diving in the sky, an almost dizzying allure was moving me inside and my eyes were maybe even playing games with my mind or was it the other way around? ##

Like a cathedral surrounding the lake, the mountains covering three-quarters of the circumference rose almost like in an eternal prayer as a veneration to the lake itself.

Fleeting moments of bliss… Let it be, let it go… The sun’s relentless descent was calling us back to camp. Content, yet softly pressed by time, we reluctantly resumed our walk, this time, continuing on the aptly named Upper Level Circuit. In some areas, the lichens and mosses are thinly covering the orange, grey, black and beige granite as we walk along the well exposed rocky trail, half of the time denuded of its vegetation otherwise gravelly and dusty. We were surrounded by small shrubs clinging poignantly to the rigours of an arduous life up in the alpine, 2 km off the ocean level, clinging to slabs of granite running deep and widely under their intermingled root systems. Boulders, like old sages were showing off their persistence over the edge of time everywhere around us.

(Where the trails meet at the apex of today’s hike, a moment of silence while the sunset graced us of its last maximal output of colours and warmth.)

Almost standing two meters tall, a cairn had been erected, I would supposed as the years go by, as a major and important marker where both Sylvain and I out of the blue ended up reverently adding up our own stone to the pile. In the distance, like a celestial cook dropping well needed pinches of water on a very parched land, a few showers could be observed sprinkling a few different mountain sides thus offering an inimitable light during this well renown Golden Hour.

(New ravines, mountain tops, rock walls and gullies kept on appearing every few meters. To every minute, a new landscape, and totally new “emotionscapes” floating on an ocean of awe.)

From there, it was all the way down. We finally reached the upper wall and had the opportunity to enjoy first hand the exposure to heights.

Exhilarating, impressive and sometimes breathtaking, the following one thousand steps would not safely be done without awareness of the risks involved.

In the picture down below, you can see the bottom part of the trail as it weaves its way along the bottom line of the picturesque wall. Up here, we are in the land of the free and there aren’t any fences or barriers, other than the natural or self-imposed willful ones.

The Thanatos may have a strong grip on some… In such state of exposure, some might find the calling strong and omnipresent but beauty calls louder and tends to keep one awake enough to keep on walking in the midst of its charms and suave musicality of colours, sounds and immensity hard to convey to anyone who wouldn’t have had the occasion of experiencing such lands.

(At the bottom of the main wall, on the right-hand side, you can observe the “Upper Level Circuit” trail. It really deserves its name and upswells from your depths such natural highs.)

(Here, Sylvain was standing right next to the first tree you see on top of the main wall, straight to the right-hand side, as taken in the previous picture where the same tree is in the foreground, brings a bit of a sense of the wall’s stature and a perspective of the immensity of the place.)

Maneuvering our way down the steeps wasn’t too bad as the trail has been used and set for safety in spite of the exposure, seasonal changes and natural hazards.

I’ve always loved being humbled by nature in all its forms and being able to share such sentiments. Doing so along side Sylvain brought to our souls countless blessings of gratitude and complicity.

Experiencing the realities of visions he had entertained, that had been travelling about the seven seas of his synapses for over thirty years, stirred like a 100-year old soup inside his mind was a real dream come true for him and his bliss was palpable as it ever so easily spilled over into mine.

(Far in the distance, dead centre on this picture, just to the bottom left of the main “tall” spruce and on the right-hand side of the rocky ledge, a speck rises where you can see a tiny little Sylvain approaching the high-steps, probably the main crux of this decent. In such cases, having a bit of rock climbing or tree climbing experience can’t hurt.)

(Just about to step down from his heights, it was time for one last look out in the depths of the present moment.)

The return to the bottom of the mountain and back to camp went roundly. Both of our injured bodies didn’t seem much affected by the day’s hike and in itself it was a VERY good sign for both of us who were contemplating the ridges of the following day as we were moving along the last few moments along the open alpine meadows, looking out in the distance, right across Lake O’Hara, where stood tomorrows challenges and blisses of a life time for both of us.

Encountering a hiking club from Quebec who had had the chance of being pick during the draw that decides who has the right to be in the Elizabeth Parker Hut, the backcountry hut available only through this draw by the Alpine Club of Canada, we had a bit of a visit inside underlining here and there some essentials while we mutually shared a few of today’s stories.

A story that still sticks to my mind after all these months, a young girl about 12 years old was outside with a poised and very strong looking young man, probably his mid-twenties. We started sharing and the discussion quickly went onto the subject of the value of one’s experience on the seasons of life’s memory. After I had asked the girl how she felt about being there in this majestic protected area, she was seemingly taking lightheartedly her experience in Lake O’Hara as just another one of her experience in life. Right away, the feeling that came to me was that it was not “that” special for her. Yet, she kept silent and listened carefully as I proceeded. I don’t know… Maybe because she simply wanted to be polite with the obvious eagerness I was launching about the story with or maybe because of her friend’s constant nodding of approval earlier. Either way, something might have prompted her attention in relation to the sharing from that moment on and I thought it was important for me to share with her a bit of multigenerational perspective.

As the humble young man was profusely smiling and kept on nodding in deeply felt approval, I was telling her how, by the time she would get as old as her older friend standing beside her, the experience she was having during her time out here in Lake O’Hara would be a bit like a valuable dream, one of those memories she’d relish going back to.

By the time she would get as old as I am, she would come back to this memory of her time here now with great delight, like seeing again after too long a time a deeply beloved old friend, as it might have found its place among the compendium of all her memories as one of the most important time of her life: A real diamond among all of her life’s memories to which she would hang on to, not more for its visions of beauty than for the feeling that keeps on musing the trigger of a time where happiness was not only a possibility, but a reality.

Can you still remember these times?

The end of the day came rushing toward us as quickly as the levels of tiredness crept all the up to our eyes. As much as we tried, a quick dinner shared along the sides of many other hikers from the world over that had came to congregate at the fire pit lasted much longer than anticipated but was riddled of impassioned exchanges.

The common experience of bliss shared among us was thickened with laughter, sharing of foods and drinks, dreams, stories and souls.

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Well, this is it for another epic Eric post! I wish I have been able to convey right into you a desire to go out there, experience it for yourself most hopefully along friends and cherished beloveds.

The second half of this story will still take place among the peaks surrounding Lake O’Hara and portrays, for its beauty as for the grandeur of the feelings and soul stirrings it brought my way, the most amazing hike of my life! Stay tuned.

With love, in the spirit of adventure and through photographic journeys…

All for one and one for all!

Namaste :)