Backpacking the Sawback Trail Part 3

The last and final post in my 3-part series on backpacking the Sawback Trail. If you missed it, read part 1 and part 2 first!

Day 4

Distance hiked: 16.5 kms
Elevation gained/lost:700m/400m
Camped at: Baker Lake Sk11

We had not planned a rest day in the entire trip, and after the previous day’s long climb, day 4 felt like a serious struggle. We would first climb 250m, then descend 400m, then climb 450m again till our campsite at Baker Lake. Cumulatively, this would be the day with the most elevation gain.

The morning started with the roar of helicopters flying over us as we ate breakfast. Then, we met the first people since starting the trip – a maintenance crew of 2. They were not very chatty so we packed up and got on our way.

The first climb up to Pulsatilla Pass was pretty miserable with rain that steadily grew colder and colder until it turned into hail at the very top. Luckily, this stopped right after we crossed over. Once again, there was in front of us, beautiful meadows, an unnamed lake and mountains surrounding us on all sides. We thought about taking a snack break, but decided to stop further along.

This was fortunate, as not more than half an hour later, I heard Felix call out, “Bear!”

I grabbed my bear spray, walked closer to Felix and looked in the direction of his gaze: 50 meters or so away, there was one very large, dark coloured bear. And right next to it, half-hidden by the bushes, there was a lighter coloured, smaller animal. My uneducated guess? It was a grizzly cub.

All of a sudden, the larger bear started screaming. We couldn’t tell whether it was to keep us at bay, or to warn its cub. But both started moving away and downhill from us. This was good. We slowly continued walking up the trail. Then we saw a third bear jump into the unnamed lake! We were surrounded!

With the immediate danger – the first adult and cub – at a distance, we tried to see where the third bear was going. We kept walking, and after turning a corner (with much shouting and care), we saw the bear a fair distance away but on the damn trail. I was flummoxed. I didn’t want to go any closer (to try to scare it away) but I also didn’t love the idea of waiting for it to budge; there were still 2 bears in the vicinity and I didn’t want them to feel overly comfortable with our presence.

Luckily, the situation resolved itself. Within a few minutes, the bear left the trail and climbed up a nearby mountain. We walked on, going off the trail for a bit, to give the bear a very wide berth.

A solid half hour later, I could finally breathe again, and we took that long overdue snack break.

The events of the day do not end here. At the bottom of the long stretch of downhill, we reached Wildflower Creek camp with a fair bit of rain near the end. We decided it was time for lunch. But we were already wet and cold and the rain did not look like it was going to let up. So we found the driest spot between a clump of trees, tied our tent fly to the trunks, and hunkered down to grab a bite and wait it out.

It was fortunate that we thought to set up that makeshift shelter because it soon turned into a downpour. The fabric began sagging under the weight of the accumulated rain water and minute pinpricks started to make themselves known. We finished lunch and all I could think of was what if the rain does not stop? We contemplated setting up camp there.

But stop it did, and with only 6 kms left till Baker Lake, we were determined to get there and wrap up this exceedingly long and eventful day. This was the second stretch of uphill that day, and those 6 kms felt never ending. The “good” weather lasted long enough for us to set up the tent, and finish up with dinner. And then, we as got ready for bed, the day played its last card – hail.

At 2200m, Baker Lake would be the highest campsite yet. Fortunately, we had 2 nights there, so we did not need to tear down camp the next day. This was also already part of the popular Skoki loop, so we had plenty of company there both nights.

Day 5

Distance hiked: 18.5 kms
Elevation gained/lost: 550m/550m
Camped at: Baker Lake Sk11

The day started on a frosty note: it had rained/hailed on and off all night and we woke up to everything covered in a thin layer of white. But the sun peeking out from behind some heretofore hidden mountains and slowly melting the frost off the trees, took the edge off the fairly chilly morning.

Day 5 was our lightest yet. That is to say, we set out with a single pack with only the items necessary for a day hike. The plan was to make our way to the Skoki Lodge, up Skoki Mountain, and then return to camp via Packer’s Pass. Being able to leave our tent as is was a welcome change.

At Skoki Lodge, we poked around for a bit, reading the visitors’ book from the 1940’s, and only made it halfway up to Skoki mountain. Even though it’s classified as an easy scramble, I’m not the most comfortable with exposure, which makes the going pretty slow. The day was also a little overcast and I was positively terrified at the thought of potentially having to scramble downhill, in a rush, in the rain, with fingers numb and freezing off in the cold. We got some pretty good views and decided we’d leave the peak for a longer, sunnier day.

For our way back to camp, we chose a slightly longer route, via Packer’s Pass. It took us through a beautiful meadow and past 2 glacier lakes: Myosotis and Zigadenus. These are the eponymous Skoki lakes. The sun came out for a bit, so we took a Vitamin D break on Myosotis’ shore, and Felix briefly toyed with the idea of taking a quick dip. But he’d left his towel at camp, and the sun wasn’t strong enough to fully dry in.

Next up was the brilliantly blue Zigadenus lake, its lakeshore lined with golden larches. Even without direct sun rays hitting the water, the interplay of turquoise and golden against the rocky amphitheatre of Ptarmigan and Pika peaks was a sight to behold. On the last stretch up to Packer’s Pass, I’d pause to turn around every few steps, just to absorb the intensity of those colours. Until finally, it was out of sight.

On the other side of Packer’s Pass, a glorious, sweeping panorama of Redoubt mountain, Redoubt and Ptarmigan lakes, and possibly even Mt Temple far off in the distance, awaited us. The sun was still out. We took in the view for a bit.

Turns out my fear of being caught in the rain atop Skoki mountain had been unfounded. We hiked back to camp, and for one last time, scarfed down our dinner before rushing into the warmth of our down sleeping bags. That night, shortly after dark, I heard a sound I hadn’t heard before in the wild: the long howls of a pack of wolves somewhere far away.

Day 6

Distance hiked: 16 kms
Elevation gained/lost: 150m/650m
Camped at: Nowhere 🙂

The last day of the trip! We woke up to frost everywhere again, and completely overcast skies. It felt like we were inside a cloud.

Sick of the cold rain, clouds and socks that never fully dried, we didn’t even bother with breakfast, just packed up and got going. The drizzle that greeted us in the morning, gave way to snow and wind, and the only way to stay warm was to keep moving. I knew that a warming shelter called the Halfway Hut was coming up, and it would be the perfect moment to stop for a bit.

We made quick work of the 6 kms and were at the shelter in no time. We got some coffee and oatmeal going, and chatted with other groups who also made a stop there; some were on their way down, and some were going up. The snowfall slowly got worse and worse, until at one point it was nearly a blizzard. Huge fluffy flakes pelted the ground while we sat inside, in the warmth of the company of fellow hikers. I’ve never been more grateful for a historic monument before.

Luckily, the storm didn’t last very long. Just as suddenly as it had started, the snowing eased. We took that opportunity to step out of the warm confines of the hut and finish the rest of the hike. We still had 7 kms to go!

The rest of the way was uneventful. We got into the trees, the light snow gave way to a drizzle, we passed some day hikers, and were eventually, unceremoniously dumped onto the naked slopes of the Lake Louise ski resort. And with that, the trip was over. We had a few kilometres left to go till the car, but signs of urban life were everywhere: ski lifts, a construction site, park ranger trucks, fences and resort boundaries, gravel roads, until finally we hit pavement and the parking lot.

We were lucky that the weather had saved the worst for the last. Some groups told us that they had had to cut their trip short, or convert their overnight to a day hike. We got a lot of damp and cold, but we also got intervals of sunshine that magically changed the mood around.

Perhaps because of the uncertainty of the weather, and partly because we were not mentally prepared for it, this trip felt quite different from our last long backcountry trip. For one, I had a hard time being in the present, when the present is gray, gloomy and wet. But in all honesty, it wasn’t as bad as it possibly could have been – for example, if it had rained non-stop for 6 days, or if the trails had been flooded – and our gear kept us (mostly) dry, safe and warm throughout. The sun came out for a few moments every day and each time, we’d witness a miraculous transformation in our moods. I will also not forget how glorious the larches looked: with the gold cutting through the gray. The golden larches alone made the trip worth the uncertain weather. But what I’d really like to take back from the trip is the lesson that sometimes, the conditions are not ideal and you just have to make the best of it.