From the end to the beginning again.

My final plan, which had already changed by necessity twice this summer, was to hike the two pieces of the GDT that I had missed in 2018-the 60 or so miles up near Kakwa Lake at the end; and section A, which was closed in 2018 due to the massive Kenow wildfire in 2017.

When it became obvious that I wouldn’t be able to do the Kakwa piece this year, I made the best of it and did my best to rehab my leg enough to do section A, a week later.

In Coleman, I walk out of town around midday and wind my way up a network of dirt roads out of town.  The road is tightly lined on both sides with thimbleberry bushes, which are heavy with fruit-dark red and velvet, they disintegrate into your fingers when you pick them; they are the sweetest summer taste their is, even if your fingers carry the red stains afterwards.

I only walk for a few hours and then set up camp next to a stream.  The sound of the water in the forest reminds me of the night I fell- but I’m in better condition now.  I hiked about 7 miles today.

I get moving around 8:30 today, continuing on the dirt road as it continues up towards Willoughby Ridge.  It’s still a little smokey, but less so today, so far.  I continue on through the day and it gets pretty warm.  I feel pretty tired by the time I get to Lynx Creek, around 3 pm.  On the road heading towards where the trail cuts off into the woods, I meet an Australian hiking couple who tell me they did the GDT from Waterton to Castle ski resort a month ago “and it was pretty tough.”  After this section, the trail veers up onto La Coulotte ridge with the option to continue the ridge on what’s called the Barnaby alt.  I’ll not be doing any of that, with a hole in my leg currently; I wish them luck.  Later on I meet another two women also from Australia also walking south whom I think are thruhiking; they are moving fast, and I am jealous of the the thru hiker’s conditioned legs at this point in a hike like this.  I had had a plan to do progressively more difficult backpacking trips to get me in shape by now, starting in April; the knee issues threw that schedule off, and I also realized that I was having a hard time flipping from 6 night shifts and then immediately going on an aggressive weeklong backpacking trip; I seem to need more recovery time from working than I did when i was younger.

I am feeling pretty slow and tired at this point.  I sit down at a slowly trickling stream and pump a few liters of water; I wander on for another mile and make camp at a flat spot next to the trail.  I hiked 17.1 miles today.

I get hiking late today, around 9 am.  I’m feeling really great as I start out-very energetic and positive.  I finish the climb up to the little high point and pick my way steeply down to the highway.  I’m still in Castle Provincial park.  I walk the few miles up the highway and am passed both ways by a group of skaters-the ski-like roller blades that prepare you to be in cross country skiing shape when winter comes.  I turn off the highway and make my way up a lesser dirt road.  It’s definitely getting hotter.  I continue up this dirt road until there is a cement barricade and a trailhead sign.  This part of the walk is really beautiful in the forest-but I’m certainly not getting the views that the people who hike the ridge will get.

In the evening I meet a family on bikes.  I finally stop around 6:30 pm, at a random place alongside the trail.  I hiked 20.5 miles today.

I start hiking at 8:45 today-not totally sure why I’m waking up relatively late these days.  I make great time on the rest of the road and start the trail up the side of the ridge.  It’s a beautiful sunny day, and the trail is in great shape-the only minor annoyance is the millions of tiny spiderwebs hitting my face as I hike along; unless I wave my hiking poles in front of me as I walk.  I remember when I hiked the AT, Steam complaining that “even if people are ahead of us on the trail in the morning, no one is ever as tall as me (6’6”) so I always get a face full of spider webs no matter what.”  It’s his pole-waving technique that I’m still using, 17 years later.

I rejoin the GDT near Font Creek Camp and continue the climb upwards.  The climb is really steep, but I’m feeling great today for some reason, so much better than a couple of days ago when I started this section. 

The trail breaks out of the forest and I am dazzled by huge mountains in every direction.  Looking south, I’m delighted to pick out the glaciers on some of the mountains in Glacier National Park, where I’m headed soon.

I finally pick my way through a burn zone over Sage Pass down to lovely Twin Lakes camp, now in Waterton national park.  I set up my tent on one of the tent pads and go to the cooking area to eat dinner (all of these camps are very Grizzly Bear safe, with the cooking/eating area being far away from the bear food lockers, which are far from the tents.)  I meet a sweet young Belgian couple just a couple of days into their northbound hike of the GDT.  I also meet a retired Canadian anesthesiologist who reminds me so much of the female docs I work with.  I retire around 8:30 into my tent.  I hiked 16 miles today.  I gained about 4000 feet in elevation.

I make an effort to wake up earlier today and get going at 7:45, a little better than I have been doing.  Strangely, the sun doesn’t rise here until 6:38 am per my Gaia app- so I get up in the pre dawn light and make my tea and cereal.  The camp is beautiful and silent this morning, with the sky turning pink behind the trees.  As I’m climbing out of Twin Lakes camp, I spot a large grizzly bear about 300 feet away from me, running up the bowl of the valley.  I make sure to click my poles loudly and call “hey, bear!” for awhile after that.

Today is a series of three passes, each bigger than the last, and a lot of little bumps in between.  I climb up and over the first pass pretty quickly and make it down to Lone Lake in a couple of hours.  It starts to rain a little bit, but as soon as I put all of my clothes in my black trash bag and put on my raincoat, it stops-classic.  I start the climb towards the second, bigger pass-the trail is very steep here, switchbacking up through the pine trees. This valley and the twin lakes valley did not burn in the 2017 fire.  After the second pass, though, I cross into a large burn zone.  No trees seem to be growing here yet, just small plants.  Incredibly I pass three very calm big horn sheep, munching on the plants. I can’t believe how unbothered they are by me.

The trail bumps up and down through the burn zone- but I feel pretty good-I’ve been using these drink supplements called “Tailwind” that are 200 calories of dextrose you put in your water; it really helps with big elevation days.  Finally I work my way all the way around the big bowl and start the final 1500 foot ascent towards Lineham ridge.  I do have to stop and catch my breath frequently, but I don’t feel exhausted-more delighted by the mind blowing scenery.

  I finally crest the ridge around 3 pm and look over the other side.  A perfectly green bowl awaits on this side, with two beautiful hanging lakes up high.  It is so strange how the fire ravaged some areas and completely missed others.

I pick my way down to the green valley floor and get down to it around 4:45.  I think, “no matter where I end up camping tonight, it’s going to be inconvenient to have to make dinner, I’ll just do it now.”  I boil water and make another Peak Refuel dinner, eat it and start making my way down to Rowe Lakes trailhead.  I am delighted at how much energy this early dinner gives me to keep hiking.  I get down to the Akamina Parkway and notice that it has turned cloudy again.  I start to walk the 3 miles down the road, which is actually the route, then I think “this is really dumb.”  There is no shoulder at all, and it’s getting darker; it’s hard for cars to see and avoid me.  I put my thumb out and the first car pulls over.  It’s a husband and wife, their preteen daughter; and grandma.  “I only need a ride a few kilometers down to the Akamina pass trailhead,” I explain.  They are incredibly friendly and chatty-except I notice when they drop me off 5 minutes later, as I’m grabbing my bag out of the back, grandma glances back at me doubtfully-not so sure about this picking up hitchhikers plan.

We pull into the parking lot for Akamina Pass-there are tons of cars.  Also, the clouds are getting darker and it starts to sprinkle.  I thank the kind family and start hustling up the last 1.5 miles and 300 feet gain for the day, trying to beat the thunderstorm. Lighting lights up the sky and thunder booms; the wind picks up, mournfully whistling through the dead burned trees.  I hustle faster.  I finally make it to the campground as it starts to rain; all of the tent pads are full.  I spy a little unofficial spot in the dirt amongst the baby pine trees and nab it.  I get my tent up in two minutes as the rain really starts to pick up.  It rains for about an hour but it’s much colder afterwards; I hope I sleep well tonight.  I hiked about 16.6 miles and hitched 2 miles today. I gained 5400 feet.

I get moving at 7:30 out of the Akamina camp; everyone else is just waking up.  It’s chilly this morning; my tent is very wet, and nothing has dried from yesterday’s downpour.  I make it down to Cameron Lake and the boat docks; I look up and see a massive, very dark cloud over the mountains. 

That’s a nope for me, walking up into that.  Those kinds of clouds tend to have torrential rain and usually hail.  I turn around and decide to walk the Akamina Parkway into Waterton.

The cloud gives me about 10 minutes of reprieve before starting to rain on the roadwalk.  I stop and put my rain gear on; incredibly, 2 people pull over and ask me if I’d like a ride into town.  I say thank you but turn them down; I really do want to walk all the way into Waterton, even though this is basically the lowest elevation way to do section A (holes in legs be damned.)

The clouds mostly pass and the sun comes out; the descent into Waterton lakes is nothing but lovely.

I get into town around 1 pm and find a restaurant for some lunch.  After that I wander over to the Townsite Campground.  Waterton is an extremely popular tourist destination, kind of akin to West Yellowstone; tour buses roll through continuously, and like most of the Canada national park camp sites, reservations happen six months in advance.

I approach the drive up window for the campground, noticing the “Full/Complet” orange signs over all of the campsite rings.  “Hey, I think I know what you’re gonna say-but do you have any little tiny spots for one backpacking tent, no vehicle?” I ask smilingly.  The young woman considers.  “No; we are completely booked-but if you really can’t figure it out, come back after 5 pm, and I’ll talk to my colleagues and we’ll see what we can do for you.”  I thank her and sit down to look at hotels on my phone; every available hotel in town is $350 a night or more.  I wander over to the Bayshore Inn to do laundry; changing into my rain clothes quickly between the washing machines and kind of pack exploding in the corner; I plug my almost-dead phone into a wall socket.

This is a tourist town, but I don’t feel out of place here; for some reason I think of the very fancy bunkhouse at Abisko in Sweden 4 years ago on the Nordkalotleden; the sideways looks from everyone at my clothes, my pack, my smell; and how absolutely no one else was doing what I was doing even though it was technically a mountain hut.  Not so here, though; a man hails me from a table outside a restaurant, “excuse me, you look like a serious hiker, have you done the lake north of here?”  I feel like part of the ecosystem, even if lots of other people here are vacationing differently than myself.

I wander back over to the Townsite campground.  The kind woman tells me, “ok, I’ll issue you a camping permit for one of our two overflow sites.”  It’s a little patch of gravel kind of right in the middle of the campground; perfect.  I set up my tent and go to find some dinner.  The wind picks up and conveniently dries all of my wet things.  I hiked 12.6 miles today.