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It was raining the following morning and I looked out of the window my lovely view of the mountains above Canmore had disappeared! The cloud was so low that, apart from a few trees beyond the neighbouring houses, I could see nothing but grey. It was grim.
After consulting the weather forecast for the day, my host decided we should drive through the mountains and cross the Continental Divide into British Columbia via the Kicking Horse Pass, and hopefully leave the clouds and rain behind in Alberta. The Kicking Horse Pass is one of the most rugged and scenic sections of the Trans-Canada Highway and, at the time of my visit, was undergoing major improvement works to transform it from a dangerous and constricted, winding mountain road into a modern four-lane highway. The works include realigning tight bends and widening the carriageway by building new lanes on concrete decking which extend horizontally out from the mountainside, and mitigating rock falls and avalanche hazards with bridges, rock catchment ditches and retaining walls. The improvements also include wildlife bridges and tunnels along natural and traditional paths for migration and feeding, which reduce fatalities of both humans and animals from vehicle vs animal collisions.
On the way, we made a brief stop near the town of Field, in British Columbia, close to the site of the historic Big Hill on the Canadian Pacific Railway. Back in the 1880s, rather than digging through a nearby mountain, the original railway track was constructed along the shortest route over and down the mountain as a cost-saving measure. Unfortunately, the gradient was too steep and the first train attempting the descent lost control and derailed, sadly killing three people.
To try to prevent this happening again, three spur lines were added to divert runaway trains, but uphill trains also had problems due to the steep incline and needed extra locomotives to assist in their ascent. Tragically, disasters continued along this stretch of track with alarming regularity until a solution was devised, inspired by a successful spiral tunnel system in the Swiss Alps. In the early 20th century, the Spiral Tunnels were hewn through solid rock running in two three-quarter circles deep within the hillside and, since they opened in 1908, they have significantly improved safety by reducing the gradient through lengthening the climb and descent. Nowadays, freight trains up to 2.5km (about 1.5 miles) long, with modern braking system, still snake along this track assisted by as many as four locomotives, but hazards such as rockfalls, mudslides, and avalanches still pose challenges along this route.
It was still quite early in the day, and weather remained grey and overcast, so we returned to the car and headed up the scenic Yoho Valley Road, which is only open for four months each year between mid-June and mid-October. The way is so steep and narrow in places that it’s quite challenging for a car to navigate some of the tighter hairpin turns and, on two occasions, we had to reverse back a little way to take the turn safely in two moves. Thankfully, vehicles towing trailers or caravans are not permitted or it would be utter chaos!
The Yoho National Park lies on the traditional territory of the Ktunaxa, Blackfoot, and Cree First Nations, and the word ‘Yoho’ comes from the Cree exclamation for awe or astonishment, which suits the dramatic landscape of mighty mountain peaks, dark forests, low clouds, and narrow waterfalls very well indeed.
We followed the winding road for approximately 20 minutes until we reached a small car park where we left the car and headed for the base of the Takkakaw Falls, the highest continual flow waterfall in the Canadian Rockies and second highest in all of Canada. After a short walk along a very accessible pathway and footbridge over the churning Yoho River, I knew we were nearing our destination as I began to hear and feel the thunderous roar of water plunging down the mountainside, and there was a definite drop in air temperature from the resulting spray and mist.
The name ‘Takkakaw’ derives from the Cree word for wonderful or magnificent, and it couldn’t be a more fitting description. The effect is truly spectacular as meltwater from the Daly Glacier appears to squeeze through a narrow gap at the top of an almost sheer cliff before tumbling in slow motion down the rockface, eventually crashing onto the rocks below. These falls feature two cascades, amounting to an astonishing 373 metres (1,224 feet) in height – around the height of the Empire State Building in New York. While you can only view the lower main drop from the safety of the viewpoint, this was without doubt one of the most awe-inspiring and humbling marvels of nature I have ever witnessed.
The water from the Takkakaw Falls feeds into the Yoho River, which flows generally south, before feeding into the Kicking Horse River which flows generally west through the Yoho National Park, a protected area known for its amazing wilderness and hiking trials, until it eventually reaches Alberta.
Somewhat damper from the spray and mist, we returned to the car and headed back down the twisting mountain road on to our next stop of the day, about an hour’s drive away, near the gloriously named town of Golden.
The cloud and rain had indeed stayed behind us on the Albertan side of the Rockies as we arrived at the Kicking Horse Mountain Resort, an outdoor activity centre which includes a popular ski resort in winter, or rock-climbing and a mountain bike park with the highest and longest descent in summer.
There is also a gondola, a glass sided cable car, which whisks visitors up to the Eagle’s Eye restaurant, billed as Canada’s most elevated dining experience, literally. We were advised that, sadly, the restaurant was closed as this was the day after a long weekend, so lunch was off…
Instead, we joined a short queue of mountain bikers of assorted ages who seemed to be there only for the thrills of the terrifying downhill track as they skipped the effort of pedalling uphill by taking an open chairlift up the mountainside instead. Once they reach to top, they launch themselves onto one of several trails suitable for different abilities, including an insanely steep, narrow, and twisty high-speed track over rocks and tree roots, until they reached the bottom. Having survived the descent, they hit their brakes, come to a screeching halt, before heading straight to the chairlift to go back up and do it all again!!
While we waited for the chairlift to arrive and pick us up, I realised that I was feeling less anxious compared to a couple of days ago when, as a complete chairlift novice, I had survived two rides. Once we boarded the chairlift, I actually enjoyed looking around at the breathtaking scenery and watching the mountain bikers below us careering crazily down the mountainside. Nevertheless, I was still relieved when we reached our stop and disembarked, which – hopefully – I managed with a certain amount of grace and poise this time.
Thankfully, our purpose for the chairlift ride was not to seek an adrenaline rush through physical exertion. Instead, we had come to visit the world’s largest enclosed and protected grizzly bear reserve, spanning 20 acres of natural mountainside habitat, and home to Boo, a massive grizzly bear. The refuge is dedicated to the preservation of the grizzly species, and serves as an educational, conservation, and research facility.
Boo and his twin brother Cari were orphaned at 5 months old when a poacher shot and killed their mother. Normally, bear cubs spend around 2-3 years with their mother, who protects them and teaches them survival skills. At the time, bear rehabilitation was not permitted by the government, so Boo and Cari’s chances were pretty grim. Fortunately, the Kicking Horse Mountain Resort stepped in, constructing a large enclosure within wild bear habitat, featuring multiple ponds and native vegetation, including thirteen berry species. Sadly, Cari died from natural causes during their first winter, but Boo has lived there for two decades now, offering a unique opportunity for scientific research and providing extensive insights into the behaviour and life development of grizzly bears.
Male grizzlies are known to be solitary creatures, so living alone is a natural condition for Boo and he is generally content residing at the refuge playing, foraging for food, and exploring, just like he would in the wild. However, when he was younger and hoping to find a girlfriend, he managed to break out from the refuge twice during the four-week mating season by breaking down a steel door and charging a series of fences. On both occasions, he was spotted in the wild cavorting with female grizzly bears before he eventually returned voluntarily to the food and safety of the refuge having lost a great deal of weight but presumably having thoroughly enjoyed his escapade!
Of course, as Boo can wander around an area as large as 20 acres, visitors can be disappointed not to spot him, but it was our lucky day as he was hanging around right near the perimeter fence, so we were able to get right up close to him. One of the rangers said that, to supplement his natural food source, they sometimes drop extra rations from the gondola, so it gets scattered around the large enclosure and, as there’s no set time, Boo doesn’t get used to a routine. This random feeding also gives Boo the opportunity to take himself on a scavenger hunt, which encourages him to forage for food, just like he would in the wild.
It’s no exaggeration to say that Boo was absolutely the most magnificent creature I have ever seen, with huge, curved claws each the size of human fingers, yet the surface on the soles of his paws resembles matte black velvet. Grizzly bears are characterised by a hump on their back between their shoulders, a distinctive indentation between their forehead and snout, and dark brown fur with silver-tipped hairs, giving them a grizzled appearance, hence the name.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Boo enjoys a little company, and whether he was observing us or us observing him. He did put on a lovely show of scratching trees and then rubbing himself against the bark in a little dance as if to cure an itch in his back. The ranger explained this behaviour is a natural way for grizzlies to mark territory and a signal to potential mates. It was also good to know that Boo has displayed many instinctive moves and behaviour, suggesting that in the future, orphaned cubs could be rewilded without their mothers present to teach them. One such instinct surfaced when a hapless moose found its way into Boo’s enclosure, and Boo captured and killed it, then buried the carcass to eat in the future. Typically, Boo spends the winter hibernating in a holding area created for him, but one year he spent the winter in a den he created himself. Although the den wasn’t perfect, it was still a remarkable feat, given that he has never been taught to create a den and hibernate.
Although Boo cannot be released into the wild as he is too habituated to people, so would approach humans without fear and put both himself and them at risk, it’s reassuring to know that he is living the best captive life possible – even if he doesn’t have a girlfriend to keep him company.
We left Boo and headed back down the mountain on the creaking swaying open chairlift, and I quietly thought how luxurious this mode of travel was to the concept of careering down a mountain on two wheels…
Returning to the car, we left the resort and rejoined the Trans-Canada Highway where it meanders through the mountains following the course of the Kicking Horse River towards Emerald Lake close to the town of Field. After about an hour, we turned off the highway and made a quick stop at Natural Bridge, a unique and fascinating rock formation sculpted by the relentless erosive power of the Kicking Horse River on limestone rock.
Once upon a time, this was a standard – if there is such a thing – waterfall, however, over thousands of years, the relentless torrent of water has worn the softer rock layers, leaving in its wake a natural bridge of harder rock suspended over the river.
Natural Bridge is a popular tourist destination, and most visitors choose to view the impressive rock formation from the safety of a viewpoint conveniently accessible from the parking lot. Here, a sturdy concrete barrier separates them from the surging water as it disappears beneath the rock bridge that spans the river.
For the more adventurous, a relatively short walk along a level trail leads to a man-made bridge located slightly downstream. Here, they are rewarded with a spectacular view of the river winding its way through rocky beds until it reaches Natural Bridge, where it flows beneath the bridge, all against the breathtaking backdrop of tranquil forests and the magnificent mountain landscapes. It is only from this point that the interconnecting sections of the natural stone arch of the bridge are truly visible.
(Click on an image below to view full size)
Back to the car again, and just a few minutes up the road we reached Emerald Lake, the largest lake in the Yoho National Park.
It is absolutely stunning, and the epitome of a Canadian lake with its incredible colour, surrounded by thick forests, mountains, and a fragile alpine meadow environment.
Like so many of the lakes in the Canadian Rockies, Emerald Lake is full of water from melting glaciers in the mountains nearby. During the winter these glaciers grow and move, and this movement of ice causes erosion of the rocks. These tiny particles of rock are called glacial silt and, in the spring, they are usually washed away with meltwater forming what is known as glacial milk. When the glacial milk reaches the lakes, the silt doesn’t settle at the bottom, but floats in the water creating and appearance of coloured water. Each glacial lake has its own colour, depending on the type of rock beneath its glacier.
Enclosed by mountains of the President Range, Emerald Lake is absolutely vast and features the Emerald Lake Lodge, a luxury hotel founded about a hundred years ago and built from hand-hewn timber, on a peninsula jutting out into the lake. The Lodge was currently undergoing renovations, so no chance of a very late lunch that day…
Instead, we decided to hike around the lake, a trail of just over 5km (3.2 miles). We started from the Lodge on an anti-clockwise route, but after about 30 minutes, the path was getting more and more muddy, the lake was no longer visible, and tree roots growing up and across the trail made it quite difficult to traverse, so we turned back and returned to the Lodge to try the clockwise route instead.
Crossing a small bridge from the Lodge, the trail is much more acessible and straightforward, and we quickly reached the furthest point of the lake which we had failed to reach from the other route. It would be nice to actually have circumnavigated the lake, but as it was getting late, and we still had to go to the supermarket in Canmore to buy something to eat that evening, we turned back along the way we had come and reluctantly returned to the car for the 90 minute drive back to Canmore.
We picked up a huge fresh Steelhead Trout fillet in the supermarket, about the size of a large side of salmon. Although I’d never heard of this fish before, I learned it is native to the West Coast of Canada and Alaska, where it migrates from fresh water to the ocean. In the sea, these trout grow larger and leaner compared to their freshwater counterparts, which we know as the more familiar Rainbow Trout.
My host prepared the fillet by cutting it across its length into two pieces, then gently pan-frying it with butter and lemon. Served with french beans and a couple of new potatoes, the fish looked and tasted not unlike salmon, but without the slightly unctuous texture that can make salmon feel a bit greasy.
Our fish supper turned out to be a light and absolutely delicious meal, and was definitely worth having skipped lunch for…
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[i] Spiral Tunnels 1908 image in the public domain via Wikimedia Commons
Funny where life takes you... 
