Sometimes you have to disregard all the reasons not to go on an adventure and just pack your bags! However, even after we got on the trail, this adventure was full of challenging moments. But read on and you’ll see why ignoring the warnings paid off in the end.
Land Acknowledgement
Jasper National Park is located in Treaty 6 and Treaty 8 as well as the traditional lands of the Beaver, Cree, Ojibway, Secwépemc, Stoney and Metis.
Desperate to do more through-hiking
Wild fires were raging through British Columbia transforming some of the world’s greatest views into dirty, smoggy grey skies. The bugs were out in force, stealing the sanity of avid hikers and the weather forecast was predicting a thunder storm in Jasper National Park.
Our car needed some work and could not be trusted on the remote, four-hour drive to Jasper and so our only option to get there was an expensive hire car.
The sciatica, which periodically shows up, was causing me pain in my lower back, was forcing me to question whether I could carry a large backpack.
Bally our sleepy, old greyhound who cannot surmount stairs, let alone mountains, would need to be booked into a costly ‘presidential suite’ at the kennel.
To top it all, the backcountry camping spots along the Skyline Trail were mostly booked up. We could only get a camp spot for one night at Little Shovel, 8 kilometers along the trail.
This meant our only option, if we were to go for it, was to camp at the 8 kilometer point; then wake up early the next day and hike as far as we could along the trail, before coming the whole way back to where we had left the car.
But the Berg Lake Trail had left us desperate to do more through-hiking.
So, obviously, we ignored the warnings, sorted the problems we could and went for it!
Day one
He did not have his bear spray
As we drove towards Jasper, we became increasingly worried about the thick clouds of smoke. Our very first camping trip in Canada and the Berg Lake Trail through-hike had started with this scenic drive. Normally, as you travel further east towards the Rockies, your excitement grows as the mountains get bigger and bigger.
But as we drove to Jasper to start the Skyline Trail we could see no snow-capped peaks and the smoke was making the back of our throats sore.
The trail head is located at one of Jasper’s famous lakes. We took a quick look before starting, but we could see nothing of Maligne Lake’s incredible postcard view: no mountains and trees were reflected in the water, just murky, slightly orange clouds.
We had been hiking through the forest for about thirty minutes when Jacob realised that he did not have his bear spray. A short while earlier we had stopped to take off a layer and he had unclipped his bear spray to take his bag off, put it on the ground, and left it there.
While Jacob ran back to find it, I stayed with the bags, paced up and down to keep the bugs off me and belted out some power ballads to keep the bears away.
Happily some ‘trail magic’ – an unexpected act of kindness between hikers – meant that Jacob did not have to run far. A couple of hikers had picked it up when they passed it, thinking that someone further up the trail may have dropped it and be in need!
Thankfully, the remainder of the first leg, a steady incline through the forest to Little Shovel, where we would be able to camp, passed without any more excitement!
Bugs attempting to drain every last milliliter of blood we had in us!
Little Shovel, 8 back country camping spots amongst the trees, not far from the edge of the forest, is described as having ‘beautiful views over Maligne Lake and the Bald Hills’ on Jasper National Park’s website: again, no such luck that today, thanks to the smoke.
But we did not care much that there was no scenic view, we were preoccupied by the bugs attempting to drain every last milliliter of blood we had in us!
We walked back and forth like headless chickens trying to decide on somewhere to camp; imaging one spot to have less bugs and concerned than another might be to high up to be safe in the forecasted storm.
Even wearing loose fitting clothes and bug shirts with head nets fully zipped up, they found a way in. Before long, the skin on my feet and shoulders (where my clothing was tighter) was bright red, mottled and stinging.
While we cooked, we got chatting to a man and woman who were also hiking the Skyline Trail. Justin, the chap, did not have any protection from the bugs, so Jacob returned the trail magic. We had two spare head nets with us, to use in the event that the bugs were not bad enough to warrant wearing the full bug shirt! Jacob gave Justin – who was looking despairing and very grateful – his spare head net.
As the first signs of a thunder storm began, we headed for the comfort of a tent. I love our tent, but this sanctuary was rather pitiful in these circumstances. There were mosquitos lurking in the corners and two sheets of nylon offers a laughable amount of protection from the swipe of a bear paw and about the same from lightening strikes!
With my head full of images of a Grizzly Bear attacking the tent during a storm and guilty thoughts of both our Mums, I feel asleep.
He’s trying to bring down the mountain
Around 2:00am Jacob woke me up, lightening was cracking directly overhead. Through the tent material, the night sky was being illuminated in violent flashes.
Half asleep, I tried to compute what Jacob was telling me about this being dangerous and that we had to get ourselves off the ground as much as we could.
We scrambled what we had – our backpacks and the few items of clothing we were not wearing- into a pile underneath each of us and put our feet up on our boots.
The guilty feeling returned and attempts to lighten the mood by quoting Gandalf: ‘He’s trying to bring down the mountain!’ between the booms of thunder was failing to push the newspaper headline – ‘Two Brits Die on Foolhardy Hiking Trip’ – from my mind!
After a while, it passed through and we clambered off of our makeshift ‘safe’ spots and led back down to get some sleep. I had closed my eyes for a moment, or that is how it felt, when Jacob woke me again. The lightening was back overhead and we needed to get ourselves off the ground again.
That is how the whole night continued. I have no idea how many times we fell back asleep before the thunder rang out a warning and back on our bags we scrambled as the lightening cracked through the sky above us. Eventually, perhaps around 5:00am, it finally stopped, and we slept.
Day two
Three-person-in-a-row open-air toilet throne
Inevitably, after such an eventful night, we woke up much later than we had intended. Which was problematic because we did not have anywhere to camp along the trail that night.
With that in mind, we had planned to have an early start and a ‘big day’ on the second day. Ideally, we wanted to get to Curator Lake, which was 11.2 kilometers away from where we were camped at Little Shovel, before turning on our heal and hiking the 21.4 kilometers back to the trail head.
This meant a 32.6 kilometer day with heavy packs, which had seemed possible, but that morning, still at camp at 10:30am, after a broken nights sleep, this was looking unlikely.
But, there was a promising blue sky which had arrived to lift our spirits. The storm may have stolen our sleep, but it had also temporarily cleared the smoke. Instead of a murky, orange tinted dark sky, we could see mountains from the three-person-in-a-row open-air toilet throne.
Tubby bodies and inquisitive faces
After the sore-throat educing conditions on the previous day, it was incredible to be in clear air. We were soon out of the forest, at an altitude where trees do not flourish. But while they may be mostly treeless, alpine meadows are absolutely beautiful and the vast, openness provides immense views of the mountain range.
The trail stretched out in front of us flanked by mountains on either side, with endless peaks stretching into the horizon.
As we walked, Marmots popped up every so often. They ran back and forth across the trail or stood on their hind legs accessing the danger and freezing to stop us seeing them. They do not seem to know how much their tubby bodies and inquisitive faces stand out against the shrubs.
As we passed through another area where camping is allowed, called Snowbowl, I could not help wishing we had been able to get a spot there for the previous night. The forest surrounding Little Shovel was lovely, but these spots in the alpine meadow were incredible.
Have you seen the Grizz?
From the camping spots at Snowbowl, we still had 7.3 kilometers to go to Curator Lake and it was already nearing mid day. But the rows of snow capped mountains and the bright green of the meadow against the blue sky had us practically skipping.
We had not seen anyone all morning, but after we left Snowbowl we met quite a few people. Including a women, who seemed to be in her early 70s, who was hiking alone and had the air of someone who had hiked far harder and far more dangerous trails in her time.
Sometimes we walked along chatting to people for a while, other times they were going the opposite way, towards Snowbowl, and so they would ask us the burning question: “have you seen the Grizz?” before moving on.
Potential bears, which may be Grizzy or Black in this area, are not often referred to with the ominous title, ‘the Grizz’, and so we were just growing suspicious when we crossed paths with another hiker on her way towards Snowbowl. She explained why people were so keen to check if we had seen ‘the Grizz’ as we had come through there.
Apparently, there were a few comments for the Skyline Trail on the AllTrails hiking App in the last week which warned people of the resident Grizzly Bear in the Snowbowl camping area. One comment even said that the Grizz had been blocking the trail at Snowbowl and they had had to abandon their plans and turn back.
We reassured this latest vigilant hiker that we had just passed through Snowbowl and that there had been no sign of a bear, no scat, nothing.
We hiked on, reminding ourselves that Grizzly Bears have huge territories and, even if it had been around Snowbowl in the last few days, it could be miles away by now.
Fired up by the sunshine, the mountains and the meadow
As we passed through the area known as Big Shovel Pass, the trail became even more outrageously beautiful and our determination to get to Curator Lake grew.
The meadow was full of wild flowers of many colours: lilacs, deep purples and bright yellows, their delicate beauty contrasted with Curator Peak’s sharp, grey edges and the bright white snow which still clung on, in patches, to the mountain.
After the numerous things that looked set to scupper our plans and the drama of the previous night, to now be hiking in the sunshine was wonderful.
Suddenly, we were walking not just fast, but really fast. Fired up by the sunshine, the mountains and the meadow; determined to get to Curator Lake.
When we got there, the lake’s milky blue water surrounded by steep banks of tumbling sediment was completely worth the push.
We slung our backpacks on the ground and refueled on sandwiches as quickly as we could. By this point it was nearly 3:00pm and, having got to Curator Lake, we now had to turn around to hike 21.4 kilometers back to the trail head.
A post-poop snooze
As soon as we turned around and started the hike back, I felt a pang of regret that we had come so far. I went over the trail in my mind, everything we had covered today and yesterday, we now had to do again before darkness fell.
In fact, ideally we wanted to be at the trail head before dusk, having no desire to be in the forest during bears most active time of day.
We did, of course, have all our camping gear and some emergency food, so we could have been naughty and camped in the wilderness, not in a designated camping spot. But it is not allowed in Jasper National Park to ensure the natural flora and fauna is protected from being trampled.
Plus, we had a place booked at the wonderful, front-country campsite, Whistlers, where there would be hot water waiting for us.
We were just making a quick stop at a stream to refill our water bottles before making our way through Snowbowl – the area known to be the preferred haunt of a Grizzly Bear – when Jacob realized, for the second time in two days, that he did not have his bear spray.
It was back at Curator Lake, where he had put it down when he took off his backpack to get some food out.
Now that we only had one bear spray to protect us for our walk through Snowbowl, I held mine in my hand. Just encase.
A little further along the path there was a gigantic pile of bear scat that was definitely not there when we had walked past this spot earlier today.
So much for comforting ourselves with thoughts that the Skyline Trail’s resident Grizzly could be miles away. It was nearby and it had done a huge poop on path in the last few hours.
I took the safely catch off my bear spray and had it ready to fire.
We talked in loud voices as we passed through Snowbowl and periodically called out a low, steady ‘hey bear’ to let it know we were there and ensure we did not startle it.
Either this worked, or it was preoccupied with a post-poop snooze. Either way, we did not see it.
It is – to say the least – exhilarating to know that you are walking near, perhaps even being watched by, an animal that can run up to 35mph and has the strength to drag a fully grown Moose.
The kilometers, quite frankly, slipped by without our noticing, thanks to being on high alert for any sign of a bear! We were soon leaving the Alpine Meadow and reentering the forest.
We passed Little Shovel, where we had camped the night before, it was satisfying to be back there and think of all the ground we had covered since leaving that morning.
It was also a little disheartening to think that we still had a long, boring, 8 kilometers from Little Shovel through the forest to the trail head.
Sweaty and hungry, with fading light and the constant threat of bears, we were two zombies hiking that final 8 kilometers. Barely speaking to each other, occasionally mustering the energy to call out to warn the bears, but mostly fantasizing about stopping, hot water and food.
When we finally reached the trail head, the relief of being able to stop was just the first reward.
The most scenic wash of our lives
Maligne Lake was now magically smoke-free. The mountains, the trees and the clouds were reflected in the water, and, as it was now evening, there were very few people on the water.
Ideal conditions for two sweaty, tried hikers to slip in and take a bath! Feet pulsing, muscles aching, we had probably the most scenic wash of our lives!
When we finally tore ourselves away from Maligne Lake, we received Jasper National Park’s second ‘well done’ gift: a bright orange sun, setting amongst the mountains.
After a short wait in a truly Canadian traffic jam – Canadian Geese striding across the road, stopping the cars – we pulled over and watched the sun sink between two mountains, over a lake which reflected back a wide orange road on its still waters.
. . .
Come on another hike with us…
Nature on steroids: four days through-hiking the Berg Lake Trail
A snowy day hiking in the footsteps of First Nation traders and conquering my fear of the cold
A hike in a land formed by ice, to a canyon conquered by paddle steamers
. . .
West Country Wandering 
What a great trail. Berg Lake standard I would say!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Brilliant account of your time in Jasper. Wish i could write so eloquently.
LikeLiked by 1 person