Camping in the Canadian Rockies / an account of camp life in the wilder parts of the Canadian Rocky mountains, together with a description of the region about Banff, Lake Louise, and Glacier, and a sketch of early explorations.

by Walter Dwight Wilcox

William replied, with the only trace of sarcasm I have ever known him to use: “White man no light fire, oh no, me think sun light him.”

CHAPTER VII.

The Wild Character of Paradise Valley—Difficulties with Pack Horses—A Remarkable Accident—Our Camp and Surroundings—Animal Friends—Midsummer Flowers—Desolation Valley—Ascent of Hazel Peak—An Alpine Lake in a Basin of Ice—First Attempt to Scale Mt. Temple—Our Camp by a Small Lake—A Wild and Stormy Night—An Impassable Barrier—A Scene of Utter Desolation—All Nature Sleeps—Difficulties of Ascent—The Highest Point yet Reached in Canada—Paradise Valley in Winter—Farewell to Lake Louise.

Our delightful experience in Paradise Valley convinced us that a camp should be established in it near the southern base of Mount Temple, which we hoped to ascend. From this camp we intended to make branch excursions in all directions and learn something of the mountains toward the east and south. All this region, though so near the railroad, had apparently never been explored by the surveyors, and the early expeditions had of course never approached this region nearer than the Vermilion Pass on the east and the Kicking Horse Pass on the west. In all our expeditions through these lonely but grand mountain valleys, we never discovered any mark of axe or knife on the trees, any charred pieces of wood to indicate a camper’s fire, nor any cairn or pile of stones to prove some climber’s conquest.

In fact, the impenetrable barrier of mountains at every valley end dissolved the surveyor’s hopes, even from a distance, of finding any practicable pass through the maze of lofty mountains and intervening valleys blocked with glaciers and vast heaps of moraine. The lone prospector would not be tempted by any sign of gold in the streams to explore these valleys, though the Indian hunter may have occasionally visited these regions in search of bears or the mountain goat.

We first blazed a trail from the chalet to the entrance of Paradise Valley. The route followed was merely the best and most open pathway that we could find through the forests, and though not more than three miles in length, it required as many hours to reach the valley entrance. Pack horses we obtained at the chalet, but no man could be found who would consent to act as our cook or assistant in managing the horses.

Our camp was at length established by the side of a small rivulet on the lower slopes of Mount Temple, where we found the altitude to be 6900 feet above sea-level. Our experiences with pack animals were of a most exciting nature and sometimes severely trying to our temper and patience. The horses were not accustomed to this service and performed all sorts of antics, smashing the packs among the trees, jumping high in air to clear a small stream six inches wide, or plunging regardless into rivers where, for a moment, the horse and packs would be submerged in the water. There was one place about two miles within the valley entrance that might well try the patience of Job himself. On one side of the stream, was an impassable area covered with tree trunks criss-crossed and piled two or three deep by some snow-slide of former years. On the other side of the stream, which we were compelled to take, was a dense forest. Below was a tangled growth of bush, and many fallen trees, all resting on a foundation of large loose stones covered six inches deep with green moss. Between these stones were deep holes and occasional underground streams, the water of which could be faintly heard below and which had probably washed away the soil and left these angular stones unprotected. To lead a horse through this place required the greatest skill, patience, and even daring. Without some one to lead the animal with a rope, the poor beast would stand motionless, but to pick one’s way over the rough ground while leading the horse invariably ended in disaster. The very first hole was enough to frighten the horse, so that, instead of proceeding more slowly, the animal usually made a mad rush forward regardless of the leader, who invariably fled and sought the protection of a tree, while the horse soon fell prostrate among the maze of obstacles. In these frantic rushes many of us were several times trampled on by the horse, and the packs were smashed against the branches and trunks of trees, or torn off altogether. This was an exceedingly dangerous bit of ground, and it was remarkable that on so many occasions we were able to lead our horses through it without a broken leg.

One of our most remarkable adventures with a horse may indeed test the credence of the reader, but five men can vouch for its actual occurrence. We were passing along through the forest in our usual manner, which was the outgrowth of much experience. First of all, one man preceded and did nothing else but find the blaze marks and keep on the ill-defined trail as well as possible. About twenty-five yards behind came another man whose duty it was to find the pathfinder, and if possible, improve on his trail. Then came one of our party who led the horse with a long head rope, while behind the horse were two men whose duty it was to pick up whatever articles fell out of the packs from time to time, and fasten them on again.