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

The absence of trees to the north of us, and the general depression of the country in that direction, gave us every indication that we were approaching the Upper Bow Lake, nor were our surmises incorrect, for in a few minutes more of progress, after seeing the glacier, glimpses of water surface were to be had in the near distance among the trees. I went ahead of our column of horses and selected a beautiful site for our camp, on the shore of the lake, only a few yards from the water. The surrounding region was certainly the most charming I have seen in the Rocky Mountains. The lake on which we camped was nearly cut off from the main body of water to the north, by a contraction of the shores to a narrow channel. In fact, it might be regarded as a land-locked harbor of the Upper Bow Lake. Just below our camping place the waters were contracted again, and descended in a shallow rapid to another lake, resting against the mountain side on the south. This latter lake is about three or four feet lower than the others, and appeared to be about two-thirds of a mile in length.

This region, for the artist with pencil and brush, would be a fairy-land of inexhaustible treasures. The shores along these various lakes were of a most irregular nature, and in sweeping curves or sudden turns, formed innumerable coves and bays, no less pleasing by reason of their small extent. Long, low stretches of land, adorned with forest trees, stretched straight and narrow far out into the two larger lakes, their ends dissolving into chains of wooded islands, separated from the mainland by shallow channels of the clearest water. In every direction were charming vistas of wooded isles and bushy shores, while in the distance were the irregular outlines of the mountains, their images often reflected in the surface of the water. The very nature of the shores themselves, besides their irregular contours, varied from place to place in a remarkable manner. In one locality the waters became suddenly deep, the abrupt shores were rocky, and formed low cliffs; in other places the bottom shelved off more gradually, and there would be a narrow beach of sand and small pebbles, ofttimes strewed with the wreckage of some storm,—a massive tree trunk washed upon the beach, or stranded in shallow water near the shore.

There were, moreover, many shallow areas and swampy tracts where a rich, rank growth of water grasses and sedges extended into the lake. Such border regions between the land and water were perhaps the most beautiful and attractive of all the many variations of these delightful shores. The coarse, saw-edged leaves of the sedges, harsh to the touch, are pliant in the gentlest breath of wind. The waving meadows of green banners, or ribbons, rising above the water, uniform in height, and sensitive to the slightest air motion, rustle continuously as the breezes sweep over them, and rub their rough surfaces together.

From this region, wherein were combined so many charming views of nature, with mountain scenery, lakes, islands, and forests, all of the most attractive kind, it proved impossible to move our camp for several days.

Upper Bow Lake.
Looking east.

During the time that we remained here, our explorations and wanderings took us along all the shores and islands, and up the neighboring mountain slopes. On one of the islands opposite our camp we discovered a small pool of singular formation. The pool was nearly circular, and about ten yards in diameter. The bottom was funnel-shaped, and in the very centre was a black circle—in fact a bottomless hole—apparently connected by dark subterranean channels with the depths of the adjacent lake. Its borders were low and swampy, where the spongy ground quaked as we moved about, and trembled so much that we feared at any moment to be swallowed up. In fact the whole pool became rippled by the movements of its banks.

The glacier opposite was the object of another trip, and this, too, proved interesting. The névé on the flat plateau above discharges its surplus ice for the most part by hanging glaciers, which from time to time break off and fall down the precipice. We were often startled both day and night by the thunder of these avalanches. Two tongues of ice, however, effect a descent of the precipice where the slope is less steep, and though much crevassed and splintered by the rapid motion, they reach the bottom intact. Here the two streams, together with the accumulations of ice constantly falling down from above, become welded into a single glacier, which terminates only a short distance from the lake. The most unusual circumstance about this glacier is the fact that the ice is much higher at the very end than a little farther back, so that a great, swelling mound of ice, about 200 feet thick, forms the termination.

About one fourth of a mile below the end of the glacier, on an old moraine ridge now covered over with luxuriant forest, we saw a towering cliff of rock rising above the trees. This proved, on a closer examination, to be a separate boulder, which must have been carried there by the ice a long time ago. It was of colossal proportions, at least sixty feet high, and nearly as large in its other dimensions. From the top we had an extensive view of the lakes and valleys; while at its base we found on one side an overhanging roof, making so complete a shelter, that it was not difficult to imagine this place to have been used by savages, in some past age, as a cave dwelling.

Many years ago, not less than one hundred, the forests on the slopes to the east of the valley had been devastated by a fire. The long lapse of time intervening had, however, nearly obliterated the dreary effects of this destruction. The trees had replaced themselves scatteringly among the dead timber, and attained a large size. The fallen trunks showed the great length of time they had lain on the ground by the spongy, decomposed condition of the wood. Many of the trunks had dissolved into red humus, the last stage of slowly decomposing wood, and the fragments were disposed in lines, bare of vegetation, indicating where each tree had found its final resting-place.