ADVENTURES OUT WEST: CONTINUED

In my last post, I introduced my experiences of working in the Canadian Rockies. I realized that I have so many stories I could share from this experience so, why not make it a series? This blog was created for an assignment I have in my Social Media and Digital Communications course and will be graded, but I have always played with the idea of having a blog - even just a personal one, as it seems like a great way to keep track of and reflect on memories.

I have been longing for the mountains ever since I got home. I think anyone who has experienced the vastness and mysticism of the Canadian Rockies will understand that statement. I have never considered myself to be a religious person; however, there is something spiritual about being surrounded by natural landscapes that tower around you. For such monumental features it is quite impressive that you feel a sense of calm rather than fear when standing next to a mountain. They really are quite noble.

It was during my first summer out west that I truly gained an appreciation for the many undisclosed mysteries of the Canadian Rockies. At the beginning of August 2020, I was presented with the opportunity to go backcountry camping (something I had never done before) by a co-worker of mine. Between the excitement, and the desire to be cheap and carry a light load, I packed only the essentials. Some might argue that I didn't even pack the essentials. It was a 10.2-kilometre trek with an elevation gain of 580 metres from parking lot to campground. In terms of mountain hikes, this was lightweight; however, add a pack and it becomes a different story. 

It was an irregularly hot day when we set off for our hike. By the time we had made it to the campground, chosen our site, and set up our tent, I was hot and exhausted. Thankfully, there was a beautiful, frigid lake next to the campground calling my name. I hadn't brought a bathing suit, and my clothes were already soaked with sweat, so I walked on in. The thing about mountain lakes is that they are cold. Very cold. The water is glacier fed and will make your chest tighten as you dunk your head beneath the surface. They also happen to be the most refreshing and calming place to swim. The cold water will ease any anxieties you have and force you back into the present moment. Soaking my exhausted muscles in that cold mountain lake was therapeutic.

Up to this point everything had been going great. I changed out of my wet clothes, ate two Cliff Bars and a handful of trail mix (dinner of champions), and cozied up inside my very thin sleeping bag for a little rest. Nobody warns you of how exhausting hiking can really be. Of course, there is the physical toll on your body, but there is also the mental toll of always having to be alert. Keeping your ears and eyes active in search of bears and cougars will tire you out. The plan that my co-worker and I had set to stay up and stargaze didn't end up happening as we fell asleep quite quickly.

Between my hair not being fully dry from my swim and the fact that I was sleeping in the world's thinnest sleeping bag on cold ground, my sleep was miserable. I was in and out of sleep and shivering the whole night. On one occasion I woke up, but not from the cold. I had heard footsteps by the tent but didn't think anything of it as our campsite was off the path that led to the one and only vault toilet. I figured that another camper was just walking by and convinced my mind to fall back asleep. For a second time, I heard footsteps - except these ones were closer. I still didn't think much until I heard them by my head once again. Something was circling our tent. If my body wasn't already in survival mode from trying to stay warm it was certainly in survival mode now.

I'm not sure how long I lay awake listening to footsteps before I fell back asleep. I can confirm that as soon as the first rays of light swept into our tent, my co-worker and I were both awake and ready to start moving to warm up. I had never been more eager to get out of bed. I had wondered what I heard during the middle of the night - or if I even heard anything at all. What if I was so cold and exhausted that my mind was just playing tricks on me? I asked my coworker for confirmation and we looked at each other surprised. We both heard the footsteps.

This event marks the first time that I was genuinely scared in the mountains. It was an eerie type of scared. The kind where your eyes have no proof, but your body and mind know to be wary. I imagine this to be what people refer to as our animal instinct. This isn't the fear you experience in our man-made cities. This is the kind of fear that nature bestows to teach you to adhere to the natural world. The mountains are a beautiful, spiritual place, and they deserve our utmost respect.

Hiking to the British Columbia border from Three Isle Lake Campground.

Three Isle Lake.

Hiking up the mountain to Three Isle Lake Campground.