Frigid adventure into the Canadian Rockies

Brothers and I trekking into Johnston Canyon.

My brothers and I were carefully making our way across Abraham Lake in the Canadian Rockies on the North Saskatchewan River in western Alberta. Now that’s a sentence I didn’t think I’d ever write!

The lake, Alberta’s largest reservoir, was a frigid expanse of ice stretching to the distant horizon. The temperature was hovering in the mid-teens but thanks to a strong breeze and Mother Nature’s sense of whimsy the mercury felt like it was dipping into negative territory. No problem.

We were mostly prepared for the harsh winter weather that blankets the area around Banff National Park, in fact had been getting ready for a month or two after I messaged my brothers — Gary, Larry and Ian — that I was bored and it was time to plan another wintry adventure.

I suggested Banff. My brothers foolishly agreed.

Searching for bubbles on Abraham Lake.

That’s how we ended up standing on a sheet of ice in search of bubbles — yes, bubbles — filling up the Canadian freezer we were slipping and sliding on during day two of our trip. The bubbles, a dazzling maze of whitish goop held tightly in an icy embrace, are actually frozen pockets of methane gas.

They were just one of the natural wonders and highlights of a day-long mountain photo tour that included stops at a number of iconic spots filled with the heady and awe-inspiring handiwork of Mother Nature and her magical elves — thanks and a tip of the cap to Nick, our splendid guide and photographic guru.

My brothers, all talented photo hobbyist, were weighted down with 20 to 30 pounds of cameras and equipment — extra lenses and polarizing filters, spare batteries and memory cards, remote shutter releases, lens cleaning kits and tripods. I was lugging around an iPhone 11 that weighs in at a tortuous 7.97 ounces! Okay, their photos are probably better composed and a bit more focused and colorful then mine. My arms and back, however, didn’t ache at the end of the day and, to tell the truth, my pictures were just fine!

Stupendous sunrise at Vermillon Lake.

The trip was a memorable, at times spiritually-rich exploration of the wondrous and beautiful gifts in the world if you’re out and about and looking in the right direction. When resting, we camped out in a three bedroom, three-and-a-half bath Airbnb in Canmore, about an hour west of Calgary and 20 or so minutes outside the city of Banff.

We mostly stayed busy driving around Banff National Park, staring somewhat slack-jawed at the snow-capped peaks and pristine valleys that are as ubiquitous in the Canadian Rockies as billboards and pine trees are along I-75 in South Georgia.

Our first road trip found us knee deep in ice and snow at Johnston Canyon, a 30-minute drive north of Banff on the Trans-Canada Highway. The popular site features overhanging Canyon walls and dense vegetation, worn trails, steel catwalks, and a challenging three-mile hike — out and back — to a distant waterfall that during the winter months is transformed into a stunning tower of ice.

Canadian-Pacific train chugging through Morant's Curve.

Three of us managed the trek and were rewarded with spectacular scenery and the chance to watch several ice climbers scale the upper falls.

A day later we were up before the crack of dawn to begin our photo tour of the region. We began the outing at Vermillon Lake to watch the sun rise. We weren’t disappointed. The sun, literally and poetically, brushed the sky with lovely streaks of, wait for it, vermillon.

It was spectacular and an auspicious beginning to a journey brimming with aching beauty that filled both our hearts and cameras with delight. It was also chilly — very chilly!

To battle the elements I wore a base layer of merino wool underwear, a flannel shirt, fleece vest, thermal snow pants and socks, quilted puffer jacket, balaclava and woolen beanie. Finally, after pulling on a pair of Merrill Thermo Chill Mid-Waterproof boots, I was good to go. And go we did.

Trekkers hiking across Bow Lake and the Wapta Icefield.

Most of the day we spent on the Trans-Canada and Icefields Parkways, surrounded by the natural beauty of the Canadian Rockies at a dozen or so stops, including Castle Mountain and Lake Minnewanka, Morant Curve and Lake Louise, Bow Lake, the Wapta Icefield and Howse Pass between Mount Conway and Howse Peak.

Each spot was filled with a preternatural beauty, hard to define and impossible to capture. It was something to be felt and experienced, like a soft breeze in early spring or the stirrings of first love.

Norman Maclean, one of my favorite authors, once wrote about the same idea in much more poetic fashion.

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.”

Me, too.