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We dropped our packs by the
creek and climbed up a nearby ridge to get a view of what was ahead. Much to my
surprise, the skies briefly cleared, offering the panoramic views of the Ram
Range we were searching for.
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| Before the Cripple Creek Hike |
It wasn’t supposed to be like
this. After endless hours of
studying my back country guide book and researching numerous trails within 3.5
hours of Edmonton, my boyfriend Chris and I chose Cripple Creek south of
Nordegg as the destination for our first back country hiking/camping adventure.
The 10.5 km trail is described
as "a pleasant, moderate hike through open meadows and along a beautiful valley
bottom, with many opportunities to see wildlife, interesting geological
formations and a fine 180-degree view of the foothills." It sounded like the
perfect adventure for a couple of rookies getting a feel for the back country
and looked like a route that was easy enough to follow.
Our spirits were high as we
slugged on our heavy packs and took a self portrait before hitting the trail
along the creek. But I soon saw there was more than one trail to follow,
beginning many hours of confusion.
Minutes into the hike, I had
to cross the stream not once but twice, soaking my boots that are only
waterproof up to my ankles. It didn’t take long before I had to cross the stream
again, sparking more confusion since the trail directions mentioned crossing
the stream only one time.
We lost the path several
times, only to have it re appear on the other side of the stream, prompting more
crossings and soggier boots. I also came across several large piles of poop
that left me wondering whether it was a horse or a bear.
After completely losing the
path, we reached a cutline five hours later by simply following the creek that
zig zagged through the forest. But this prompted more confusion since the trail
directions didn’t match anything we had seen thus far.
“At the extensive gravel
flats, approximately 7 km from the trail head, cross to the north side of the
creek to find a cut line 5 metres from the bank,” read Chris from the tattered
piece of paper folded in my pocket. “What gravel flats? Do you see an extensive
gravel flats? This doesn’t make any sense.”
I read the description over
several times, trying to figure out if we were in the right area and where we possibly
could have gone wrong. The sun was now disappearing and thunder rumbled in the
distance, signaling a storm was coming soon. There wasn’t much time to waste.
We dropped our packs by the
creek and climbed up a nearby ridge to get a view of what was ahead. Much to my
surprise, the skies briefly cleared, offering the panoramic views of the Ram
Range we were searching for.
I no longer felt defeated and
immediately spotted a place to set up camp for the night. It was just around
the corner from where we were trying to sort our confusion and battle our
disappointment with the soggy hike thus far.
The skies waited long enough
for us to pitch a tent and eat a quick meal before heavy rain set in for the
night. But I was so tired from the hike in and sleepless night before that I didn’t
cared if I had to spend the night snuggling in a tent. The rain kept my
imagination from running wild about the animals that could be lurking around
our camp under the cover of darkness.
I awoke the next morning to
more gloomy skies. The rain continued to fall, making it difficult to crawl out
of my sleeping bag. In between showers, we quickly got a move on, this time deciding to follow the cut line back to the Cripple
Creek bridge – a route the trail directions recommend for a more direct return
trip.
I didn’t have much confidence
in the cutline route given my confusion with the directions on the hike in.
But with a GPS map in hand, we decided to skip the endless stream crossings,
and see what was in store along the cutline.
Only an hour or so into the
hike I was already half way back to the car. Adding to my delight, the skies
were clearing, showing the beautiful display of mountains I had came out here
for.
Despite the water sloshing around in my boot from the soaking wet grass, I was actually beginning to feel
comfortable in the back country with nobody around for miles. Then suddenly my
worst fear became a reality — I encountered a bear.
It was sitting about 200
metres below us in a meadow along a little creek we were now following. The
bear was brown and enormous. It spotted us immediately, gripping me with fear.
“There’s a bear,” I said to nervously, as I took a sharp turn in the opposite direction of the animal. I
headed into the bush, making as much noise as possible, then veered back east,
hoping I had passed the bear. But then I saw it again, staring back at us in
the same location, forcing us to retreat back into the trees.
I didn’t stick around to see
its reaction or snap a photo. My instincts told me to flee and hope the animal
didn’t decide to follow. I have never felt so vulnerable in my life.
Encountering a bear was one of my biggest fears about wandering into the back country.
Yes, I am a chicken, but for good reason. Bears are unpredictable and highly
dangerous.
Fortunately this story has a
happy ending as I quickly realized I was only about 10 minutes from the car. But I was left questioning
whether I would ever venture into the back country again. The answer is probably,
but not without a gun and a beaten path.
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| After the Cripple Creek hike |