I was not prepared for Floe Lake.  I have hiked all over the States.  I am a distance runner: I usually run 7-12 miles a day, 3-4 days a week.  I incorporate a barrage of situps, pushups, pull-ups, and weight training into my regular exercise routine.  I generally consider myself to be in great shape.  Yet, For the first time in my life, a mountain has defeated me.

Originally, my plan was to hike the 6.5 miles into Floe Lake, followed by another 6 miles into the next ridge and valley beyond Floe Lake, and to camp in the backcountry at a place called Numa Creek.  I couldn’t camp at Floe Lake, because it requires a backcountry pass to camp there, and, being a popular site, those passes tend to sell 6 months to a year in advance.  Nevertheless, I felt strong enough to make a 12 mile trek, knowing that I run similar distances all the time.

As has become usual for the trip, I drove to the site first thing in the morning, a pretty drive that took me through the British Columbia countryside and Radium Hot Springs.  When I got to the trailhead, I got my pack together, and took off into the wild, this time by myself.  A fire ravaged this area a few years ago, making the start of the hike a bit ominous.

I climbed and climbed for what felt like forever, until the cars on the road behind me were small dots.

At this point, I was already starting to feel beat up, even though there were still probably about 5 miles remaining to Floe Lake.  See, the Floe Lake trail takes in just under a kilometer in elevation gain.  However, the gains are concentrated in two areas of the trail: the first two and last two kilometers.  As a result, those portions of the trail are hell based on steepness alone.  The remainder of the trail is relatively flat.

As I continued to push forward, mountain lupines, some taller than me, started to take over everything until I was literally buried and barely able to make out the trail.  My destination called to me, way off in the distance.

The base of the glacier line on that rock wall is where I was headed.

I followed this lupine forest for what felt like an eternity – it just stretched on forever.  Ridge after ridge, slowly crawling towards Floe Lake.  As I continued through this floral forest, I started to notice four things: (1) the food I had packed in was leaving my pack at an astronomical rate; (2) the water I had packed in was leaving my pack at an even greater astronomical rate; (3) as I passed people and started asking how much further, they all just laughed at me and said the same thing: “quite a ways yet;” and (4) my entire body was starting to ache from carrying my heavier overnight pack over that many miles and up that much elevation.

Finally, I escaped the wildfire struck area and the lupine forest, and the trail began to reveal its main challenge.  Note, it failed to present this challenge until about mile 5 or so.

That steep (steep!) line of forest on the right – that needs to be climbed to reach the final destination.

As I started making the final ascent, my legs really began to burn from the added weight of the pack, my lungs felt like they were going to burst from the elevation gain, and all around, I just wasn’t a happy camper (no pun intended).  Worse, relentless flies, unaffected by Off, began to come out of the trees and started biting like crazy.  By the time I made it to Floe Lake, blood was trickling down my arms from all of the fly bites.  However, I was so tired at that point that I just didn’t care.

The first thing I did at Floe Lake was to take an inventory check of food and water:  for water, I had less than a liter remaining (meaning I had already drank well over a liter and a half).  I also had a hydration pack with a built in water filter, but because of the way the pack works, I couldn’t really use water from it for cooking.  Hence, that “less than a liter” really was just cooking water.  As for food, I only had an MRE left, which would require the cooking water to prepare.  I’m not really sure how I went through so much food and water so quickly (well, I do…I mean, it was a strenuous trail); I’m usually very good at calculating my food and water needs based on my energy expenditure.  I guess I just never really believed the Floe Lake trail would be that difficult going into it.  However, it was that difficult and then some.

At that time I made the executive decision to not continue onto Numa, as it just seemed too risky given how little food and water I had left, and how that food and water would have had to last me well into tomorrow.  I love nature, but I don’t love putting myself into dangerous, possibly stupid scenarios when out in it.  If you aren’t fully prepared to tackle some problem out in the wild, it’s best to turn back rather than take an unnecessary risk.

Before I started heading back down the Floe Lake trail, I admired Floe Lake and its Rockwall.  The site is famous amongst backpackers in-the-know, but not well populated (I’m guessing as a result of it being difficult to hike into).  I guess you could think of the Rockwall as Canada’s answer to El Capitan.  Seriously, the thing is HUGE.  I couldn’t capture it all in my camera, it was so big.

This last photo is my favorite, because it provides some perspective.  If you look really (and I mean really) hard at the far off shore, you will notice near the end of it a yellow pixel and a gray-green pixel.  The pixels are slightly different colored than the trees.  Those are people.  I only know they are there because I took the shot, otherwise I never would have seen them in this photo.

After spending a good hour or so at the lake, I decide it’s time to head back down the mountain.  The trail, once again, is seemingly endless.  By the end of it, I have logged 13 strenuous miles with a heavy pack on my shoulders and my legs feel like jelly.  Not bad.  In a different world, were I better prepared and with more food, I’m certain I could have made it on to Numa.  But, I’m pleased with my choice, and pleased I at least got to see the renown Floe Lake and its Rockwall.  When I got down the mountain, I drove and drove until I finally found a vacancy at a motel in Golden.  Apparently, there’s some big holiday going on in Alberta right now which makes booking motel rooms kind of difficult.  Now to rest and to recharge for whatever adventure awaits me tomorrow.

Cheers,

Rob