Another daylong adventure I took boys on while we lived in Southern Alberta was Turtle Mountain. It sounds innocuous if you aren’t from the area, but if you are there is another connotation entirely.
View from the top of Turtle Mountain – you can see the slide at the bottom of the photo with the highway passing through it (2019)
Turtle Mountain, when you are driving through the Crowsnest Pass is unmissable. Why? Because the side of the mountain sheared off in 1903, crashing down onto the coal mining town of Frank, burying it and the railroad under millions of tons of rock and killing as many as 90 people. To this day, it feels like you are driving through a rock quarry as the entire foot of the valley is covered in boulders.
There is a trail on this mountain though. If you drive west up the valley past the slide, you come to a town called Coleman, and if you drive into town and bear to the southeast, you will find a trailhead. The hike is 7 km return, up and back, with about 900m to the top of the remaining peak.
I elected to take my twins up there. In retrospect, probably ill-advised, as I did not realize how nervous I would be with them near (less than 5m) away from the sheer cliff that is the slide face. They were good boys though, they listened and never went really close.
The view of Coleman after some altitude gains (2019)One of the cracks in the mountain (2019)The boys found a windbreak shelter to hide in (2019)
The hike up was steady, with views of the town behind us. The trail mostly stays on the side of the mountain away from the slide, and does get steeper and more exposed as we got close to the top. What I found particularly interesting… or possibly unnerving, was that when we got to that zone, we wove amongst cracks in the stone that sometimes descended a couple meters down.
I was able to see firsthand how the slide happened – snow and ice had built up in some of these cracks, and with the spring thaw, ice has an interesting characteristic. Water decreases in volume as it cools to 4 degrees Celsius, but below 4 it actually begins to expand – this is what gives ice its buoyancy. Unfortunately, this freezing and thawing cycle can be so dramatic it can fracture rock. So one day the ice got too deep and expanded a little too much with a freeze cycle, and broke the mountain.
A notch in the rock looking down on the slide area (2019)
So this hike is great for geology lessons, and for incredible views of the slide and the pass. I heartily recommend it for a dayhike, even with kids!
With our upcoming trip on the Arizona Trail on our minds, we thought we would do a new Bucket List post – this time with both our perspectives. We will go through the list one place at a time, volunteering ours then commenting on the other.
Oliver’s #5: I would have put the Te Araoa on here until we watched the Hiking America videos of their thru. There were some beautiful days, but a lot more road walking than I thought, and also quite a bit of swampy stuff. I’m still traumatized by our Gros Morne Traverse thru-hike I guess! Now, I’d probably say the Colorado Trail. There’s a posting in Colorado Springs I may be eligible for in 5 years or so… (Swamps can be fun. – Cheryl)
Cheryl’s #5: The Florida Trail. While the road walks aren’t appealing to me, I like to celebrate when I complete hard things. The Florida Trail could involve a lot walking through swampy water (Hey, gators!), but it also has a lot of warm weather and plants that I would enjoy experiencing along the way. (Swampy… – Oliver)
Oliver’s #4: I’d probably put the Appalachian Trail here on the list. I am not as excited about it as some other trails, but there are parts of it I would love to see. Honestly, the busyness of the trail is probably the biggest turnoff for me, but I’d still give it a go if Cheryl wanted to do it. It wouldn’t be a hard sell. (See #2. – Cheryl)
Cheryl’s #4:Ozark Highlands Trail. Who wouldn’t want to spend time in the Ozark mountains? I have visited Arkansas and thought the area is beautiful. I wouldn’t mind spending some time hiking through it. (Or the Ouachita Trail? I wouldn’t object to either! – Oliver)
Oliver’s #3: The Arizona Trail. I’m really excited about our section hike in March. But despite the fact that I am very happy with the section we are doing, I REALLY want to see the Grand Canyon too! This isn’t the year for it though. (We will have to go back to do the Grand Canyon. – Cheryl)
Cheryl’s #3: The Wonderland Trail. It is a shorter thru-hike at 93 miles (150k) and one that needs to be done at a time of the year when there is not a lot of snow, but it checks the boxes for a manageable time commitment and beautiful mountain views. If we were to do this trail, we would need to win the “permit lottery” to camp in the backcountry. (For a short trail this would be lovely – Oliver)
Oliver’s #2: the Great Divide Trail. I’ve already hiked almost 2 sections of it, and I just love it. But I want to finish it, thru-hike it. It is without a doubt the best trail of its kind in Canada – 600 miles of Canadian Rockies, cutting right through the world famous Jasper and Banff, and those aren’t even the best parts! (So many trails. So little time. – Cheryl)
Cheryl’s #2: Appalachian Trail. Oliver has talked many times about the tree tunnels and lack of views on this trail, but the idea of really getting connected with the trail community and building a “tramily” really appeals to me. When discussing thru-hiking, this feels like a must do. (It’s my #4, so I’m in! – Oliver)
Oliver’s #1: The Pacific Crest Trail. Ever since encountering the movie, “Wild” it’s been on my mind, taking up space. I want to do it before I die, 100%. The clock is ticking though, and I know my body hasn’t been broken yet like many friends’ have, but it is wearing. I was talking to my boss’s boss last year and she said if I want to do it, do it – take unpaid leave if necessary, don’t wait until it’s too late. So I am hoping this may happen in the next few years as our kids graduate and move out.
Cheryl’s #1: We agree! Pacific Crest Trail would be my #1. It is an opportunity to connect with other hikers while getting to experience the vast mountain views. There are also enough towns along the way for resupplies and showers. The time needed to complete this hike would be a challenge though, so it must wait.
Oliver’s Honourable Mention: Since two of the Triple Crowns is on the list, I might as well add “why not the Continental Divide Trail?” It’s not NOT on the list… I think if we did the AT and the PCT, there would be a big draw to finish the Triple Crown… but it’s the longest of the three, it’s got the most road walking, and if we do the AZT and Colorado Trails, we will have already seen much of what it has to offer. So it would just be “to get the Triple Crown”.
Cheryl’s Honourable Mention:Te Araoa. It would be amazing to travel to New Zealand and thru hike, but the amount of money it would take to fly all the way there would be costly. Also, if we were to go to New Zealand, we are going to want to do more than just explore a trail, so there would be a lot of time and money involved in seeing as much as we can of what New Zealand has to offer. Also, I don’t want to do that much road walking. To me, a hike should be in the trees and not on paved roads.
Somehow writing this post slipped my mind for 3 years. Despite its importance in a number of ways – for one, I visited a bunch of times, and another – it was a critical part of our preparation for Section C of the Great Divide Trail. We spent most of 3 years in Cold Lake, AB and this was the longest and most accessible trail for us to hike locally.
During our time up there I always meant to thru-hike the trail. At 128km, it’s a nice length for a 4-5 day trip, though the trail is advertised as a 7 day trip. However, despite my shoes stepping on 90% of the trail, I never did get to do the thru-hike.
You can take a look at my previous post about how to book the Boreal Trail. However, since I wrote that post, they have released a better more current trail guide. It can be downloaded here. In my several trips out to it, I have learned that despite it feeling like it is administratively rigid, it is not. The park staff straight up told me that it’s fine to hike the trail, then retroactively pay for camp spots and such. This was as of 2022, so double check to see if they have tightened up the regulations.
Dec 2020. A little hoarfrost never hurt anyone…
On to my trips on the trail: first was a dayhike in the winter with a friend of mine. We wanted to do some “rucking” training, so we drove out to the park one Saturday with about 30lbs on our backs to walk the first 20km. We parked one car at one end and one at the other of the section we planned to do – the Cold River camp (BT1) to Sandy Beach, a frontcountry campsite on the trail. While on that walk we passed by BT2, a pretty little backcountry camping spot on a spit of land that juts out into Pierce Lake. It has a bear locker, elevated barbeque cooking spots, and several flat areas to pitch tents. It also has an adjacent “Green throne” privy set back from the camp.
My second trip was a spring overnight with one of my sons. We the the same route as the one I did in the winter, and camped at BT2 before hiking out to Sandy Beach, and the sunset was well worth it. Some swarms of mayflies liked the spot we pitched our tent, but that really was our only complaint. The way to Sandy Beach was more complicated in the spring than in the winter, as there was some beaver dam problems that flooded certain spots on the trail, but there was a way around.
My third trip was with the same son, another daytrip hike. We parked a little past Sandy Beach at the trailhead for Humphrey Lake and Humphrey Tower – the former location of a fire tower turned viewpoint on a knoll above the surrounding terrain. We hiked up to the tower site, skirting around one shore of Humphrey Lake, a little pond not really accessible for water (it’s swampy around the edges) but nice for waterfowl. The climb up the hill was brisk, and at the top, we were saddened to see that the tower had been burned down by vandals. But it was cleared in one direction, so we did have some nice views to enjoy a break at. We continued on to the narrows between Pierce Lake and Lapine Lake, where we had lunch before turning back to the car. On the return trip we did the other shore of Humphrey Lake which makes a nice little circle for dayhikers.
The remains of the tower, May 2021
My fourth trip to the park was another overnight with that same son. He was a trooper that year! This time we had our sights set on a backcountry site set back from the rest – if you are thru-hiking you’d probably skip it as it’s up on a spur trail north of the main route. We parked the car at Grieg Lake near the east end of the park, and hiked up to BT9 on Fourth Mustus Lake. We chose this site because we brought my dog, Watson with us and he was a little unpredictable with people (he was an SPCA rescue) so we wanted to have a campsite with nobody around. The trail was sandy and mostly easygoing, and once again we were treated with a beautiful camping spot.
Nemo Hornet 1P and Durston XMid 1P at 4th Mustus Lake, May 2021
At that time (2021) there was no privy at that campground, and the picnic table was in bad repair but there was a working bear locker. But the tent sites were glorious and roomy, and we never saw another soul. We spent the evening after supper exploring some game trails on the north side of the lake, then tried to put the dog to bed. He didn’t go down easy, refusing to sleep in the vestibule. He ended up being off leash all night, and patrolled around us while we slept. Around midnight something got his attention because he bolted off barking at something, but he never left earshot and returned after being satisfied that whatever it was was not coming back. Glad there was nobody else there to be disturbed by him! Lesson learned.
Crossing the creek on the way to 4th Mustus Lake, May 2021
My fifth trip was again with that same son, and we were aiming to do the whole trail. We started at Cold River this time, and once again camped at BT2. The next day we pushed pretty hard, and made it to BT3 by midafternoon. We could have gone further but the clouds had socked us in and the wind was blowing, and rain was beginning to make us miserable, so we set up our tents and hoped that the rain would slacken for some soggy dinner. The camping was down a rise next to the river, and the dinner spot with a firepit was at the top of the rise by the trail – so was the bear locker. After warming up a bit we came out and had an early dinner, but the weather was still miserable so we just hunkered down early for the night.
Supper at BT2, Pierce Lake, late May 2021
The next morning dawned sunny and nice, to the point where we could get a better sense of the place. It was an old forest fire clearing formed in 2011. The wind affected us because there were few large trees to break the wind. The river was quite nice though, and we took some snaps of a half dozen or so white pelicans who were punting around the rocks in the stream. Then we pushed on.
Campsite at BT3 before the rain hit, from the eating plance. Bear locker just off camera to the left. Late May 2021
Sadly, my son’s feet were not as conditioned as mine to long trail days. By the time we pulled up in BT4 on Lac Des Iles he was pretty out of gas. We took a long break sunning ourselves on the functionally private beach there (Highly recommend this camp for a stop!) and then tried pushing on. We got to Murray Doell frontcountry camp (in the middle of another burn, so hot and sunny also beat us down) and then shortly after, we made it out to a road crossing and made the decision to call for an extraction. Still, got to see a lot of the park, and good quality time with my boy.
Beach at BT4 on Lac des Iles – contemplating sore feet and solitude. Late May 2021
My sixth trip to the trail was in the training runup for our Great Divide Trail Section C trip. At this time my wife had decided to accompany me, but we needed to prepare her. So first order of business was to test her feet and our big four with an overnight. We selected a start at Jack Pine and hike into BT7 on the Waterhen River. We pitched my newly acquired, slightly used Durston XMid 2P above the river at sunset and it was lovely. The campsite had treed or open grassy field options, good fishing spots on the river, and well kept Bear Lockers. The trail used to go from BT7 east to the chalet and then north, but north of the chalet they had some beaver flooding issues, so they elected to close that part of the trail.
BT7 on Waterhen River, August 2021.
The following date we pushed for a longer day, crossing Mistohay Creek (nice views), passing the visitor center, and continuing on past BT5 to the Gold Creek area. There was some gravel roadwalking in this section, and the hot August sun beat down on us pretty ferociously. We had to hunt for water a few times in the drier stretches. Towards the end of our time in between the Murray Doell and BT5 area, it was quite hilly and nice. But we decided to call the trip there, almost connecting to where my son had left the trail on the previous trip.
Crossing the Mistohay, August 2021
All told, I probably got to see 80% of the trail, and the only significant backcountry stretch I didn’t get to hike was from Jack Pine to Kimball Lake area – most of the rest was roadwalk I was not sorry to miss.
I’d call it a well kept, well maintained set of trails for the most part, with well appointed campsites, though they frown on random camping. The challenge level is not Rocky Mountains, but there are hilly sections, and I’d definitely call it a good early season warmup hike, or late season final go before the snow flies. It is hikeable by May, and can still be done well into the fall (though make sure you hike in blaze orange in the fall!) If you’re in AB/SK, it’s definitely worth the trip!
Looking east from the top of Table Mountain (2018)
Before the longer trips, our children were young. We had neither the types of jobs nor the ambition of some of these homeschooling families who I have heard about hiking the big trails in the USA. But passion for hiking was not going to be denied. So, I sought out hikes in the Rockies I could do with my sons as they grew up. One of the earliest I discovered was Table Mountain, just behind Pincher Creek in southern Alberta.
Perched on the south side of the pass entrance with commanding views of the transition from Rockies to foothills to plains, I was excited to get up there. I had heard of others who took kids up, so I figured it was attainable. Turns out I was in for some surprises.
The trail starts from Beaver Mines Lake Campground. It starts out fairly nicely, then begins some steep undulations as you get your start around the back shoulder of the peak. The draw that the trail follows has a little creek at the bottom but you aren’t really near it until you reach the “good parts”. A couple of kms in they start! The trail becomes more of a scramble as you ascend some very rocky areas to get to a winding switchback over scree. Some people descend by sliding down the scree. I do not recommend scree shortcuts uphill! It’s hard enough!
The boys ascend. Steep parts ahead! (2012)The dead tree once gave shade… (2012)
After ascending the very steep bit (for quite some time) the trail becomes a more gradual ascent and very dry. Bring water, you’ll be hot and need it. A cool skeleton of a tree hangs over the trail as the only memory of a time when this path had shade. Finally, as you come over the lip to the table area, you will see low scrubby trees in bunches and a couple of makeshift rocky walls to hide behind if you come up on blustery days. I am pretty sure on the second trip I spotted a bear den in the scrubby trees… I didn’t crawl in to check.
The first ascent I took my three oldest boys when they were still in single digits (2012). They complained of course on the steep bits but it made good memories. The second ascent several years later (2018) I took my youngest (twins) and a teenage friend of the family. We ascended in the afternoon, and got some stunning pictures from the top of the sun making its way closer to the line of mountains to the west. But the biggest treat was the descent: when we made it past the steep bit, the remainder of the descent was pointed right at the sunset and made for some of the best photos I have ever taken.
Almost to the top… (2012)
All in all, I really liked the mix of terrain and the challenge that the trail gives – enough to make you earn the summit but not enough to stop you. Bring adventurous children who are up for a challenge – this hike isn’t for city kids! But even if you don’t have little folks, it’s a great spot for anyone. I seem to recall a marriage proposal on one of our hikes up here!
The Twins enjoying a sunset on the way down (2018). This isn’t even the best shot I took.
After our go at the Gros Morne Traverses, we found ourselves a little worn out of rugged, wild, barely-there trails. Especially when said routes cross bogs and other such fun things. We began to talk about our next adventure, and how our current locale has a very long winter (even for Canada). Wouldn’t it be nice to get in an early season hike, before the snow melts? Not on snowshoes! Sorry, I have done a little winter camping, enough to know that ultralight and winter don’t mix well – at least not in Canada!
A unique quality to the military life is the end of fiscal year. At that point our annual leave rolls over to a new year, and all of a sudden we have more. Some people have attempted to “save” their annuals from one year until the end of fiscal, so they can add them to leave days borrowed from the next year to create a mega-trip. It worked out for us to do that this year! So with a big chunk of time available, we began to look for a “fair weather” destination.
We looked at the Pinhoti Trail, the first few hundred miles on the Appalachian Trail, the Florida Trail, Ozark Highlands, the Lone Star, and even the PCT up to San Jacinto. (There were more shorter trails too). But none of them sat quite right. I liked the idea of a desert hike over a forest hike where the leaves haven’t come out yet. So we looked again at the beginnings of the PCT and I also threw out a question on the Arizona Trail subreddit: what’s the best stretch of passages to do if you only have a couple weeks?
The answer was “Vail to Superior”. So we watched some videos. And some more. And it started growing on my hiking partner. Over Christmas break we pulled the trigger on some flights and now we are set! We will be on trail over Easter, enjoying the sunny days of Arizona! This will be our longest trip yet – our previous longest trip was 11 days of hiking on the Great Divide Trail. This one we will be on trail 16-18 days (I built in some flex into our plan, depending on how we are handling the altitude and such). The plan is to cover over 186 miles. Given the choice between this or a standard all-inclusive in Mexico like many friends and family like to do, we much prefer this plan!
But here’s the best part: previously we snapped a lot of pictures, but we never really did video. This time, we have invested in a little videography equipment, and my wonderful partner will get to put to use her long dormant cinematography skills (she used to have a vlog on YouTube a dozen years ago). So keep watch for video once we get on trail!
The final day. We would get a lovely restaurant meal when we got out. But there was the small matter of getting out. And contrary to popular wisdom, downhill isn’t always easier.
The morning started with a ford across a complicated creek with many pools and holes. I managed to find a very good track crossing first ahead of the two other groups we shared camp with. The ones that followed me did well. The others… did not.
Picking their way across the ford
Then a bracing climb up to Upper Green Island Pond camp. Breezy and exposed, with a long trek to water. We made the right choice the night before. The terrain rolling away from this point was up and down, over exposed rock with few mudholes. We made good time.
We stopped for a break at the Bakeapple Viewpoint, which looks down on Ten Mile Gulch, another fjord that had been silted in until it was a lake. Quite breathtaking if not quite as breathtaking as Western Brook Pond.
As Gros Morne rounded into view, we began to see the drop into Ferry Gulch campground was going to be steep. Very steep. Despite the strength of the trail (it saw a good amount of traffic because dayhikers would come up from Ferry Gulch to Bakeapple Pond viewpoint), the steep inclines and lack of good handholds going down made it quite challenging, especially after 6 long, taxing days. We took our time picking our way down to Ferry Gulch, reaching there around 2pm. The well established and maintained trail up Gros Morne on the other side of the gulch seemed covered with ants, as we watched the dayhikers taking on the mountain. A couple of times we recognized our former campmates giving it a try. But clouds were forming, and we were tired so we elected not to go for the peak.
At the top of the drop. Gros Morne is on the right.
And it was a good thing we didn’t. The trail down to the parking lot from Ferry Gulch felt much longer than it looked on a map. It went on forever. The first 5km was brutal – it was a trail, but not gravelled – more like broken out of the stone into fragments. We traversed several scree fields, and footing was treacherous often with shifting rocks under our feet. At least it was dry…
Finally arriving at Ferry Gulch. The camp was on the far end of the lake – I’d call it a front-backcountry campground.
Finally the rocky footing subsided into gravelled trail. But that still stretched on for some time. The map says we did 14km today, but it felt like 18. The trail on the map was not the same that we walked, and I believe the reroute added 4km. The last 5km water was sprinkling out of the sky on us – so this experience began with some cloud and rain, and ended with cloud and rain – but because the 5 days in between were glorious and sunny, we cannot complain about that at all!
Too tired to celebrate…
A well deserved feast in Rocky Harbour was a fitting denouement to this trip. All told, with the many extra kms we logged getting off track then back on track, I am convinced we made this trek into one closer to 100km instead of 80. As I have said to many people, it was a once in a lifetime trip, and we loved it… but we NEVER want to do it again!
Rising early is my normal. I tended to get nice sunrise photos of our campsites.
On this day we would be making for Green Island Pond. There is an upper and a lower campsite we would have to choose from. But that was later.
First, to leave Mark’s Pond we had to cross a swift, rocky creek. Cold feet first thing in the morning wasn’t as bad as we had feared – and we scouted a crossing for our friends to follow. But they hiked much faster than us so they quickly left us behind.
We went up and down several lovely passes. The views to the interior were beautiful. If I didn’t know they were covered in swamps I would have called them idyllic. But I didn’t have to walk there so I enjoyed the views.
The walking was once again much easier. I began a streak on this day where I did not get my socks wet again for the rest of the traverse. Now, my wife thought I was nuts because I would skirt widely around wet boggy spots that she would slog through. I probably added at least 1km to my distance on the day from all my extra steps. But I had dry feet and I think that was worth it.
The group of young fellows from the States caught up and passed us. Several times. They took long breaks but pushed hard when they were moving. They ploughed through the sloppiest bogs – they had totally given up keeping their feet dry. black mud all up their legs, they were just going hard. With higher amounts of traffic, it was easier to guess where the traverse went, but at the same time, we found a couple of instances where the “good” track went off in the wrong direction from many people making the same mistake in trusting the tracks in front of them.
We enjoyed this day’s walk until the very end, just before Green Island Pond. There was a steep draw down to the lower campsite by a wide creek crossing. We had been warned about this place by the guide who briefed us before we started – she told us “stick to the wooded draw. Don’t take the cliff!”
We took the cliff.
We found out after the trail that we would have had to backtrack at least 1 km to find the wooded draw once we were at the cliff. But the cliff is so tempting, because from there you can see the campsite just below you. Tantalizingly close. But it’s stupid hard to get down.
You either have to jump about 9 feet down the cliff onto a muddy spot about 1 foot deep, and if you lose your balance, you’re tumbling down a steep muddy bank for another 20 feet and probably getting scratched and stabbed by the bushes growing there. OR you traverse across the cliff, to a point where a spring leaks down the cliff, cross over that slimy surface without falling, to reach a muddy step down that avoids the cliff. Your only assistance is a 10 foot piece of paracord someone tied to a slender tree.
We made it across, but it was a dispiriting end to the day. Down in the campsite, all the pads were taken by the vanlifers and the young men, but we found a mostly dry, mostly level bit of ground and pitched up.
We could have had a tent pad, we would find out the next day, but we would have had to cross the creek in the evening, when we were tired, then climb a steep hill. And when we got there the only water access was to go down another steep hill to Green Island Pond itself. We made the right choice. This would be our last night on the trail.
Total Distance: 14km
Total Ascent/Descent: 2-300m ascent/descent
Day 7 – Lower Green Island Pond to Gros Morne Trailhead
After the difficulty of yesterday, I briefly considered whether we should hike down to the boat launch and call it a trip. But my wife does not go half way. She’s all in. She said she was finishing this, and besides, the rest of the way would be on the Long Range Traverse, which by all accounts is easier than the Northern.
One last view of Gilley’s Pond as we climbed into the treesIf you know what kind of bird this is let me knowThe pile of bones
And she was right. The morning started out tough with a stiff climb out of Gilley Pond through thick bush but the trail was clear at least. Then it was up and down a couple more draws, a creek crossing, but thankfully no more real tuckamore. Lots of interesting sights though. A strange bird family hanging out by the trail, and down in a copse of trees by the trail was a little lair with a pile of moose bones. I wonder if a wolfpack had used it as a den.
And then we arrived at “the viewpoint”. The place where everyone wants a picture.
And it was stunning.
Proof I didn’t just steal the above image from a stock photos site…
There have only been two occasions in my life where I have looked out over a natural wonder, and thought to myself, “This doesn’t look real. This can’t be real. It is too beautiful to be real.” One was here at the east end of Western Brook Pond. The other was at the Grand Canyon. That’s the scale of epicness.
We lunched at that viewpoint, and rested in the knowledge that at long last, the Northern Traverse was done. Now, on to the easy part.
And it was easier. The path was clearer, the swamps were less common. The tuckamore became infrequent to the point where when it did appear, it was a refreshing interlude. The campsites were more frequent. We cruised through the first one (Little Island Pond) with a 30 minute break to snack and sit on a dry tent platform, and pushed on to the second one: Mark’s Pond. Somewhere in this stretch we had a short muddy descent. My wife jammed her trekking pole in too deep and bent it in half. I gave up one of mine to her and used the bent one the rest of the way as I didn’t need steadying as often.
Littel Island Pond. Walking along that rock face that drops straight into the lake was interesting.
Coming into Mark’s was interesting because there was a wide flat swamp to navigate and tracks of those before us went everywhere. It was unclear what the “official” route was. Because most of the day had not needed it, I had gotten out of the habit of referring to my GPS constantly. So we fumbled around a bit, until we finally found tracks into camping spots.
Switched to blue to show our travel on the LRT because the underlying line was red.
Mark’s has no wooden tent pads. But dry tent sites are plentiful. We found one by the lakeshore with a convenient log to sit on and hang socks off to dry. It was a bit of a walk to find the bear locker and the toilet, but we managed. Another couple, a retired couple who were vanlifing, camped next to us. We really enjoyed their company. They told us a group of young men were behind them, so we would probably see them sooner or later. We settled in for the night, resting much easier.
Total Distance: 16km. That’s how much easier the LRT is compared to the NT.
Total Ascent/Descent: probably around 300m.
Day 6 – Mark’s Pond to Lower Lower Green Island Pond
Day 7 – Lower Green Island Pond to Gros Morne Trailhead
The following days was likewise perfect weather – partly cloudy and warm but not hot. We hoped against hope the Tuckamore was behind us. It was not to be. There were stretches where the going was easy and we were able to pick our way over stony stretches. But there was a lot more up and down today. And worse: the tuckamore we encountered lined the walls of the valleys we traversed! Now we had to fight the tuckamore up or downhill! And when you can’t even see where to put your feet… it was less hiking and more pulling and pushing.
The highlands, where the tuckamore opened into rock-strewn clearings, were covered in berries. low-bush cranberries (locally called partridgeberries), bakeapples (cloudberries to some) and blueberries – millions of blueberries. There is a reason the bears are no trouble up here – they are full of berries! More accessible and less trouble than any hiker’s lunch!
Steep look down on a tuckamore slope
I neglected to mention just how thick and violent the tuckamore was. On the second day as we climbed the headland, at one point I passed a pair of women’s underwear hanging on a branch. We saw a couple coming down on day 1, before we reached Snug Harbour. My guess it was theirs. It must have been drying on the outside of her pack and the branches stripped it clean off without her realizing. We ourselves had brought a small tripod to use with our phones – we arrived in camp this evening with only the phone clamp still attached to my wife’s pack. The rest had been ripped off somewhere in the tangle. We hadn’t even noticed. Brutal stuff. If you come this way, do not keep anything tied to the outside of your pack. You will lose it.
Resting on a steep climb up
I wish I could show you a picture that did justice to the terrain we crossed on this day. It would just look like thick bush. You wouldn’t be able to see the ground standing like a wall behind it and having to pull myself up it by inches. Or the ground dropping away at other times, and I would find myself walking on branches suspended far from the ground, wondering where the GPS line was, because anything had to be easier than this. I’d find some easy walking, then realize I was 50, 100m off the track. Then I’d have to backtrack.
Finally, as the sun began to make its descent, the ground fell away on a steep grassy slope, and a lake was at the bottom – our lake! The next campsite was visible on its shores on a wide open dry grassy area. Signage was clear – there was a toilet there too! The bear locker looked in good repair! I began to rejoice.
Gilley Pond is the one at the back. The steep slippery slope is before my feet in this shot. You can see a bit of a track… at the bottom. But not on the slope before me.
But then we looked at the slippery, narrow, muddy, slick, grass-covered track that others had used to get down this hill. And with tired, aching muscles, we tried to make it down. It was painfully slow. Especially since this slippery track traversed the top of a 50 foot cliff. We picked our way down that hill over the course of an hour, at our slowest pace yet. The sun was fully setting as we shambled into the shockingly flat, dry campsite. No wood platforms needed – it was big enough and flat enough to accommodate a dozen tents. And the ground was loamy and great for tent pegs. The tent went up in a flash and we settled in with a lovely view down another lake which fell away directly into the Western Brook fjord.
This is what is known on the Northern Traverse as the “Tuckamore Day”. Newfoundland is famous for low scrubby black spruce bunches, twisted and bent by deep snowpack and howling winds. This type of forest is rarely taller than 8 feet, and often around 5 feet or less. But the height means nothing. It is DENSE. It is tangled and vicious and it snags on everything, pulls on everything, it cuts bare legs and scratches legs in pants. And up top on the Traverses of Gros Morne, there are many many patches of Tuckamore to navigate through.
We actually hit the first bunches of them on Day 2 but they were relatively minor. On this day we would be fighting them all day long. The GPS track we were assigned was our only guide most of the time, as the “trail” would fade in and out of sight. And when the track let to Tuckamore, it was a misery trying to spot where the bush would give way to a slightly more passable tangle than the untouched parts. It would not be a trail or an opening we would be looking for – just a slightly less dense passage. And because GPS is typically only accurate to 2-4m, we could be standing right next to the right path and not even see it.
Our camp to start the day. The fog was lifting. Note the Tuckamore on three sides of our tent.
But to our experience. Up reasonably early, the headland was socked in with swirling fog. We had been warned that fog could sock in so hard we might have to wait hours for it to clear. But thankfully, the fog began to clear before 9am. It was thin enough that we could get going. And it burned off before an hour or two passed, giving way to a beautiful sunny day.
That was good, because as I said, the navigation was hard. My wife managed to find a soft spot in the swamp and sank one leg up to her thigh. I hit a spot before long too. We desperately hoped we would see Triangle Lake, the first established campground in the direction we were going. It was only 7km away, but it was a fight. Still, when we would climb a rise, the views of the surrounding hills, especially the distant views of the fjord, were breathtaking.
Triangle Lake in the distance. The rocky opening you can see on the left. Looks tempting doesn’t it?
Finally we glimpsed the lake. It glistened bright blue in the distance. I saw a rocky draw that pointed the way to the lake and celebrated – rocks would be simple to navigate compared to the tuckamore. But it turned out that wasn’t true for my wife. Her balance was not as good as mine, and so we climbed over each and every boulder one at a time, until finally reaching the campsite around 3pm.
Tired feet in cold water.
The campsite had seen better days. There were three wooden tent pads in various states of disrepair. There was a bear storage locker, but it looked like someone landed a helicopter on it. All our literature said there was a toilet here, but we never did find it. The most sheltered, dry, flat tent pad there had a nice piece of sod dug out and replaced – someone used it as the toilet. Still sunning ourselves on the unused wooden pads in a fork in the little creek that bisected the camp was glorious. There were no bugs there which was amazing. We soaked tired feet in the cold creek water and contemplated taking a swim in the lake. The lake and stream were very cold and the sun was nice but not quite hot enough to overcome our fear of the chilly water.
The sun allowed us to dry out wet shoes and socks, and wet tent from the night before. It definitely increased morale! We began to look forward to the next day where we hoped to get all the way to famous viewpoint.
Ups and downs and battles and swamps – oh my!
Distance: ~7km officially, 15km according to my Garmin
