Pickle Jar Lakes
This is our summer of Kananaskis. We have intentionally avoided the hotspots in Banff National Park to focus on hikes that are much less crowded and every bit as beautiful. Our travel time is a bit longer but well worth the effort.
Wildflowers along the trail.
Last week, Dave and I decided on a hike that would challenge our endurance both in length (about nine miles) and elevation (2,350ft). After a little research, we chose Pickle Jar Lakes. The only negative—BUGS. Reportedly lots of mosquitoes and black flies. No worries, it was nothing that a lot repellent couldn’t take care of.
What’s with the name Pickle Jar? Supposedly, ”the fishing there is so good, you can catch them with a pickle jar.” Really. Just make sure you don’t eat them—the trout are catch and release only.
Our initial ascent was through beautiful aspens.
We hit the trail around 9am, and our climb started immediately. The narrow path took us through aspen and spruce to steep grassy hillsides. The Sound of Music came to mind (as it always does}.
We could see for miles.
The narrow trail wove through the grassy hillside.
Headed towards the col.
A series of switchbacks took us to the base of a col between a mountain peak and another hill. From there we hiked up the west ridge, which was narrow, rocky and really, really steep.
The first lake from the top of the hill.
At the top, we could see the first lake. Thank God. But first, we had to make our way down a scree slope. And we had to climb UP that scree on the way back. Argh.
Outlet from the first lake.
Ok. It wasn’t quite as bad as I thought it would be and the first lake was beautiful. After catching our breath, we scrambled up another hill towards the third lake. We sat on some rocks and enjoyed lunch. Aside from a couple of guys fishing, we had the place to ourselves.
The third of four lakes.
It is incredible what a peanut butter sandwich can do. The perfect food. We skipped viewing the fourth lake, opting to stop at the second lake on the way back. Dave heard some grouse in the brush and went to investigate. It was a mom and her chicks.
Mama spruce grouse.
The tiny three-inch babies were extremely hard to photograph in the deep grass.
The second lake was pretty also, albeit small. Our little detour also avoided a scree slope, which at the time was an added bonus.
Small waterfall between the second and first lake.
What goes down must come up—as in Dave and I. By this time, every hill we encountered was exhausting. The mosquitoes had dissipated somewhat thanks to warmer temperatures. Within a couple of hours, we were in the Jeep, homeward bound.
Trail back to the col.
Back home, duty called. Luci and Dota were wound up, awaiting their walk. We always alternate as to who gets to climb the three flights of stairs to get them. After nine miles and 2,350 feet in elevation, plus an additional hour in the Jeep, it is difficult to move much at all.
Dota and Lucia wanted a WALK.
We met our challenge that day. And we celebrated with Motrin.