Adventures from Arizona to Alberta
Viewing entries tagged
HIKING
As we all know, the New Year is a time for reflection—a time for pulling out that list (from last year) full of want-to-dos and need-to-dos. In our household, celebratory lethargy has set in, thanks to bowl games accompanied by lots of food and drink.
Opportunities are like sunrises. If you wait too long, you miss them.—William Arthur Ward
Our reason for hiking the Grassi Lakes circuit was two-fold. A family of owls was known to be nesting in the cliffs above the lake and it was a beautiful day. With that in mind, Dave loaded up his camera gear and we set off on a photo safari.
Lower Grassi Lake
If there is one hike that appeals to all ages and levels of endurance, Grassi Lakes is it. The trail is about 2.7 miles roundtrip and offers an easy path (service road) and a not so easy path (along the edge) to the top. The lakes, waterfalls and a nearby mountain was named after Italian immigrant Lawrence Grassi—a miner, hiker, climber and master trail-builder. The trail was built by Grassi back in 1918, during a miner’s strike. He went on to build the Oesa trail at Lake O’Hara along with many others. A solitary man, he lived in an ivy-covered cabin by the Grassi trailhead, until his move to Bow Valley Regional Housing, where he lived to the ripe old age of 90.
Lower Grassi Lake.
As with most hikes around here, It pays to be early. We had both lakes mostly to ourselves for at least 45 minutes.
Lower Grassi Lake.
This hike never gets old. Reflections and jewel-like hues were magnified by the early morning light. The clarity was amazing. So much color in such an attainable venue—I can see why Grassi loved it so.
Upper Grassi Lake, looking for owls.
Nothing here but rocks…..
We headed to the upper lake was where the owls nest was located—a craggy cave nestled a steep rock face. Dave swiftly set up the camera and try-pod. He zoomed in and….NOTHING. Wait, wasn’t that the owl on the side of the cave? Nope, it was a ROCK. Dang. Our neighbors had seen them the week before, but for us, it was not to be.
We shrugged it off and continued down the mountain on the cliff side. This was Grassi’s original trail, consisting of steep stairways, flowing creeks, large smooth boulders and spectacular views..
We crept out on a narrow pathway off the main trail to get a closer look of the falls. So worth it.
We may have missed the owls that day, but that only gives us another reason to return.
Homeward bound.
I wouldn’t call Jura Creek a hike—I’d call it an adventure. Located by the Baymag plant on Highway 1A, the trailhead is far from ostentatious. In fact, it’s practically non-existent—the official site is currently under construction. That aside, Dave and I were pleasantly surprised. The real fun began about a quarter mile in at the mouth of the slot canyon.
The mouth of the canyon
This hike was more like an obstacle course through flowing water—consisting of scaling boulders, crossing deep pools on single logs and stepping cautiously from rock to rock. About a mile in, it became apparent to Dave and I that dry feet were not gonna happen.
A smooth piece of Jasper in the creek.
Jura creek was robust, thanks to recent snowmelt. We made our way through a maze of deep, narrow passageways, filled with pools and mini waterfalls. The high walls were cold and damp with sunlight just starting to find it’s way through the opening. Exquisite.
The canyon opened up into a large, rocky creek bed. As we progressed, the creek dried up and the hiking became a little tedious. It did however, give us plenty of time for our feet to dry.
Canyon’s end, nearing the creek bed.
Eventually, we came upon a huge headwall. Dave and I looked at each other, both wondering if we should try to scale it. Hmmm. On the right, super smooth stone that was pretty vertical. To the left, a wall of rock with a v-like formation. A stream of water was flowing down the center. Others have done this—right? Don’t we want to see what’s up there? What the heck. We chose the V.
To the top of the headwall.
In hindsight, it looked a lot harder to climb than it actually was. At the top were a series of pools captured in smooth white stone. We gazed down into deep crevices where the creek graced us with it’s reappearance.
Peering into the cracks.
The trail turned into a creek bed once more. For us, it was the perfect turn-around point. Our return trip was not nearly as graceful. I guess it never really is. We sloshed back through the running creek with reckless abandon, the canyon then filled with sunlight and warmth.
Jura Creek is a well-hidden gem. Selfishly, we both kinda hope it stays that way.
