Scrambles & Rambles

Linda’s Scrambles & Rambles

Mt. Hawkins ~ Sept 25, 2005

WATERTON, ALBERTA

Summit: 2,695m (8,841') Approx. additional elevation Gain: 140m Total distance (with Blakiston): 20 km Total time: 11:57

Quick rambles:

· Hawkins gives you an excellent view into the States, and across the Continental Divide towards BC.

· A classic Waterton red rock summit.

· We descended via the Tamarack Trail.

· Sonny did the entire trip drug-free (i.e.. no ibuprofen)! I did not.

The good kind of suffering - Part II

After a hasty retreat from the icy reception on Mt Blakiston’s summit, Sonny and I stopped just below the summit ridge in a sheltered area. I had that disappointed, turned-back feeling despite just bagging the highest peak in Waterton. I thought I would ask Sonny again about our decision. Maybe it wasn’t our decision, maybe it was mine. I had extra clothes in my pack; I should be able to withstand that kind of cold.

Upon questioning Sonny if this was what he really wanted, he immediately replied that he wished to continue on to Hawkins. The guy’s tough alright. I was glad to hear his response, and excited to continue on even though I wasn’t sure if we’d freeze or not. Just keep moving, I thought. I know I would probably not continued on by myself but having company to share the epic with makes all the difference. We both raced to throw on all the extra layers we had, and ascended back into the polar winds of the ridge.

In the distance, Sonny was small dark figure against the snow of the ridge. The wind lashed hard at my right side. My face was numb. I had a mental flash of my winter face mask lying on a shelf at home. Aarggh! I kept moving quickly to keep the heat coming. At least the scenery was great at this point. I distracted myself from the discomfort and thoughts of frostbite by taking plenty of photos.

Descending onto the lower elevations of the ridge, we discovered we had passed through the worst of the deep freeze. While still windy, it was noticeably warmer. We made good time along the ridge, as so far it had only involved walking. Reaching a blocky section, we scrambled the right side to pass around it. Beyond this section, there was one more highpoint to cross before the final slog up Hawkins itself.

The highpoint looked...high. I guess we both were exhausted. We opted to traverse the slope in hopes of attaining the col on the other side without gaining needless elevation. At first this was fairly easy, crossing calf deep snow fields. But the slopes steepened, and the snow hardened. We pulled out the axes and began a traverse of a seriously inclined snow slope with cliffs at its base. The snow was supportive in the steps Sonny made, I carefully followed in them. I looked down the slope to the edge a couple times, and I swear it reminded me of a bad dream I had earlier in the year. I hoped it wasn’t premonitory.

Once at the col, I had a rush of energy (adrenaline anyone?). I raced ahead to keep the pace up. The sun was already getting low; never having walked in the dark forest before, I was a little leery of it. Sonny soon passed me once the grade steepened. I trudged slowly for the last several yards to the red rock capped summit.

Again the views were outstanding! The white peaks of the US were now more visible, as were the Continental Divide mountains and those of BC. Low sun angle created sunrays through the clouds which had started to move in.

I began to pick up speed on descent from the summit. A field of pristine firm snow lay on the gentle slope and the sun shone directly on it and in my eyes. Distant mountains faded progressively into lighter shades of blue at the horizon. I started to run down the slope, laughing out loud as I was overcome with an intense feeling of joy. This was the world I loved, and I could feel it all around me. What else could I want for here? :)

Darkness

Wow, my feet really ached. Not just my feet, but my ankles. And my legs. Actually, it went a lot higher than that. Directly in front of my aching feet was a cornice, beneath that a cliff band. Far below the cliff band, in a deep valley was a winding trail. To my right was a small, though interesting unnamed peak with a stick in its summit. The howling wind was coming from that direction. To my left was the highpoint in Lineham Ridge. That’s where we were supposed to access the Tamarack trail, the same trail taunting us from the valley floor now.

We had two choices - gain back the elevation we had lost to rejoin the ridge top, or scramble the cliff band through the small cornice. Well, the choice was obvious...who wants to regain elevation? Sonny walked along the edge of the snow where it hopefully still met rock. His left leg suddenly dropped through to his hip. This made me gasp as his right leg was the one closest to the vast valley. He quickly pulled himself out and carried along. Finding a shorter break in the band we scrambled down to the rubble at its base, and stopped for a snack, finally out of the hurricane.

Temperature: +4C. The sun was setting. We had an unknown distance back to the Rowe Lakes trailhead, and another unknown km’s walk down the highway to Lineham Falls trailhead and my car. Well, I could have pulled out my map and checked all those stats, but I was beyond tired and just walking seemed like a better option. All I could think was how happy I was to be out of that wind.

We scooted down a not entirely pleasant gully to attain the trail, and began the plod back. With dusk settling in, this plod involved much whooping and hollering, as well as my natural defense, laughter, to scare off any potential bears in the area. A great distance passed in dim light through the forest, and eventually I was forced to turn my headlamp on, after several clumsy stumbles over roots and rocks. Light levels were probably less to blame than the fact that I was now shuffling down the trail rather than walking.

The long walk in the dark passed quickly with Sonny’s cheerful company. I would have been pretty nervous about doing that walk by myself. While the trees were saturated with deep black, the sky above was illuminated with countless stars. It was truly spectacular, and inspired an interesting conversation about the universe. My headlamp caught another flash of light in the distance, the car! Even though it had cost me $500 in the past week, I was overjoyed to see its dark form in the parking lot.

Making sure we didn’t leave anything on the ground in our exhaustion, we packed into the car and tore off in pursuit of a real meal. No such luck. Everything was closed in Pincher Creek. We grabbed bags of chips in desperation, and raced to Claresholme with tater wedges on our minds. No such luck. While the neighboring bins were flush with greasy chicken and spring rolls, the tater wedges bin had that desolate and pillaged look to it. 7-11 pitas it was. ~

The turning point. Just down from Blakiston’s summit ridge, we make the decision to continue on to Mt Hawkins.

The wind is so bitter, my face and lips are frozen. Good thing there’s great scenery to distract me from the cold! Sonny is about halfway between me and the next highpoint.

Just about at the ‘summit’ of the first highpoint here.

Sonny decided to explore a mini nub off the highpoint.

A closeup of the mini nub.

Now that nub… that one’s mine! Too bad I don’t have time to bag it, it’s longer than it looks here.

So far so good. We’re about halfway, and it’s been easy ridge walking. Directly above Sonny is Mt. Hawkins.

Left: An example a ‘ripple rock’ (which I adore), ancient beach preserved in time. This one looks like fluted metal, almost manmade. Right: Not four feet away from it was this cool rock sword (complete with handle)! Good thing we didn't find a second one… You can see why scrambling with Sonny means a fun day out! (Mt. Hawkins in the background)

After some unexpected detours and scrambling, we encounter a steep snowslope. We very carefully crossed this, as tall cliffs lay at their base. You can see from the clouds, I tilted the camera in the wind, and made the slope look less steep than reality.

Sonny can relax now, since Hawkins finishes the Waterton section of Kane’s guidebook for him. Directly in line with his trekking pole is Mt. Blakiston.

Left: So tired now, every step takes effort. The sun is getting low, and it looks like we will be returning in the dark. Right: Staring ahead at this wonderful scene, I have a moment of euphoria.

Below: American beauties in the background of the last leg of our journey, near the Tamarack trail.