Waterton Lakes National Park: A little gem of a place

May 25, 2016

I just knew that today was going to be one of those really great days, one of those special 'visit-an-awesome-place' days, almost from the moment that I woke up. And that was because I opened up my tent in the morning to a view of genuine breathtaking magnificence. I was greeted by the sight of that wonderful row of white mountains again, even more stunning now with the early-morning sun shining upon them. I packed up quickly and headed for them, keen to make the most of my time at Waterton.

The wind was strong against me as I cycled, but that was okay because it was only ten kilometres before I entered the National Park. A cycle path beside the only road now led me past the first lakes and into the mountains until I arrived at Waterton village. A small settlement of chalets and hotels, this place served as the base for the relatively few tourists who make it to this slightly out-of-the-way National Park. I had no great reason to stop, other than to fill my water bottles and eat some breakfast.

I chose a bench opposite a picturesque waterfall to do this. Almost the very second that I sat down upon this bench with my food an extremely audacious chipmunk advanced upon me and darted quickly from the ground to my foot and up my leg until it was sitting on my lap as bold as brass. It was obviously quite used to people and had absolutely no fear of me at all. I thought it was great, even as it made desperate attempts at getting to my peanut butter sandwiches, and I decided I'd grab Kevin, my cuddly toy koala, and try and set them up together for a humorous photo shoot. That didn't really work, the chipmunk being not as into hanging out with cuddly toys as me, and I soon returned Kevin to his position in my front right pannier and returned to the bench. In all the chaos, however, Kevin had got a bit of peanut butter on his head, and I watched in some dismay as the chipmunk scuttled over to him, now with suddenly a great deal of interest, and began to lick him clean. Sorry Kevin.

I locked up my bike near to the waterfall, at the trailhead for Bertha Lake, being very careful to close my food pannier very securely, and began on the hike. It was a beautiful sunny day and I was really looking forward to this chance to get off the bike and do some walking. The trail climbed slowly at first, through beautiful mountain scenery. Brightly coloured wild flowers brightened up the route further. There were a fair few other hikers on this first section, up until we reached a waterfall. Beyond that the path now climbed steeply up several switchbacks, and not very many people continued beyond the waterfall. Now I had the trail and the scenery very much to myself for about an hour until I reached my goal of Bertha Lake. It had been worth the effort – a beautiful lake surrounded by snow high in the mountains.

I loved this tree and in fact used it to sit on and take a break

I tried to walk around the lake but I was soon beaten back by snow still several feet deep, and so I settled for sitting on some rocks beside the water and admiring it. As I was doing so I noticed more chipmunks darting about amongst the rocks and I set to the task of getting a good photo of one of them. They were very entertaining little creatures to watch and I easily spent half an hour doing so.

On the way back down the weather began to move in. As I got back past the waterfall and towards the safety of the village some very dark clouds were rolling in and the low rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. From this and the change in atmosphere it was very obviously going to rain very hard soon and I began to jog the rest of the way to get to safety. It was amazing to me to see the number of tourists who were continuing to go the other way, hiking up the trail in shorts and t-shirt, seemingly oblivious to the surely very obvious fact that they were about to get caught in a thunderstorm on an exposed mountain trail.

I reached my bike and hurried to unlock it and get into the village, pausing only to admire some bighorn sheep in the car park. I'd also seen some in the village earlier and these were clearly animals that had adapted, much like the chipmunk earlier, to coexist quite happily with humans. But there was no time to waste, the rain was on its way any minute. I cycled into the centre of Waterton and rushed to find somewhere to shelter. To my great annoyance a friendly man saw me and said “Hey, where are you from?” as if he wanted to stop and chat in the middle of the street. Were people really so unaware of the weather, how it changed, what was about to happen? Or had I just become super-aware of it after spending the last six years outside? Either way I wasn't stopping, not there, so I said “England” and I carried right on going. I soon found what I was looking for, a sheltered area with benches, and I made myself comfortable just as the deluge began.

There's a time and a place, and this is clearly neither

Yeah standing around chatting would have been nice, but I'm glad I hurried for the shelter

The rain was torrential, a veritable monsoon, and I spent a couple of hours on that bench which fortunately at least had access to a wifi connection. It was a shame that this weather had arrived, as I had hoped to spend the afternoon doing more hikes and enjoying my time in what was clearly a very special little gem of a National Park. Unfortunately the weather didn't want to play ball, and the forecast showed that the rain would continue all day, albeit less forcefully. So when it did begin to ease off I cycled out of Waterton and headed for the prairies. Before too long I'd left the cloud-covered mountain peaks behind and watched as they disappeared behind me as I rolled out towards the flat grasslands that now stretched ahead of me for a couple thousand kilometres.

With the wind now at my back I made good progress and reached the fairly big town of Cardston by evening. There had been nowhere to camp in the fence lined open fields, a problem that seemed like it would continue every evening for the foreseeable future, and so I turned my attention to urban wild camping. I wasn't quite prepared to follow Vivian's lead and pitch my tent in the front of a gas station forecourt just yet, however. So after a thorough scouting around the town I found a good spot behind some trees on a wide footpath where nobody seemed to walk. It was a decent spot, and a good end to a nice day. But Waterton had definitely been the last of the mountains, and a new challenge lay ahead.

Today's ride: 85 km (53 miles)
Total: 50,164 km (31,152 miles)

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