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Wednesday — September 2 / Part I
What a difference a storm makes! We had the best day of our trip today — partly because the air was crystal clear with no evidence of smoke-haze. Of course, that wasn’t apparent when we left the cabin at 7:00a — it was still dark then. But the difference was evident once the sun came up. Even now, blogging on the porch in the early evening, the view is the clearest it has been since we arrived 6 days ago. Hard to believe we have only one full day left before we head back to Edmonton. But I’m not going to think about that now.
When we left the cabin this morning, it was 53F (12C) — the warmest morning temperature since our arrival. That did not last long. By the time we were at the Path of the Glacier/Cavell Meadows parking lot, the temperature was down to 46F (8C). It got progressively colder as we made our way over to the lake at the foot of Angel Glacier. Bundled up in layers, we didn’t mind the nip in the air.
Our initial plan was to hike the 7.5-mile (12 km) Cavell Meadows loop. Several things contributed to the change of plans. One — we knew the wildflowers were past their peak. Two — we lost all sense of time as we played around the lake and scrambled over the lateral moraine. Believe me — no regrets! We’re totally happy with the four fantastic hours we spent doing what we did. And to top it off — for two of those four hours, we were virtually the only ones there. Yes, there was one other couple, but our paths never crossed. By the time the crowds started to show up around 10:00a, we were atop the lateral moraine. I’m surprised no one joined us up there, but hey — we’re not complaining.
The red line is the paved path; the green line is the path we created for ourselves by scrambling up and along the lateral moraine.
The paved path to the glacier offered a slightly elevated view of our surroundings. Each shift of the path laid before our eyes an increasingly better view of the scenery until we finally came face to face with total grandeur at the edge of the lake.
From this ...
… to this.
(Edith Cavell glacier is at the edge of the lake; Angel Glacier is hanging from the face of the mountain)
I've read that rising a vertical mile from the valley floor, Mount Edith Cavell is very impressive just on its own merits. We didn’t get to see the entire mountain, however, as the top was covered by clouds. The mountain was named for a British nurse who refused to leave her post when Brussels fell to the Germans in WWI. She cared for the wounded on both sides and helped more than 200 allied soldiers to escape before she was charged with espionage and executed by a firing squad in 1915.
Now take an impressive mountain and decorate it with glaciers — Angel and Edith Cavell being the most spectacular ones — and you have a real “wow” view. We were enthralled; we were speechless.
Have to take advantage of this spectacular setting for a photo op.
We played at the edge of the lake, photographing the scenery from every angle; we climbed on top of rocks, we stretched out on the ground to find the best vantage points. With each change in the light, we were prompted to take more pictures. More and more with each passing minute. (I won’t bore you by posting them all — wink!)
We photographed Angel Glacier — the waterfall streaming from its terminus proof that it was melting before our eyes; we photographed Edith Cavell Glacier — being eaten away less visibly by the comparatively warmer water lapping at its terminus; we photographed the milky-green lake and the bergy-bits that showed a hint of blue; we photographed the spectacular reflections. Sitting in awe of the scenery and the tranquility, we enjoyed Mother Nature’s handiwork.
I’m told Angel Glacier looked even more like one before it receded so much.
Edith Cavell Glacier — covered in dirt, but no less impressive.
When it was quiet, it was totally quiet — not a peep, not a sound; we spoke in hushed tones in the cathedral of nature. In the absence of noise, a breeze off the glacier brought with it the sound of the waterfall streaming down from Angel Glacier; we heard the bergy-bits gently hitting each other, a wave lapping the shore. After a while the glaciers started to speak — we listened to the pop-crackle-and-snap, hoping for a calving. Then, with a loud crack, the ice let loose — but it was hidden from view by a ridge on the face of the mountain — got the resulting puff of white cloud as proof, though!
Reflections — double the scenery; double the pleasure.
After a couple of hours in the midst of the fantastic scenery, we started thinking about leaving. We were getting hungry and our snacks were in the car — after all, this was supposed to have been an introduction to Angel Glacier before we geared up for our hike to the meadows. We just couldn’t make ourselves go back the way we came. Instead, giving mountain goats a run for their money, we clambered up the boulders — big and small — that make up the lateral moraine, gaining enough elevation for stunning views of the glacier and the lake.
Can you see any of the people way down there?
My photo op from the ridge of the moraine and a closer look at Angel Glacier’s main body of ice.
The bonus of our rock scramble was three hoary marmots. What are those you ask? They’re ground squirrels — the largest to be found in North America (weigh about 17-20 pounds [7-10 kg] and average about 20 inches [~½ m] in length). The “hoary” part of their name refers to the silver-grey fur on their shoulders and upper back. They are sometimes called “whistlers” as they are known to emit a shrill warning to alert other colony members. In fact, had it not been for that high-pitched shriek, we might have missed the first close encounter.
A hoary marmot and a scenic background. Could we have asked for more?
The marmot was alone. We’d been tracking him on the trail below the moraine, but had lost sight of him after a while. We’d already turned around to continue scrambling over the rocks when the shrill whistle had us looking around for the source of the sound. There he was, calm as you please, perched on a boulder, not caring a whit that we were about 10 yards (~10 m) from him. Almost immediately, he was off his perch. We thought we had lost him … but no, he was simply moving in closer to sit rock-still on the boulder next to me.
After a while, we moved on to climb further up the moraine ridge. As we traversed the rocks to a vantage point across from the glacier, we came across two more marmots — a female with her young. Again, they stood still for us, posing until we had our fill and decided to move on to our best vantage point for the scenery.
Left: Hoary marmot #1 poses for his portrait.
Right: Mum with her young.
We spent quite a bit of time at this spot with a head-on view of the glacier. Somehow our elevated position made it seem like we were closer to Angel Glacier; like we could touch it. It was an illusion.
I’ll let the scenery speak for itself.
We found it very difficult to pull ourselves away, but eventually we did. Finding a spot where the lateral moraine trailed off to merge with the Cavell Meadows path, we made our way down. Then, it was a slow walk back to the parking lot. What a difference from when we were the only car in the lot. Now, cars were going round and round, waiting for a spot to open up. We weren’t quite ready to give up ours.
Grabbing our sandwiches from the car, we found a boulder in sight of Angel Glacier and set about quieting our growling stomachs. We were the envy of passersby who couldn’t help comment that they wished they had thought to bring a picnic lunch. Clear blue skies, temps that had warmed to a comfortable 63F (17C), and spectacular scenery — they were right, we had it made.
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