A Symphony in C Major

Following yesterday's somewhat sedentary day driving to Jasper we were happy that today we'd be out in the fresh air. After much debate and taking into consideration advice from other people we've met, we decided to hike, under our own steam, the length of the Maligne Canyon before a couple of further stops later in the day, weather and energy permitting. Turns out it was a great choice. With bright, though not altogether sunny weather, we geared up and set off out of town. 

I should explain that the canyon, and indeed the river and the lake of the same name, were called Maligne (French for 'evil' or 'wicked') after Father Pierre-Jean de Smet, a Belgian Jesuit missionary had trouble crossing the river on his horse in 1846. The canyon varies in width at different points along its route but at 50 metres (160 feet) deep for most of its 2.5 mile length it is only passable by six strategically placed bridges. 

The canyon is accessed from various places but we chose to start at the end and work towards the beginning, thereby avoiding the significant crowds who don't opt for the full experience and only manage Bridges 1 and 2. Having parked at Bridge 6 we had the trail pretty much to ourselves for a large part of the walk. Deep joy. And I'm not just saying that - the realisation that we were in the Rocky Mountains, in gorgeous fir woodland, with alpine peaks as a backdrop and taking in sights and sounds of such beauty is enough to really make you stop talking and just think how lucky we are to be alive. I really wish I could share the musicality of the water coursing alongside, at times bubbling, roaring, rushing or crashing through the canyon, or the birdsong, or the percussion of boots thumping rhythmically on the compacted mud floor or missing a beat when rocks dictated a minor diversion. The irony is that in bear country you are advised to keep conversation flowing so that they are aware of your presence but in the magnificent setting today we were happy to tune into nature's symphony and leave the canyon to be its own bear-deterrent. 

My other wish is that the photographs could convey the true majesty of this place. It's impossible to show the scale of the mountains, the depth of the drop to the canyon floor, the shapes formed by water crashing over rocks for millennia, the colours of the glacial water and the minerals in the rock in a few hurriedly taken snapshots. You have to see them to appreciate the beauty pageant in all its glory. All this stuff about sounds and sights will hopefully clarify my 'symphony' in 'C (canyon) major'.

Enjoying the fresh air

At times the river literally emerges from beneath the rock over which you are walking. Clearly here it isn't deep at all.

Now the canyon gets more interesting. Sometimes the river tumbles over rocks, is fed by glacial run-off, it pours out through caves and thunders around bends, eroding the walls by fractions of millimetres more each year. 

Starting to get a sense of the depth of the canyon ...

... and the power of the water to erode rock.

Look closely - I'm there in the middle and it's a LONG way down.

The photos could go on, and on, and I'm still not sure they would capture the canyon's impact. We had a wonderful few hours, and returned to the car enriched and glowing. 

Our second and third stops of the day were much less energetic but nevertheless interesting so 'bear' with me.

At Medicine Lake we pulled over to take yet another snap but importantly to read the info boards, explaining its alternative name, the 'Disappearing Lake'. 

Looking dark and broody under heavy clouds. To get a sense of the size, those are people right down by the water's edge. 

In summer Medicine Lake looks pretty much like many others in Jasper National Park. By October, however, it has virtually vanished and yet there is no visible outlet. Furthermore it remains empty until each spring the lake returns. The native Indians thought the disappearance was down to 'big medicine' or magic and feared the lake. In fact, a network of underground cracks, caused by glacial activity allow the Maligne River to flow out at a constant rate yet with the addition of melting snow and rainwater run-off the lake takes on more in summer than the drainage system can carry out, hence a temporary lake is formed every year.

And so to Maligne Lake itself. All around is the Queen Elizabeth range of mountains, with Monkhead central, far off in the distance. Once again the absence of sunshine made the photos disappointing. The steaming bowls of chilli in the restaurant there were most definitely not. Great way to wrap up our fresh-air day before the drive back to Jasper. 

Did I mention we'd had a great day? 

Looking relaxed and happy - and on the mend :-)