2022-08-27, Day 1
Looking across the thickly forested Miette River valley from the unmaintained route that leads to Elysium Pass, the slopes of the Continental Divide wring cold moisture from a late-summer storm, Jasper National Park, Canada.
When one leaves the vehicle, shoulders the pack, and heads into the forested mountains with everything required for the next 8 days on one's back, the beginning of what may come to pass feels like a bit of a relief. Before the beginning, there are decisions to make, judgements to render, such as how much pasta does a hungry person really need to eat for a hearty meal? One doesn't want to needlessly carry too much, and one also does not wish to be hungry after a long, arduous day. How many cups of tea might we reasonably want, and how much fuel is required to support that habit? What combination of layers will work best with the anticipated weather? It weighs needlessly on the body to carry clothes one doesn't ultimately need, but being too cold is no fun either.
Once the beginning is underway, these questions recede as there is no longer any point in asking them. One's purposes become solely to find what lies ahead, and to make good decisions to return home as safely as possible. I always hope that I have not stupidly forgotten anything too drastic. The anticipation that has built over the preceding weeks now races out into the landscape and dissipates amongst the talus, blueberries, and coniferous spires.
From the vehicles, we crossed Minaga Creek on the only bridge we would see for the next 8 days, and we began the 1,000 m (3,280 ft) climb over 14.5 km (9 miles) to Elysium Pass where we planned to camp. Here, you can see storm clouds delivering moisture to the higher elevations across the Miette River valley. This same system doused the slope we ascended earlier in the morning, and the clouds gifted every single leaf we brushed past with a singular drop of water to deliver to our chests, legs, and feet. It was not long before the shoes were soaked completely through with water. Though we did not know this as we climbed, the feet would stay cold and wet for the next 6 days, except for when we donned dry sleeping socks.
Loading contexts...
