Tonquin Valley

In September 2010, we did a three-day, two-night backpack trip in the Tonquin Valley in Jasper National Park, Alberta, Canada. John was 57 and I was 56.

There would be a major difference between this and our previous backpack trips: we wouldn’t be sleeping in our tent. Instead, we would be staying in one of the backcountry huts constructed and maintained by the Alpine Club of Canada (ACC). On this trip, we would stay in the Wates-Gibson Hut.

The weather was great when we started out.

We had stunning views of the aptly named Ramparts.

The trail was obscured by snow in places. We also needed to negotiate our way around deep pools of melted snow. It was getting late in the day, and we were looking forward to getting to the hut. Unfortunately, while going around a particularly large pool, we completely lost the trail. We scouted around, but it eluded us. We made our way forward, hoping we were headed somewhat in the right direction.

As we planned to stay in a hut, we had not brought a tent. As the hut had beds with mattresses, we had not brought our air mattresses. As the hut had a propane stove, we had not brought our backpacking stove. It would soon be getting dark, and the temperature was dropping. We had no shelter, no way to prepare our supper and no dry place to sit (much less sleep). We were in a pickle.

Then we caught a whiff of woodsmoke. We headed in its direction, and finally, there in a clearing in the trees, stood the hut. We were greeted by two German tourists who had a roaring fire going in the wood-burning stove. We were able to get warmed up and dry our boots and socks (which had gotten wet despite our efforts). What a relief!

The next morning, we got our first good look at the hut from the outside.

We then did a day hike to the Eremite Valley.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse overnight. But we could enjoy the drama in the sky knowing that we would be spending the night in a warm, dry hut.

We hiked by the frosty Arrowhead Lake and decided it was time to head back.

Once back at the hut, we discovered that we had it to ourselves. The Germans had left. We built a fire and sat by its welcome warmth.

On our hike out the next morning, we had one last view of the Ramparts.

This trip provided an unexpected challenge, and the fear we felt stuck with us. One of the things we love about backpacking is the feeling of being self-reliant. While I certainly enjoy the luxury of staying in a hut, it gives me a sense of unease. However, there are places where the only option is to stay in a hut. Fortunately, we now have better navigational tools, so hopefully we won’t have a repeat of this experience.

All photos from this trip are on Flickr.