BRIDGES OVER TROUBLED WATERS: With a Dollop of Heavy Crude

The Charlotte Highway Bridge, built in 1886, is  now located in Historic Bridge Park near Battle Creek, Michigan

While I was young, my family had a cabin in northern Michigan that we would drive up to on weekends throughout much of the year. We knew we were getting close when our Chevy station wagon crossed the Muskegon River over a rusty steel truss bridge near the village of Hersey. The backwater pool under the bridge, with its sandy river bottom, became our favorite swimming hole and canoe launch point. While swimming there, local teenagers would sometimes climb to the top of the spidery bridge and launch themselves like bad boy Olympic high divers down to the river far below. It was a center of the community in summer.

More views of the beautiful Charlotte Highway Bridge

Alas, the old steel bridge was replaced several decades ago by a concrete structure that is undoubtedly stronger and wider and safer than the original bridge–but has none of the charm and grace of the older structure. This has been the story across America, as bridges over troubled waters run into trouble themselves, and are replaced with more mundane structures.

Dixon’s Bridge, built in 1891 by the Michigan Central Railroad, is a semicircular stone arch bridge; Norfolk Southern and Amtrack trains pass overhead

One man saw the disappearance of iron and steel truss bridges as a sad Michigan and American trend, and he had the vision to create something truly unique. Dennis Randolph, Managing Director (at the time) of the Calhoun County Road Commission, assembled a team of staff and volunteers to move five bridges from various parts of Michigan to a small park along the Kalamazoo River near Battle Creek. In a few short years, the bridges were brought in and lovingly restored by Vern Mesler and many other dedicated workers.

The park became Historic Bridge Park, and I was thrilled to walk through the park when it first opened. The old iron and steel bridges were elegant and beautiful in their engineering, and the restoration appeared to be impeccable. I know of nowhere else in America that has an outdoor bridge collection, and I applaud the people who made this possible.

Entrance sign for Historic Bridge Park

Today the Gale Road Bridge crosses Dickinson Creek, which flows into the Kalamazoo River

Alas, on July 25 & 26, 2010, a 30″ diameter pipeline carrying diluted heavy crude oil from the tar sands of Alberta, Canada, burst near Marshall, Michigan, close to Historic Bridge Park. Before the leak was discovered and the flow stopped, 819,000 gallons of dark crude spilled into Talmadge Creek, then flowed into the Kalamazoo River, contaminating birds and fish and the whole riverbed for several miles. Enbridge Energy, the company responsible for the spill, spent two years cleaning up the oil spill with crews and equipment working full time to restore the damaged section of the Kalamazoo River. Historic Bridge Park was necessarily closed to public use for nearly two years.

Part of the cost of cleanup and mitigation for Enbridge was to provide improved facilities at Historic Bridge Park. With these funds, new restroom and canoe launch facilities were provided, and the park got an endowment to help with future maintenance. Historic Bridge Park reopened in 2012, and it is now more beautiful than ever.

The Gale Road Bridge originally spanned the Grand River in Ingham County, Michigan, from the time it was built in 1897

Six bridges in close proximity make Historic Bridge Park an outdoor museum

When I was in Historic Bridge Park, I noticed blue paint slashes on some of the trees. These are markers for a long distance hiking route: the North Country Trail. If I was of a mind to, I could shoulder a backpack and hike this trail south into Ohio, then east into Pennsylvania and on into Upstate New York, taking my last step in some of my favorite mountains: the Adirondacks.

Alternatively, I could hike the other way out of the park and head to Michigan’s “up north,” eventually crossing the Mackinaw Bridge, walking through the vast north woods of the Upper Peninsula, Wisconsin, and Minnesota, then ending up in the sea of grass of the North Dakota prairie.

Alas, I cannot do either, as it is time to leave Battle Creek and fly back to Washington State, crossing the snowy winter landscape at 35,000.’

Beautiful limestone steps ascend the hill so visitors can cross the Charlotte Highway Bridge on foot

Dixon’s Bridge passes under the route of the Norfolk Southern tracks

The beautiful Kalamazoo River, where it flows past the park

For specific information about the bridges in the park, go to Historic Bridges.

For information about the Enbridge Energy oil spill, go to Kalamazoo River Oil Spill.

The visionary engineer behind Historic Bridge Park, Dennis Randolph, is also a prolific administrator and author. He has written a good book about community engineering: Civil Engineering for the Community.

To see my web site, which includes photographic prints for sale, please go to LeeRentz.com (just ask me to email you a small version of a particular photograph you like if you can’t find it on the site; my website is not up to date) 

To see thousands of my photographs in large file sizes for use in magazines or other printed materials or electronic media, go to my PhotoShelter Website.

LOST

Perhaps there was a violent storm raging in the northern Pacific. Perhaps the storm came up suddenly, while the little bird was in flight, starting its migration from Kamchatka to Cambodia. Perhaps the creature became separated from a flock and flew down the Alaska and British Columbia coast instead of the northern Asian coast. Perhaps it was exhausted and a bit desperate. We’ll never know.

All we know is that one Red-flanked Bluetail, entering its own personal Twilight Zone, ended up alone in the winter drizzle of a Vancouver, British Columbia, park. An observant person sketched the bird’s coloration and showed the sketch to an expert, and the unusual visitation was confirmed. This tiny bird of the Russian taiga decided to make the best of its wintering grounds, and began daily circling a little territory under the cedars, which included a childen’s playground, two picnic shelters, and scattered logs and brushy islands where it could perch.

Showing its identifying colors, this Red-flanked Bluetail is a hemisphere away from its kind

Meanwhile, its arrival spurred a sensation, spread at Facebook and Twitter speed, with birders flocking from all over North America, arriving by plane and car and SkyTrain and on foot, to experience the wonder of this little creature. Some days, there were 60 people at once. The Bluetail was pretty much unperturbed by its newfound celebrity, and went about its rounds regularly, the people following it like disciples following a mystic.

We drove the 220 miles to Vancouver to see the Red-flanked Bluetail on a recent Sunday. At the Canadian border,  the guard asked me the name of the bird when I told him we were going to see a specific bird, and I answered correctly (I think he was trying to trip me up). He let us through, mentioning that they had experienced a lot of people coming north to see it. We drove through busy neighborhoods and ended up in the community of New Westminster, where we entered Queen’s Park. We parked our car, then a local dog walker pointed the way to a small cluster of birders, and we joined them and almost immediately saw the target bird. During the two hours of our visit, there were friendly local Canadians, as well as a man from Georgia and another man from Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. One young teen was perhaps the best birder there, with acute hearing and vision and a passion for birds that can lead to a life-long obsession.

The Bluetail constantly twitched its tail, like some of the closely related flycatchers

Later, we ventured to a neighborhood of old homes in Vancouver, where we wandered down a back alley and trained our binoculars on a thicket in a small yard, where there was another rarity: a Brambling. This one had been reported by a kindly homeowner who fed the birds and noticed a strange one among the regular Golden-crowned Sparrows and House Finches. The Brambling is also from Eurasia, and is a bit more common than the Bluetail (which had last been seen on one of the Channel Islands off Los Angeles).

Still another wanderer, a Citrine Wagtail, was observed for a couple of months on Vancouver Island, beginning in November and ending with its disappearance in January. I didn’t get to see that one, but it was as rare as the Red-flanked Bluetail and also attracted human observers from all over North America.

We can all feel sorry for these lost little souls, so far from their kind and their familiar surroundings. Yet we can also imagine them as castaways, trying to keep life going when the going has gotten rough. Sometimes people have been stranded on remote islands by a storm, and they try to make the best of it. Birds can end up the same way, and sometimes evolution can lead to a whole new line of colorful creatures in an unexpected place.

Carry on, brave little Bluetail. I hope you make it home.

I don’t have the ears or eyes or passion to be a great birder, but I admire those who are. One of my favorite movies of all time is the gentle comedy/drama The Big Year, which follows several birders traveling all over the country trying to see as many different kinds of birds as they can in one year. It stars Steve Martin and Jack Black. Both are great in the film, and play the roles with an uncharacteristic laid back charm.

To see my web site, which includes photographic prints for sale, please go to LeeRentz.com (just ask me to email you a small version of a particular photograph you like if you can’t find it on the site; my website is not up to date) 

To see thousands of my photographs in large file sizes for use in magazines or other printed materials or electronic media, go to my PhotoShelter Website

BANFF NATIONAL PARK: Friendly Relations Between Clark’s Nutcracker and Whitebark Pine

A Clark’s Nutcracker, face stained red (I’m not sure why), using its sharp bill to probe between the pine cone scales of Whitebark Pine for pine nuts

We hiked along the shore of turquoise Bow Lake, then up through the conifer forest to timberline, where there was a dense stand of Whitebark Pines. We paused at a viewpoint, looking out over a barren and rocky basin that looked as if a glacier had just left. The silence of the place was loudly interrupted by the arrival of a gray, black, and white bird yelling “khaa-khaa-khaa!” The Clark’s Nutcracker completely ignored us, and immediately begain feeding on the Whitebark Pine cones, prying open the scales and extracting the big pine nuts within. We didn’t realize it at the time, but what we were witnessing was one of the great ecological stories of the Rocky Mountains.

I love pine nuts. Their resinous flavor is a great addition to salads, especially when they are toasted in olive oil with salt and fresh-ground pepper in a hot pan. Our pine nuts come from Costco, already shelled and in small bags imported from Asia (nuts which gourmets consider inferior to those imported from Spain and Portugal). Lord knows we don’t need the calories, but the nuts sure are good. In nature, the calories in Whitebark Pine nuts are crucial to wildlife, including Clark’s Nutcrackers, Red Squirrels, Black Bears, and Grizzly Bears. Since the nuts are 52% fat and 21% protein, they give bears the energy for a long winter and birds and squirrels a lot of energy in one big (compared to most seeds) package.

A 55 second video of a Clark’s Nutcracker calling and extracting a pine nut from a Whitebark Pine cone

Scientists have studied Clark’s Nutcrackers extensively, because these birds have coevolved with Whitebark Pine–each becoming dependent upon the other. The nutcrackers get the nuts, of course, which are vitally important as food for adults and young. The pine, as well, has become dependent on the birds for spreading its seeds around. This is because the nutcracker caches most of its seeds, rather than consuming them immediately. The birds cache from one to 30 seeds–but typically three to five–burying them under about an inch of gravelly soil. Some caches are forgotten: after all, who can possibly remember the location of the 9,500 to 30,000 small caches that each bird makes? Those forgotten caches, wetted by the rains and snows of the high country, will often sprout new seedlings that hope to become the forests of tomorrow.

Balancing high on cones and twigs in a high wind sometimes requires using wings for balance

What is remarkable is how effective a bird is at remembering most of its caches. Clark’s Nutcrackers are related to ravens, jays, and crows, a group of birds that goes far beyond the label of “bird brains.” Ravens play like humans do, sliding down snowy slopes and cackling with glee. Crows are smart enough to remember individual human faces. Jays, such as the Steller’s Jays at my feeder, certainly know me as the source of their whole peanuts. Clark’s Nutcrackers, like their relatives, are intelligent and have good spacial mapping abilities, so that they can find the nuts they’ve stored.

Their acrobatic abilities are also well developed, with the ability to balance on cones and branches, in windy conditions, while opening cones with the long, strong bill. When they extract a seed, they first hold it in the bill, then deftly store it in a pouch under the tongue. When the pouch is full, they fly off to a suitable spot on the ground and create a cache for the stored nuts.

Clark’s Nutcrackers harvest the pine nuts from mid-summer until sometime in October. They use the caches during the season when seeds are unavailable–especially for feeding the young. During the nut harvest season, they compete with Red Squirrels for the nuts, and sometimes with Black Bears who climb the trees to get at the cones. The squirrels snip off branches and carry them to storage piles, called middens. Grizzly Bears and Black Bears will often raid these middens, taking the easy way out to get a big load of rich calories for minimal effort prior to their long winter’s sleep. I’m sure this makes the squirrels really mad, but that’s just the way it goes in nature, where tooth and claw (literally, in the case of bears) rules.

Whitebark Pines are beautiful trees, even in death, and I have several times photographed their bleached white skeletons on windy ridges of the Olympic and Cascade Mountains. But there are more of these skeletons than I would like to see, which is the result of two diseases that ravage the pines. The first is White Pine Blister Rust, which is a disease introduced to Europe and North America, apparently from Asia. This blister rust is a fungus that has a complex life cycle, which requires the fungus to also have a gooseberry/current shrub as a host, and depends upon airborne spores to travel between the pines and the gooseberry bushes. It kills pines in the white pine group, which have five needles, a group that includes Eastern White Pine, Sugar Pine, Whitebark Pine, and several others. The best way to control the disease is to eliminate all gooseberry and current bushes from an area, which is a major undertaking.

Whitebark Pine (photographed in Washington State) probably dying from a Mountain Pine Beetle infestation

The second killer of pines is the Mountain Pine Beetle, which has devastated huge sections of the Rocky Mountains in Canada and the USA. Lodgepole Pines have been hit especially hard by the beetle, which drills into the living tissue of the pine, preventing the tissue from carrying nutrients. Where a rocky mountain forest has been badly hit, a whole mountainside looks rusty red instead of green; it is ugly. Foresters and ecologists believe that a long series of warmer and drier summers, perhaps an outcome of global warming, has tipped the balance in favor of the killer beetle by allowing bigger populations of the beetle to survive the winters in the high country. When we were in Canada, some mills appeared  to be specializing in taking truckload after truckload of pines killed by the beetle.

Whitebark Pine struggling for life in the high country of Olympic National Forest in Washington

Think of the consequences of the deaths of so many Whitebark Pines: Clark’s Nutcrackers would go into a steep decline without the ready supply of nuts; Whitebark Pines wouldn’t have the nutcrackers spreading around their seeds, so fewer seedlings would get a start; and squirrels and bears would lose an energy-rich food source, probably reducing their numbers.  All in all, the forests at timberline would be ghostly and quiet with death, their white trunks gleaming under a full moon.

A pine nut in its bill, this Clark’s Nutcracker will temporarily store this nut in a pouch under its tongue, then will fly off to cache the nut, with several others, under the soil on a mountain slope

We watched and photographed the Clark’s Nutcracker for about fifteen minutes; there were several in the vicinity, but it seems like one persistent individual kept returning to the same clump of trees. The noisy activity was a delight to watch.

For more information about Whitebark Pines and their role as a keystone species in the high Rockies, go to:

Banff National Park Whitebark Pine

Whitebark Pine Ecosystem Foundation

US Fish & Wildlife Service Endangered Species

To see my web site, which includes photographic prints for sale, please go to LeeRentz.com.

To see thousands of my photographs in large file sizes for use in magazines or other printed materials or electronic media, go to my PhotoShelter Website.

YOHO NATIONAL PARK: The Magnificent Landscape

The Lake O’Hara region of Canada’s Yoho National Park is, in my opinion, the most spectacular place in North America, and I have been to a lot of beautiful places. This portfolio of photographs, taken during hikes over a five day period in September, shows this magnificent area at a time when the Alpine Larches were turning smoky gold, and the first snows were sifting over the high country.

Hiker and cairns create a striking silhouette against Hungabee Mountain, high on the Opabin Plateau

Cathedral Mountain, viewed on a still and frosty morning across Lake O’Hara from the cabins of Lake O’Hara Lodge

Reflections of rock and trees on the still waters of Hungabee Lake on the Opabin Plateau

Golden Alpine Larches on a sunny day, with snowy Mount Schaffer in the distance

Trail through snow and Alpine Larches, heading up toward Opabin Lake

A loose snow avalanche, one of many we saw and heard, coming down Hungabee Mountain; the avalanches here made a strange screeching sound that we had never before heard

Colors on the surface of Lefroy Lake along the trail to Lake Oesa

Alpine Larches reflecting in Hungabee Lake

Cathedral Mountain reflecting in Lake O’Hara

A canoeist fishing the surreal waters of Lake O’Hara

The primeval basin of Lake Oesa

Victoria Falls thundering down through a gouge it carved in a cliff

Rock in Hungabee Lake, with reflections of the cliffs of Yukness Mountain

Reflections of Alpine Larches and the shaded, snow-covered slope of Mount Schaffer, in Hungabee Lake

Mount Huber and a flank of Yukness Mountain reflected in Hungabee Lake on the Opabin Plateau

Unsettled weather on Mount Huber

Opabin Lake, nestled below Hungabee Mountain and other peaks touching the sky; we watched and listened as a Zen Buddhist meditated with help of a clear bell above this lake

Odaray Mountain and Cathedral Mountain reflecting on the still morning surface of Lake O’Hara

Mount Huber rising magnificently over Lake O’Hara

The aqua waters of Victoria Lake, on the trail to Lake Oesa

The lovely turquoise waters of one of the Morning Glory Lakes, with golden Alpine Larches

Alpine Larches and snowy slopes on the descent from the Opabin Plateau

Lake O’Hara from Opabin Prospect, with Wiwaxy Peaks and Cathedral Mountain in the distance

Opabin Lake, in the cirque below Hungabee Mountain

The snowy cliffs of Mount Hungabee

Smoky gold Alpine Larch with rock grooved by a glacier, on the Opabin Plateau below Schaffer Ridge

Alpine Larches occupying the Opabin Plateau, with Mount Schaffer and Cathedral Mountain rising above

A colorful corner of Victoria Lake

Rocks and reflections in one of the Cascade Lakes on the Opabin Plateau

Reflections in Hungabee Lake

The morning view from the shoreline in front of the Lake O’Hara Lodge cabins, with Cathedral Mountain rising in the distance

This Seattle Mountaineers photography trip into the Canadian Rockies was ably led by Linda Moore. Yoho National Park is, in my opinion, the most beautiful place in the Canadian Rockies and perhaps in all of North America. For more information about Yoho National Park, go to the Parks Canada web site.

For other entries in my weblog about Yoho National Park, go to Ice, Wolverine,  Early Snow,  Night at Yoho, Elizabeth Parker Hut and Fairy Barf.

To see my web site, which includes photographic prints for sale, please go to LeeRentz.com.

To see thousands of my photographs in large file sizes for use in magazines or other printed materials or electronic media, go to my PhotoShelter Website.

YOHO NATIONAL PARK: Fairy Barf and Squirrel Love

“It’s all in the details.” We say that about contracts, and it is true in nature as well. The grand landscapes are stunning in Yoho National Park, but the details of the landscape are often entertaining and visually fascinating. Here are a few stories and pictures showing some of those wonderful details from hikes that I and my companions took in the Lake O’Hara area.

We had hoped to see one of three species of ptarmigan on our hikes, but we struck out. On our last day in Yoho, we talked about not seeing ptarmigans, and I said we were more likely to see a grouse along the forested, lower elevation trail we were hiking. Within a couple of minutes, I looked up the trail and there was a Spruce Grouse standing right in the trail! It was a male, painted with bright red eye shadow. This species is also known as “fool hen,” because it is rather oblivious to the presence of people. We pointed cameras at it for nearly ten minutes at close range, and the grouse showed little nervousness about us.

Male Spruce Grouse in the spruce-fir forest of Yoho

The day before our grouse experience, we were hiking on the Opabin Plateau, which is a glacial hanging valley populated with Wolverines, Grizzly Bears, and Zen Buddhists–of which we observed only the latter on our two day trips into this valley. But what interested me? Squirrel sex! A lady Red Squirrel sat

Cute Red Squirrel eating seeds from a cone

demurely on a conifer branch, nibbling at a cone and allowing us to approach close enough to get some nice pictures. She was lovely. Then another squirrel appeared, and began chasing our lady ’round and ’round, up and down and around tree trunks, and dashing over the mossy forest floor. Finally he caught her and they mated. Then another chase. Then he caught her again; this time

Whispering into her ear, while she nibbles on a fir cone

she picked up and gnawed on a Douglas Fir cone while mating, as if bored with the whole act. Then another chase. And another mating. She chewed some more on her cone. My female hiking companions finally got tired of watching animal porn; and from then on they refused to point out any more squirrels to me!

Rated R for implied sexuality

I hadn’t realized that fairies lived in Yoho National Park, but we saw evidence of them all the time. Along the trails were little patches of puke, where fairies who nipped a bit too much on the ambrosia of the Canadian Rockies spilled their guts on the morning after. Actually, these patches of puke are Fairy Barf lichens, with plenty of tiny chunks against a bilious green background.

Fairy Barf lichen, Icmadophila ericetorum

We had seen enough lakes at Yoho to realize that nearly every medium sized lake and tarn contained a resident Barrow’s Goldeneye. These ducks spend the waning autumn days at these subalpine lakes, constantly diving for aquatic

Female Barrow’s Goldeneye on a turquoise lake

insects. In the clear mountain lakes, I could watch the goldeneyes as they swam underwater. In fact, the first time I saw one from above, I could follow its trail underwater by the cloud of silt it stirred up as it swam along the bottom. These ducks were only going to enjoy their Canadian Rockies vacations for a short time, since ice would soon seal all of the lakes and tarns; then they would have to fly to their wintering grounds to the south.

Barrow’s Goldeneye caught in the act of diving

Swimming underwater in a clear lake; the goldeneye uses both its feet and its wings during a dive

Popping to the surface

Faint trails in the bottom of the lake, which I believe were made by diving Barrow’s Goldeneyes

A couple of little birds love this high country; two come to mind. The American Pipit enjoys Canada as much as this American, and spends its time searching for food on the rocky shores of mountain lakes. The American Dipper walks underwater along mountain streams and lakes.

American Pipit, which constantly wags its tail up and down while searching the shores of a mountain lake for insects and plant seeds, in nonbreeding plumage

Juvenile American Dipper resting between underwater sessions of searching a stream for aquatic insects; the dipper is named for its habit of constantly dipping up and down by flexing its legs

An American Dipper who really didn’t want its picture taken, hightailing it away from me

Male Fairies in these woods have a poor sense of direction, and would be too embarrassed to ask a mere human for directions, so they’ve created an elaborate system of maps. I didn’t fully understand the maps, but I’m not supposed to, as I am not a Fairy .

Map lichen showing Fairy trails

A more colorful Map Lichen, Rhizocarpon geographicum

When we visited Yoho, the wildflowers were essentially done for the year. But seed heads of several species could still be found before the falling of autumn snows covered them for the winter. This included the Western Anemone, which is also known as “Hippie Stick” and “Towhead Baby,” and which has a prominent crown of feathery seeds that reminds humans of hair.

“Give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen” (lyric from the musical, Hair)

When we ventured above timberline, we would see rodents that looked like oversized chipmunks, except that the face is not striped like chipmunks. These Golden-mantled Ground Squirrels live in burrows under rocks in the high country, and have learned that humans sometimes leave behind bits of crackers and cheese and nuts–or that these big creatures will sometimes hand them free food, often with strange chuckling sounds coming from their upturned mouths.

Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel hoping for a handout

We didn’t see any large browsing animals in Yoho, though Elk and Moose are found in the park. The closest we came was seeing this track in the snow, several miles from Lake O’Hara. The details are obscured by the snow, so I cannot say for sure if if was an Elk or a Moose.

Elk or Moose track in the snow, showing dewclaw marks (at the top) which are shown when the large mammal is trotting or running

Below is a gallery of lichen photographs. I don’t recall ever being in a place so rich with lichen diversity. It takes patience to look close and photograph these miniature designs, which consist of a cooperative combination of fungus and algae. I am not an expert at identification of lichens, so if anyone out there in blogland knows more than I do, feel free to identify some of these by genus and species or to correct me.

Goblet Lichens, with the rims of the goblets ringed with tiny ice crystals, reminding me a bit of margaritas

Identification anyone?

Stereocaulon tomentosum

I believe that the taller lichen behind is Cladonia gracilis ssp turbinata

Peltigera neopolydactyla

Identification anyone?

Peltigera sp.

A semi-aquatic lichen photographed on the rocks ringing one of the Morning Glory Lakes; identification anyone?

Finally, we saw a variety of mushrooms on this trip. Rather than try to identify these, I’ll just show them to you for your interest; I especially liked the combination of mushrooms and snow.

This Seattle Mountaineers photography trip into the Canadian Rockies was ably led by Linda Moore. Yoho National Park is, in my opinion, the most beautiful place in the Canadian Rockies and perhaps in all of North America. For more information about Yoho National Park, go to the Parks Canada web site.

For other entries in my weblog about Yoho National Park, go to Ice, Wolverine,  Early Snow,  Night at Yoho, and Elizabeth Parker Hut.

To see my web site, which includes photographic prints for sale, please go to LeeRentz.com.

To see thousands of my photographs in large file sizes for use in magazines or other printed materials or electronic media, go to my PhotoShelter Website.

YOHO NATIONAL PARK: Elizabeth Parker Hut

Elizabeth Parker Hut has simple and elegant log architecture that makes it a timeless place to stay

As a quiet and introspective kind of fellow, the thought of staying in a hut with 23 other people was scary. But I was won over on this Canadian Rockies trip by two hut experiences; in this story I’ll describe the experience of staying in Yoho’s Elizabeth Parker Hut, where we stayed for four nights.

Four of us shared the hut with an adventure tour group of ten Japanese people, mostly middle-aged, and their two young Japanese-Canadian guides. The Japanese spoke few words of English, and only one of us was adept at learning any words of Japanese, so we depended upon the Japanese-Canadian guides to be translators. They were both friendly guys with a good sense of humor, and had long ago learned to span different cultures with a smile. One highlight was the last night both our groups were together, when one of the guides played 1960s and 1970s American folk songs, so some of us, ahem, older people, knew a lot of the words. The hut was pulsing to the tune of John Denver’s Country Roads, with the Americans singing along, and the Japanese, who didn’t understand any of the words, clapping along. It was great fun!

A Japanese adventure travel group occupied one big table during meals, while our Seattle Mountaineers group took the other

Elizabeth Parker Hut sits in perhaps the most stunning setting in North America, a small subalpine meadow surrounded by towering and shapely peaks of the Canadian Rockies. Originally built in 1919 (with its associated Wiwaxy Cabin in 1912) by the Canadian Pacific Railway to promote tourism to this most beautiful part of Canada, the hut was later transferred to the Alpine Club of Canada.

The ACC was created in 1906, with Elizabeth Parker among several founders. Ms. Parker, a feminist of the time and a fiery journalist who loved the mountains, was adamant that she wanted to see a Canadian alpine club, rather than just a section of the comparable American club. Her patriotism won the day, and the ACC has had a vital presence ever since. In fact, while researching this brief article, I found that the ACC has even expanded into New York’s Adirondack Mountains, where it maintains a beautiful log cabin for members to use as a hut, located on about 100 acres in the Keene area (an old stomping ground of ours).

Towering Wiwaxy Peaks rose prominently above our cabin

For people who stay at the hut, there is a beautiful kitchen, with a full complement of pots and pans of all sizes. We hauled water in buckets from a nearby creek, and one of the morning jobs each day was to boil water in big pots, so the kitchen was always steamy in the early hours. There are propane lights, but before dawn and after dark, headlamps are a must if you want to know what’s cooking. And what’s cooking for Karen and I was our normal backpacking meals. The Japanese ate healthier fare prepared by the guides, including boiled rice, lots of fresh vegetables, seaweed, and fish. It looked and smelled great!

The kitchen is wonderfully equipped, and includes propane stoves so that hikers don’t have to cook out in the elements

Sleeping arrangements are cozy. A giant bunk bed, made for 16 people, stretches across the whole room. Eight people on the top and eight people on the bottom snore in unison after the 10:00 p.m. lights out. The changing room consists of the interior of one’s sleeping bag, which takes a bit of getting used to but is not bad. Heat is provided by an efficient wood stove, so the interior is comfortable, except when the stove is over-stoked and the temperature soars. The climb to the upper bunks is fun, and takes me back to my Boy Scout days of staying in remote cabins. Which reminds me, staying in a hut is a lot like those old Boy Scout outings, except that there are girls in the cabins at Yoho.

Bunks and drying rack shared by all the occupants

After days of hiking in the rain and snow, gear gets pretty wet. In the hut there is an ingenious pully system that raises and lowers two big drying racks, so stuff can quickly dry in the heat at the peak of the cabin. Boots are discouraged in the cabin; we left those at the door and ran around in our stocking feet.

Midnight rambles to the outhouse are a necessary part of hut living; fortunately that gave us a chance to check on the weather. One night it was snowing, another night it was clear and moonlit–a magical experience.

We really enjoyed the company of the Japanese; one of the men called me a “picture master,” and he was certainly the flute master. We loved hearing him play his bamboo flute outdoors, with the notes floating over the frosty landscape …

The flute master on a frosty morning; the flute master writes his own blog at http://keiichiwaseda.blogspot.com/

As I mentioned, Elizabeth Parker Hut was built early in the previous century. Lake O’Hara became a favorite destination of the Canadian Group of Seven painters, who created some of the best landscape paintings of the 20th Century. One of the group, J.E.H. MacDonald, painted an interior of Elizabeth Parker Hut circa 1925; it is interesting to view the painting in comparison to the hut interior now: Lodge Interior, Lake O’Hara (you will need to scroll through a group of beautiful paintings to get to this one).

A blazing fire helps dry our wet boots and clothing

One of the Japanese-Canadian guides, preparing breakfast by headlamp in the predawn

Each day, Cathedral Mountain snags the first and last warm sunlight of the day, providing encouragement to the frosty valley below

Half a dozen of us could easily be preparing meals at the same time

With scenery like Mount Huber outside the hut, it is simply a remarkable place to stay!

Some of our Japanese friends on the last day of their trip

Our group at breakfast; the Japanese group had departed the day before, leaving five of us in the hut for one night

Le Relais Day Shelter is the place where hut dwellers catch the bus back to civilization. In addition to the warmth inside, the shelter sells coffee, hot chocolate, and best of all, huge slabs of carrot cake (I had one most days after hiking). This shelter is half a mile from the Elizabeth Parker Hut.

Elizabeth Parker Hut is surrounded by the stunning mountains of the Canadian Rockies

Visits to the Lake O’Hara region of Yoho National Park are severely restricted by Parks Canada; even day hikers have to take a bus in for the day and their numbers are regulated (42 per day maximum). To make a hut reservation, a good first step is to read the Alpine Club of Canada’s Elizabeth Parker Hut Information. Then review the policies of Yoho National Park regarding Lake O’Hara. This should get you started; remember that demand is high and supply is low, so be prepared to jump on the phone to make reservations at the first moment possible. It will be one of the most memorable experiences of your life.

This Seattle Mountaineers photography trip into the Canadian Rockies was ably led by Linda Moore. Yoho National Park is, in my opinion, the most beautiful place in the Canadian Rockies and perhaps in all of North America. For more information about Yoho National Park, go to the Parks Canada web site.

For other entries in my weblog about Yoho National Park, go to Ice and Wolverine and Early Snow and Night at Yoho.

To see my web site, which includes photographic prints for sale, please go to LeeRentz.com.

To see thousands of my photographs in large file sizes for use in magazines or other printed materials or electronic media, go to my PhotoShelter Website.

YOHO NATIONAL PARK: Photography on a Clear Night

Elizabeth Parker Hut, established and operated by the Alpine Club of Canada, exudes warmth on a chilly autumn evening

After a day of snow and mostly gray skies, the clouds over Lake O’Hara dissipated as the evening wore on, leaving a startlingly clear sky. Night used to be a time when I would put away my camera and rest. Not any more. Now I love to see what I can capture, so the time of my visual awareness–on a clear evening–can go on for hours.

For this night portfolio, I started by photographing Elizabeth Parker Hut–the log cabin where our group was staying–using a balance of available light, flash, and propane-fueled light emanating from the windows of the hut. Then, as the evening wore on and the stars emerged and the full moon rose over the peaks, I felt a burst of energy and took a surge of photographs in the chilly air. The results were extremely satisfying.

Full moon rising over the mountains, with dissipating clouds

Ice crystals in the clouds show a colorful corona effect as they refract light from the rising moon

Elizabeth Parker Hut is surrounded by high peaks

Cathedral Peak with the Big Dipper above

Snowy Odaray Mountain illuminated by the rising moon

Mount Huber illuminated by a bright moon, with zillions of stars overhead

Fresh snow catches the moonlight reflecting off Odaray Mountain

Mount Huber catches the moonlight

This Seattle Mountaineers photography trip into the Canadian Rockies was ably led by Linda Moore. Yoho National Park is, in my opinion, the most beautiful place in the Canadian Rockies and perhaps in all of North America. For more information about Yoho National Park, go to the Parks Canada web site.

For other entries in my weblog about Yoho National Park, go to Ice and Wolverine and Early Snow.

To see my web site, which includes photographic prints for sale, please go to LeeRentz.com.

To see thousands of my photographs in large file sizes for use in magazines or other printed materials or electronic media, go to my PhotoShelter Website.