Sparrowhawk Tarns

At times, selective memory can come in handy. In hindsight, we, as humans, tend to block out certain realities while focusing on the overall experience. I find this selectiveness enormously helpful when revisiting a “favorite” hike.

I’m referring to Sparrowhawk Tarns—a relatively short (11.6km/ 7.2 mi) but steep (700m/2,283 ft) climb through a land of fossils and marmots—that takes you to a spectacular view of small lakes, meadows, and surrounding mountains.

View of Sparrowhawk Mountain from the trail.

The day was ours to enjoy with turkey sandwiches, lots of water, and bug spray in tow. Our early start almost guaranteed minimal dust from Spray Lake Road—which came in handy for wildlife sightings.

The trail began on the High Rockies connector trail, leading to a junction for Sparrowhawk (left) and the High Rockies Trail (right).

High Rockies continues on right, Sparrowhawk straight ahead.

About 30 minutes into the hike, we heard a couple below us making their presence known to any bear within at least five miles (hahaha). Lo and behold—we know these people! What were the odds that we would run into our neighbors Corey and Willis on the same trail simultaneously? Pretty slim. Great minds think alike.

Willis and Corey with Maggie leading the way.

Excellent company and conversation took us past a lovely little stream, where Maggie took a quick dip.

We parted ways at the treeline—after taking a moment to photograph a nearby whistling marmot. 

Rocky climb begins here.

Marmot

Enter selective memory. Our climb involved a never-ending pile of boulders, following multiple paths leading to points unknown. Let’s say there are many ways to get to the top, and thankfully, the actual trail is much more apparent on the way down.

But the view is worth the effort. 

Alpine meadows.

Small lake view from our lunch site.

The trip back was steep, somewhat precarious, and not at all leisurely. Nonetheless, it was a heck of a lot faster than the climb. 

Dave making his way down, with Spray Lake in the distance.

Later that evening, Corey texted a photo she took of Maggie and Willis that captured the spirit of the day—serendipitous.

Maggie and Willis in the alpine meadow.

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Warspite Lake

Dave and I have a knack for turning an easy outing into something a little more challenging. Ask anyone (yep, you, Margaret) who has hiked with us—every trip is an adventure. Hey, it doesn’t matter if it’s a quiet walk around Canmore—take a few trail detours, and three miles can quickly turn to six.

Warspite Creek.

We were looking for a simple, scenic hike to spend a Sunday afternoon. Warspite Lake via Black Prince Cirque Interpretive checked all the boxes: easy, short, and beautiful. The out and back route was just over four miles with an elevation gain of 700 ft (220 m). A lovely, soft-padded walk through a lush spruce forest. What on earth could go astray?

Trail just before the lake.

Once at the lake, we opted to follow the trail around the lake counterclockwise to take photos and escape people milling around the entrance. 

Warspite Lake

There were still frozen areas near the shoreline—unusual for late June in Kananaskis.

Lake ice.

Mount Black Prince, and Warspite, with Haig Glacier in the background.

Before long, Dave and I noticed a group who had passed us earlier was heading back. Soon after, we encountered a family trying to cross a rushing stream covered with downed trees. Dad scrambled his way across the logs to the far bank while Mom stood up to her knees in the icy water. Their kids stood silently—apparently wanting no part of it.

Nothing clear-cut here.

As Dave surveyed the situation, the parents retreated. The six-year-old glanced at her parents and then at us, exclaiming, ”This crossing is definitely for the young, nimble, and light of foot.”

Duly noted—and ignored. Dave deftly made his way across while I lumbered my way through the icy water.

No trail here.

Bushwhacking our way around the lake on a nonexistent trail covered with debris, fallen logs, and water was a bit unnerving initially but ultimately satisfying.

Bushwacking.

Once through the bog, the lakeshore became easier to navigate. The craggy white rocks surrounding this portion of the lake hosted several family picnics.

Heading back, we crossed paths with an outgoing spruce grouse.

It was an excellent way to spend a Sunday afternoon—detours included.

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