An Alpine Walk to Crater Lake

Smithers, B.C. is not the biggest tourist attraction in British Columia, but it has a lot going for it with the outdoor enhusiast.  Before we got here, we listed 6 or 7 outdoor adventures we would like to tackle.  However, we only had three days here, and weather was not going to be friendly to us, so we had to prioritize.

From the moment we saw the descriptions of the Crater Lake Trail, we knew this had to be the best.  Only 4 miles up and back, we had over 1,000 feet of elevation gain on a rocky trail, so it was challenging enough to be worth the effort.  But it is the rewards that make this hike a jewel.  We won't spoil the surprise.  We'll just show you.

We start with the obligatory trailhead selfy.  This sign was very direct:

The trail began very steeply up a rocky, rutted "road" past some of the cabins that cluster near the top of Hudson's Bay Mountain for those skiing enthusiasts who enjoy recreating on the slopes on the other side of the mountain we were climbing.

We found the cabins interesting.  Some were rough-hewn; others simple A-frames; others yuppy monstrosities; but all shared one feature -- they each had outhouses.  Yup, outdoor plumbing.  But remember, folks, that the winters here are icy and cold, so, remarkably enough, some of the rustic little places had enclosed breezeways to make for a less cold and hazardous journey to the water closet in the middle of the night.

It also paid to look down along the edges of the road.  We saw what has to be the largest mushroom we've spotted in years.  Kathy laid her GPS by the big boy to show its size:

But don't just look down.  It's autumn here already in B.C. in early-mid September, and the foliage has been taking on brilliant colors.  The side of the road, as we climbed, was decked with grasses and plants of every rainbow hue:

The color just grew more riotous as we climbed, up into a wide, spreading mountainside meadow as we approached the krumholz:

Above treeline, we saw nothing but grasses and alpine plants -- until Kathy, looking closer, spotted movement.  There, on the side of the trail, were two ptarmigan, decked in their autumn colors.  Pretty burnt umber heads, brown speckled feathers, and white shanks and feet that foretold the coming of winter and their change of wardrobe to all-white:

The ptarmigans did not fly off.  We're not sure why; we hope it was that we were quiet and moved slowly, so perhaps they thought they could stay safe if they simply waddled away from us.  It gave us plenty of time to watch them.

Turning uphill again, we neared the top of the second major ridge and had a chance to look out, southwest away from Smithers and the peak of Hudson's Bay Mountain, across two pretty tarns that reflected what light the mottled, cloud-filled sky could generate:

The next ridge was the last before the lake.  Someone had planted a pole with a pink ribbon as flag.  Kathy raced up to hold it in victory -- a climb well clumb:

We turned, and suddenly, there was pretty Crater Lake, tucked into its own little, multicolored crater.  While "crater" makes one think of volcanic formation, it appeared to us that the crater was more likely formed by glacial action, leaving the lake as a glacial tarn, trapped behind a wall of moraine.

But the lake itself was only part of the charm of the place.  To get to it, we needed to cross a little boulder field, spread out across the drainage and beckoning us to look down the little valley beyond:

We accepted the invitation and stood at the stream forming the drainage, looking out into a steep valley that we could have bushwhacked had we had the time.

But we turned back to the lake to enjoy its unique beauties.  To understand its setting, take a look at this 360-degree video of Crater Lake and its surroundings.

Everything about the lake was an abstract artist's dream of colors, shapes and textures:

Zoom in and the colors, shapes and textures only revealed deeper patterns:

Zoom in again, and you could swear that you were seeing the infinite beauty of mass and energy swirling in the ether:

Then we saw the shimmering.  The surface of the lake, which at first (and in the photos above) appeared to be still and mirror-like, making a perfect reflection of the crater wall above, was in fact rippling, as if stirred by something from within.  The rippling was mesmerizing, and you may see from this dazzling video of ripples on the lake making a moving reflection of the cliff walls behind the lake.

We found a suitable lunch rock, and rested, eating our sandwiches and marveling at the peacefulness of the lake.  We took a stroll over to a nearby knoll to look down into the valley below --

-- then returned for one last goodbye to the lake itself:

We said a quick goodbye to a group of three women, the only other hikers at the lake, who had followed us up the trail, and we slowly retraced our steps.  While we had been warm on the way up due to the aerobics of the climb (and despite the glowering, cool weather), and had continued to be comfortable when the clouds opened up and poured sunlight on the lake and our lunch spot, the clouds and fog started closing in as we descended.  So we paused to add a layer, and as we looked up, we were surprised to see our little ptarmigan friends again!

However, this time, the whole brood (we counted seven of them) were pecking around the trail:

This time, too, they chose to try to waddle slowly away from us rather than expend the energy to fly.  The largest of them -- possibly one of the parents -- stood on a rock behind while the others retreated, as if she or he was guarding the flank and ready to raise the alarm if we grew more threatening.  But there was no threat, and no alarm, and eventually they all left the trail to us to hike alone:

We continued down the trail, noting in the distance what we had not seen on the hike up.  At the high point (barely visible in this photo) was the top of a ski lift.  We realized we could have crossed the meadow to that rise and looked down the ski slopes.  It made us realize what fun it would be (and how tempting) to just take off, back-country skiing across this bowl-like expanse after being lifted up the mountain.  Maybe later.

As we descended, the cabins of the ski resort came into view below and we paused to enjoy them and the scenery below:

This is probably a good spot to end the story, leaving you with this pretty autumnal view of a sloping mountain meadow, where every step along our trail brought us pleasures that would have been enough reward for an entire hike.