By Kay Knox
“Avoid excess exertion.”
Such is the recommendation accompanying current air quality advisories; to conform, sort of, our hiking group chose going downhill from vehicles parked up near Triple Decker Falls to another in Archibald Subdivision on Aug. 17.
With its varied terrain, views, and landscape this trail is a favourite, but in deference to the smoke we shortened it slightly.
“Keep your keys with you!” I advised Sandra, as we left her spacious van near Wells Gray Autobody.
Soon we were part of a group of 12 hikers, and three dogs, reading a sign at the upper trailhead: “Feel free to borrow ski poles. It’s steep!” Indeed it is, although an initial short wooden fence adds a feeling of security, despite some sturdy uprights being loosened by dry weather.
While we never tackle this trail in wet weather, we still had to be extremely cautious with roly poly gravel under foot.
“I’m already grateful for this ski pole,” stated Margaret, while using it as a front brake. I need two of them to hold me back.
Those of us who know the trail insisted others side-track to the base of aptly-named Triple Decker Falls. The sign saying: “Only 3 minutes each way” helped to persuade them.
“It definitely was worth it,” they reported, “even though the trail is so steep and narrow.”
Luxurious growth now hides views of the falls from the main trail although we had heard them ever since leaving the vehicles.
Continuing downward through verdant scenes, we reached the next really steep bit where two alternatives were offered; a smooth, strong rope to hold, or a short gentler trail avoiding the hardest portion. Several of us appreciated that wee bypass while others tested their rappelling skills and the dogs scampered wherever.
I had forgotten how far down it was before we could hear the Clearwater River. The smoke kindly stayed well above so views of the water rushing along, way below us, could be fully appreciated from Osprey Point, just a few moments off the main trail.
Others were enjoying that river from a different vantage point.
“I saw a river raft!” announced bright-eyed Bonnie. And then we all heard yells of excitement. Perhaps they were bouncing through the white-water rapids that we had glimpsed.
We did eventually stop descending, sort of, with small ups and downs through the trees as we turned south paralleling the river. The next sound of trickling water was Candle Creek. Its waterfall was above us, but I confess initially paying more attention to the partial log offering secure seating near the bridge, and the munchies in my pack.
“First time I saw this I came up from the river,” I told anyone who might be listening.
“John and I had barely arrived in Clearwater, and a Teachers’ College friend was visiting from Australia. Our rafting trip stopped and out we clambered in wet suits and soft shoes to ascend the trail, crossed the bridge, scrambled up through the rocky bit, right behind the falls and into the pool at its foot.
“Neat! I saw the sign pointing to Clearwater and hoped sometime I would be hiking along it,” my reminiscences concluded.
As previously, we did not sit around and I now admit that relaxing on my log for too long had me moving a bit gingerly once we started off again. Soon we passed the well-worn trail still being used by intrepid white-water rafters.
The best is yet to come, I thought, knowing this included challenges that took us up through a rock fall with a lava cliff towering above us, and narrow trails that slanted towards a major drop-off down to the river.
“If I had to trip,” murmured brave Louise, “thank goodness it happened back up there in the trees instead down here.”
Ray was cheekier: “If I pulled this rock out from the bottom, would the whole cliff tumble down upon us?”
“Don’t touch it!” we yelled.
Another long, helpful rope appeared at the top of a slippery slope.
“Go backwards; it’s easier,” called Bonnie.
It certainly was. But twinkle-toed Nella simply danced all the way down beside me. This section is always colourful with yellow/orange lichen, hardy green plants wedged in between some rocks, and dripping water shining through elsewhere.
Still, this stretch requires close attention and strenuous effort (for some of us) so I was relieved when we completed the final steep upwards scramble to the open lane that led us home.
It’s the perfect place to walk side-by-side and chat, for the social aspect of our Friday hikes is as important to all of us as each incredible outdoor experience. Speaking of such … those of us at the back of the group suddenly heard the front-running dogs being called to heel.
Since civilization was practically in sight, we figured local dogs were “greeting” the intruders.
“There was a bear!” we soon heard.
And there too was Sandra’s van waiting patiently as it had done for three and a half hours. Drivers were returned to their vehicles and the borrowed ski pole replaced and ready for another customer.
Soon after that Strawberry Moose had a line-up of sweaty locals, each ordering their favourite brew and delicious munchies.
“Avoid exertion?” Next time…