Lisa and I often have conversations that discuss the potential reasons why strange,
Deciding to flee town for a change of pace and scenery, we eagerly headed out to Grassi Lakes, right outside of Canmore. Both of us had seen the hike during the summer and decided it might be a perfect afternoon out of Calgary. Chatting excitedly and catching up on each other’s lives, we drove out into the spectacular back drop of the Rockies which always reminds me why I love Alberta.
We get geared up and headed out on the trail. Less than fifteen minutes into the journey we come to the sign which sums up our friendship: EASY (with arrow) MORE DIFFICULT (with arrow). First pausing to take a photo of the sign, we charged forward to the More Difficult path with the eagerness that only athletic people have; knowing full well that the pursuit of the recreation wouldn’t be entirely enjoyable without the temporary or semi-permanent exhaustion that comes with pushing yourself for no other reason besides it is fun (or maybe mentally sick) to do so.
Almost one hour later, with only a slightly raised heart rate, we come across a stream, then another, then a frozen one. Actually, it is more like a field of ice, stretching forward with a small cliff to our immediate left. Foolishly, we spend between fifteen and twenty minutes trying to navigate the ice before deciding it would be more fun to go UP and OVER the ice field. We step backwards and then climb up. We fight through a mix of moss, swamp, mud, ice, low lying branches (keep in mind we are no longer on a path) before a close slip of ice encounter we decide to retrace our steps and head back to the very start of the trail and do the EASY path.
Tails between our legs, we arrive back at the start of the path and hit the EASY trail (which we did with a trail running vigor in order to outpace families with small kids, older folks with dogs, and anyone who we thought generally we might be able to kick their asses). We are only moments away from the Lakes when I realize, in horror, I recognized a small patch of trees with orange pest control flags. We stop to look, and realize that we had bushwhacked for almost forty five minutes AND THEN TURNED BACK AROUND when we were literally only TEN FEET AWAY FROM THE UPPER EASY PATH. We paused. There were few words. We laughed. It wouldn’t be us if it somehow wasn’t this ridiculous.