“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”

– Blanche DuBois from Tennessee Williams’- A Streetcar Named Desire

 

Not all knights arrive on a white charger.

Sometimes they swoop down in a helicopter.

 

 

Allow me to explain…

You only have to look at Facebook to know we like to paint a very rosy picture of our lives, showing our perpetually smiling faces in all manner of beautiful places. It’s rather funny because I think we are all well aware that many of our peak experiences come with a few less-than-optimum conditions.

Take, for instance, our recent six-day backpacking trip in Mt. Robson Provincial Park.

The Berg Lake Trail is consistently ranked as one of the top hikes anywhere. There are good reasons for that. All of them are natural and all are filed under the category labelled, “WOW”.

And, until this trip, I understood that there was only one way to see all this and that was to don a pack, have your friends throw on theirs, and start a sweaty hike.

This is not a problem. I happen to love hiking.

And all those top ten lists were right about the drama of the Berg Lake Trail. It is a natural destination that is unrivalled with anywhere I’ve ever been.

Emperor Falls made me clap and want to dance while simultaneously falling to my knees. I have never felt so close to the power of a waterfall as that thundering flow of infinity.

 

 

Then there was the awesome magnificence of the rumbling glaciers as they broke and avalanched into pockets of icy Caribbean-coloured lakes. Add in the weighty timelessness of the mountains and it was hard not to just stay slowly turning in one place, overwhelmed by the beauty that slammed us from all sides.

 

 

But, as I mentioned, there are often costs. Something as wonderful as this trail needs to be earned. In my case, I thought it would only be my knees that would pay the price.

I came prepared. I had the sports tape and the wonderful ibuprofen cream that helped numb those tendons that run down the calf and feel like rubber bands ready to snap. I knew too, that we would be doing a lot of driving after the hike and my knees would have plenty of time to recover.

But there are other not-so-Facebook-shiny moments.

Sleeping arrangements can also take their toll.

 

 

Technically, we have a two-person tent.  We can, indeed, shove our two tall bodies into the space. But this leaves no space for our monolithic backpacks. Our vestibule barely holds our shoes. This, of course, is fine in good weather. Not so great when it’s a thundering nighttime rain.  Luckily, Kevin had thrown in an extra tarp that solved that issue.

As far as I’m concerned there is no bigger price to a backpacking trip then having to crawl out of a sodden tent into the pouring rain with a right leg that doesn’t really bend so one can try to pee behind a tiny scrubby tree.

Truly.

Which brings me round to the rather delicate and somewhat embarrassing reason for the white knight’s rescue.

You know that old fable of how the elephant is taken down by a splinter?  Well, this reason kind of feels like that. It sounds small, but trust me, when it’s happening, oh my, it feels more like a focused bonfire than a tiny burning splinter.

At this point, I think I should also add that I am often described as optimistic. But optimism has a tricky tendency of being very up-close and cosy with another trait called denial.

We left on Monday morning. On Tuesday morning I told myself everything was fine, especially when the symptoms seemed to recede during the day. But by Wednesday morning, there was no denying the facts.  I was in the throes of a bladder infection.

Even I could not pretend it was okay.

I needed to get to a medical clinic and I couldn’t wait for our Saturday hike out.

A few days prior we had met some other hikers that told us about Robson Helimagic, a helicopter company that flies hikers in and out from a field near the Robson Pass campground.

They only operated on Mondays and Fridays.

We happened to be camped at Robson Pass. Thursday morning, just as Kevin was about to hike to the nearby ranger station to ask for help, the Park Ranger walked by.  She radioed Robson Helimagic.

The next morning, my white knight, aka Matt, arrived.

The skies were blue. The clouds were puffy and white. We lifted off and the fan-shapes of the streams and rivers revealed all their twists and turns. I swear I could have almost touched the cliffs as Matt guided the helicopter over the scree. The turquoise ice in the twisted hoodoo shapes of the glaciers glowed close beneath us. I gasped when the forest floor fell away beneath my feet and the icy blue of Berg Lake appeared far below.

The unparalleled beauty that I had so admired from the trail was even more staggering from above.

So. Here’s the thing. The Berg Lake Trail is truly – no exaggeration – magnificent.

And, as it turns out, there are other ways in.

I would still recommend hiking it yourself. The reward of the accomplishment far outweighs most discomforts.

But if you’re not up for the hike, or if you need to get out fast, book a white-knight flight with Robson Helimagic.

Then, simply wait for your personal charger to swoop down out of the sky and whisk you away.

 

 

This post is written with heartfelt gratitude for the discovery of antibiotics, and with sincere thanks to our Canadian Healthcare system and to Dr. Koo at the Valemount Health Clinic. I’d also like to thank the wonderful BC Park ranger who radioed for help and my sympathetic and understanding friends and husband,  and, last, but not at all least, Robson Helimagic, for not only delivering me to their base, but then driving me back to our car at the trailhead. You guys rock. 

I am truly blessed and oh-so-grateful.

 

PS. Here is a link to a short video at one of our stops.Mountain Magic – Colleen Friesen