Hiking The Rockwall Trail | Floe Lake Trailhead to Numa Pass | August 2005

The Rockwall Trail is a popular backcountry hiking trail located in Kootenay National Park, British Columbia. The trail is a roller coaster that extends 55 km / 34 miles along The Rockwall, a limestone wall of rock that in places reaches 900 m / 2952 feet high. There are three access points to The Rockwall Trail: via Floe Lake in the south, via the Paint Pots in the north or via Numa Creek. The following is an account of a trip I made beginning at the Floe Lake trailhead and ending at Numa Pass, the highest point along The Rockwall Trail.

I had originally intended to do this hike in 2003. I arrived in the mountains that year to find several large wildfires burning. I remember getting out of my vehicle at Lake Louise and being struck by the smoke haze and by the smell of butterscotch. The smoke smell combined with the natural odour of pine had created the unique fragrance. It was both pleasant and ominous. 

2003 was the third driest year in a century old record. Lightning had started several fires in the Rocky Mountain parks that year. Most were put out but two fires proved difficult to contain. Eventually those two fires, the Tokumm Creek fire and the Verendrye Creek fire, merged and consumed 12.6% of Kootenay National Park (17,409 hectares or 67 square miles). Several popular natural attractions including the Marble Canyon interpretive trail were destroyed. The Alpine Club of Canada's Fay Hut was also destroyed. So too were the bridges over the Vermilion River and Floe Creek which formed part of The Rockwall Trail. The trail was therefore closed from the Floe Creek trailhead to Floe Lake, the route I wished to take. This portion of the trail didn't re-open until the summer of 2005.

I arrived in 2005 to fresh mountain air and only the smell of pine trees. A welcome change from two years previous. I spent a few days doing day hiking trips to get myself into shape and to get used to the higher elevation then left the soft bed, hot shower and cable TV behind for my adventure along The Rockwall Trail.

Day 1 - Trailhead to Floe Lake

I left Lake Louise early for the drive to the Floe Lake trailhead. It was one of those miserable mountain mornings; cold and raining with so much fog the mountains weren't visible. I drove east along the Trans Canada highway toward Banff then turned off onto the Banff-Windermere highway (93) heading south. As I headed south, the weather began to improve; the fog dissipated, the rain tapered off and by the time I arrived at the trailhead the sun was shining. Perfect hiking weather. It's always amazed me how quickly mountain weather changes. 

I pulled into the spacious parking lot and found several vehicles but not surprisingly none with Saskatchewan plates. Most of the vehicles were from the usual places of Alberta and B.C. with a few from the United States. I walked to the large information kiosk at the trailhead to see if any warnings were posted. There were none except for a falling tree caution (due to the 2003 fires). I read the trail description, "moderate to strenuous with 2 km of very steep switchbacks just before reaching the lake, 3 - 4 hours one way." The trailhead elevation was 1348 m / 4423 ft. Floe Lake was at 2040 m / 6693 ft. There was work to be done. I had prepared my 23 kg / 50 lb pack the previous night so I put it on, grabbed my trekking poles and set off.

The area I was about to hike through had burned in 2003. All the trees were dead but the undergrowth had regenerated. There were pockets of green everywhere punctuated by bright pink Fireweed flowers. Fireweed is a pioneer species that appears in areas of soil disturbance like burned forest hence its name. Its seeds lay dormant until the soil is exposed to light then germinate often carpeting the area with dense stands of pink flowers. The fire had burned right up to the highway. In fact, one of the trailhead signs had melted from the heat.

I left the parking lot and began hiking through an open relatively flat area of burned trees. After 0.5 km / 0.3 miles, I reached the bridge over the Vermilion River. The original Vermilion River bridge had burned in the 2003 fire and had just been re-built. In fact, the trail to Floe Lake had only just re-opened in July. The Vermilion River was a stunning turquoise colour and was quite striking set against its grey shale banks and the burned forest surrounding it. The river ran southeast roughly parallel to the highway.

Once across the sturdy re-built bridge, I hiked uphill for a short distance until the trail levelled off as it traversed the "end" of the mountain and approached the glacier carved valley through which flows Floe Creek. I crossed the metal bridge over Floe Creek (fire had destroyed the original), hiked steeply uphill then after awhile began a series of long switchbacks to gain elevation on the "end" of Numa Mountain. The length of each switcback made them relatively pleasant to hike unlike the shorter steeper variety that can be quite difficult. Eventually, the switchbacks ended and I found myself hiking along the slopes of Numa Mountain and finally into the valley far above Floe Creek. The valley end slowly came into view through the trees as I hiked dominated by the massive Rockwall and its glaciers. This was my destination.

The hike through the burned lodgepole pine forest was quite warm as the needleless trees offered little shade but a gentle breeze did offer welcome respite from the heat. The "opened" forest allowed more of the sun's energy to reach the forest floor resulting in a profusion of new growth. Wildflower seeds that had laid dormant for years could finally germinate and grow. Fire plays an important natural role in the forest ecosystem and is crucial to the lodgepole pine life cycle. The lodgepole pine seed cones are coated with a thick resin. Only fire can melt the resin and allow the cone to open releasing the seeds within.

The narrow trail steadily gained elevation as it traversed the slopes of Numa Mountain toward the Rockwall. It passed through several (6 or 7 - I lost count) thickly vegetated avalanche slopes as it made its way west. Innumerable winter avalanches have stripped trees from narrow bands on the slopes allowing new growth to flourish. There was quite a contrast between the avalanche bands and the rest of the slope. Traversing these avalanche areas proved a bit frustrating in a couple of ways. 

The tall vegetation on the trail side would ensnare my trekking poles making it difficult to bring them forward. It would only do this to the pole on the up-side of the slope. I solved this problem by dragging this up-side pole behind me as I went then started using it again once I left the thicker vegetation. 

The avalanche slopes were also a "worn out" channel so I would have to hike down into them and up out of them. I remember thinking that they should be filled in or a bridge put over them. I realize this isn't practical but it is frustrating to go down knowing you ultimately have to go up. This portion of the trail went for about 4.5 km / 2.8 miles and was quite pleasant (not very strenuous). I did encounter one area of switchbacks but they weren't very challenging.

As I approached the end of the valley, the vegetation became thicker and living trees made an appearance. At one point, I came across a "chair" made of pieces of shale that some enterprising soul had fashioned. The view from it was toward the other side of the valley and was quite pleasant. Despite the view, I resisted the temptation to sit down and continued on.

I came to a stream crossing the trail and thought this would be a good spot to drop my pack and take a break. I soaked a bandana in the cool water and held it to my face to cool off. The temperature had warmed up to about 25 degrees C / 77 F and the gentle breeze that had been blowing no longer reached me. I munched on trail mix and enjoyed the freedom of being momentarily packless then after about 15 minutes, I reluctantly put my pack back on, carefully crossed the two rather slick logs that served as a bridge and continued hiking until I reached the end of the valley.

There was a cascade of water streaming down the valley headwall, its source being the glaciers that clung to the Rockwall far above me. I continued above and along this stream for awhile then turned into a part of the forest that hadn't been touched by fire. I encountered a large flat topped boulder a short distance into the forest just the right height for sitting on and sat down to rest my legs. At this point I had hiked about 8 km. I would need the rest; the boulder marked the beginning of 2 km / 1.2 miles of gruelling switchbacks.

I continued slowly up the very steep trail, stopping frequently to rest. There were several spots where the trail had fallen away. It took some creative use of trekking poles to get around them. There were also some wet trail areas where small streams or springs flowed across the narrow trail. These had logs sunk into them which were likely intended to stabilize the trail but the logs were smooth and slippery so great caution had to be taken while crossing them.

What made these switchbacks so gruelling, in addition to their steepness, was their psychological length; they seemed never ending. Every time I looked up all I saw were the roots of more trees above me meaning I had more work to do to reach the top. I don't know how much time it took me to reach the top of the switchbacks (an hour or 1.5 hours perhaps), but it seemed like an eternity. However, they did end. The trail finally levelled out and after 0.5 km / 0.3 miles or so of hiking through Larch forest I reached the Floe Lake campground. My total hiking time had been 4.5 hours.

There were signs as you entered the campground that attempted to convey where exactly you were in relation to the tent sites but they failed miserably at this. I'm normally pretty good with maps but these signs were beyond me. The sign topic came up in later conversations with other hikers. It turned out that I wasn't the only person confused.

The camping area is split into two levels. The trail that leads into the campground comes in between the two levels and ultimately leads to a Warden's cabin and to the trail to Numa Pass and the rest of The Rockwall Trail. If you are looking for a tent site and see the Warden's cabin you have gone too far. Turn around and take one of the spur trails that lead up or down from the main trail to find a site. The down trails are closest to the lake and have the nicest views. The very rustic toilet facilities are located on the top most level. There are two of them: one above and behind the Warden's cabin and the other straight up from the peninsula cooking area (the "peninsula" cooking area is a rocky outcrop that juts out into the lake on which a few tables have been built). There is another cooking area on a higher level.

When I arrived at the campground, most of the tent sites were occupied. It took a lot of walking around (the confusing signs not helping) to locate a site. However, I found a double tent pad just up from the peninsula cooking area that was half vacant. It was more exposed with less privacy than some of the others but it was also one of the closest to Floe Lake. This would be my home for 3 nights.

I set up my tent then walked around for awhile to get my bearings. The scenery was spectacular. Immediately behind Floe Lake loomed the enormous Rockwall with glaciers sweeping in toward the lake at its base. I decided the view was well worth the effort.

Clouds had moved in during my search for a tent site. As I ate supper, the weather began to deteriorate. It began to rain, gently at first then hard. The people next to me had set up a tarp between the trees just down from our tents and were kind enough to invite me to share their shelter. We talked for an hour or so then dashed for our tents. I began reading the book "Oryx and Crake" by Margaret Atwood then let the raindrops thrumming on the tent lull me to sleep.

Day 2 - Floe Lake Campground

It rained most of the night but by morning it had stopped. The clouds remained threatening throughout breakfast, broke up a bit around 9:00 am then carried through on their threats; it began to rain again. It rained steadily the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. I was confined to my tent reading more "Oryx and Crake" trying to stay warm. The temperature dropped quite sharply in the early afternoon and snowflakes began to mix with the rain. At about 2:00 pm, the clouds broke up, the sun came out, the temperature rose literally 20 degrees C and it was gorgeous for the rest of the day. When I emerged from my tent, I noticed the top of the Rockwall behind the lake was white with snow. Ahh, the mountains in August!! The people next to me had packed up and hiked out during the rain. I didn't envy them. Later that day I had new neighbours move in; an exhausted Laura and Sherry from Atlanta, Georgia. I spent the remainder of that day doing some photography, reading and hiking around the lake.

Many people in the campground (Hello to Lee and June) had remarked on the large number of American hikers they encountered along the Rockwall Trail. When the American hikers were asked where they had heard about the trail they all said, "Backpacker Magazine." I mean they ALL said, "Backpacker Magazine." Later I asked Laura and Sherry where they had heard about the trail. Guess what they said?

That evening the sky was completely clear. I was hoping for a clear evening because this was one of the two nights when the Perseid meteor shower was at its peak (August 13th). I stumbled out of my tent at midnight and walked down to the lakeshore. I set up my camera hoping to capture some meteors on film and did a few 30 minute exposures. During this time a number of meteors had streaked through the sky but unfortunately I didn't capture any on film. I did get a nice star trail photograph though. I tried more 30 minute exposures but the direction I had the camera pointed proved popular with commercial aircraft so I packed up the camera and stumbled back to my tent.

I crawled back into my now cold sleeping bag and tried to fall asleep but I kept hearing strange noises emanating from the direction of my neighbours' tent. At first I thought there might be an asthmatic bear nearby then I realized one or both of my neighbours were snoring (sorry ladies) ;-)

Day 3 - Numa Pass

The next day, my last at Floe Lake, dawned clear, cold and calm. I had been waiting for just such a morning. I wanted to photograph the glaciers reflected in the calm waters of Floe Lake. The sun lit the top of the Rockwall behind the lake at about 5:50 am but didn't reach the bottom of the wall until 6:30 am. By that time the wind had picked up disturbing the water's surface. The sunrise was beautiful though. Nature doesn't always co-operate with photographers. I took a few photographs anyway then thought about my next destination, Numa Pass.

I started the hike to Numa Pass at about 8:30 am. The trail winds steadily upward through Larch forest then switchbacks gently up hillsides full of alpine wildflowers before making the final push straight up to the pass. The flowers were spectacular! I have never seen so many different flowers blooming all at once. They included reddish Indian Paintbrush, purple Asters, yellow Golden Asters and fuzzy Western Anemone seed heads. Absolutely stunning! There was hillside after hillside of them. They continued all the way up to Numa Pass although their numbers thinned as the elevation increased. The point at which the trail reached the pass was marked by a stone cairn. This was more for the benefit of hikers coming from Numa Creek than from Floe Lake as the trail disappears on top of the shale pass. The cairn gives hikers something to aim for. I reached Numa Pass (elevation 2363 m / 7752 ft) at 9:20 am.

The sky was cloudless but a bit hazy and there was a cold brisk wind blowing over the pass so I didn't linger too long. I set up my camera and took several exposures of the Rockwall and Floe Lake beneath it. The view was southeast and stunning! The view the opposite direction was of the distant backs of the Wenkchemna Peaks that surround Moraine Lake. The top of the pass was comprised of fractured shale. I had been to a number of mountain passes before but the composition of Numa Pass was unique. I descended from the pass, lingering in the meadow below and on the flower filled hillsides. When I reached camp, I found a place to sit along the shore of Floe Lake and spent the remainder of the day appreciating its beauty.

Day 4 - The Last Morning

My last morning at Floe Lake dawned clear and cold (below freezing) as usual. I climbed out of my tent, walked down to Floe Lake and took a few moments to again appreciate where I was and the beauty that was before me. I took several deep breaths of the crisp morning air savouring every lungfull and dipped my hand into the cold lake waters to let the lake know that I was there. 

I retrieved my food from the squeaky bear pole and prepared breakfast at one of the peninsula tables. I ate breakfast with the other campers, some of which had arrived the same day as me and others who were experiencing their first morning in this amazing place. The look of awe on their faces as they watched the sun gradually light the Rockwall made me wonder if that was the expression on my face that first morning three days ago. 

I stood on the shale shoreline of Floe Lake for one last look trying to absorb as much of the beauty as I could, wondering if I would ever return. I slowly packed up camp not really wanting to leave then headed out. I was concerned about how difficult descending the switchbacks was going to be but the concern turned out to be unfounded. Before I knew it, I was at the switchback bottom heading out of the valley.

I was hiking along a relatively flat trail section about halfway to the trailhead when I encountered a few hikers on their way in. They asked me the age old hiking question, "how much farther is it?" I lied and said, "not too far." It took me 4 hours to reach the Floe Lake parking lot.

Once at the trailhead I happily removed my heavy pack, put it in my vehicle and munched on a chocolate bar I had left myself as a reward for making it back. I walked the short distance back to the Vermilion River bridge, leaned on the railing and spent some time listening to the river beneath me. I enjoyed basking in the warm sun and the gentle breeze then slowly returned to my vehicle.

I drove slowly from the parking area then, through the trees, I caught one final glance of the distant Rockwall. I thanked the mountains for such a memorable trip, said a silent farewell and drove home.