Hasnain Raza Baloach

At last, my faithful readers and friends I am back with another tale. One that took place a couple of fortnights back but could not be told for I was caught up with all the surprises that life can bring. If only one of those surprises involved a million dollars.. or at least a horse. Southern Alberta and its surroundings were barely getting out of a spring snowstorm when Blserp and I decided that we want to go a little further in life and travels. We decided on a trail close to the ever popular Emerald Lake, located just past the border of British Columbia and beside an avalanche area that everybody tells you not to get close to. Right from the get-go, it seemed like a day very unlike others, an ethereal day. Our surroundings, the atmosphere, the temperature, and the views were all a sight to behold. Maybe it had to do with the shifting of seasons, or maybe it was just a unique day, but on the way to our destination, we passed slight patches of rain, gleaming sunshine, a colorful rainbow, lowered clouds, and a herd of caribou minding their own business.

Before turning onto the road that ended where Emerald Lake began, we saw a sign pointing towards a parking lot that said “Natural Bridge”. We were intrigued, and so we turned. Initially, upon seeing the bridge, I reacted in disbelief and mocking humor, just as many people do when I tell them I have a life. The reason for my perfectly reasonable reaction was that the so-called “natural” bridge was made of concrete. Regardless of that though, the views of the carefully crafted waterfall and creek with nature as their architect, were breathtaking. I being who I am, was not satisfied and soon did discover that the nature-made bridge was, in fact, on top of the waterfall but had eroded over time and fallen. I got as close to it as I could but didn’t try jumping to the other end because I swim about as confidently and effectively as a white walker.

We did make it to Emerald Lake but upon arrival, our phones decided to have freedom from all signals (see what I did there), and so we didn’t really know where the actual trail was. We ended up consulting a lady in a gift shop at the tip of the lake and that decision shaped the rest of our adventures for the day. Following our guide’s directions, we decided to cross a little part of the frozen lake which was supposed to connect to the trail for the day. After walking on the ice for a while and seeing no sight of the trail, I decided to just go inside the forest and hope for the best, but the best is not what followed. It was the season where the cumulative tons of snow from the winter had thawed and gotten softer, so upon my first step into the forest I fell into a leg-deep hole in the snow. Blserp followed suit and didn’t have any better luck than me. At this point, it was either turn back or forward and so forward we went, determined to get to the visible trail right ahead without too much of a hassle. That plan lasted about 5 more steps because Blserp fell again into the snow. Blserp got out but one of the shoes he was wearing didn’t; it was nowhere to be found.

It was time for the search and rescue of the missing shoe. I found the closest thing to a shovel that I could (which was a faithful twig) and started digging. What I didn’t realize was that during my enthusiastic attempt at tunneling for the shoe, I was also digging myself a convenient hole to get stuck in. We saw many hikers pass by and with them passed our hope for seeing magnificent sights on the trail. It took around 25 minutes before I came across the shoe and another 15 just trying to dig it out for it had become frozen in the ice that was surrounding it. Just as all dreams eventually do come true, with dedication and work, we got out of it and finally joined the trail leading to the hike. We passed by some magnificent tall curved trees whilst looking at the sights but at this point, the sights were not what occupied my mind. It was the fact that every 5 steps I would fall into a waist-deep pile of snow. After about the 20th fall, I decided that this mountain had it in for me, and by the 25th I practically stormed, slid and crawled my way back to the frozen lake with Blserp on my tail and preferred to walk back on the melting ice compared to the snow. Fortunately, the ice didn’t break and we made it back to the car in one piece. The day had not ended yet and much more happened but that “much more” is a tale for another day. I hope everyone’s late winters and early springs were as absolutely charming as mine were.