By Laurie Skreslet
"When I'm away from home, in a foreign land, and
I'm run down and hurting, sometimes I lean back
and close my eyes and find myself drifting back to
Yamnuska. I can feel the wind in that area and
hear the trees when the wind passes through them
and they speak. I can taste the water that comes
from Yamnuska's underground streams, and I feel
the accomplishment, fear, and deep satisfaction
that I have experienced in 32 years of climbing on
that mountain. I've been to a lot of places in this
world, but none of them feel like home the way
that mountain does".
I made that statement 4 years ago, and it holds true
to this day. I believe we each have special places in
this world that rejuvenate and re-energize us when
we visit or dream about them--places that help us
feel the vitality in our life. That place for me is the
mountain we call Yamnuska.
My name is Laurie Skreslet, and I would like to tell
you a story about this mountain so that you, too,
may discover its magic.
To find Yamnuska, you drive west out of Calgary,
approximately 80 kilometers along the Trans
Canada highway. Just before entering the Bow
Valley, you look towards the North, and you will
see a large fan-shaped peak, the first mountain on
the Eastern slope of the Rockies. This is
Yamnuska.
The steep south face of this mountain is over a
kilometer and a half long and 330 metres tall at it
highest point. That makes it a major attraction for
rock climbers, but hikers can also make their way
to the summit by following a series of moderate
trails located on the back (north) side of Yamnuska.
Although that route is an 860 metre hike, starting
from the parking lot at the bottom of the mountain,
the easy access provided by the trails attract a
broad range of people.
In the spring of 1994, I took my 6 year old
daughter Natasha for a hike up Yamnuska. We
camped out the night before under the mountain.
While I set our tent up, she built and lit the
campfire, which she tended with glee. Afterwards,
we went "pretend exploring" in the dark forest
with flashlights and sharpened sticks. The sticks
were in case we met any bears. Luckily, we didn't!
The next morning, we set off early and stopped at a large boulder in the forest to make a tobacco offering. This is an aboriginal spiritual practice taught to me by a native friend. The intention is to show your respect for the "spirit of the land" by offering something of traditional value (tobacco) and to ask for permission to enter an area. Natasha participated in the ceremony, helping me scatter the tobacco to the four directions, and then we headed up the mountain. |
|
Since Natasha had attempted to climb the mountain a number of times before, she was quite familiar with the terrain and route. Three hundred metres up the mountain, we encountered a pair of women from France who did not speak English and who seemed quite upset. Since Natasha speaks fluent French, she translated for me that they had lost their way on the trail. I suggested Natasha tell them to follow her, as we would eventually link up with the main trail. I also suggested to my daughter that she go first, as I had to fix my pack.
Natasha told them this and then proceeded to hike up the mountain. I pretended to fix my pack while I watched the 2 ladies look at each other and then quickly catch up to Natasha and stay close to her for the rest of the way. Natasha would tell me later they couldn't stop talking about this little girl who had saved them, spoke French, and was a miniature mountain guide, as well.
At the base of the steep cliffs, Natasha got the ladies on the correct trail and we then proceeded onto the North side of the mountain. The weather got colder as we continued up. An hour later, it was really windy, and the trail was icy in places. Natasha slipped a few times and lost confidence in her footholds. She told me she was beginning to get scared. So I assured her we could turn around, if she wanted, but asked her to let me explain something to her first.
When I suggested that Natasha ask the mountain for help, she told me she didn't understand. So I explained to her that when we become afraid, we lose our ability to see clearly. Our fear can make us blind to what is real. I pointed out that I could see the footholds and handholds, so it wasn't as though they had disappeared. Maybe she could ask the mountain to help her see more clearly, to show her where to put her feet and hands and how to hold her balance.
She thought about it then said "OK, I will ask". We then continued climbing, with Natasha moving more confidently than before. Ahalf hour later, the weather got worse, and we decided we had reached what would be our high point for the day.
To read the entire article pick up your copy of the Visitor Guide |
