It’s been a little over 6 years since I’ve officially started backpacking; a dedicated effort to get out into the weeds of the province I’ve spent my entire twenty eight year old life in. I say officially, because being raised in the heart of the Kootenays, I’ve always been familiar with getting outdoors and seeing what this ‘nature stuff’ is all about.

I just wasn’t quite aware of how much of this ‘nature stuff’ there was in BC.

My childhood friend, Chris, (also a devoted fan of the great outdoors), messaged the group chat early one spring morning. His message said something like this.

“Booked 4 spots to Berg Lake trail start of Summer, who’s in?”

“Berg Lake Trail” I thought to myself – kind of sounds like burger lake trail. I like burgers. We could bring burgers on the trail! 

Obviously, this line of thinking was ambiguous at best, but I was still in bed when I got the message. Who knows where my head was at when I first read it.

Later that afternoon, probably during one of my half baked daydreams while procrastinating something I really should be doing, I reminded myself of the trail of burgers and did some googling. 

Immediately I was hooked. The water. The glaciers. What is this place, and why have I not heard about it?

“I’m in” I typed back to the group chat.

We ended up filling the four spots for the trip with a ragtag motley crew of childhood friends, all of whom have grown up in our small area of the Kootenays.

Not one to lie, the hike up was a grind. Many people decide to split up the trail to the lake with multiple nights, taking their time to enjoy the scenery on the way up and stop to camp when the kilometers start to feel heavy.

We didn’t do that, deciding instead to power through to the campsite we had booked at the far end of the trail.

I could get into the minute details of the trip – the kilometers hiked, which camp we stayed at, how many clif bars I brought so I didn’t have a hypoglycemic-induced-anxiety attack, (I brought eight), but that won’t do it justice. You’ll have to strap on your waterproof trail runners and overpriced Arc’teryx to come see it yourself.

It’s the smaller moments I want to talk about – they usually have a way of making the biggest impacts anyways.

So there we were, day three of our trip.

By now, we had accomplished the hike up to the lake, set up camp, and become familiar with our surroundings of imposing peaks and alpine wilderness.

The morning was crisp and sunny. After a good night’s sleep, the four of us found ourselves with a little pep in our step. We had seen the bondi blue water, we had seen the Berg Lake Glacier in all its glory, and we were ready for more.

There’s an offshoot of the Berg Lake trail called the Snowbird Pass. That’s where we went, if not for any other reason than it had a big sign with an arrow pointing to unknown mountains in the distance. Who couldn’t resist that?

The Snowbird trail led us directly to another glacier sitting underside Mt. Robson, aptly named Robson Glacier. Icebergs, glacial pools, and towering rock walls clouded our vision. We had never seen anything like this before, hypnotized by the beauty right in our own backyards.

We kept following the trail up and up, and finally settled on an overlooking ledge hundreds of meters in elevation above the glacier.

The humbling feeling of staring at something that has been on this earth so much longer than yourself is hard to put into words.

Crack..

CRACK..

Sploosh

“Did you hear that?” one of us muttered.

We looked down into the glacial lake below us and spotted small ripples in the water. 

A piece of the iceberg had just fallen off.

Again, we heard a loud crack echo through the valley. The iceberg was shifting, changing its physicality right before our eyes.

I think this was a pivotal moment for all of us. Who knows when the four of us would get together again to explore something like this, if ever again? The view we shared won’t be the same in ten years. The glacier will continue to shift, melt, and evolve.

It can be hard to realize the impact we’re having on our planet. 

But sitting there, the four of us in a trance like state on the ridge, we couldn’t deny it. The earth was changing in front of our eyes.

God willing, in the future, the four of us can visit that spot again; I hope the view will feel familiar.