Hiking highs in the Rocky Mountains

I have biked and hiked then fallen asleep exhausted in my share of backwoods campsites. But somewhere in my travels I became lured by luxury in the wild, and last September I headed for an all-inclusive holiday called Fall High Adventure. The event, the brainchild of fitness guru and passionate hiker Charlene Prickett, offers challenging hikes with a soft bed to sink into at day's end. But that's an understatement, for the trails traverse the magnificent peaks and glacial lakes of Banff National Park, and the beds are in the lavish Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise. The 35 participants, hikers and urban escapees from all over the U.S. and Canada, were attracted not only by the promise of several levels of hikes per day to choose from, but by additional activities such as golfing and fly-fishing, photography and painting, yoga and aerobics.

Walking in the clouds
The first morning, six of us set off along the Plain of Six Glaciers trail with Bruce Bembridge, one of two naturalists employed by the Chateau. The beginning of the trail, which is about 3.3 miles (5.3 km) one way, starts out the door of the hotel along the shore of Lake Louise; beyond, it climbs gradually through a forest of spruce and fir, then opens up to a barren moraine, providing views of surrounding peaks -- or so we're told; we're walking in clouds so thick we can barely see the person ahead of us, let alone distant peaks. But Bembridge stops often to describe the geology, history and wildlife of the region, filling in the spaces we can't see and enhancing those we can. Eventually the clouds become a drizzle, and the chilled group is happy to stop for tea at Plain of Six Glaciers Teahouse -- a rustic log cabin built in 1924 by the Canadian Pacific. Fuelled up, we set off again in light rain to complete the last kilometre of trail. As we strap on our backpacks we hear a rumbling. Thunder, I think, just as Bembridge shouts, "avalanche," and points in the direction of a smoke of snow rolling down a distant mountainside. For everyone an avalanche -- viewed from a safe distance -- is a thrill.

About 30 minutes later we're on a low ridge that leads to the trail's namesake lookout; though clouds obscure the promised panoramic view, we can see some peaks and Victoria Glacier, with crevasses that, says Bembridge, "are big enough to swallow a car." We snap some photos with frozen fingers and as we return along the trail, it begins to rain -- hard. But I don't care; I'm heading back to a five-star hotel where a stretch class, hot bath and bountiful dinner await. What harm is a little rain?

At dinner, someone from each group recounts what they did that day; while we walked in clouds and rain, those who'd been golfing in the valley below hit balls in the bright September sun. Overnight it snows.

The power of poles
The next morning it's sunny and cold and I opt for the intermediate level full-day hike. The difficult full-day hike is meant only for "vets," repeat guests who are deemed experienced and fit enough to tough out an extra-challenging day on the trails. As I relax over breakfast, one of the vets rushes over and asks if I'd like to join their hike. "Bruce said you're fit and could handle our trip. Can you be ready in 10 minutes?" Without time to think, my ego inflated, I jump at the opportunity. It isn't until I'm in the van en route to the trailhead that I discover the real reason I've been asked. The vets are headed to Paradise Valley, where grizzlies have been sighted and, according to park regulations, they need a sixth person, since bears have never been known to attack a group of six or more. In other words, I am bear repellent. I'm now afraid -- not of seeing a bear, which I'd love to do, but of not being able to keep pace with the vets.

Looking for other vacation ideas? How about a ranch getaway?

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