The northern summer sun is still playing with me. I was up early again. After the running around of yesterday, I had me a nice slow morning, practicing Spanish and doing a bit of reading over brekkie at my picnic table. It was past 9am when I finally left camp, not to return to this spot again. I’d picked out a ride which was highly rated according to Trailforks. It was singletrack, which I’d been craving and would take me through the Valley of Five Lakes. I packed up camp and went on my way.

I drove a little ways past town and parked at the trailhead which was pretty empty apart from a group of French tourists that were getting a guided tour by a French ranger. In the time it took me to get my bike ready and kit up, the ranger had not stopped talking to the group. I’m sure she was listing all the precautions to be heeded for the duration of their trip. Sigh.

I rode away, easily finding the trails I wanted from the get go. After the first few hundred meters, the wide path narrowed into single track and I was loving it. I started with a sharp climb, but for the rest of the ride, the trail took me up and down with no climb longer than 100 meters. It was great riding and just what I felt like too. When I reached a climb I couldn’t summit, I walked off trail to the top of some rocks for a view into the valley. Autumn colours were far away but there was contrast in the trees thanks to some brown leaves poisoned by something. The mountains in the distance were washed out thanks to the morning haze, but they still stood prominent on the horizon.

Form there on, most of the climbs were manageable and despite my initial idea of taking it easy, I soon found myself hunched over the bars breathing heavily and pumping my legs to get to the top of each rocky climb. The satisfaction of making it to the top is just too tempting. When the trail trended downhill, I flew, exhilarated to be back on singletrack again. When the trail came out to the edge of a cliff looking down into a valley, I was even more excited.

Once I passed the ttrees in the valley, all I could see below me was a sharp aqua colour. I’d come upon my first lake. There was a steep trail leading down to the water so I took it and marvelled at the colour of the water. I’d been looking at glacial lakes for a few days now but it still blew me away.

I hiked-a-bike back to the trail and looked down at the long body of water as I rode along the edge of the top layer. A few minutes later, I came to the actual Valley of the Five Lakes, made obvious by the sign that read “First Lake” and another body of turquoise water. Without any wind, the water of each lake was relatively still, making great reflections of the trees on the surface.

Each lake looked like it had its own micro-environment with coral-looking shapes lurking beneath the surface but seemingly no visible life.

The third and fourth lakes sat around a peninsula that was home to “the red chairs” of the Canadian National Park System. Someone was rudely sitting in them so I wandered the small peninsula for different views of the lake before I could get a snap of me and my ride chilling.

On to the fifth lake, this one was biggest of all with a pier extending out a short way into the water. There were a couple of girls sitting at its end so I sat antisocially a little ways behind them, just admiring the expanse of water before me. With the tiny forested island in the middle of the lake, it was a pretty picture.

The ride back was even better than the one in, with plenty of technical stuff to keep me occupied. This is one of my favourite types of trail. Not overbuilt with man-made features, just a pathway carved into the already existing features of the land. The trail rose and fell, rose and fell and I loved every bit. I came across a lot more hikers now because we were near a carpark and I slowed for all of them, especially the ones that were sporting bear-deterring bells hanging off their person making ridiculous amounts of noises.

Near the end of the trail, I came out to the mighty river that I’d starter near so I knew I was close to the trailhead. I sat on the banks to have a snack and watch the churned up blue water flow past me at an alarming rate.

After I got back on the trail, I was riding along the cliff edge and the view was so good, I propped my bike up on the trail for a photo. By the time I’d walked into position, the bike fell over and I watched hopeless as she fell down the embankment. “Please stop! Please stop!” I pleaded as I watched her go and thankfully she stopped only a few meters down. I safely retrieved her, then took another trip further down to get my water bottle that had flung out right to the edge. I took the hint and made do with a photo not including my bike.

At the end of the trail, I carried my bike down some stairs and stowed everything away back in the car. It had warmed up so I did everything with my shirt off. While I was mucking around at the side door, I looked up to notice three bighorn sheep had congregated in the carpark. I exclaimed as much to the mother and son in the car next to me and they got out for a look, along with everyone else around. They hadn’t been there a minute ago, I had no idea where they’d come from! I stood watching them a while, unable to figure out why they were grazing in the middle of a gravel carpark instead of frolicking about in the dense forest that surrounded it.

Ready for lunch and a swim/shower, I drove towards Maligne lake. I’d read it was the highlight lake of Jasper so figured that would be an ideal last stop in the park. When I turned off and saw it was a 44km drive, I got turned off and stopped halfway to it at Medicine Lake instead. In my mind, this was by no means a compromise. I managed to find a boat ramp that was hardly populated and so made for a perfect shower spot.

After sussing it out, I went back to the car for my shower stuff and wandered down to the shore away from the one family that was down near the lake throwing rocks. From where I was, I could see the official lookout point where there were dozens of people. Sigh. I was far enough away that no one could see my naked arse as I dove into the water. Needless to say, it was bloody freezing so after a soap off and rinse, I felt more than refreshed.

I dried myself looking at the towering mountains of slate that rose above the lake. This was a beautiful place. I walked back to the car with my towel wrapped around me, probably stirring up controversy with the Asian tourists that were making their way down to the lake. I got myself dressed then made a big lunch to satisfy my hunger. With that, my time in the northern end of Jasper was done.

In town, I filled up with petrol and stopped in at the visitor’s centre for some information on the Icefields Parkway road and what I should stop to see on the way. I left with a map and some resemblance of a plan. The haze lingered in the sky so as I drove, I couldn’t quite see the mountains in all their glory, but that made them look all the more ominous. As I made my way south, I avoided deer and a family of white mountain goats.

My first stop was at Athabasca Falls, an impressive water flow that was absolutely raging. Beyond the waterfall, a canyon had been formed and there were plenty of viewpoints to explore. I shared the trail with lots of tourists, most brandishing selfie sticks, but that didn’t take away from the awe of the place, it was pretty cool.

Onwards south, I stopped at Sunwapta Falls. This was not as impressive but still worth the stop.

It was just past 4pm and I’d figured out that there were hikes worth doing in the Icefields just south of where we were. Considering this and the fact that I was ready to relax, I started scouting for a camp. Having paid $15 for the past two nights, I was on for a freebie so pegged a trailhead for a backcountry hike as my spot. I turned off at Poboktan Creek where there seemed to be an abandoned ranger station and huts. Maybe this would do? I didn’t get to think on it very long because I drove up to the only other car parked there and asked if they were ok. The kids were out of the car and the father was using the pay phone by the drive. The mother explained that they had a flat tyre and couldn’t get their spare out from under the car. I proposed that maybe I could help since I had some tools with me.

I parked and got out to see how I could help and found their small van packed with a full house of eight people (Mum, Dad, five kids and one grandchild). None of them were especially skinny either! Dad was on the phone so me and Mum had a look at the manual which told me the spare was under the car and could be dropped with a cable system, just like mine. The kids helped us unpack the back of the car so we could get to the access point. I found the jackhandle and started turning the nut in the floor of the boot. As I turned, I asked one of the kids to tell me if they saw the spare moving, which they did! Unfortunately this wasn’t the case, all they were seeing was the cable falling to the ground, leaving the spare wheel and handle in place. Hmmm.

I’d initially thought the family didn’t know how to get the tyre down, but now Mum explained that they’d tried this on previous occasions and had no luck. Hmmm. Dad still on the phone, I didn’t give up yet. After having a good look, I think I understood the problem and got me a screwdrive and my jack handle from my car. Just as I was trying to lever the tyre down off the frame using the jack handle, Dad had finished on the phone and came over to report that he’d tried this three times before and had no luck, though he admitted he couldn’t get as far under the car as I could. He also told us the tow truck was on its way. Since there was nothing to do in the meantime, I kept trying. Eventually, I managed to move the tyre enough using a screwdriver as leverage to jam my jack handle into the centre hole of the wheel and push from there. It took a few good heaves, but she came free. “Whoop!” I yelled out. I think Dad was a little ashamed that he hadn’t been able to do that and when his kids taunted him that an Aussie girl did what he couldn’t, I told them I was an engineer, so that should count for something. The wheel bracket had pretty much rusted into its nesting place along with a lot of the car’s underside. Salted roads in snow country is a bitch.

Next, we used the shitty scissor jack to get the front corner off the ground before switching to my bottle jack which made much lighter work of the lifting. After I got the car off the ground, I handed things over to Dad to put the new wheel on and he did so while I talked with the kids about who got the backseat. Thinking back to fighting with my sister in the back of the Paj all those years ago, we were in bloody heaven compared to what these kids were going through.

We put the car back on the ground and after spraying a liberal amount of WD-40 into the wheel brace housing, I employed one of the boys to turn the jack handle and reel in the cable while I held the flat tyre steady. After that, everyone wanted to help so when I got my track pump out to put a bit more air in the spare, they were lining up to have a go. Everyone thanked me profusely as I put my tools away and cleaned myself up. Seeing that my work was done, I left them to carefully repack everything into the back and went on my way. The boys waved enthusiastically and Mum and Dad were full of thanks as I drove away. I should mention that through all of this I was wearing a summer dress.

I only went across the bridge to the trailhead that was much more deserted than the abandoned station. Yes, this will do just fine. Reading the trail map, I was at the start of an epic 94km trek through the southern mountains. It sounded brilliant with one of the biggest lakes in the area and a trail that went right by a high glacier. Shame I can’t do everything! After saying hi to a cyclist that rode in to see if there was a short hike he could do, I walked down to the creek and was impressed at the view.

I activated my SPOT back at the car feeling quite pleased with myself. Surely no one would be checking this area. There were a few cars parked here anyway. I got my chair and table out and relaxed in the shade of the van. A few hours later, after having dinner and thinking about retiring into the van, I white truck rolled up. Shit, it was a ranger. I probably didn’t help myself by parking at an angle on flat ground away from every other car with my doors wide open. He came up all cheery faced and said, “You’re not staying here tonight are you?” “No sir, I’m waiting for some friends, then we’re heading south”. A few more questions and he was on his way. Shit.

I considered my options. There was a campground 7km down the road but it was 9pm and likely to be full. I could go back over to the abandoned station, but I suspected there were security cameras there. Then I had the bright idea that I could park it behind one of the two horse floats at the back of the carpark. I walked over to suss it out and though the area smelt terribly like horse shit, I would be practically invisible to anyone driving around the carpark.

I drove over to the spot and as I started manoeuvring in, I didn’t like it. Purposefully hiding the car didn’t give me the option of deniability, especially when I’d already been called out. Shit. Ok, so I drove down to the Jasper campground, hoping that the good karma I’d earned with the flat tyre would earn me a vacant site. Failing that, I’m sure I’d be able to share a site. I drove into the small campground and saw cars everywhere. Of course there’s not going to be a site. When I rolled past site #8 that had no tag on its post and nothing in the site, I couldn’t believe it. Good karma exists! It was the last site.

I considered sharing a site anyway since I felt bad taking up a whole site just for the sake of a carpark. I asked a couple that were at the self-registration station if they wanted to and they told me I shouldn’t worry about taking the last site so that was a no. Alright then, I paid another $15 for the privilege of the park. It was a nice spot, but the sites were super close together so there was no privacy. Because of the lowering temperature, I happily spent the rest of the night in the van relaxing.