For many families like ours, taking company to the waterfalls of Wells Gray Park is The Law. But when the visitors have come often and are hikers, adjustments are called for. “Where are you taking us this time?” asked Mary from West Vancouver and Monique from North Vancouver. A hot weekend was forecast, so shaded, relatively easy trails were essential for Sunday, June 7. No worries: Wells Gray Park has the answer to everything.
A black bear crossed the road in front of us near the Moul Falls trail-head, but that was not our destination. Kilometres later, the mosquitoes and a forested floor covering of flowering bunchberries were our welcoming committee as we started along the Helmcken Falls Rim Trail.
Murtle River rumbled unseen below us, but we saw it after 10 -15 minutes along the trail, possibly at its peak flow; it was our constant companion until we watched it drop out of sight over the falls about an hour of hiking later. The river was sometimes blue and peaceful, but had plenty of stretches of foaming white water.
Last year, Roland Neave, author of Exploring Wells Gray Park, had shown us the possible campsite of Lee, discoverer of Helmcken Falls, about half way along. “It’s worth the hike!” a couple of young Aussies assured us just past that site, now returning. When the noise increased, water leaping or dropping, and a second sign warned of unfenced dangerous drop-offs, we knew we had covered most of our four km hike in.
“I’d forgotten how close we are to the actual top of the falls on this side,” I said. We could see the enclosed viewpoint across the gaping canyon and knew what those people were seeing. However, one brilliant rainbow and its “shadow” were ours alone. Pure white water plummeted downwards out of sight into the carved out cave below. We crept along, hanging onto trees at the edge. The only way to see the foot of the falls is to lie down and inch carefully forwards and peer over the unprotected edge.
Through the branches and beyond the bright colours of the rainbow, we saw spray forming rivulets, like mini-waterfalls, which bounced down the cliff’s rocky face opposite us. From the safety of our lunch stop I studied the columns and layers of lava and the angular patterns they formed. Tumbling water and drumming vibrations provided mesmerizing music as we ate.
Before we started back, a young man, his camera on a tripod, used Monique’s camera to take our photo. Leaving right at noon, we walked through a short sunny section and realized how fortunate we were to be in the shade of towering trees throughout our return hike. When we saw pretty coral root blooming pink and white on its single stem beside the trail, we knew the car wasn’t far off.
But we were not done yet. Dawson Falls also has a less used, equally well-shaded trail and viewpoint. We ate the rest of our lunch looking at that wide curve of water sending spray high into the air, droplets sparkling in the early afternoon sunshine.
As we walked, we shared experiences of other hikes: Mary and Monique had recently been putting their boots to good use along the Dalmatian Coast in the countries of Montenegro and Croatia.
“But,” said Monique, “No hike ever matches the display of flowers we saw when we completed the seven-day hut-to-hut adventure here in Wells Gray Park [in 2009 with Tay Briggs as our glorious leader].”
How else could we wind up such a day except gathering for dinner with more of our companions from that incomparable event?
