Wildhorse Ridge

My route on CalTopo: https://caltopo.com/m/K5J8/K5A2105TG1STJDC8

YouTube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGSfTdSJPiY

This hike was completed on May 2, 2020.

Approach to Wildhorse Ridge, seen from the east

As a kid, I always had a strange sense of foreboding as we drove past this first mountain and into the west country. The familiar and comforting spruces disappeared and were replaced by a wide-open scene of devastation. A forest fire had destroyed the trees in the valley and travelled up the southern slope, leaving charred, black lances stabbing the sky.

The southeastern spur is likely the longest way up. Might be a fun one for next time.

Some furry friends at the base solve the mystery of the mountain’s name

As you are driving, keep a lookout for dirt roads on the right hand side. There are two turnouts for Wildhorse Ridge, which both lead you up to two different creek ravines. The first turnout is soon after you drive past the southeastern spur. You can hike from here, but it will take longer to get to the top. Keep driving further, then take the second turnout (pictured below) and drive up the hill to park beside the ravine.

Here, you can see a tent at the parking area.

There are two ways to summit from the trailhead. If you go right, you will eventually get to the ridge at the top right of the photo.

This part of Wildhorse Ridge is shaped like a horseshoe; you can go on either side of the creek canyon and still get to the top. The left is the most direct way, but I went up on the right hand side.

Because of the dearth of trees, the bowl opens up and the summit becomes visible quite quickly. The summit is not the obvious peak in the middle; it is the one slightly to the right.

To get to the summit (at left), I first had to climb to the top of this steep, craggy spur. I elected to climb up the front of it on the left side.

The first part of the climb was not too difficult, with multiple terraces of large boulders. However, the hardest part of the ascent was directly after, which required climbing steep, loose shale, then briefly climbing a steep slab Spider-Man style to get to the top of the spur.

To get past this outcropping and on top of the ridge, I chose to go around it on the right side for a while before climbing it.

The top portion of the spur still had deep snow, but it was no problem thanks to the path made by my friend, who I happened to run into at this point during her descent

After climbing the outcropping, I was met with some deep snow, which was fairly easy to navigate. Shortly after, I stopped at the viewpoint at the top of the spur and had lunch beside the cairn. I got cell service at this point from here to the summit (which might or might not be the same for you).

Cairn atop the southwestern spur

The next section was a small saddle between the southwestern spur and mountain ridge. I was advised by my friend to forego climbing the front of the ridge by traversing around it on the left side.

My path, roughly traced around the bottom of the ridge, then gradually to up the scree to the top, and then left towards the summit. It was at this point that CalTopo mysteriously stopped recording my track.

I crossed the saddle and, whereas my friend and her party were fortunate to walk on the relatively hard packed snow below the ridge, the sun had made it quite soft by the time I arrived at their snow crossing. I sunk in to my hips and had some difficulty getting through. After that, I meandered up the slippery scree to the ridge crest. It was easy going from there to the summit.

The crusty surface of the snow cut my knee and scraped my legs until they were red. Lesson learned: wear long pants during shoulder seasons (and try to cross snow fields in the morning).

Looking down from the ridge and into the bowl, with a view of Mount Minos across the Red Deer River. The parking lot is hidden at the bottom of the ravine.

It took me about 4 hours to summit, although I spent about an hour experimenting with my camera and eating lunch. The summit provided two interesting perspectives: snow-capped mountains to the west, and gently rolling foothills to the east.

Summit cairn, with Maze Peak centred in the distance and Eagle Mountain further on and to the right.

Views of Labyrinth Mountain in the foreground and Ya Ha Tinda. A pink ammo can holds the register at the cairn.

Although I didn’t open the register this time (thanks COVID-19), I have heard that some call this mountain Kimchi Peak. As a kid, we never learned the names of most of the mountains in the area. I think Wildhorse Ridge makes more sense given the nearby Wild Horse Provincial Recreation Area (not to mention the horses frolicking about).

At the summit, with Minos and Banff National Park beyond, guarded by Dormer Mountain (the prominent peak in the background).

View of the foothills to the east

Pano atop the summit

I decided to make a loop and follow the more northerly side of the bowl down. I quickly encountered more snow and went on the left side of an outcropping. However, this time I judged traversing the deep snow to be unsafe. I backtracked and went around the other side, which required a bit of scrambling. During the spring shoulder season, avalanches and sinking through deep snow are a concern because of the large temperature differences created during spring melt.

Deep, soft snow in this terrain trap made me think twice about traversing around this side of the outcropping

There was some more snow to be crossed, so this time I used my sweater as makeshift pants to protect my legs from snow abrasion.

My latest iteration of hiking fashion: a wool shirt pulled over my shorts and affixed to my pack with a carabiner to prevent the shirt from falling down

Halfway down, my phone died just as I was viewing my CalTopo map to determine my route through the trees. I realized I had forgotten my battery bank and paper map in the car. This was a costly mistake, as I followed the wrong drainage downhill, which probably added an extra hour onto my descent. I ended up running out of water, but thankfully I refilled my bottle at a creek with my water filter. To avoid situations like this, it is always best to carry a physical map and compass, as well as a separate GPS device like a Garmin inReach or SPOT. My total trip time ended up being about 7 hours.

On the drive home, a chill went down my spine as I saw the unmistakable, hideous shape of a tick on my shorts. I quickly pulled over and bagged my mortal enemy. Ticks and I have a long history. I first became acquainted with them when one burrowed into my skull during a trip to Ontario when I was a preschooler. Since then, I have waged continuous war on Terry the Terrible Tick and his kin.

During the rest of the drive, I had more lovely company, as two more ticks crawled up my neck and nearly made me drive off the road. When I got home, a tick check was in order, and I found two more on my back (one of which had already latched onto me). A quick removal with tweezers, an application of soapy water, a dash of rubbing alcohol, and a shower finished off a fun and eventful day.

I picked up five little wood tick friends. Female wood ticks have a light colour just on the upper part of their backs (the tick furthest right), whereas males have an interesting spotted pattern all over their backs (the tick beside the female tick). Ticks can normally be taken to the hospital or doctor via the Alberta Submit a Tick program for Lyme Disease identification, but this program appears to be suspended during COVID-19. The good thing is that you can still book a doctor’s appointment if you are worried about getting Lyme Disease.