Sweltering 34 C sun baked heat exacerbated by stiflingly hazy smoke-filled mountain air with only occasional breezes and certain shady areas to offer any minutiae of relief.
Nearly 14 kilometres on a trail from the Mt. Shark parking lot near Canmore that leads into Banff's backcountry lies a rustic shelter nestled near Bryant Creek awaiting those willing to endure the journey.
Roughly 45 pounds of gear including food, compact cooking element, sleeping bag and ultra-light collapsible chair for comfort — the extra couple of pounds is worth the additional burden -- in a Deuter hiking backpack.
Quite a few litres of water, much of it drawn fresh from freely flowing, pristinely crystal clear creek water, the likes of which many people around the world will sadly unlikely ever lay eyes upon, let alone actually get to enjoy.
And about three and a half hours, give or take.
These are apparently roughly my limits for venturing out to explore our mind-boggling massive Rocky Mountains.
For although the initial hike in left me nearly completely drained but in an accomplished and satisfying frame of mind — especially following a brief and exhilarating dip to cool off in the frigidly refreshing water — the return trip back out pushed me about as far as I could have physically made it.
The final two most sun-exposed kilometres seemed to stretch endlessly on, pack getting heavier every moment, feet feeling less certain per step, lungs longing for fresh air untainted by an obtrusive and relentless smoky haze, and unable to think about anything but — and motivated only by — the promised impending sight of the parking lot.
Shedding my pack upon reaching the vehicles offered monumental relief, but I was yet far from fully recovering any sense or form of composure — my focus was largely on catching my breath. At first lying back on a large, surprisingly comfortable rock nearby, and shortly afterwards in the slight hint of shade offered in our SUV.
After drinking the last of the water with some electrolyte tablets, my other half and I — who, hiking out with a swollen ankle following an unknown suspected bug sting or bite the day prior, was also enduring her own tribulation — offered some fellow hikers a ride to a nearby helipad where their vehicles were parked.
But barely a couple more kilometres down the road, anticipating what was coming, I slowly came to a stop in a viewpoint pullout for people seeking to snap some shots of the spectacular scenery.
Thankfully, no one else was there at the time as I as calmly as possible walked around to the edge of the road and purged essentially all the fluid in my stomach. That was about when I figured I was reasonably suffering from a mild heatstroke.
Yet despite it all, no regrets — such an exhausting adventure can nevertheless yield a surprisingly satisfying sense of accomplishment.
And now, being more familiar with my limits, continuing to explore the Rockies — and eventually elsewhere as well when possible — within those boundaries is the goal.
Perhaps as additional notches get etched into the proverbial belt, improved conditioning might even let me try to set new ones.
