Riding along the Elbow Falls Trail on horseback in Kananaskis Country, affectionately known as K-Country, offers sweeping vistas, boulder strewn creek crossings, aspen groves and a floral bounty through the warm seasons. An immersion into this sublime landscape after a weeks worth of urban living and stress, makes K-Country a blessing.
But, and there is always a but, especially on weekends, the trails are well occupied: from a family outing with strollers and picnic baskets attended with all the yelling and screaming and barking dogs to birders clad in dozens of zippered pockets, Tiley hats and binoculars drooping from the neck to the fitness crowd all spandexed up in neon athletic wear and bulging with muscles and water bottles.
The trails are multi-user and there was a time when I did training rides for endurance riding, attempting to ride without a lot of people on the trail–impossible if you’re working of course, weekends are usually the only time to do this. Parking the trailer at Station Flats, I’d tack up my mare, Sheba, to follow the Elbow Falls trail to the Powderface trail, linking to Prairie Creek and then return along Elbow Falls Trail. As an endurance rider, I pride myself in preparedness for human and horse. I rattled along with enough stuff to ensure a comfy night out in an epic snowstorm. This included a stethoscope, sponge, water treatment equipment, matches, flare, TP, lunch, horse cookies, electrolytes, plastic bag, jacket, halter and shank, hoof pick and Lordy knows what else I stuffed into my saddle bags. My little 13 3HH mare Sheba, an Arabian/Anglo-Arab never got the height or the nervy spooky attitude from that cross. A sweet, dainty and handy little lady got me from A to B without any fuss, although there seemed to be at time when spooking at white things on the trail, like a rock. Really? Or plastic bags hanging and/or flapping from barb wire fences along roadsides seemed to program 180s or 360s into her behavior.
Imagine a gorgeous summer day in K-Country: a cloudless heavens with those hard blue skies; a faint breeze shimmying the aspens, patches of summer flowers brightening the rich green meadows. And, it smells good. A perfect day to boot and scoot over 30 or so kilometers of well designed trails.
The Challenge
Riding from Station Flats to Powderface, I didn’t encounter another soul on the trail; walkers tend to do the short loops and cyclists have a few choices for longer distances. It’s a hilly, roller coastering stretch that goes in and out of a couple of coulees until the final meters drift along the paved road to the Powderface parking lot. It’s always full; people must arrive at dawn to secure any spot. This particular day, there were small groupings of people wandering on the trail. A bit past the trail head, on relatively flat ground and still a distance from the mountain, a cyclist was just starting to go through one of the cattle gates. This was serious cyclist, if the mountain bike, clothing, helmet and muscular body meant anything. He kindly held the gate open for me, which I then closed with his help. One of those gates in which closing a gate and holding a horse can cause exquisite moments of indecision. Trail courtesy means that you train your horse at home to lift the gate, pull it along and refasten it from horse back. It looks very cool and skillful. Unless the gate is six feet tall, weighs what it looks like and a struggle to drag the darn thing aside even on foot because it is not a real gate! Just barb wire strung between 8 foot poles and held up by tension. Help is good. He was shocked that I just didn’t ride off. But no: if someone opens a gate for you, you close it. Trail courtesy 101. One final look at me and a pleasant “see you”, and off he rode. Hard. What, I thought….see you???? No, no, no, no NO! Not only can I keep up, I can beat you with your fancy-schmancy bike. All in a mental dialogue, of course.
Ok, Sheba, horse vs bicycle – the glove is dropped!?? I know this trail. I know where we can go fast and give me a break, I’m on a horse: the horse conquered the world for mankind, not the bicycle. And, thinking about local terrain, I can beat a cyclist on horseback, going up Powederface. How many times have I jogged past cyclists pushing their bikes up the mountain, looking enviously at my very cool mare and I?
Climbing aboard, I trotted and cantered after the disappearing wheel of the cyclist or for the Western crowd, jogged and loped off, planning my strategy to–well not flip a bird, but to also say, “see ya” as I gracefully lope past, giving a queenly wave from my Ay-rab horse.
Round One
While the rules of the race hadn’t been discussed with Sheba, first across any finish line wins, right? And, if it’s really just wanting to get in front, well, there are ways and means that a horse really does have the upper hoof.
This was MY territory and I knew these trails.
Needless to say, the cyclist peddled hard. I stayed a good 20 meters behind at an easy pace until we hit the open meadow just before the serious elevation starts. The first hill, he did good. But, I now had my furry four by four engaged and kept the same pace as on the flats. I very quickly trotted by. Since this was pretty much at the beginning of my event, a “see ya” was inappropriate and I needed to look intent but conservatively eager. Helmet on lockdown, slight lean forward, heels down.
That was easy!
Feeling pretty cocky on my amazing mare and making mental raspberries to all those who don’t appreciate the physicality of a horse as I powered up the trail, climbing higher and higher up the mountain to the amazing vista that Powderface offers and seeing a blaze of mountain forgetmenots rivaling the blue of the sky. At the top, I always give my horse a breather, get off and check that the pulse is going down, let her have a chew and nibble on the grasses and take a short break. Naturally, the trail is relentless down on the other side of the mountain and the geology has springs, washouts and other interesting features that are not found on the “going up” side. Mounted again, I carefully trotted down, zigging and zagging with the trail to a point where I knew it would be boggy and then simply cut across the meadow a hundred meters or so to the Powderface road and about couple hundred meters to where the trail links up to the road. This was a day to enjoy and take my time walking along the road until the turn off to the Prairie Creek link.
Is it a bird, a plane?
Glancing back at Powderface, I saw a flash of colour between the trees, descending the trail. Descending? it was the express elevator down the CN tower! What the?…..And almost in front of our collective noses, THAT cyclist burst out of the trees seemingly teleporting from top to bottom in a matter of seconds. Then riding off in a dust cloud on the road in the same direction the Sheebs and I were going. Had I been on Secretariat, at a flat out gallop, I would not have caught him.
I was shocked and awed. Regrouping, mentally and physically.
Ok, there is NO WAY that he could continue at that speed on Prairie Creek. I know that trail; I know that there are lots of different ground conditions and elevation changes that my Sheba can handle well at a decent clip.
Round Two
Allowed the Sheebs a quick slurp at Prairie Creek turnoff and thinking, thinking….And off we went ! A bit of speed on this section, so good ground for shod feet, no tricky turns, no sudden elevation changes.
Right on !
Success, because a few minutes later, there he was, off his bike, having a break. Sitting to the side of the trail and eating a sandwich. I blew by. This time he looked at me. I am hardly invisible on a horse and make a bit of noise. But, there seemed to be a wakeup call his eyes. Maybe the unspoken challenge was making itself heard. Or maybe I was reading too much into a quick glance.
That said, Prairie Creek became a leapfrog of team Monika and Sheba verses the unknown cyclist, passing each other where the passing was good for the horse or the cyclist. Needless to say, this is a technical trail. It follows a mountain stream that flows between rocky faces with good clambers up and down. This area also concentrates hikers on the narrow trails, so people, dogs, kids and other cyclists have to be thought about, in front and in the rear view mirror and on the sides.
There is a spot towards the end of the Prairie Creek where the occasional cyclist just seems to give up and abandons their bike on the trail and lies down in exhaustion.
That this is also a very scenic spot doubles the desire to stop here. That this beautiful spot is also the size of an extra large beach blanket means that space is at a premium. One hiker and cyclist with the bike tucked in is fine to ride around. Two hikers, a dog and cyclist and there can be carnage on the trail. With a few people, it does look like a seal pack eyeing a great white when a horse comes over and around the bend. Seriously, I am not going to ride over a bike, but I am also not going to dismount and drag the bike off somewhere. Fortunately, these unmounted humans tend to quickly recall that they have abandoned their stuff on the trail, and quickly tuck the bits and pieces into the shrubbery and pop back to their piece of prime real estate to relax and watch the parade go by.
Where did he go?
With all the wiggling and jiggling of attachments to my person and saddle, I had an equipment malfunction…..a water bottle fell off, requiring me to dismount and hunt for it. That took a few minutes backtracking. It seems that the order of go on this trail was Powderface to Prairie Creek, not PC to PF. And on a narrow trail, having a wall people coming at you, well, finding that water bottle had to be really important.
Yes, it was.
Final lap
Remounting and going with the flow was now a very steady, very slow walk. I totally lost sight of the cyclist and realized that I lost the race. It wasn’t a formal loss, no crossing a finish line, no ribbons or speeches by the winner. No thanking the organizer (ok, thank you God, for this magnificent land) or sponsors (thanks Monika!). And it certainly pointed out a few truths about strengths and weaknesses: up hills, rocking it; hills down, not so much unless I ask for speed, or get off and run down. Flats a coin toss. Ok, let’s do it over 160 km and see weighed down horse competing against pedal power.
Fortunately, the point of the training ride was just that. Training–my Sheebs did what I asked of her and she definitely passed my horse health check with a fit to continue.
The final kilometer or so of the trail notches up the technical aspects of the trail, ending in a downward approach to the creek.
There he was, derailer deep in the creek, cleaning up man and bike. I rode in and parallel parked my horse, knee deep, and let the creek wash off a bit of the mud on her legs and cool her off. Horse vs bicycle – to finish is to win; yea!
Then he looked at us, followed by:
I didn’t realize a horse could go that fast !?
To which I replied, I didn’t think a human could !
I am sure the cyclist went the 50 meters to the parking lot at Powderface and loaded up his car, where on the other hand, would need to go another 10 or so kilometers back to my trailer at Station Flats, and with a lot of horse left over.
See ya!