Four Lakes Trail, 18 Nov 2023

Opinion:

Maybe I’m getting old, but I’ve come to really value the simpler hikes where I don’t have to work too hard, especially this circuit that takes in four small lakes. They’re not particularly exciting bodies of water – being surrounded by trees – but the trail that links them is enjoyable and passes through some nice forest. If you just need to stretch your legs for 2-3 hours, it’s ideal.

Fact

November is a quiet time to visit Alice Lake Provincial Park. The parking lot was mostly empty so there was no problem finding a place, and the campground was closed. The only washrooms open were the outhouses but they had sanitizer.

The trail was in great condition with almost no mud. We followed a counter-clockwise loop, starting on the south side of Alice Lake, then around the east side of Edith Lake, calling in at Fawn Lake, and finishing off on the east side of Stump Lake. Signposts were present to keep hikers on track though I dispute some of their distances.

No flowers to speak of but an abundance of fungi – none of which I can identify. Except maybe the sulphur tufts and coral fungi. Wildlife was limited to a few bird species – including some unidentified ducks on Fawn Lake, what may have been common mergansers on Alice Lake (not sure – too far away), plus chickadees, nuthatches, and kinglets in the forest. We encountered a lone and unusually quiet Steller’s jay at Fawn Lake. A few noisy squirrels also made their presence known.

Distance: 7.5 km
Elevation gain: 160 m
Time: 2 h 35 m

Key moments

• 😀 The stillness of the lakes and in the forest was all-encompassing
• 😀 Taking a moment to admire the plentiful mushrooms
• 😀 Watching a Steller’s jay fluff up its feathers
• 😀 Standing next to the rushing Cheekye River among red lava boulders

• 🙁 Should I bother complaining about the mountain bikers who pass too close?

This trail lies on the traditional, ancestral, and unceded territories of the Squamish and Lil’wat people.

Story

Sometimes you just need to be outside in the fresh air. We headed for Alice Lake for an easy wander around the lakes, not yet keen on tackling the variable snow conditions just showing up on the North Shore mountains. The day was quiet and we took a relaxed drive up the ever-beautiful Sea to Sky highway to Squamish and beyond, pulling in at the near empty parking lot by Alice Lake. As we set off on the trail, the first thing we noticed was the mirror-like lake before us and we stopped to admire the reflection of the snow-dusted peaks of Mount Garibaldi. The mountain barely peeks above the trees, unlike the grand view from the highway as you drive past the Stawamus Chief on the way into Squamish, but it still looks imposing, even if its grandeur doesn’t translate in a photograph. Today, the mountain had a wonderful sleek flag cloud hiding the summit and extending east over the hidden glaciers.

With no grand vistas to exalt over, today was to be about noticing small details, like the rows of holes drilled into a red cedar by a sapsucker, or the way the glowing leaves of a huckleberry bush stood out like a flame against a dark forested background. It was also a day to absorb the stillness of the water, of the air, of the forest, the quiet wrapping us in a comforting blanket as we walked. Even the little creek that pours into Alice Lake was subdued and trickled its way down through the forest as we climbed the switchbacking trail towards Edith Lake.

The first view of Edith Lake is underwhelming, mostly because it’s hard to get down to the lake shore. We followed a trail around the south end of the lake, past an old “Private” sign nailed high in a tree, and through salal and salmonberry to a clearing by the lake near where an old homestead or cabin must have existed at one time, based on the cultivated flowers we’d seen here on our last visit. Today we had this spot to ourselves and, like Alice Lake, Edith Lake was a perfect mirror, reflecting the clouds and blue sky, the trees and autumnal shrubs.

I set myself the task of creating a “portrait” of each lake on our circuit, a photo or two that I felt would capture its personality in some way. Thankfully, the reflections were making it easy and I found a couple of angles on Edith Lake that I think created a couple of nice photos. Now, could I repeat that for the other lakes?

Before we even completed our circumnavigation of Edith Lake, we came to a wonderful collection of gregarious fungi that I simply had to stop and admire. So many fine classic fairytale mushrooms were pushing up through the emerald moss, some in full parasol mode, others barely clear of the soil. I’m not normally drawn to fungi photography as they’re not usually as photogenic as flowers but that’s not to say I don’t appreciate them and it was enjoyable to take the time and create some images. I’m pleasantly surprised at how well they turned out.

We rejoined the trail and continued on under an avenue of tall second-growth trees, the old logging road pleasantly soft underfoot, noting a few spots where we’d seen flowers growing on previous visits. A few mountain bikers passed by, some greeting us, others considering themselves too cool to acknowledge non-wheeled trail users.

Fawn Lake was our next stop where a light mist drifted over the water – definitely a portrait scene to capture. A few ducks floated on the surface of the lake, too distant to identify, even with the camera. We sat on a rock to soak up the warmth of the sun, and I noticed how I was having to shield my eyes from the sun’s reflection as I was sizing up photos. Which immediately gave me an idea: rather than repeating my trees-reflected-in-the-water photo of Edith Lake, I thought of capturing the sun in the lake and darkening the image so that the trees were just silhouettes. To my surprise, it worked really well, even showing some iridescence on the clouds closest to the sun. I liked it so much I decided to flip the image to make it look like the moon’s reflection, with a few stars (aka sunlit bubbles) in the sky. I posted the pair on Instagram and managed to convince a few viewers it was indeed the moon!

Turning my attention away from the lake, I noticed a lone Steller’s jay perched among the branches of a nearby cedar. Though clearly on the lookout for treats it seemed content to sit in the tree which was great as it gave me time to get the camera to focus on it, just as it fluffed up its feathers. They’re such handsome birds and I’ve wondered what name they might receive when the American Ornithological Society turns its attention to them. I liked cobalt jay, or screech jay, while a friend suggested crested jay, which also works.

We left the sunshine behind and re-entered the forest. I was about to write that this section is my favourite but, to be honest, I like many parts of this trail, so it’s hard to call it such. However, I do really enjoy this section, even though it was significantly colder and danker than anywhere we’d walked until now. We wandered among the cedars and Douglas firs, past a skunk-cabbage-filled hollow that spilled cold air onto the trail, before nearing the Cheekye River that flows off the western flanks of Mount Garibaldi.

As we neared the river, another patch of fungi caught our attention, a beautiful gathering of sulphur tufts emanating from a fallen log. I was really getting into this fungi photography! Sure, they’re not prize-winners but I feel like they’re some of the best mushroom images I’ve made.

One feature of the forest near the river is the copious quantities of moss and lichen on the trees, mostly witches hair (I think) that caught what little sunlight found its way through the trees, causing it to glow a luminous green. We picked our way down to the riverside to absorb some of the sound of the river and to admire the view of a snowy Alpha Mountain.

Looking upstream, I was immediately struck by the abundance of red boulders, undoubtedly remnants of old lava flows from Mount Garibaldi. The contrast between them and the turquoise-tinted river really caught my eye, as if for the first time. Surely not, but to be honest I can’t remember noticing before. For a few moments, I was totally captivated by it and just stood to admire the scene. I tore myself away and we re-joined the trail in the dim forest. Within a couple of minutes, we came to another junction near our fourth and final lake: Stump Lake. We opted for the direct route back to the car along the eastern shore, which had the advantage of being lit by the late afternoon sun that had made an appearance.

As with the previous three lakes, I stopped to try and find a portrait of the lake, settling for a nice reflection of a small island framed by autumnal shrubs by the shore. A fallen tree that led into the water tempted me out a few steps where I found some lovely alder leaves held by the surface tension in the lake, the dark water contrasting against the sunlit leaves. I’m not sure that photo really worked but I’ve included it anyway.

With that, it was time to complete the circuit back to the car. We weren’t quite done with the fungi as we found a perfect little parasol sat between two trees, and saw many more sulphur tufts (or similar), including one very large patch next to a tree stump. It wasn’t long before we crossed the road into the empty campground which was an unusual sight, soon meeting up with the path around Alice Lake again, which had one last surprise for us: a view of the Sky Pilot group of peaks reflected in the still water.

A few more steps and we were back at the car, feeling relaxed and contented with our peaceful wanderings of the past couple of hours. It was just what we needed.