We were feeling just a tad exhausted after successfully reaching the summits of Siffleur Mountain and Mount Loudon on the first two days of our trip up the Siffleur River and slept pretty darn good during our second night in the bivy bags. I didn't bother setting an alarm after stumbling into our camp in Loudon's southern hanging valley in the dark the previous evening and was more than happy to let the sun naturally wake us up around 08:00.

Half an hour later, we were packed up and exiting the valley through the big boulder field, enjoying our third straight gorgeous summer morning in this remote corner of the Rockies.

For some silly reason, as we started our descent back down to Porcupine Creek, we once again chose to make a highline traverse of the steep, hard-packed, cheese-grater slope (that we were "forced" to cross during our ascent the previous afternoon), rather than first descending in the burn and crossing the drainage when it eventually narrowed. I guess our logic was that we knew for certain that this route "worked" while the alternative was a complete unknown, but I was soon questioning this logic...

I don't know if we somehow ended up on a steeper line, or if it just felt sketchier facing downhill instead of uphill, but we eventually reached a point where we simply couldn't commit to traversing the terrain that lay before us and were forced to bail down a lightly vegetated rib, hoping that we'd find an easier crossing below.

Lucky for us, we did in the form of a goat "trail", its small hoof prints hammered into the slope, providing us with footholds to balance the edges of our boots on and an escape to Loudon's southern burnt slopes. The remainder of our angling descent in the burn went without difficulties and it wasn't until we neared Porcupine Creek that we consciously strayed from our ascent line, staying high on a raised bench, to skier's left, to hopefully avoid some of the gnarly travel conditions along the creek that we encountered the previous day.

This worked surprisingly well (you'll definitely want to follow our descent track on this one!), and we were soon crossing to the east side of the Siffleur River Trail (cutline), following Porcupine Creek downstream until we arrived at the edge of the Siffleur River.

We took the added flow from Porcupine Creek out of the equation by first crossing to its south side on a couple of fallen trees, before tackling the Siffleur where it widened upstream. Setting an "L" shaped trajectory to make use of as much "raised ground" beneath the water as possible, we had absolutely no trouble wading across the river's at most knee-deep waters, and were soon starting our ascent up burnt, forested slopes to Fuhrer's upper hanging valley (aka "Chortling Marmots Creek" Valley).

After steeply gaining about 350 m in the open burn, the slope eased off as we entered the hanging valley, alongside Chortling Marmots Creek. We were relieved to find water flowing in this minor drainage (a luxury we didn't have the previous day!), and were soon topping up our bottles and dropping our camp supplies at the last "grassy patch", before continuing up the long rubble valley to a distant col between Fuhrer and an impressive, but unnamed, outlier to the SW.

The actual ascent of Furher is no more than class 2 from a technical standpoint and we easily plodded up scree slopes, angling left as we neared the col to gain Fuhrer's south ridge. It was on this slope that my dad had the most random boost of energy and practically started running up the mountain! After painfully watching him grunt through knee pain the last two days, this was so far out of left field that I couldn't help but laugh. Some things just can't be explained in the mountains I guess! 😂

Hoping to get a view of all four Fuhrer Lakes - quietly tucked away in the remote valley below Fuhrer's incredible east face - we angled to climber's right (yes, away from the summit) as we approached the ridge. This took us to a small, rocky outcrop near the low col between Furher and Abstruse, and let me tell you, the scene that awaited us upon topping out at this viewpoint was absolutely jaw-dropping!

Abstruse Peak's near 11,000 ft form towered above, with an incredible waterfall coming off its NE glacier and plunging hundreds of meters down the vertical face to feed the deep turquoise waters of all four Fuhrer Lakes. I wonder how many people have experienced this view! Probably not very many!

After spending way too much time "oohing" and "ahhing" over the stupendous scene that lay before us, I reluctantly pried myself away and started the final ridgewalk towards Fuhrer's apex, still about a 1.5 km away.

A thick layer of cloud rolled in as we climbed these final 100 vertical meters, but views were still incredible as we traversed directly above Fuhrer's sheer east face. A few minor ups and downs later, we found ourselves at the small summit cairn built by Vern and Wietse just one month prior, accompanied by yet another magnificent summit panorama to reward us for our efforts. The lower two Fuhrer Lakes were blocked out from this angle, but the views we gained off Fuhrer's NE face easily made up for it, with a small hidden glacier feeding a couple more colourful tarns, 500 meters directly below us!

Having traversed the summit ridge at a very leisurely pace (the views were just a little bit distracting...), and with dark t-storms brewing ominously to the east, we didn't have much time to waste. After leaving a small film canister summit register (I meant to add in Rick Collier's 2000 ascent and Vern and Wietse's July 29, 2023 ascent, but it totally slipped my mind in the moment!), and snapping a few more pictures, we continued to follow in Vern and Wietse's footsteps - taking a more direct line back to camp by continuing down the ridge to the NW before angling down steep, western rubble slopes back to Chortling Marmots Creek.

We noticed some pretty major cliffs lining the southern half of these slopes while hiking below them a few hours earlier, and made sure to angle quite significantly to skier's right so we didn't risk ending up in a sticky ("cliffy") situation. 😉 The solid nature of the rubble made for a somewhat slow descent, but our chosen line went without difficulties, and we arrived back at our stashed camp supplies and small grassy "bivy patch" just as darkness fell.

Thanks to some sporadic rain showers throughout the night, our final sleep in the backcountry was definitely more restless than the first two had been. When the sun finally rose around 07:00, I was more than a little bit eager to say goodbye to the claustrophobic confines of my bivy bag, and quickly packed up for a long exit back to the Siffleur Falls Staging Area.

As we left the hanging valley and started back down the burn towards the Siffleur River, we quickly realized that the steep, grassy slopes would demand a little bit of respect this time around (rain + grass = SLIP CITY!), but even so, this would still be one of the easier parts of our day!

Wading across the Siffleur River felt significantly colder on this cool, dreary morning, but I didn't mind. After three long days of tough wilderness travel my feet could honestly use the numbing! 😂 Since our feet were already cold and wet after crossing back to the west side of the Siffleur, we didn't bother wasting time and energy by balancing across Porcupine Creek's log "bridges" and simply continued trudging straight through its short, but powerful, outlet rapids.

With all the aquatic extracurriculars now behind us, all that was left was a lengthy "trail-shwack" (a term I've come up with to describe a trail, so overgrown that it's practically become full-on bushwhacking), that I can't say either of us were particularly looking forward to...

As the kilometers dragged on, our feet and shoulders became more and more achy (the cold water treatment wore off pretty fast), and we hiked in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. It took every ounce of energy we had left in the tank to drag our tired bodies through the maze of deadfall, but we knew there was no avoiding it, so we accepted the task at hand and did our best to settle in to a rhythm, marching slowly, steadily onwards.

I guess we became a little bit too lost in our thoughts, because neither of us noticed when our cutline changed trajectory from NE to due N, and ended up hiking a few hundred meters in the wrong direction before realizing something was off. Dang it!

Eventually, after hours of tiresome "trail-shwacking", the travel conditions finally started to improve, and with them so did our moods. As the sun came out and we enjoyed these final few kilometers of open cutline to the wilderness boundary, I even found myself already dreaming up a return trip to this wild place. Funny how quickly the mind can forget all the suffering. 😂

When we arrived back to our stashed bikes at the wilderness boundary, we opened up the recently installed log book to find one entry since Vern and Wietse's trip. It was some snarky comment about there being too many restrictions on the Siffleur Wilderness Area, and while we originally had no intention of writing anything in the log book, we simply couldn't resist adding a counter comment applauding Alberta Parks for how wild and beautiful the area has been kept and asking that it remains that way.

We were beyond grateful to have our bikes for the final 8 km peddle through the Kootenay Plains Ecological Reserve, and rolled up to the parking lot with a handful of families out enjoying the Siffleur Falls Trails on what had turned out to be a beautiful, albeit smokey afternoon.

Easily taking the top spot as my highlight of the summer, our four day trip up the Siffleur River is not one that I'll soon forget. Venturing into the heart of the Siffleur Wilderness wasn't easy, that's for sure, but I don't think I want it to be. I'm sure there are plenty of people out there (like the dude in the log book...) that feel like there are too many restrictions on the Siffleur Wilderness, but I am definitely not one of them! I've never explored a part of the Rockies that felt as wild and remote, and there's something undeniably special about the feeling of being truly "out there", exploring a place where only a handful of other humans have set foot throughout history. It's places like this that draw me in and spark my curiosity in a way that popular, well-traveled routes never will, and I can't wait to come back and explore more of the wonders that the Siffleur Wilderness has to offer.

Photo Gallery