Frank’s notes from last summer’s trip to the Alberta, Canada area may inspire travel planning – and now is the time to make reservations at popular summer destinations.

I decided to make the entire 30-mile drive to Maligne (pronounced mah-LEEN) Lake from the town of Jasper because I wanted to see the canyon, which was just a few minutes away from my hotel near the beginning of the route, and I thought, “Why not go all the way to the end?”

Not much of a reason, I’ll admit, but I’m glad I did it. The mountain scenery along the way is amazing, and the namesake lake at the end figures prominently on postcards sold at gift shops throughout Alberta, and for good reason. But I’ll get to that.
First I stopped at Maligne Canyon, and since I’d been cooped up in a plane and rental car the previous day, I decided to get some much-needed exercise and hike up to the canyon from the suspension bridge known blandly as Fifth Bridge (as you can guess, there are four more bridges upriver), which meant an elevation gain of 330 feet over a distance of about a mile and a half. 

The trail follows the riverbank and at first is just a few feet above the swiftly flowing Maligne River, but within several yards the trail climbs leaving a steep drop of 30 or 40 feet between you and the churning water. Lodgepole pines crowd up to the very edge with some having toppled in. Although it was the middle of summer, the late-morning air was fresh and cool, and I had the trail pretty much to myself, which was a little disconcerting at first. I was thinking of bears.

I quickly forgot my little phobia and began savoring the peace and solitude, which I figured would end soon enough as I got closer to the canyon (I was right). Looking downriver back the way I had come, I noticed an unusual mountain looming over the landscape. I say unusual because it was so colorful—streaked with greens, browns, oranges and a few veins of snowy white near the top. I found out later that this major landmark is visible from downtown Jasper and is called Pyramid Mountain, which makes sense because it is roughly pyramid shaped.

The opposite bank rose above the one I was hiking along, and I paused often to study the bluff that faced me. I was fascinated by the sight of trees clinging precariously to vertical rock walls; springs dribbling water in broad sheets, nurturing lush ferns and mosses; and underground streams pouring out of caves to join the white-capped torrent below. The sound of rushing water was everywhere.

Eventually I reached the Fourth Bridge, which, if I had to choose among the five, would be my favorite. It’s perfectly positioned above a narrow slot canyon through which the river is funneled as it plummets several yards in a raging waterfall. The other bridges and viewpoints look down similar chasms, the deepest being 167 feet.

After taking several dozen pictures from the abundant railed overlooks, I bought some water at the restaurant/gift shop near the canyon’s main parking lot, and made the easy downhill trek back to the Fifth Bridge. Satisfied with my day’s journey so far, I returned to Maligne Lake Road and after 10 miles arrived at Medicine Lake.

The lake is noteworthy not only because it’s picturesque, reflecting as it does the surrounding sawtooth peaks, it’s unusual because for months at a time in fall and winter, the lake, which has no visible outlet, disappears. Signs on the shore explain how this once mysterious vanishing act is performed: In spring and summer an underground river beneath the lakebed backs up as melting glaciers nearby overwhelm its ability to drain the water off.

Between Medicine and Maligne lakes, the boulder-strewn Maligne River appears and disappears among the trees and at times runs right alongside the roadway. An unknown French explorer, who apparently had a bad time crossing the river, is credited with giving it the name Maligne, meaning wicked or evil.

I arrived at Maligne Lake around lunchtime with a big appetite, and fortunately there’s a cafeteria with indoor seating as well as a spacious deck from which you can take in the beautiful surroundings. The lake is the biggest in Jasper National Park and one of the largest glacier-fed lakes in the world.

It’s narrow: 14 miles long but at its broadest point only a mile wide. Near the boat docks and restaurant concession the lake is bordered by gentle, forested slopes, but in the distance you can see towering snow-capped peaks. A boat house rents canoes and kayaks, but the most popular way to see the lake is by 90-minute motorboat tour.

Not having set aside time in my itinerary for a scenic cruise and with an hour wait until the next available departure, I asked myself if I really should do it. Again the answer came to me: “Why not?” (There were a few good reasons why not considering I had other attractions I wanted to visit that day, but looking out over this beauty spot and wanting to see more, I was immune to sensible thinking.)

The tour boats hold about 35-40 passengers with one crew member steering and the other providing narration. The cabin is enclosed, but the large windows let you enjoy the incredible views, and passengers are invited to stand on the open rear deck as long as it doesn’t get too crowded. It was tiny, so we had to take turns. As we approached the far shore we could see glaciers sparkling in the sunlight.

The highlight of the trip is Spirit Island, about two-thirds of the way to the far end. The boat docked here to let us off to take pictures, which every last one of us did enthusiastically. This is the postcard view you see so frequently in gift shops and on photo websites: tiny forested islands in the foreground and the mirrored surface of the lake reflecting the glacier-topped peaks in the distance. Wow!

So, if you find yourself in Jasper National Park wondering whether to drive the 30 miles to Maligne Lake, my advice is no longer “Why not?” it’s “Just do it!”   

All photos by Frank Swanson