Vivien Lougheed could have called her latest book One Trail, Two Journeys. She might have named it How Two Worlds Collided By Missing Each Other. Instead she charitably called it Kluane Saga: A Ten Day Adventure.
In fairness, it wasn't her book alone. The veteran travel and historical writer - known internationally as Camel Granny for the perpetual backpack on her back as she travels the world's various landscapes despite her senior citizen status - had help on this one. It was co-written by Kelley Faubion, a far less seasoned traveller but someone who shared Lougheed's passion for fascinating hikes no matter where they might be.
They met on some moderate hikes in South America, and Lougheed convinced Faubion to bring her boyfriend Hashila Goonetilleke on an even more demanding but breathtaking excursion into Lougheed's best-loved locale. She has written multiple books on Kluane National Park tucked in the corner of the Yukon where the B.C. and Alaska borders join up. It is home to Canada's tallest peak, Mount Logan, several massive glaciers, and some of the most beautifully mountainous country on the planet. Lougheed was putting a hiking party together for a loop past the Donjek Glacier. Would Faubion and Goonetilleke like to come along?
Yes. They readily agreed, as did a Belgian named Benny Degembre, Prince George hiking enthusiasts Linda Thompson and Deb Hazell, plus Yukoners Travis Bernard and Allie Martin.
There was one difference the new couple wanted to add. They wished to hike in together over four days instead of flying with the others to a dropoff point where the adventure would begin for the larger group. Reluctantly, Lougheed agreed to meet up with the pair at Bighorn Lake, near the toe of the Donjek Glacier, and gave them explicit instructions as to how to find the precise location.
The way the couple wished to use was a known route, but it was not a hike by common definitions. It was a hefty journey and it was one-way. The terrain disallowed even experienced backcountry travellers to turn around once they were en route.
The couple got away later than they planned, did not follow the instructions exactly, and missed the rendezvous.
From that point on, the Lougheed party of six travelling the route worried about their missing companions but confidently set to face the grueling days ahead. Meanwhile Faubion and Goonetilleke were on the same trail but unsure of themselves, scared, and lacking the heavyweight bush skills Lougheed possessed.
With spoiler alerts in mind, suffice to say the two parties managed to survive and get through the extraordinary terrain, but each party had a vastly different view of the experience.
"When I started writing my experiences, as I always do, it occurred to me to ask Kelley to write her version as well," said Lougheed. "We each wrote a day-by-day account of our trip, and I put the two side-by-side on my website [chickenbustales.com]. But it was such a good read that it occurred to us that really, what we had here was the makings of a good book if we spliced it all together."
The two accounts couldn't be more starkly different than if one said "it was raining miserably" and the other said "what a lovely sunshiney day" while standing in the same spot.
In fact, at one point they almost were. By detailing their respective events they discovered that the two parties were only about 500 metres apart at one point, "but up there, on that landscape, half a kilometre might as well have been in China," Lougheed said.
Lougheed has written dozens of books, so she is comfortable exposing her hiking warts to the world. She was impressed that Faubion was so frank in her side of the story.
"She is really hilarious, a good storyteller, and so self-deprecating. She's a natural comic," Lougheed said.
While the Faubion and Goonetilleke side of the story was often the one of most woe, Lougheed readily admitted the large group hit several snags, too.
"I made a wrong call crossing the Duke River and two of us went for a swim, and that was traumatic," Lougheed said. "I got swept against a gravel bar but the force of the current was so strong I couldn't get my leg up onto dry land. If Deb hadn't been strong enough to pull me out, I don't want to think about the rest. And that cost us half a day to collect ourselves, get warm and dry our gear."
On another occasion, the camp was set too close to the water across from a massive glacier. It roared and thundered constantly, but during the night they all sprang awake when the calving of ice was so fierce it shook the ground and caused a surge of water to propel across the lake. It didn't quite reach their tents but "every one of us thought that was it, we were going to die."
There is no room in that powerhouse of a park for nonchalance. Lougheed said the days and days and miles and miles she has invested in Kluane and nearby Tatshenshini Park have steeled her mind to many of the realities of that corner of the earth, but it is a place that bloodies the nose of words like "rugged" and "remote" and steals their lunch money.
She took a recent flight over some of the usual routes she hikes there and admitted "looking down at it from the plane, if I had done that back before I did the first Kluane book, I never would have set foot in the place. It is so intimidating. People think Prince George is wilderness, but this place is another world altogether, and it changes you to hike in those conditions."
To hear the details and see the photos, the public is invited to Art Space on Oct. 7 at 7 p.m. for a slide show and personal account by Lougheed, with some special guests also expected.
The book, published by Repository Press, is available for sale at Books and Company and online through the chickenbus website.
