Circle Game Peak — explor8ion

According to Bivouac.com, “Circle Game Peak” is named after Joni Mitchell’s classic 1970’s song, “Circle Game”. Ok, that’s in line with other peak names in the area such as “Lonely“, “Strong Winds”, “Quixote” and “Ribbon“. If you delve into the lyrics it all starts to make more sense, almost like I planned for this particular summit as my 1k mountain objective.

“We can’t return we can only look, Behind from where we came, And go round and round and round In the circle game.”

Sometimes things just make sense, and in this case Circle Game made more of it than even I realized at first. As I slowly exceed a quarter century of peak bagging in the Canadian Rockies and half a century on this planet, I find myself a changed person from the young buck who first came to Alberta in his early 20’s. Just like the rocks in Coral Creek, my edges have dulled a little in the stream of life, a natural process that has slowly resulted in me becoming exactly who I am, rather than the person I thought I was supposed to be.

As I look back at 1k peaks and life in general, it isn’t all rainbows and unicorns of course, hence the suitability of the Joni Mitchell classic. Indeed, I have regrets about how much time I spent in the mountains when I had a young family. I wish I’d realized earlier in life, the relative unimportance of peakbagging (or any objective-based hobby) compared to love and family. But we can’t return back to the beginning can we?

We can only look behind, where we come from. And despite going round and round (i.e., continuing to bag peaks), we can acknowledge who we’ve become, how much we’ve changed and most importantly, where we are going. And for my 1000th mountain summit I knew exactly where I was going. After venturing up Coral Creek into the Coral Lake meadows and Job Lake area with Sara in 2024, I was somewhat eager to return in 2025. Somewhat, you ask? Why so timid about it? If you read my report, you’d know that despite all the beautiful landscapes and lofty peaks in the Job/Cline PLUZ, they extract a steep price to experience.

The cost is a 28km approach up a wild horse trail with over 2 dozen unbridged crossings of a fast-flowing Coral Creek just to reach the outer edges of the core area. For most folks an approach like this is 2 or 3 days just to approach and egress the area, nevermind actually explore any of it. It’s not unrealistic to plan a 7 to 10-day trip in order to circumvent the same areas that Sara and I did in 2024 – a significant effort with an equally significant sized pack on your back! Worth every penny IMHO, but you should come prepared for everything from interminable stream crossings, rough trails, grizzlies, no trails, willow bashing and biting bugs. Like I said – the area’s beautiful landscapes are well-earned.

With Canada Day approaching, Wietse and I found ourselves with several days off and a weather and life window opening for a 2-3 day trip. After reviewing our lists and current conditions in the Alberta Rockies, only a trip up Coral Creek remained. Originally Sara and I had planned on an ascent of Circle Game Peak on our exit from the area in 2024. In the end we wisely left it for another day as we dragged our exhausted bodies (and in my case a broken back) past its access drainage at the end of a long 4th day. At the time I thought it would be at least a few years before I found myself back up that long approach but here I was again – pulling into the Cline River staging area along Hwy 11 at 08:00 on a beautiful Sunday morning. Our plan for the next day or two was to ascend Circle Game on our way up Coral Creek, hoping to camp at the Coral Creek junction. We hoped to ascend Coral Mountain (Dark Storm) the 2nd day.

We left a quiet parking lot on a dry trail on our 2-wheel steeds, hoping to ride the first 4 kilometers to the top of the big hill. I knew that biking any further up Coral Creek was a failed experiment and despite Wietse’s repeated inquiries, I stuck to that opinion. Sara and I descended and rode another 500 meters up the trail in 2024 before finally calling it quits and I wasn’t about to push my bike back up that bloody hill after a 7-hour exit from camp again! (I learn from my suffering sometimes).

Descending the “big hill” into the Coral Creek drainage from the end of the bike ride.

After locking the bikes to each other and a friendly looking tree we shrugged back into our multi day packs and marched down the horse trail towards a lively Coral Creek far below. While planning the trip our biggest concern wasn’t snowy peaks or a muddy trail (we expected that) but a raging creek. A huge rain and snow event west of YYC had elevated creeks further south, but we were hoping the worst of that storm missed the Coral Creek drainage. As we descended the big hill things were looking pretty positive on that front.

Finishing up the first crossing of a feisty Coral Creek.

I couldn’t believe how dry the horse trail was from the bottom of the big hill to the first stream crossing. It was significantly drier and easier to walk than for Sara and I almost a year ago. In 2024, despite being the height of summer, the area had received a significant dump of snow and rain the days before our trip. This event seriously messed up an already difficult approach, turning the horse track into a mess of poo and muck on top of all its other challenges. It also produced a very lively creek with some deep, fast crossings on route.

Lovely Coral Creek stretches off in front of us.

This time around the trail was bone-dry as we marched to the first crossing and took in the endless valley ahead. The crossing was relatively easy just over knee deep with a strong current as expected. It felt very similar to a year previous and better than expected given the earlier time of year (June compared to August). And indeed, the first crossing proved reasonable. The current was definitely very robust but so are we, so we dealt with it and decided to continue up stream. In theory at least, the first crossing should be one of the strongest, and indeed the first half dozen or so were the trickiest.

Wietse was pleasantly surprised by the amount of forest hiking that the horse trail provides.

Horses dislike loose cobblestones even more than humans and the trail avoids the creek bed whenever possible on either side.

After the first crossing it was time to settle into things. After doing many large days in the hills together, Wietse and I have a familiar pattern to deal with them. We are both math people and we let the numbers guide our expectations. Using a formula that Wietse came up with, we can pretty much predict how long any trip will take us – pretty much no matter the conditions, length or terrain.

Of course, since the trail is constantly searching to avoid the creek it crosses it dozens of times.

8 years later and the burned trees are mostly still standing. It’s HOT in here with no shade.

In this case we had roughly 25 kilometers to the Circle Game approach drainage and we knew that with a 4km/hour pace this would take just over 6 hours. It’s just math! No amount of pushing the pace, wishing it were less hard, or long, or different would change the numbers. That’s why they’re so damn reliable and that’s why we like them. YMMV but your times won’t. Rather than start rushing from the first crossing we simply put one foot in front of the other and slowly let the Coral Creek drainage settle over us.

Endless miles to go. This is lonely country.

After passing through a burn from 2017, still replete with matchstick forest and blackened detritus, we slowly transitioned to more willowy meadows and finally after 17kms of travel from the bikes we made the last crossing (I’d way pointed it the year before) and continued on to our planned ascent drainage under a looming outlier of Circle Game.

A steep grind through the burn only to plunge back down to the creek on the other side. It is what it is. We follow the trail wherever it takes us…

Back in greener landscapes after the burn.

The creek is significantly smaller after passing several drainages already – but still much deeper than it first appears.

Circle Game Peak rises at left with Quixote barely visible in the distance at left.

Finally, at 14:00 hours – exactly as predicted by the math, we found ourselves across from the drainage that would grant us access to Circle Game’s easy looking south slopes. We dumped our extra camping gear near Coral Creek and way pointed it before shrugging back into significantly lighter packs and crossing a much diminished Coral Creek towards the overgrown drainage ahead.

The drainage is tight confines near the bottom necessitating direct travel and wet feet.

The keyword is “overgrown” as we started up the rocky drainage, but it wasn’t horrid. We realized pretty quickly that we’d have to hike right in the creek until things widened out a little but we’re used to that. The slick rocks were a surprise, but again – we’re used to that kind of thing. Eventually the creek widened and even stopped flowing for a bit as willows closed in annoyingly. A short but fierce willow-whack got us onto scree on climber’s left and free of the bush. Wietse exclaimed as he looked ahead, “I think we’re in for a treat”. He wasn’t wrong.

As we continued up the wild drainage – likely the first humans up there in a long, long time (perhaps ever), the pay-off for 7 hours of hard work began. Green meadows underfoot with soaring cliffs and clouds high above. Shrieking marmots and pikas bounced their warnings off rock walls all around us. The sounds of shifting boulders were drowned out by a rushing stream of clear, cold water underfoot.

This is why I was here for my 1000th peak, instead of on an 11000er that I could have been on instead (I was invited on another trip this weekend). I’m at a place in life where a remote scree slog that nobody’s ever done before is more appealing somehow than a lofty 11000er that’s likely been done more times already this year than most peaks within 10-20kms of the one I was currently on have ever been done.

Wietse is tiny ahead as we travel up the drainage to access south slopes of Circle Game which towers high overhead at right here.

The drainage turns rocky as we continue higher.

We continued up-valley until rounding one last corner and spotting a steep rocky drainage that would grant relatively easy access to the giant south slopes still mostly out of sight above. We filled our water bottles one last time before starting up the drainage and more unknown terrain.

We spotted this side drainage which was a handy shortcut up to the giant south scree slopes above.

Continuing up the side drainage towards the now visible giant south slopes.

As we topped out, we were relieved to see no major technical surprises – just huge unbroken slopes rising hundreds of meters to the north. There wasn’t much to do at this point but continue putting one foot in front of the other, so that’s what we did.

Circle Game Peak ahead – pick your line. They all have generous amounts of scree, I guarantee it.

Incredible views back over the access meadows to unnamed outliers to the south.

Views on every side were incredible in afternoon lighting as everything around us slowly shrank down below. The sun played games with shadows on green alpine meadows, now far below as we plodded a familiar pattern up scree. And yes. There was plenty of that! The scree was typical for the area – a mix of packed and horribly loose. I tried to find the best lines, eventually cutting over to a ridge on my right with incredible views down Coral Creek and the line of intimidating peaks SE of Fence Post, marching in a stern line towards a now distant Epiphany and Bright Star Peak.

Views down the giant south scree slopes as we slowly get higher than the unnamed outliers that form a giant horseshoe with Circle Game.

In hindsight it was a good thing that I wasn’t looking at my GPS as I followed gut instinct ever higher. If I were to look at Gaia and my planned route line I would have ended up at a lower summit to the west (interestingly the one labelled on most maps) instead of an obviously higher one to the NE.

Higher than most peaks to the south now – find Wietse in the terrain for scale here.

The false summit above at left with the true summit at right, not far away thank goodness.

The traverse to the slightly higher summit from the false one. I measured it at 2 or 3 meters higher.

From a false summit at the top of my ascent line, I quickly traversed to the nearby highpoint – both of these summits were clearly meters higher than the west one that is marked highest on my maps. There were no signs of a previous human visit at the apex of the Circle Game massif – just a crater from a blast of lightning. Views in every direction were stunning in late afternoon lighting especially over Coral Creek to Quixote, Coral (Dark Storm), Fence Post and others in the area.

Wietse tops out on the false summit behind me as I continue the traverse to the true one.

Views over Coral Creek and Job Pass (R) to Quixote and Strong Winds. The labelled summit is obviously lower at left of center with the false summit also visibly lower at left.

Views towards Job Pass and Carousel Peak.

Telephoto over Job Pass towards Carousel Peak (L) with Mount Esau showing snow in the distance.

Wietse soon joined me at the summit and we stood there enjoying the views and discussing potential difficulties on Fence Post before chilling in the steady wind and starting our descent.

Incredible summit views showing the entirety of Coral Creek from Job Pass (L) all the way to the Cline River (R). Peak visible include (L to R), Carousel, Dark Storm, Fence Post, Hangman, Epiphany, Bright Star and others.

We realized only after getting to the false summit that we’d forgotten to leave any sign of our own passing at the tippy top. This was so in line with our style that we didn’t even bother turning back to build a cairn. Who really cares in the end? The next person up here might think they are an FA. Maybe there were folks before us that did the exact same thing? Who knows? Who cares? Not us. It was funny though – a milestone peak for me whether I like to admit it or not, and not a trace that I was ever there other than this endless tome on the internet and a video on YouTube with 127 views. Just the way I like it.

Descending giant scree and shale slopes to the alpine meadows far below. Strong Winds Peak at distant right.

We chose a slightly different descent line down the south face, but essentially it was similar to our ascent and very straightforward, albeit a little painful now that we were many kilometers and many hours into our day.

Our descent route at upper left and egress meadows at right of center (find Wietse – he’s in there somewhere).

From the lovely upper alpine meadows below the south face we easily descended back into the main access drainage and started down towards Coral Creek in growing shadows and cooler air.

Descending back into the main access drainage.

It didn’t take long and we were reunited with our overnight gear. It’s always a challenging moment when you shrug back into a heavier pack after finishing with an approach peak and continue up a trail rather than set up camp right afterwards. A positive moment came soon enough when we realized that instead of the 5kms we thought we had to travel, it was actually only 2.5!

Shadows grow long as we exit the drainage.

The 2.5 remaining kilometers felt longer than they should have, but we could be forgiven for that at the end of a 38km, 11 hour day with over 1700 meters of height gain and dozens of powerful creek crossings. There was a significant amount of height gain from the Circle Game drainage to an old horse camp at the junction of Coral Creek and the Job Pass drainage where we finally put down the packs and started setting up camp in tired silence. We’d decided at this point that Fence Post wasn’t in the cards for us this trip and we’d be tagging Coral Mountain and tackling the long exit the next day . An 04:30 wake up time should ensure that we made it back to the parking lot with time to drive home in daylight.

Continuing up the Coral Creek trail to the horse camp 2.5 kilometers past Circle Game. Quixote Peak holding the sun here.

It felt good to settle into my tent and by 21:00 I was passed out, the sounds of a nearby stream and happy birds serenading my sleep. I feel good about my choice for a 1000th summit – probably 997 of them in the Canadian Rockies. It suited my style and current love of remote places to a tee and I had no regrets on this particular day in the hills.