Elk Peak ("V7", Elk Pass, Lake)

September 11, 2025, Banff National Park

Summit
2967 m unofficial
Gain
1750 m (Round trip was 10 hours 15 minutes including 45 minutes on Peak V6; the stated time excludes that attempt.)
Distance
32 km (Round trip was 10 hours 15 minutes including 45 minutes on Peak V6; the stated time excludes that attempt.)
Round trip
9.5 hr (Round trip was 10 hours 15 minutes including 45 minutes on Peak V6; the stated time excludes that attempt.)
Technical
SC7
Activity
scramble, hike
Fun factor
5 of 5
Quick 'n dirty
Class 3+ - you fall, you break something badly or worse.
Difficulty
A hard moderate or easy difficult, depending on what you are in the mood for.

I don’t remember when I first heard of Elk Peak (what David Jones calls “Peak V7”), rising high above lovely Elk Lake in Banff National Park. I do remember reading Peter Nelson’s trip report on Bivouac.com and thinking it sounded like something I might enjoy. After Cornelius Rott reported positively on the same objective a year after Peter did it, I thought it sounded even more attractive and put it on my sooner-than-later list.

What I liked about Elk Peak was that it was reasonably far from the parking lot along a good access trail. It was a relatively obscure peak that most other people wouldn’t care about, and it sounded mildly challenging with both authors giving it a difficult rating. Elk Lake sounded very scenic and I’d never hiked up to Elk Pass before either. All in all it ticked a lot of boxes for me and in hindsight I’m surprised I didn’t tackle it sooner. Sira Peak (V10) is still one of my favorite scrambles and is located just north of Elk Peak with an even longer approach up 40-Mile Creek.

Finding myself with a day off on Thursday, September 11, I thought it was time to see what the fuss was all about. The last time I’d hiked up this trail was way back in 2009 on a solo trip up Cascade Mountain. As I hiked through a quiet Norquay ski resort I was thinking to myself that I ran into a black bear on that trip.

Just as I was thinking about the bear encounter, something made me glance into the forest on my left and sure enough! There was a nice fat black bear munching on berries right in the resort along the road that connects the chair lifts. Jeez. I wasn’t even out of the resort yet and I was running into bears. The bruin had zero interest in me, they were much too focused on breakfast. I decided I had a similar amount of interest in them and continued marching towards the Elk Pass Trailhead near the Mystic Chair.

From the last chairlift the “real” hiking begins on a well travelled and signed trail leading several places. Care must be taken that you end up in the right valley — you don’t want to trek up 40-Mile Creek. Since this is also the approach to one of Banff National Park’s most popular scrambles, Cascade Mountain — I was reasonably sure I wouldn’t be the only hiker. I was wrong.

Either I was too early, or maybe smoky Thursday’s in September aren’t prime time for this area. Either way, I enjoyed the hardpack highway trail as much as one can enjoy such things. All the height loss to the bridge across 40-Mile Creek was a bummer but it’s the cost of entry so I paid for it. It didn’t take long and I was passing the “Cascade Amphitheater” (and mountain) junction and continuing on a much smaller and softer trail towards Elk Pass.

The first thing I noticed as I continued marching up the trail was all the dang berries along it. Seriously — this was like hiking through a McDonalds drive thru for bears! I knew my voice was going to be hoarse after today, I had to yell constantly in order to let any feasting bruins know that I was coming.

I also noticed that there was no bear scat along the trail and that there was plenty of open forest for everyone to avoid each other in case of an encounter. This made me feel a little better about hiking here solo in the height of bear encounter season.

There really isn’t much else to say about the first few hours of this hike. There are almost no views, the forest isn’t that interesting and there are hardly any wildflowers, creeks, waterfalls or even wildlife or birds here. There’s a reason you haven’t taken aunt Edna up here yet and you probably shouldn’t. She’ll complain the whole way up and who needs that nonsense in their life? 😉

Finally, after a few hours of yelling for bears, putting up with angry squirrels and stumbling across grumpy ptarmigans, the trail narrowed, steepened, and grew rocky as it paralleled a lively little creek. (I should point out that there are several sources of water along this trail but not many.)

The forest moved in tightly here and there was no longer a comfort of “room for all creatures” but rather a “one track collision” potential. The yelling grew a little louder to compensate for both the bubbling brook and the closed-in path. Soon, to my relief, the trail once again opened up and I entered my first alpine meadows and views of Peak V7 rising far in the distance over them.

Typical for many passes of the Rockies, the area around Elk Pass consisted of willows, deep horse tracks and old signage. Also typical, the landscape opened up on either side and the atmosphere widened. The camera came out much more often and breathing grew deeper as I inhaled the sweet ‘n sour smells of late summer.

I felt deeply satisfied with my choice for today as I hiked all by myself in this magical kingdom. We are so lucky to have these places, nevermind having them all to ourselves most of the time! I don’t think many folks realize that even in one of Canada’s busiest national parks it isn’t that hard to go for a hike and be completely alone all day if you want.

I do realize that for folks like Aunt Edna, this is a nightmare scenario — they would rather be surrounded by crowds of people than sharing a remote pass with 2 grizzlies. I usually prefer bears to humans… After coming to an intersection and sign indicating the Elk Campground to the left, I followed a narrow side path through willows towards a delightful campground nestled in the cool shade of pine trees.

Despite the approach trail being somewhat dull, I found the small campsite extremely pleasant. A small stream trickled through it, providing fresh water, and there were three tent pads that I could see. The aforementioned pines provided cool shade and I almost stopped for a snooze, it was such a pleasant atmosphere. But I had a peak to bag and a lake to check out — no time for relaxing today Vern! The life of a peakbagger can be challenging sometimes folks. I continued through the camp and followed a small path winding its way uphill behind the last tenting pad.

The small path was a shortcut back to a wide trail (old road?) winding its way around a ridge above camp towards Elk Lake. I’m sure that back in the day (1960’s or 70’s), folks likely drove to Elk Lake for a nice day of fishing.

The wide track certainly resembled the Cascade fire road that was used for similar activities to other lakes, i.e. Snow Pass . As I hiked through deep forest along the trail towards Elk Lake, I felt like the boring approach hike was already 100% worth it. Outliers of Peak V6 loomed in the distance and the trail snaked its way along the ridge through the cool shadows. I felt like this was exactly what I needed today — and I hadn’t even seen the lake or climbed my peak yet!

I descended a short way and my day got even better. Elk Lake sparkled in the morning sun with its namesake peak rising dramatically overhead. Birds chirped happily above yellowing meadows and fish blew bubbles on the smooth surface as I approached. What a magical little spot this was turning out to be!

I am constantly still being surprised in the Alberta Rockies, despite doing many hundreds of approach hikes and backpacks through them. I can say without hesitation that Elk Lake is a worthwhile destination in its own right. Give me a good book or a fishing pole and I could easily whittle away an afternoon or two on its shores. Somehow the lake was also much bigger than it appears on photos — I was expecting a small round pond.

Elk Peak looked very intimidating from here. I passed the tiny island that is connected by a manmade causeway as I hiked the south shores to steep rubble slopes under the east face. I decided to check out the island on return and started picking my way up towards an obvious line of cliffs and gullies high above. I was now just over 3 hours into my day and I was not moving slowly.

I was feeling very fast ‘n fit and was enjoying the heck out of this particular objective so far. I was, however, also feeling a little nervous with what lay above me. The east ridge and face did not look easy from directly underneath them. I noticed that many of the steep gullies on the east face had been flushed completely of debris by summer rainstorms.A series of ledges and slabs in one of the gullies just south (climber’s left) of the upper east ridge looked particularly attractive as I ascended under it on rubble and scree.

Since I was in my trustyArc’teryx Sylan Pro runners with their amazing grippy rubber, I was sorely tempted to simply go straight up the gully rather than fool around with the obviously crumbly ridge route that Cornelius and others had used for ascent. I knew the gully would get very steep, but it looked so dang fun I simply had to try it. Worst case I could descend the ridge — I remembered Cornelius saying it was easier than he expected on descent. My mind made up, I continued straight up into the slab gully.

With my day going so well, the gully ascent only made it even better. Just as I thought, the rock was grippy, fun and very quick to ascend. Also as expected, it got bloody steep in places! The only fly in the ointment was a slight deviation near the lower part where I had to exit on climber’s right to avoid a section too steep for even my Sylan Pros. After that brief detour I was back in the gut for the next few hundred vertical meters, following staircase terrain and some narrow cracks as it broke east facing cliffs ever higher.

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Way too soon I was done with the main gully and looking up at the east face to the SE ridge still high above. The upper face was not nearly as clean as the gully had been. There was ball bearing scree and annoying rubble on the slabs here, slowing down progress and feeling much less secure than the much steeper gully had. I slowly deviated to climber’s right until I was on the east ridge. Ironically,almost as soon as I hit the ridge I had to deviate back to my left to gain the SE summit ridge past an overhang.

I stepped onto the SE ridge between peak V6 to the south and V7 to the north and gulped a few times at what I was seeing. Despite Cornelius assuring me that the route was easy to moderate scrambling, it sure didn’t appear that way at first glance! I

I knew that things would slacken off as I approached and trusted my experience as I started up towards the still distant summit. It took a while to hike the ridge to steeper terrain under the summit, but thankfully views weren’t terrible despite a smoky haze in the air.

Elk Lake sparkled far below and peak V6 looked terrifying behind me. The ridge underfoot was narrow and exposed in places, but never more than moderate scrambling.

Steeper terrain led to the summit block, but again there were reasonable routes up rubble and slab that weren’t nearly as tough as they first appeared. Within 5 hours of the Norquay parking lot, I was standing at the tippy top of Elk Peak.

I signed an anemic register and took in the surrounding peaks before turning my attention to my next objective — peak V6.

After a relatively straightforward descent back to the V7/V6 col I had a decision to make. I knew that Devan P. had combined the two peaks but also knew that peak V6 was a different beast from V7 — it was much more technical. Devan assured me no more than low-5th or 4th class but it looked positively fierce to me. Again, I’ve done enough Rockies peaks to know that things aren’t usually as hard as they first appear.

I gave myself at most 1 hour to summit V6 and told myself it wasn’t worth dying over an unofficial summit that was lower than the one I’d already done.I won’t say too much more about it, but suffice it to say that today wasn’t the day for me and Peak V6. After some exposed traversing over the col towards an obvious crux, I could see where Devan had ascended some low-5th terrain on the ridge, to a cairn above.

It wasn’t, “you fall, you die” stuff, but it was very steep and about 20 feet high. I could get myself half way up with good handholds but from there it was quite committing and I wasn’t sure I was in the mood. Making it tougher mentally, was that I didn’t even think this was the crux — I thought the harder terrain was still to come and had no idea how much more of it there was. On arriving home, Devan assured me that this was actually the crux. Had I known that I likely would have done it but c’est la vie.

Sometimes you make choices on route that are easy to 2nd guess later but I don’t play that game anymore. I spent some time traversing obvious ledges atop the east face to see if I could find a sneaky by-pass to the crux but that didn’t pan out either. I shrugged and went back towards my descent line. Peak V6 wasn’t going to happen for me today.

As I traversed just under the SE ridge to the east access ridge that Cornelius ascended, I decided it looked a little friendlier for descent than my ascent gully. Especially the rubble on slab just above my ascent line looked nasty to descend, so why not try the blockier east ridge? Surprisingly the ridge worked great and didn’t feel that difficult after what I’d already done today.

I totally agree with Cornelius that descent doesn’t feel that hard for some reason on this ridge. I think it’s the blocky nature of the terrain and the fact that exposure is limited in most places.

Once I was off the ridge it was much quicker terrain to lower rubble slopes above Elk Lake than what I’d ascended (it was looser). For this reason, and the fact that the ridge felt quite moderate, I would recommend both my route up and down on this one. YMMV.

The lake had featured prominently all day and now it was time to check out the cool little island and its rocky causeway on return.

I was surprised to come across a rather large circle of rocks, piled about 1.5 feet high on the tiny island. Complete with an obvious opening, this must have been a campsite in days past. Camping is no longer allowed at this lake.

I wandered slowly along the shoreline one last time, gazing back at the growing shadows and the smoke filtered light on the soaring cliffs surrounding it. It was hard to leave this paradise, especially with the knowledge of what lay ahead. There was no more adventure to be had today, only a long lonely tramp back to the parking lot.

Surprisingly, I continued to be all alone, right back to the Norquay ski hill where I finally saw some workers prepping for ski season just ahead. My round trip time of 10 hours, 15 minutes included 45 minutes on peak V6, so I kindly removed that in the stats above.

As you can probably tell from my tone throughout this report, I enjoyed the living heck out of my day on this relatively obscure, unofficial Banff peak. Did it have the most scenic and engaging approach?

Nope, definitely nope.

Was the boring approach worth it for the experience of Elk Lake and the subsequent ascent of V7?

Yup. Definitely yup.