"Kellwasser" & "Little Brother" Peak

The summit east of Devon Mountain has no name. I can find no name attached to it in any register, guidebook, or trip report I’ve been able to turn up. I’m proposing Kellwasser Peak rather than the usual bivouac drudgery, “HC12”. I’ll run through the logic of this name in a few paragraphs, but first let’s get into just where the heck this peak sits and what the heck Phil Richards and I were doing on it as a thunderstorm raced across the Pipestone River valley towards us.

It’s been a while since Phil Richards and I last went out on a Rockies adventure together. I think it was back in late August 2023 on a trip into McConnell and Roaring Creek. That is WAY too long and I’m shocked to realize just how many years have somehow floated by since our last outing. Time flies, doesn’t it? Ah well, we always stayed in touch and there was no big reason for it - sometimes life throws curve balls and the stars don’t align. As the years ticked by we grew more and more determined to make something happen and finally it did.

Back in 2019, Phil managed to be the first (public) ascent of the remote and hard to access Deluc Mountain in quite some time. I followed him later that summer on an epic 3.5 day trip into the heart of Banff which included ascents to Deluc, Dip Slope and Clearwater Mountain with Mike Mitchell and Cornelius Rott. We used the Mosquito Creek Trail and then two high cols to get from the Mosquito Creek drainage into the Pipestone River valley and then into what I’m now dubbing the Kellwasser Lakes valley.

At the time I remember thinking that I’d likely be back some day for a couple of reasons. First, there was the Kellwasser Lakes themselves. There’s an upper and lower lake and both are gorgeous in their own right. Phil has camped a number of times at the upper lake and my group set up camp at the lower one. Second, I’ve always been fascinated by the so-called Three Brothers Peaks. The only official summit of the triad is Deluc Mountain, but there are two more lofty summits nearby. The first documented ascent of these peaks was by Katie Gardiner and Ernst Feuz, Jr. in September of 1937. It was Katie who named them Three Brothers, “because they seemed akin and adjacent” (Glen Boles, “Place Names of the Canadian Alps”, p. 329).

Just as the Three Sisters peaks near Canmore, they are named by height rather than position and unlike the sisters, they are not aligned by the same token which leads to confusion on their locations (see my map above). Years ago already, I remember reading Rick Collier’s trip reports on all three of the brothers, determining that I would some day follow in his determined footsteps. For a somewhat hilarious and intriguing story, read Rick’s account of a Death Race to the summit of Little Brother and back (to Mosquito Ck Trailhead) in September of 2004.

When Phil contacted me earlier this summer about a trip together, I eagerly agreed and we waited for the snow to start melting and then the torrential rains to stop falling. 😮 Finally, we agreed that something could be arranged for July 11 & 12 and set about exploring just exactly what that plan could be. With snow still affecting many trails and definitely high passes and peaks in the Rockies, we had to choose our destinations with some care. Using a combination of experience, satellite imagery and imagination we decided it was time to visit the Kellwasser Lakes and ascend Little Brother from the Three Brothers Glacier.

Phil had already ascended Kellwasser Peak some years previous but it was in a snow squall, so he agreed to repeat it in order to boost my motivation for the long trek. Yes, I’m still mostly motivated by summits! 🏔️

Ok, now that we’ve resolved just what Dr. Phil and I were doing there, let’s get back to the admittedly very unofficial name I’m giving this Peak and its nearby lakes. The logic runs through its neighbour. Devon Mountain has nothing to do with the English county — the Geographic Board of Canada’s 1928 Place-names of Alberta records that it was named on account of the Devonian rocks in the area. The peak next door therefore sits inside an existing geological naming cluster, and there’s a good argument for staying in it rather than reaching for another dead surveyor.

The Late Devonian ended in one of the Big Five mass extinctions, around 372 million years ago. It fell hardest on the reef-builders: stromatoporoids and the rugose and tabulate corals that had built the great Devonian reef systems were effectively erased, and reefs would not return at comparable scale for tens of millions of years. That extinction is named the Kellwasser event, after the Kellwassertal — a small valley in the Harz Mountains of Germany, the name meaning something like “cellar water.” Adolf Roemer described its dark, fossil-rich limestone horizons in 1850. When identical beds began turning up across Europe and eventually across the world, they took the name of the valley where they had first been recognized. A minor German toponym became the standard international term for a planetary catastrophe.

There is a pleasing symmetry in sending it back the other way. A valley named a rock; the rock named an extinction; the extinction now names a mountain — and the mountain is built of the rock. The cliffs ringing the Devon Lakes are Palliser Formation limestone, Late Devonian carbonate deposited on a shallow tropical shelf not unlike the Bahama Banks. The scenery here is the wreckage of that world, thrust several kilometres into the air and then carved back down by ice.

So, I’m going with a very unofficial but also somewhat relevant, “Kellwasser Peak” on this one. Pronounced roughly kell-VAH-ser. I’m including the two lovely lakes in my scheme. _____________________________________________________________________

Day 1 - Mosquito Creek - Pipestone River - Kellwasser Lakes and Peak

After a pleasant drive from his house in Canmore, we managed to find parking in a very busy Mosquito Creek lot before gearing up and marching up a very familiar Mosquito Creek Trail. I won’t bore you with too many details on this popular trek other than to say there were some washed (avalanched?) out bridges to the first campground, resulting in earlier-than-usual wet feet. Thankfully there was a brand new bridge over a roaring Mosquito Creek which was much feistier than either of us had ever seen it.

The campground was fairly busy but as usual there weren’t many folks tramping up the “horse churned hell of a trail” beyond to the Molar Meadows above. Actually, the trail is more damaged by water nowadays than by equine hooves. We were both taken aback by just how deteriorated this trail has become since we first started hiking it many years ago. It’s hard not to go down a conspiracy rabbit hole regarding Parks Canada dissuading active use on some of their trails by non-maintenance rather than outright closures. What else explains the lack of modern trail building in some of these deservedly popular areas? 🤔

We were hoping for a wildflower explosion as we enjoyed the last time we were hiking this trail together. In 2017 we were gobsmacked by the sheer numbers of florets in the Molar Meadows on our way into a memorable ascent of Cataract Peak. Alas, it was not to be. We’ve both been through here many times since and neither of us have experienced it like that again. 💐

After crossing the outlet flow from an unnamed pond sitting below The Fang we tramped up towards the “Mosquito Col” shortcut route granting access into the upper Pipestone River Valley on the other side. We weren’t exactly shocked by the amount of snow sitting around, but it was substantial considering the time of year. Time flew by as we trekked off trail to the high col, we had lots to talk about after 3 years! It was amusing how quickly we were back into familiar discussions of philosophy, science and social issues - there’s a reason we have trekked into so many remote areas of the Rockies together.

I remembered a gorgeous unnamed lake at the Mosquito Col and sure enough - it was still there. Of course it was half frozen and we ended up traversing soft snow around its shore before continuing steeply to the high col above.

Our first views over the Pipestone River Valley were encouraging, despite some apprehension about steep snow slopes to gain access down to it.

Thankfully the snow was soft enough that there were no issues and soon we were intersecting the Pipestone River Trail before veering off to the NE, now targeting the Kellwasser Col granting access to the hidden Shangri-la just beyond.

Crossing the river near its source was a non-issue despite all the melt going on and soon we were once again sweating our way up a high col. To be honest we actually weren’t quite as warm as we’d originally hoped we’d be while planning the trip.

Despite a forecast of sun and cloud with no rain, we were experiencing something a little different. Dark clouds raced overhead and periods of very light rain kept threatening our little corner of the world. Further north and west looked downright apocalyptic at times! ⚡

As we crested the Kellwasser Col our views over the namesake lakes got us even more excited for our upcoming stay. (Yes, we had permits from Parks Canada to random camp here.) If I had any doubts before the trip, they were regarding the next bit of terrain to actually get down to the lovely lakes below.

I wondered if our light footwear (as usual we were both in trail runners) would be sufficient to descend the steep snow covered slopes just beneath the col, stretching down a few hundred meters and very exposed. In the end we managed to get down, but not before scrambling SC6 terrain to avoid snow slopes that were indeed a little steep for our nerves / equipment.

(Looking back up the headwall later we determined that there was a much easier route further to the north than what we took. Simply going up the ridge NW of the col before trending down to the east provides much less exposed terrain but still requires careful routefinding.)

After exiting the steep rock we traversed rubble and snow to a perfect campsite next to a feisty stream draining Upper Kellwasser Lake. It was only around 1430 as we set up our little camp and pondered our Objective rising to the NW under a threatening, grey sky.

Once camp was set up and we had a short break, we decided that with an ominous sky and VERY gusty winds we should likely start up Kellwasser Peak sooner than later or it might not happen today.

With nervous glances to our left (we couldn’t see over the wall of rock), we crossed the outlet stream near our tents and started up a lovely alpine ridge overlooking the upper lake. There was still some ice on this high body of water - crazy in mid-July! 🧊

Originally our plan was to traverse to the far col between an outlier of Devon and Kellwasser (Phil’s previous ascent route) but as we got closer to our objective and the weather continued to grow more and more threatening we decided to attack the south face directly to the summit as efficiently as possible.

Despite appearances the route worked very well. At first I thought it would be horrid scree or far too steep on slabs, but it was neither. I stayed on moderate slabs for a very quick and efficient ascent while Phil gave his legs a break on more gently angled scree and slab a bit further along the south face.

Eventually our routes came together and as the clouds continued to threaten we continued a furious pace to beat whatever was coming with them to the top. Phil really wasn’t in the mood to be in a greyout for a second time on this silly, unofficial peak! I yelled over to Phil that, “we’re gonna get slammed by a tstorm” as we stepped onto a windy, cool summit with absolutely stunning views over the Devon Lakes to the Mount Willingdon massif across the upper Clearwater valley below.

Too bad we didn’t have more time to enjoy the views but we really didn’t. We hadn’t heard thunder yet but it was almost inevitable with the dark front moving rapidly towards us. After snapping as many photos as I dared, I followed Phil who was already bailing off the summit block.

Rather than muck around with anything fancy on descent, we decided to bail down continuous snow on the south face. This proved a good decision as peels of thunder echoed over our corner of the Rockies. Oh oh. One thing I have avoided on almost all of my hundreds of Rockies summits is thunderstorms. There is no quicker way to get yourself injured or dead in the mountains than lightning. ⛈️

Thankfully the descent was quick and easy on the surprisingly firm snow and within 30 minutes of the summit we were down the south face and starting towards camp. Despite some thunder, rain, ice pellets and fierce wind on the upper face, things calmed down enough to enjoy the next few hours. The wind continued to gust very strong as we had supper and I explored the waterfall just downstream. Despite some brief moments of warm sunshine, the theme was clouds and threatening rain as evening settled in.

It was only 2000 when we noticed more dark clouds - this time with obvious moisture dropping out. Rather than fuss about getting soaked, we decided to bail to the tents.

That was it for me! I must have been tired because I spent the next 10 hours or so listening to podcasts and sleeping. The rushing stream nearby acted as a strong white noise machine. I wouldn’t have heard a grizzly if they were yelling in my ear. 🐻

Day 2 - Little Brother - Pipestone River - Fish Lakes - Mosquito Creek

I woke up several times as daylight slowly broke over the Kellwasser Lakes valley deep in the Banff backcountry. My bed was comfortable and I was warm so I kind of ignored the day ahead and dozed back off. I was surprised how well I slept but the winds overnight were very strong. Several times I was worried the tent might blow away and was very thankful for the rocks I’d piled on the tent pegs while setting up the day before.

Finally I yelled over at Phil that we should get up and he agreed. It was so darn windy I could barely hear him despite the fact that he was only around 10 feet away! 🌬️ Despite seeing plenty of blue sky through the tent when I first woke up, I was a little miffed to see dark skies building overhead as I stumbled into fresh air.

Just as the day before, there wasn’t much to do but prepare for the day ahead and hope there wasn’t a significant moisture event looming. I checked BoltWX on my iPhone and it assured nothing but sunshine so we settled on that idea and slowly packed up camp.

Thankfully the skies continued to clear as we slowly wandered our way past the lower Kellwasser Lake teaming with a surprising amount of wildlife compared to the upper one. We counted at least 8 black and white Barrow’s Goldeneye ducks floating around and even more surprising was a huge splash right next to us with an annoyed beaver swimming quickly away! This must be the world’s highest dwelling water rodent. I wonder how the heck they wandered all the way up here? Did they come from the Devon Lakes or from the further away trio of Martin / Trident or Clearwater Lake? A mystery for sure!

We knew we’d be hiking on significant snow today and this proved to be the case. We slowly made our way up a mix of snow and rock ribs to the col between Little Brother and an outlier to the west.

Views back to Kellwasser Peak with the lakes and waterfalls with the Willingdon group rising beyond were stunning already from here. Obviously views towards Deluc Mountain and some of its unnamed outliers were also great from this vantage.

One fly in the ointment was the brutal wind that continued to gust stronger than I’ve experienced outside of Waterton in the Rockies. Several times we had to stop moving in order to keep our balance and not blow over. It was annoying to say the least but at least the sky was mostly blue at this point.

From our top out point we had to drop about 50 meters to the col granting access to the west face and ridge of Little Brother. On first glance we worried about the incredibly steep snow but after some poking around it turned out to be very harmless and we quickly descended to the col.

After dropping our packs we started up the easy west face and ridge of Little Brother Peak. Despite appearances the rubble was quick travel and the route was simple SC5 scrambling and within 45 minutes of the col we were taking in some more jaw-dropping views.

I was excited about the views deep down to Three Brothers (Rock Isle) Lake. This lake sits between Deluc and Little Cataract Peak and is almost impossible to view properly from anywhere else. The morning light was perfectly angled to show off the sparkling green waters.

The summit was blasted apart by lightning so we rebuilt a small cairn and hunted in vain for a register before turning back down to our packs at the col.

Soon we were looking out over another big unknown landscape - our exit down a high alpine bowl to the Pipestone River. If I’d read Rick’s “Death Race” article before our trip I’d have been much less apprehensive that this route would go, but I hadn’t so I was. The first part looked very straightforward so we shrugged into our packs and set off down more snow slopes to the rolling terrain below.

Wouldn’t you know it? Every route we chose for the next few hours just seemed to work perfectly. Some days are like this in the hills (others are most certainly not).

This is what exploring the Rockies is all about and this is why Phil and I get along so well. We’ve spent many days tramping up and down remote valleys all over the place, finding old outfitter trails and scoping out high col routes and hidden lakes and waterfalls along the way.

This was another day like those others and it was great.

I was a little nervous about the south exit from the high alpine landscape we were in to the pipestone valley. Would it go easily or would there be cliffs? It was unknown and we were kind of hooped if we ran into impassable terrain.

But everything worked perfectly and we found an easy route down snow and scree to a massive avalanche runout filling the valley floor beneath us.

There were some huge avalanches this past spring and one of them definitely occurred here. Big trees were ripped out and piled many feet high and for a while we wondered if we’d have to navigate over this mess. Like I said however, our route continued to work perfectly and we found an almost bushwhack free route around the piles of tangled trees into a light forest descending to the Pipestone River. Sweet.

ONE more obstacle remained in front of us. What would the Pipestone River crossing be like? With warnings about high water all over the Rockies, we knew we were taking a chance. Nope. No big deal. As we hiked the trail to the crossing we realized it was a complete nonissue. Yes, it was higher than normal but very easy. Thankfully the crossing is at a split in the river, making it even more reasonable than otherwise.

From the crossing we were on trail to the parking lot. This didn’t mean we had no work ahead of us, but it was mindless and relatively risk free at least. We’ve both hiked past Fish (Bug!) Lakes many times and knew what to expect.

The final push up North Molar Pass was relatively straightforward but involved a lot of snow and more energy then a clear path would have. All good in the end as we summited the pass and started downhill to the parking lot.

I’ve said it before, but long distance hiking is an interesting mind game. There is no mystery to it. One foot in front of the other. Do that long enough and you end up where you’re planning to go. 😀 It’s math. You hike a certain pace for a certain amount of time and you go a certain distance. It’s not really about the distance but the time ahead of you. From North Molar Pass we knew it would take over 2 hours. There was no way to change it, so we settled into things.

Long silences were broken by lively conversations as we slowly reversed our approach only the day before. We didn’t see another soul all day - surprising on such a gorgeous Sunday in July. The parking lot was a welcome sight as we crossed the highway and settled into A/C and comfort once again.

This trip ticked all the boxes for me. Good trails. Routes that worked out despite challenges with snow. A beautiful campsite. Obscure summits with stunning views over gorgeous lakes. A good sleep and a sneaky route back to the Pipestone River and a trail. It was wonderful to hang with Phil again - it’s been WAY TOO LONG. We are already busy planning the next one. 😀