Silvertip Mountain

I was hoping that the fall of 2026 would make up for the slow (wet) start to the season and it certainly has. Despite some brief hiccups this shoulder season has been characterised by cool nights and brilliant clear days, warm enough to melt any snow that has dared to fall so far. A few weeks ago I thought I was done for another year after a gloriously warm and sunny day on Pickletooth and Dogtooth Mountain. The very next day it snowed in Calgary and we “enjoyed” a cold, wet Thanksgiving weekend. I thought for sure the mountains must be plastered in a fresh white coat and started cleaning up my hiking gear.

But wait a second! Why were my socials filled with photos of snow-free conditions as far west as Lake Louise a week later?! Goshdarnnit. Now I had to lug my hiking gear back out of the basement and figure out what to do on Friday, October 16 thanks to another perfect forecast. Sometimes it’s hard being me, folks. But someone has to be so here we are and there I was. 😀

As unlikely as it was, I decided that after several false starts this year, I was going to give Silvertip Mountain in the Skoki area of Lake Louise a late season attempt. “Silvertip” is an unofficial summit sitting high above Lake Merlin, the Red Deer Lakes and Little Pipestone Creek. It is the northernmost summit on a long ridge that starts with Merlin Ridge, goes over “Sectional”, “Jut Mountain” and several other unnamed high points, ending in a prominent summit that’s often tipped with lingering snow (hence the name).

The only reason I knew about Silvertip Mountain was a trip report from Matt Hobbs in 2023 where he labels the summit from several viewpoints around Lake Merlin. He got the name from sources at the Skoki Lodge where he was staying at the time. So despite being unofficial, these names have likely been used by locals for many years.

Before getting into the trip report I guess I should discuss the whole “bike-vs-no-bike” thing around the Lake Louise ski out road along Corral Creek. Ever since I started hiking the Skoki area in Lake Louise I’ve used a bike to cover the first 4kms of road up the ski out to a small shed at its end. Although the ascent ride is brutally steep, the return at the end of a long day makes the morning suffering worth it. In 2025 a small “no bikes” sign appeared at the trailhead from the Fish Creek parking lot.

There was no big announcement and no explicit banning of bikes on Parks Canada’s website. A friend on Facebook confirmed with Parks Canada that despite the sign, biking was not banned by them - implying that the ban was temporary, from the ski resort and not really enforceable by law. So naturally, I promptly ignored it. After doing some more digging, however, I’m no longer convinced it’s NOT enforceable by Parks Canada (and therefore subject to a $25k fine).

My conclusion? I’m not risking it until that sign is removed and / or the line on the map above turns green. YMMV. With that out of the way, I arrived at the parking lot on a dark, chilly morning and was shocked to be the only vehicle there. I think that’s a first for me in this area. There were no vehicles in the main lot or even along the road - I was going to be ALONE today. Immediately on hiking out of the lot with my headlamp on, I ran into a guy with bright lights of his own. He stopped me and made me wait for a logging truck to drive out of the gate, telling me the next one was due to come down the road in about an hour. I assured him I’d be off the road by then. He seemed doubtful but couldn’t stop me, so up the road I went!

It was dark as I plodded up the hardpack surface, passed occasionally by a truck from the resort. Apparently they were logging the “Ptarmigan Ridge” ski run while the conditions were so warm and dry. There certainly was no snow to be groomed anywhere around me as daylight slowly broke and I gained the end of the road. I could see workers loading a truck with fresh logs below me as I turned up the well used trail to Boulder Pass.

It was at this point that I became very nervous about running into a bear today. Why? There were two signs on trail, warning of an aggressive and curious grizzly and covering the entire Skoki backcountry. 😮🐻 I remembered a Facebook post from a few weeks earlier where a father and son were threatened by this bear while ascending Mount Richardson. They were throwing rocks and yelling at it and it wasn’t fazed at all. Thankfully it didn’t attack them, but here I was in the same area with warning signs all over the place.

I was ALL ALONE. I don’t mean just hiking solo, there was literally NOBODY else in all of Skoki as far as I could tell. There were no cars parked atop the road (where lodge staff and guests park) and the lower lot was only me. Regular readers of my blog will know that I hike solo in grizzly country all the time and rarely mention it. Heck! On my Dogtooth Mountain trip I was all alone in a much more isolated area that has had multiple grizzly fatalities over the years. That trailhead has a permanent sign warning hikers of this and I just marched past it like it wasn’t even there. Why was I so nervous today? I’m not sure, but I certainly was! I knew I was looking at a 40km day, deep into the heart of Skoki and completely alone in late season.

I spent the next hour or so in a furious dialogue with myself. I debated everything from turning around immediately to hiking Fossil Peak instead (a repeat, but not so far and isolated). It took some doing but I finally convinced myself to grow a pair and at the very least hike to Boulder Pass before making any decisions. I (correctly) assumed that the longer I hiked without getting mauled by a rogue bear, the more comfortable I’d feel being out here. As I crested a very familiar Boulder Pass and took in the wonderful scene over Ptarmigan Lake to the two giants looming over it in the distance, I decided I was going for it today, aggressive bears be damned!

I was shocked at the dry conditions. Even giant summits such as Mount St. Bride and Douglas were almost entirely snow free. I knew I wouldn’t have any issues with snow today, but it was also glaringly obvious that the larch season was done. A few trees had dull orange or brown needles, but most of them were denuded of foliage. As I summited Packer’s Pass I took in the views around me and marveled - not for the first time - how lucky I was to be here today. It was much warmer at the pass and as I descended to the Skoki Lakes the air temperature plunged back down.

Zigadenus Lake was mostly frozen as I hiked above it - my 2nd time here this year. As I hiked down a headwall to Myosotis Lake, it was mostly ice free.

Sunrise over Deception Pass from atop the headwall and notch under a large boulder was surreal and soon I was tramping down the Skoki Valley towards the lodge and my trail up to Lake Merlin. The trail through a pine forest was tighter than I remembered but it didn’t take long to reach “the fork” and within 3 hours of the parking lot I was already ascending to Lake Merlin.

Hiking in this area is great. There are so many checkpoints to help pass the time and distance. First there’s the ski out road, then halfway hut, Boulder Pass, Packer’s Pass, Skoki Lakes and “the fork”. From there you have Lake Merlin, Dragon’s Drink and then whatever summit you’re chasing. The trail was in great shape, I was hiking on a golden carpet of larch needles almost the whole time. As I broke treeline on the north rubble slopes of the Wall of Jericho I got my first full-on views of Silvertip Mountain across the valley to the north and was reminded of my uncertainty regarding a route to its summit.

In 2025, while ascending Jut Mountain, I very briefly started a traverse to Silvertip from a col high above Dragon’s Drink. I was thinking that I could do both summits but quickly realized that the traverse to Silvertip from the col was not going to be nearly as straightforward as I’d hoped. I abandoned the idea and had a great day traversing to Jut. Ever since then I’ve wondered about the route. Was it as tricky as I’d first thought or would it all break down as the traverse to Jut had? There was only one way to find out! Or was there another option? Now that I was staring at the south face of Silvertip, I was seeing a very obvious rubble ramp rising from Dragon’s Drink meadows under the difficulties on the ridge and ending at easy scree slopes to the summit. Hmmm.

I topped out at Lake Merlin before starting a slow plod up to Dragon’s Drink, mostly convinced that I was going to give the rubble bench a try.

It was only looking more and more reasonable as I rounded the small tarns below Merlin Castle and started up scree slopes below it. I knew from many previous experiences (including this year on Icefall Mountain) that oftentimes there are goat paths on these benches, usually tucked right up against upper cliffs. I was willing to gamble with that premise and set off for the SW end of the bench above.

The weather was sublime as I started my rising traverse along the rubble bench high above Castilleja Lake and across from the approach to Lake Merlin. There was no wind here and the sun was delightfully warm as I followed bits of goat trail just where I thought it’d be. I love goats. 🐐

The trick was to tuck myself right against the upper cliffs without actually ascending too high. As soon as I stayed low, I regretted it and scrambled back up to the stone wall above. Views back over Lake Merlin and across to Wall of Jericho kept me distracted from the loose terrain as my route continued to work perfectly.

Soon enough I could see that the bench was topping out just as I’d hoped, past all the difficulties along the ridge above and at the exact spot where slopes led easily up to a still distant high point to the north.

Views were incredible over the Red Deer Lakes to the east and the Pipestone River valley to the north as I topped out at a set of small cairns. There was no register. Looking back along the ridge towards Jut Mountain I could see that it was indeed complex. If nothing else my easy ascent line saved time and height loss and I had zero regrets about following it.

I was almost 6 hours into my day and didn’t linger long before turning back down to the bench. The descent was easy and much quicker down to the Dragon’s Drink on loose terrain.

From Lake Merlin it was a familiar plod, one foot in front of the other, retracing my approach route.

I wasn’t surprised to see absolutely NOBODY as I passed the Skoki Lakes and ascended back up to Packer’s Pass. There were fresh prints in the snow under the pass, so I knew someone had been there while I was peakbagging.

The shores of Ptarmigan Lake were quiet as I made my way back over Boulder Pass, taking in scenes of a helicopter assisting the logging operation at the resort below.

I ran into my first group of 4 ascending to Boulder Pass quite late in the day - I wonder if they were going to the lodge?

The logging operation was silent as I hiked past it and continued down the road back to my lonely car at the trailhead. My round trip time of 11 hours was surprisingly reasonable considering the elevation and distances involved, but it was nice to finish in daylight.

This was one of my favorite late season hikes of all time. It’s quite rare to enjoy warm sun, dry trails and even dry summits this late in the season in an area like Skoki. Onsighting a route that proved not only direct, but also very straightforward was a huge bonus.