Rearguard Falls
I started with Rearguard Falls, because I missed the parking lot of Lost Lake Trai. Well, so I followed the path down to the falls themselves. The descent led me through the forest until I stood at the viewing platform, where the water of the Fraser River thundered over the rocks with enormous force. The spray of the falls rose into the air, and I could feel the power of the river in every sound and movement.
After admiring the view for a while, I continued on the other side of the trail, descending all the way down to the riverbank. Standing there so close to the Fraser gave me a strong impression of the river’s character: fast, wild, and relentless.
Lost Lake Trail
Now, I turned back towards the Lost Lake Trail. I began the steady uphill section of the trail. For the first five hundred meters it climbed consistently, but afterwards the path became easy, lying mostly flat or gently descending. This made the walk pleasant and relaxing, and soon I reached the lake itself.
As I circled the shore, the lake mirrored the sky—but beyond its surface, the mountains stole the show.
To the west, Mount Robson towered above all else—the highest peak in the Canadian Rockies at 3,954 m. Its glacier-chiseled north face loomed with striking dominance, while the southern slopes softly receded toward the horizon. Wikipedia
Beside it, I could make out Resplendent Mountain, its jagged ridges rising sharply from the valley and anchored by glaciers flowing into the valleys below. These ranges—part of the greater Rainbow and Park Ranges—loomed in majestic solidarity. AllTrails.com
To the north of the visitor centre, Cinnamon Peak stood out with its distinctive warm-hued rock—a striking contrast against the cooler tones of surrounding peaks. Just beyond it, Overlander Mountain rose in silent grandeur, its slopes descending steeply toward the Fraser River valley. Wikipedia+1
Continuing along the lakeshore, my gaze shifted to Mount Anne-Alice, positioned near the Continental Divide behind Berg Lake, its alpine form softened by distance yet no less impressive. Wikipedia
On my way down, almost at the parking, I met three groups—around ten souls in all—felt like being gently reminded that I wasn’t entirely alone in this wildness. Their friendly nods and parallel paths affirmed the shared reverence for this place.
Mount Robson Corridor & Overlander Falls
My drive to Mount Robson Provincial Park unfolded like a slow reveal. I stopped twice just to admire and photograph Mount Robson’s towering south face, visible from the corridor, a classic shot captured casually but perfectly framed.
At the Overlander Falls trailhead, the short walk down unveiled another beautiful cascade—wispy, clear, and framed by lush greenery. The Fraser spilled over rocks with gentle force, a contrast to the thunderous roar of Rearguard.
Then the Overlander Falls Trail drew me along the Fraser: sometimes compressed into a narrow, tumbling stream cutting through rock; other times, it expanded into a broad, peaceful ribbon of water. The variation in the river’s temperament was remarkable in such a short stretch.
At the bridge, I paused to photograph, then retraced my steps. It felt fitting—like ending a chapter before turning to the next one.
Final Evening & Campfire Reflections
Driving toward Jasper, I had to stop again for yet another stunning scene—likely framed by lodgepole pines or plateau edges, I captured mountains that seemed to guard the horizon.
That exact moment was mirrored at Lucerne Campground. Once again, I stopped to photograph—not just the mountains, but perhaps the reflections on water, or the soft haze of the evening light.
In Jasper, I treated myself to an ice cream—an indulgence amid the modern bustle of tourism which, as you noted, the town never quite won you over. But soon enough, I escaped to Whistlers Campground. It was a balm: undisturbed mountain views in every direction, the silence resting in well-earned solitude.
That night, cooking sausages over the propane stove, sipping a beer under a canopy of stars—and those silhouettes of rugged peaks—felt like the perfect punctuation to a day of exploration and quiet wonder.