The 11km hike through Johnston Canyon to the Ink Pots

The need to stretch our legs, to breathe in the crisp mountain air, was pressing. We had been on the road, taking in the vast expanses of the Canadian Rockies, but the confines of our car were starting to feel limiting. Too much seeing, not enough being. So, we decided to embark on a hike.

Johnston Canyon, a marvel of nature sculpted by the unyielding flow of water, was our chosen terrain. Its inviting trails, broken into manageable segments, made it the perfect choice. Not all paths were open, as the season had only just begun to shake off the chill of winter. Some trails stretched far into the horizon, 20-30km, enticing for another day, perhaps.

We set our sights on the Ink Pots. The name itself was intriguing, hinting at a mystery waiting to be unraveled. The trail was a little over 10km round trip, a challenge but not insurmountable. It was a conscious decision, a step outside our comfort zone, a determination to embrace the journey rather than rush to the destination.

Our path was adorned with waterfalls, each more breathtaking than the last. The constant rush of water, the spray, the cool mist, they became our companions, guiding us along. They whispered stories of the ages, of time and persistence, and we listened.

Reaching the Ink Pots was an achievement, a milestone. The sight of the deep blue, crystal clear waters was a reward in itself. They were as the legends had described, pools of liquid sapphire nestled amidst nature's green. We had brought packed sandwiches for lunch, and as we sat there, feasting not just on our simple meal but also on the beauty that surrounded us, it felt like a moment suspended in time. The journey was challenging, yes, but the destination was worth every step.
​
And then, we turned back. The return journey was just as enchanting, the path familiar yet new when seen from the opposite direction. The weather held up, perfect for a day outdoors. The sun was warm, the breeze cool, and our hearts full.