On September the 26th, almost a month to the day I made the trek back to Lake Annette for an encore excursion with Brent, my brother Chad and two different friends Graham and Katrina. I think I was partially seeking redemption in the eyes of the lake and mountain, and, for some perverse reason part wanting to experience the whole thing over again. This time though, due much colder weather and my learning's from the previous incident, I had a pack that weighed nearly 40lbs and contained everything that I wished I had on the trip before (warm clothes, flash light, camera, food, knife, dog etc). The bear warnings were the same as before but this time I made the mistake of purchasing the backcountry camping passes which were a complete waste of money. The park employee scoffed at my conviction of camping in the now frigid wilderness without a tent and then when I foolishly told her my intended destination she totally came unglued. I don't think there was a person in the information center that didn�t cock an ear towards my kiosk as the public "servant" began chastising me in tones that only Caesar Milan and his fine furry friends could perceive. I quickly backpedalled however and suggested that I didn't care where I camped and let her think she was choosing my campsite (Taylor Lake) for me. I hurriedly made the $30 donation and was off without further incident hoping again that if I was caught camping at least this time it would look like I tried to comply with the law.

This trip had a much different character than the previous one, light hearted would be the best word to describe it. The weather was atrocious and bizarre though, typical of the Canadian Rockies where one minute we would be basking in warm sunlight, the next sheltering our faces from horizontal projectile sleet. I once heard that asshole David Suzuki say that the wind was natures bristlebroom. This might be true but that afternoon it felt more like a Taliban insurgent spraying our position with round after punishing round from a great big AK47 in the sky.

Undeterred by the weather however, we men did manage a brief swim in Lake Annette which was a blitzkrieg to the senses. The night was horribly cold, in the morning there was a thin sheet of ice around the edges of the lake. The tube of the portable water filter pump I was using froze solid after 5 minutes of idleness. Again, three of us did not have a tent and took up residence for the night under a regular tarp which protected us only from precipitation and served as a receptacle for campfire smoke as the wind blew it directly under the ceiling and into the crook of the thing. My +4 degree sleeping bag was a poor defense against the freezing temperatures but I had nothing to complain about as Brent had only layered clothing and lay shivering next to me for the better part of the night. I woke often to the sound of his clacking teeth. We all made it though, and with the exception of loosing Grahams non-obedient golden retriever and abandoning it to the mountain following a fruitless five hour search (after which it was returned to us by hikers who met us in the parking lot thanks to a note we left) the trip was without incident.

Even though we managed to evade the park rangers once more next year when I camp in the mountains it will be well outside the national park boundaries where, if there are bears, ignorance will be bliss.