A summer of summits

Casandra Karpiak photo

We didn’t call it hiking back then. We just called it “going for a walk.”

My dad and I hiked a lot together in his final years, though I’m not sure he’d have used that word either. He had dementia, and toward the end, the world became a quieter, blurrier place for him. But outside — out on the sun-baked slopes of Battle Bluff, along the dusty trail to Gibraltar Rock, or following game tracks through the grasslands near Lac du Bois — something in him always sparked.

He didn’t always remember the names, but he remembered how it felt to move uphill, to breathe the dry sage-scented air, to sit at the top and say, simply, “Look at that.” Sometimes, I wonder if those trails held the last pieces of clarity for him—unspoken but deeply known.

For the Kamloops Hiking Club, this is just one day among hundreds. In 2024, they logged more than 200 organized hikes, from quiet spring walks among the balsamroot to challenging summit scrambles across the Interior Plateau. With snowmelt revealing high-elevation routes, summer marks a new chapter — longer days, longer trails, and the chance to climb into the mountains.

“Kamloops has opportunities to hike and explore in every direction,” said Doug Smith, past President of the Kamloops Hiking Club. “The City is located at the junction of two major rivers, the North Thompson River from the mountains to the north and the South Thompson River from the mountains to the east. Together, they meet in the middle of the city and become the Thompson River, flowing into Kamloops Lake on the west. Rising above the valley are grasslands, sloping up toward the forested areas in the mountains and the Interior Plateau.”

There are routes for every kind of hiker, from short loops in Peterson Creek to full-day destination hikes to remote summits. “From Kamloops, we can drive in all four directions to find more hiking trails, to Wells Gray Park in the north, the Shuswap to the east, the Nicola forests to the south, and the arid lands to the west. We can hike a different trail every day of the year.”

The Kamloops Hiking Club serves as both compass and community for local hikers. With multiple outings each week — ranging from quick 90-minute loops to full-day treks — its leaders offer a wealth of local knowledge.

“A few hike leaders know hundreds of routes, many of which are not found in books or websites,” says Smith. “The term ‘hiking trails’ is usually understood to be a designated trail, complete with parking and signs. Most of the ‘trails’ in the Kamloops area are routes — a combination of double tracks historically cleared for cattle grazing access, forestry, mining, or recreation, single tracks used by hikers, bikers, dog walkers, runners, cross-country skiers, and some other users, game trails and cattle trails, and some faint tracks, all combined to create loop routes or out-and-back routes, often to viewpoints.”

One such route leads into Trophy Mountain in Wells Gray Provincial Park, a seasonal favorite.

“Drive north to Wells Gray Park, then up the bumpy Trophy Mountain road to the trailhead,” Smith explained. “Hike in a group through the forest and into the alpine meadows to enjoy the wildflower display and the views … continue up past the plateau of the lakes, climb the summit ridge to the rim, and then up the rocky summit approach to the top of one of the seven Trophy Mountain peaks.”

At the top, Smith says, “With binoculars or a long lens, we can see all the way to the Premier Range and Mt. Robson, and other ranges like the Monashees and Cariboo Ranges … a long day, but a rewarding one.”

Already this season, the club has hiked through Painted Bluffs, a unique geological area, accessed by a rugged trail, the cascading Stein River Valley, the dramatic falls at Albas, and the wildflower-strewn slopes of Neskonlith Meadows.

“Each week brings new routes with new experiences,” said Smith.

For those who hike solo or outside of organized trips, Smith said there’s value in both. “Hiking provides individuals with good exercise, time in the outdoors, and exploration of the natural world around us. We can do this alone, and that is a good choice for part of the time, but for other days, it is beneficial to join a small group with a knowledgeable leader to find new places and share new views of the hills and forests that surround us.”

But not every hike needs to be an expedition. Hikers join for all kinds of reasons — fitness, photography, solitude, social connection — but many find something they didn’t expect: community. Conversations unfold naturally between switchbacks, friendships form over lunch at the summit, and sometimes, a single shared view becomes a memory that ties people together.

The first time I hiked Battle Bluff was with my dad. His legs began weakening, and the trail challenged him, but he never once complained. He made it all the way to the summit, steady and determined. I remember feeling proud — awestruck, really — but I also found myself wondering how many more hikes we’d share. We were exploring new ground together, but already I was grieving the quiet companionship I knew I’d one day miss.

There was something sacred about those hikes. They weren’t about distance or elevation. They were about presence, walking side by side without needing to say much, just listening to the wind move through the grass or watching the light shift across the valley.

Some of the most meaningful routes are the ones that wind close to home. For me, it’s the trail up Kenna Cartwright, where the Thompson River curves like a ribbon below, or the path through Rosehill’s ponderosa pines, where the afternoon sun slices through dust.

Smith calls these “Aha” hikes — the ones that give you a moment: a view, a memory, a stillness. I think about that often. Hiking allowed me to meet my dad in the middle of his memory loss. The land held him when words failed. And even now, a certain bend in the trail can bring him back.

Kamloops isn’t just a hiking destination, it’s a landscape of quiet connection to the earth, to the people we share it with, and to the versions of ourselves that exist only out there, on the trail.

This summer, maybe you’ll find your own version of that. Maybe it starts with a walk.