8 Lesser-Known Larch Hikes in Kananaskis, By Locals

1. Sparrowhawk Tarns

I’d heard about Sparrowhawk Tarns for years but finally went up last fall. While the crowds piled into Pocaterra and Chester, I pulled into the Sparrowhawk Day Use lot on the Smith-Dorrien and started up the trail across the road.

The hike wastes no time climbing, straight through thick forest with a couple of steep, rubbly sections. Then suddenly you’re above the trees, standing in a cirque surrounded by Sparrowhawk, Bogart, and Red Peak. That’s where the larches show up, scattered across the slopes and glowing around the tarns. I wandered from tarn to tarn, finding ridges with big views over Spray Valley, and only saw a handful of people all day.

It’s about 11 km return with 700 m of gain, and it took me just under five hours because I lingered. If you want a larch hike that still feels like a secret, this is it.

2. Rummel Ridge and the little valley behind it

I’d hiked to Rummel Lake many times before, but one year I decided to push higher. The trail past the lake steepens quickly, weaving up through trees until you break onto the ridge. Spray Lakes spreads out behind you, and that’s where the larches start showing, scattered across the slope.

The real surprise is dropping slightly into the little valley on the far side. It feels hidden, with dense patches of gold tucked between ridges and Galatea looming overhead. I spent nearly an hour wandering through it and never saw another person.

The outing is about 11 km return with 650 m of gain, and it took me around five hours with plenty of photo stops. If you’ve only ever stopped at Rummel Lake, keep climbing. The ridge and valley are where the real larch show begins.

3. Commonwealth Ridge above Commonwealth Lake

The first thing that hits you about Commonwealth isn’t the ridge at all, it’s the lake. Tucked under the sharp face of Commonwealth Peak, it’s one of those turquoise pools you could sit beside all day. But the real reward is climbing higher.

The slope above the lake is a grind, straight up, with little let-up. But the hillside is dotted with larches that seem to glow brighter the higher you climb. I remember stopping halfway up, legs burning, and realizing the entire slope was speckled gold.

When you reach the ridge, the view is a shock: Spray Lakes stretching out in one direction, the Commonwealth skyline in the other, and clusters of larches spilling down the valley below. It felt like standing in a private amphitheatre, because no one else had made the climb past the lake that day.

The stats: about 11 km return, 750 m of gain, and five hours round trip if you give yourself time at the top. Commonwealth Ridge isn’t a casual stroll. It makes you earn it, but that’s exactly why it stays quiet when everywhere else is packed.

4. Tryst Lake

What makes Tryst different is its unpredictability. The lake itself can shrink to a puddle some years, but the larches around it always put on a show. The trail climbs steeply through forest right from the road, gaining fast before the trees thin and the basin opens.

The first time I went up in late September, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Then I stepped into a high-walled amphitheatre where the larches circled the basin like a crown. Even with low water, the scene was incredible.

It’s a short outing compared to most larch hikes: about 6 km return, 400 m of gain, and 3 hours round trip if you take your time. The steepness keeps it honest, but that’s also what filters out the crowds. I spent an afternoon up there and saw just two other hikers, even though nearby trails were packed.

If you want big larch color without committing to a full-day grind, Tryst Lake delivers.

5. Buller Creek (Pass) Peak

Most people stop at Buller Pass, but the real reward comes if you keep climbing toward Buller Peak. The trail winds steadily up the valley, following Buller Creek through forest before opening into meadows dotted with larches. Even before you reach the pass, the color spreads out across the slopes in golden pockets.

From the pass itself, the view is already worth the effort: larches spilling down the valley and peaks stacked on every side. But pushing higher toward Buller Peak changes the perspective completely. Looking back, you can see the larch-filled basins below and Ribbon Lake shining far off in the distance. It feels like you’ve stepped into another world, and the extra climb means you’re unlikely to share it with many others.

The full outing runs about 13 km return with 900 m of gain, and it took me around five and a half hours including time at the top. The climb above the pass is scrambly in places, but the solitude and views are worth every step.

6. Odlum Ridge

What pulled me toward Odlum Ridge was its reputation for solitude. While Highwood Pass gets packed in September, this ridge sits quietly on the other side of the valley. The approach starts off mellow, winding through forest before opening onto grassy slopes. From there the trail tilts upward, climbing steadily until the ridge comes into view.

The larches are scattered in wide swaths across the upper slopes and spill down toward Running Rain Creek. I remember pausing on the climb and realizing the entire hillside was glowing, with the valley bottom a mix of gold and shadow. Once on the ridge, the view is pure Kananaskis; rolling ridges lined with larches, nothing but peaks in every direction, and not another hiker in sight.

It’s about 12 km return with 650 m of gain, and it took me roughly five hours at an easy pace. The wind can whip up fast on top, so layers are a must.

7. Rae Lake

Much of the early trail to Rae Lake follows Elbow Lake through trees and wide, multi-use paths. After passing Elbow Lake, you take a cairned turn, then climb through forest again, though the trees begin to thin out, opening into meadows and grassy hillsides. As you rise toward the basin, ridges and larches begin appearing more frequently, and by the lake you’re in mostly open terrain with the peaks overhead.

The hike is about 17 km return with ~430-450 m of gain (though depending on how far you wander or which turnoffs you take, some GPS tracks show slightly more). It took me around 5½ hours moving at a relaxed pace. Late September is peak, but the green/gold contrast even a week early is worth the trip.

8. South Mist Hills Loop

The South Mist Hills Loop is another quieter alternative to the circus at Highwood Pass. The trail leaves from Mist Creek and climbs steadily through forest before opening into meadows and ridge terrain. Once you gain the saddle between Mist Ridge and the South Hills, it’s a short, steep push onto the east summit. From there the loop continues across open ridgeline and gradually circles back down to the valley.

Larches start showing up as you climb, scattered across the flanks and clustered on the ridges. From the ridge, the views stretch across the Mist and Highwood ranges, with little chance of company. I only crossed paths with a couple of groups all day.

The loop is about 12–13 km with 625 m of gain, and I’d budget 4–5 hours depending on how much time you spend on the summit. The ridgeline is wide and breezy, so bring layers, but the solitude and scenery make it one of the best “hidden” larch hikes in the area.