Johnston Canyon

Johnston Canyon in July is the busiest trail in Banff National Park — a fact that surprises nobody who has been there in July. The catwalks, bolted directly into the limestone walls above the canyon floor, carry a continuous flow of people, cameras, strollers, tour groups in matching shirts, and the particular ambient noise of a popular attraction operating at capacity. I made the mistake of going in August on my first visit and spent the whole walk feeling like I was in a queue that was also a waterfall. I went back in October. The difference was not incremental.

The canyon is genuinely beautiful regardless of timing — a slot carved by Johnston Creek through layers of pale limestone over thousands of years, the walls rising sheer and close on both sides until at the narrowest points the sky above is a thin strip of grey. The catwalks are engineering feats of a particular kind: bolted into the wall face and cantilevered above the water, they allow you to travel through the gorge without touching the canyon floor, which is mostly a river. The roar of the creek rises from below through the grating, and in several places the walls are so narrow that the water drops directly onto the path. You will get wet. The mist is part of the point.

The Lower Falls appear after about a kilometre: a pair of waterfalls dropping into a green pool through an opening in the limestone that the water has carved into something like a natural portal. The Upper Falls, another two kilometres beyond, drop higher and straighter, the water white against grey rock in a place where the canyon walls are so close you feel the vibration through your feet. The Inkpots — a series of mineral springs near the canyon’s upper end that maintain a constant temperature and turn vivid blue-green — require more distance but reward it: the springs are genuinely strange-looking, pools of colour sitting at the surface of the meadow as if placed there.

In October the catwalks echo. My footsteps were audible. The birds — dippers, mainly, working the current below — were audible. The water, which in summer is a backdrop to the noise of people, revealed itself as the central character it actually is: a specific sound, cold and variable, the creek running high from the autumn rains and moving through the canyon with a kind of impatience. I took twice as long as I’d planned. Nobody was waiting for the catwalk.

When to go: October is the answer, without qualification. September is good too — the crowds have thinned and the gold of the aspens in the surrounding forest adds colour to the canyon walls. Winter visits are possible and offer ice formations inside the canyon, but the catwalks can be icy and require traction devices. Avoid June through August if you have any flexibility whatsoever.