Over 30 years ago, I moved to a small town nestled in the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains. Never in my wildest dreams did I predict the amazing adventures I would have, and part of this was thanks to the Willmore Wilderness Park, which I found by accident.
Now, please don’t think I discovered it or stumbled upon something new—it wasn’t like that. The park found me, and what it gave me in return, I will be forever grateful for. On that note, let me tell you a story about myself and other women like me: The Women of the Willmore.
Let me set the scene. “The Willmore was designated a Wilderness Provincial Park in 1959 and covered 5,566 km². In 1963, and again in 1965, the park’s area was reduced to its current size of 4,568 km²” (AWA, 2025). Why it was reduced, I don’t know. But what I do know is, if I had my way, it wouldn’t have been touched—ever. Willmore Wilderness Park is much more than just land to me and so many others. It has provided countless hours of adventure and wonder, leading to epic trips and memories to last a lifetime. I would like to share some of the stories of the Women of the Willmore.
I’ll start with my friend, Terra Rasmussen. Terra moved to Grande Cache about 3 years ago. In her late thirties, Terra had already gathered a wealth of stories from the Willmore, particularly from the Rock Lake side. Her father, Ray Rasmussen, spent countless hours hiking in the Rock Lake area. She tells stories of him getting dropped off with horses and spending up to three weeks at a time there. I love those stories. I also love the pictures she shares of his adventures. Since moving to Grande Cache, Terra has shared many of her own stories and adventures. And that’s where my story about Terra begins.
Terra is a rock star. I mean, she hikes and runs 40 km in a day if that’s the plan. I wish I’d met her ten years ago when I was running; I would have joined her. Honestly, I’m in awe of her motivation. She loves the park! All she wants to do is be there. She might run, she might hike, but her goal is simply to explore. I love talking trails and maps with her. We’ve gone on a couple of hikes together, and they’ve been great. Our first trip was to the Big Berland. It’s not often I get to hike with such a competent woman who navigates the way she does, and I have to tell you, I completely enjoyed it!
She likes CalTopo and maps out her routes in advance. She follows ‘trace trails,’ which I call animal trails—same thing—and moves along the general direction of her route. She’s competent, well thought out, and I love it. She makes good decisions and really thinks before she attempts anything. I’d recommend following her on her Facebook page Willmore Wilderness Park Hiking. She has epic adventures, and it’s hard not to be amazed. The more I watch and follow her, the more I want to go, see, and do. Terra embodies everything that The Women of the Willmore stand for. I love seeing a woman so comfortable in the bush like she is. There aren’t many like her.
This brings me to the next woman I’d like to talk about: my daughter, Emily. Emily is a tough chick—honestly, that’s the best way to describe her. She can dress up and be girly, but she also loves being hands-on with the land, her horse, and her dog, Dolly. Emily started spending time with horses when she was about fourteen years old. We didn’t have any ourselves so, I asked a local outfitter and his wife if she could come down and brush their horses. It was a pivotal moment in her life when she met Curtis Hallock. I still remember one Friday night when she asked me if she could take the car and go out. I assumed she wanted to go to a party, but no—she had been invited to castrate horses with Curtis and his nephews. I still shake my head at that request.
Her love of horses eventually turned into a job as a wrangler. Emily worked for Curtis and a couple of other outfitters over the years. She loved it. It was all she wanted to do, and despite other job opportunities that came across her path, she always ended up returning to wrangling in the park. Each time she came home, she had another story. One time,on a trip with Curtis, she woke up to a foot of snow in early October. Another time, she worked for Kip Kelley, and they spent a few nights sleeping under a tarp in the pouring rain. One of the scariest moments was when she got bucked off and unknowingly cracked a couple of ribs. She knew she was hurt but didn’t want to wreck the hunt, so she pushed through it. She loaded and packed the horses and rode back 35 km into town. How she managed to lift saddles and pack everything up for the hunters, I don’t know. But she did it.
She also has stories of riding with Basil and Sue Leonard into the Jackpine area, crossing the unpredictable Muddy Water. She’d be gone from a couple of nights, up to a few weeks. Oh, the places she went—her pictures were astounding. But not all stories are heroic and valiant, and neither is Emily’s. One May long weekend, she was working for Basil and Sue, who run the Willmore Wilderness Foundation. They had gone up to Kvass Flats for a staff retreat of sorts. The plan was to spend some time before their busy season and enjoy the weekend. Emily and her partner, along with a few others, spent the morning picking morels. Emily had walked over and started chopping wood for the fire and as she put the axe in the stump for the next person, her eyes fluttered and she dropped to the ground. Emily died on May 19, 2024, in Kvass Flats, from cardiomyopathy, at age 26.
Now it’s my turn. I had no idea the adventures and experiences the mountains would offer. At first, I lived in the mountains as just a backdrop, and it wasn’t until later, inspired by my 8-year-old son to start hiking, that is what changed my life . Over time, I became quite involved with the park through running and hiking. It became a place to relax and unwind. I could test my knowledge and learn new skills. I’d be lying if I told you all my adventures went off without a hitch. There have been more than a few times when I count my lucky stars. But over time, I’ve learned a lot about myself as a result of my time in the Willmore Wilderness Park. I’ve also had the pleasure of meeting many people I might not have met otherwise: outfitters, wranglers, hikers, runners…good people, all out adventuring in the Willmore.
You see, the Willmore promises nothing for anyone, but everything for those who choose to step inside its boundaries. The lessons I’ve learned, the stories I’ve amassed—too many to count—some filled with laughter, and some with tears. I always say there’s no crying in hiking, but sometimes, there is—just sometimes. And with that, I’d like to raise a glass to all the women I’ve met on the trails—on horseback or on foot—you are the Women of the Willmore.
References
Alberta Wilderness Association, albertawilderness.ca/issues/wildlands/areas-of-concern/willmore-wilderness/. Accessed 10 Feb. 2025.
