Garibaldi Provincial Park

Hello and welcome back!  The days are getting longer quick here in Vancouver, and the trees are blossoming like crazy.  This afternoon Bailey and I went for a nice little 7 mile power walk through the city to Chinatown to check out the markets, the Sun Yat-Sen Chinese garden and of course some weird ass food.  It was a great day aside from some off-putting mystery meat, and a dead raven in the meditation pond which we tried not to read too much into.  It feels like summer is right around the corner, and with it comes mountaineering season and the PMC!  I'm keeping it going out here with some heavy training, and getting brainstorming on some fundraising strategies.  My October donation deadline will be here before I know it, and I've got a long way to go to $4,500!  Speaking of which, please donate to my ride if you can!  Every penny of rider raised donations goes to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, and they need our help.  Now, let me tell you about a little trip about a couple of hours north of Vancouver to Garibaldi Provincial Park in the Whistler area. 

Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden, downtown Vancouver. 

As summer nears in British Columbia, the heavy winter snows slowly subside and alpine
mountaineering season begins.  The backcountry ski season however is winding down, so I figured on a ski trip to check out some mountaineering objectives in Garibaldi Provincial Park. I met my buddy Dave in North Vancouver, and drove north on the Sea-to-Sky Highway up the fjords of Howe Sound.  A couple of hours up the road brings you into the heart of the southern BC Coast Ranges, and to the Whistler Blackcomb resort area. We would not be going to the fancy bars and groomed slopes of Whistler, but rather into the rugged and glaciated terrain of Mt. Garibaldi and its neighboring high peaks.  Garibaldi is the northernmost Cascade volcano, a Canadian brother of Rainier, Shasta, Hood and others further south.  Just like most of the other Cascades Garibaldi could still become active at pretty much any time.  10,000 year old lava flows, still clearly visible on satellite images, are a stark reminder of the danger that lurks not 40 miles from the 2.5 million residents of greater Vancouver.   For now however, Garibaldi Provincial Park is another of the recreation meccas of the Vancouver area. Less than two hours out of town, this area offers glaciated peaks, alpine lakes and miles upon miles of hiking trails and climbing routes.  I had never been to the park before so we would not be bagging any summits, but rather skiing up to the beginnings of the glacier fields to have a look at the bigger mountains and what the summer climbing season here would have to offer. After a sketchy drive from the highway to the trailhead, we threw on our skis and made our way up a logging road into the alpine. 

Alpine meadows in Garibaldi Provincial Park. 

 We were heading up the south slope of Round Mountain, a smaller neighbor of Garibaldi's and a popular route into the higher peaks.  Six miles from the trailhead is the Elfin Lakes shelter, a beautiful alpine cabin and a southern jump off point for attempts on Garibaldi.  We hoped to get as close to Elfin as we could in a single afternoon, the weather and snow were both solid and things were looking good as we neared treeline.  After a nice little pump up the logging road we took a break at the Red Heather warming hut before breaking out of the trees onto the ridge-top.  As we sat in the sun at Red Heather, stoke was building for what looked to be a great afternoon ahead.  We finished our snacks and as I went to step back into my skis, the frame of my right binding broke in half in my hand. 

I was much more pissed about this than it looks. 

 After some disbelief and a few remarks from Dave of 'I've never even heard of that happening!', I resolved that this was a major bummer, and my day was pretty much over.  Originally enraged that the steel frame of a popular and well-known binding would simply snap in half, I later reasoned that these puppies were already on their third lifetime and were mounted on bright pink skis fresh out of 1991.  I suppose 25 years is a perfectly reasonable life expectancy for a piece of equipment.  Thankfully the route we were on was a popular one, and the trail was packed well enough for me to follow Dave up to the ridge-top for some views of the high mountains. 

Dave and Garibaldi (8,700').

The Tantalus Range, and the rad ski slopes that were not. 

Your correspondent and Mt. Garibaldi (8,700').

After a short hike up to the ridge we took a few photos and scoped out some routes on Garibaldi, and I got a good look at the great ski terrain that I would not be skiing.  Back at Red Heather, I stared at my bindings for awhile trying to come up with a way that I could avoid walking my skis down a logging road that would be perfect learning ground for me.  Gradually, I arrived at the same conclusion that is invariably arrived at in these backcountry repair situations: duct tape.

Genius. 

  After cleverly taping my skis back together, we headed down the logging road with some success.  If I put too much weight onto my right leg the tape would catch the snow and throw me to the ground, and every now and again the ski would fall off altogether, but I eventually made it down to the trailhead in mostly one piece.   Despite some setbacks, we had a great day in the sun and snow, and I got in about 10 good miles and 2,000 feet of elevation. 

Hungry Whiskey Jacks eyeing our snacks at Red Heather meadows. 

That's it for now, time to drag my ass to the gym for some stair-stepper action.  Thanks for reading, please check out my PMC profile and donate if you can!  Join me next time, when I'll be skiing half way up Washington's third highest mountain before realizing that I don't have the skills to ski down!  See you then! 

Coquihalla Summit

Hello and thanks for stopping by!  Here we are, about four months out from the PMC and I feel pretty dang optimistic about my odds of not being killed by this bike ride. I have continued to get to the gym 3 or 4 times a week for weight training and conditioning on the bike, stair-climber and elliptical, and almost every weekend I throw on a heavy pack and haul myself up a steep snowy incline.  And of course the fitness fun to be had right here in Vancouver, I have just now returned from an 8 mile power walk through downtown, Stanley Park and Sunset Beach.  That's the training report in a nutshell, please don't forget to donate if you can, and thank you!  This time I'll be telling you another trip with the UBC outdoor club for some backcountry skiing in south central British Columbia.

Coquihalla Pass from Iago Peak (5,700') Canadian Cascades.

Skiing is a big part of mountain climbing, necessary for travel across long glaciers and snowfields.  It was also the last discipline of mountaineering that I had yet to start learning and I figured it was high time, so I bought a cheap second hand ski setup and looked for the tamest trip I could find on the outdoor club message boards.  I signed up for a 'beginner' ski touring trip to the Coquihalla Summit area east of Vancouver, and quickly found the term beginner to be highly subjective.  

I picked up a few people in the neighborhood and we headed east on the Trans-Canada Highway towards Hope, BC.  After following the Fraser River out of the city, we headed up into the Canadian Cascade mountains, the northernmost extension of the Pacific Cascade Range which continues south as far as California.  We stopped at the Coquihalla Summit recreation area, a network of trails surrounding the high point of the Coquihalla Highway.  We had clearing weather and stable avalanche conditions, so I was looking forward to a good time. We met some other club members at the trailhead and headed off into the backcountry.  

Needle Peak (7,000') from low on Iago Peak
Coquihalla Pass, B.C.

I did the best I could to locate the other ill-experienced chumps of the group, as this would be my third time skiing and I was looking to shred as little gnar as possible.  Fortunately there is good ski terrain for a variety of skill levels in this area so we had no problem finding a reasonable objective.  We settled on Iago Peak (5,700'), a nice round little number that would give us a tough ski up and some mellow beginner slopes on the way down.  

Skiing up open slopes on Iago

Jens having a ball on Iago.

Jens and Rue cut tracks through fresh powder. 

Jens and Rue nearing the summit with Coquihalla Pass as a backdrop. 

The weather improved as we made our way up the forested ridges of Iago, by the time we reached treeline we had a bluebird afternoon and perfect views of the Cascades surrounding us.  We had done about 5 miles and 2,000 feet of elevation gain, and including the standard routefinding debacles it had taken us 4 hours.  No matter how tired I am I always get a second (or third) wind when the trees finally clear and I am in the alpine zone once again.  After a granola bar and some summit snapshots we dug a test pit in the snow to assess avalanche risk on the slope we would be skiing on.  While our beginner slope wasn't quite steep enough for a dangerous avalanche, it is best to get into these habits early on. 

Perfect powder on the summit slopes of Iago Peak.

A group of hikers plans their next move on Iago Peak. 

 After checking out the snowpack and choosing a route I nervously bent my knees and shoved off.  It didn't go half bad considering I had no business skiing powder in the British Columbia backcountry.  I fell on almost every turn and there was a lot of flopping around in the snow like a dying salmon wearing skis, but I made it down the slope with a smile on my face.  The five miles back to the trailhead were a mix of touring up hills and then riding them back down again, a downside to which is having to switch ones skis back and forth between travel and downhill modes. By the time we were riding the last mile of logging road back down to the highway I was getting pretty comfortable, the great snow and weather conditions had lulled me into a rather pleasant false confidence.  After another great day in the mountains, I cooked up some noodles and tucked myself into the trunk of my Kia Sportage for the night.

Some skiers heading a steep and icy logging road on Zoa Peak. 

The next day would turn out very differently.  Snow, fog and cold temperatures were the order of the day, and the sunshine the day before had melted the top of the snowpack which was now frozen solid.  We were on nearby Zoa Peak (6,100'), which was no more technical than Iago but that icy crust made all the difference.  The ski up was mostly on a long steep logging road, which was a great workout on the way up and a nightmare on the way down.  The rest was on a tight trail through small alpine trees which was challenging on way up and again, was just horrific to try to ski.  To say I was in over my head would be a gross understatement.  The trip down was a combination of grabbing at trees as they sped by to try to slow myself down (terrible idea), taking my skis off and sitting on them like some sort of a makeshift sled (doesn't work) and cursing Jesus (mixed results).  Eventually I got sensible, strapped my skis to my pack and sulked my way back to the trailhead.  If nothing else I learned some hard lessons and got in 4 miles of tough uphill workout.  Also I'm not dead so that's rad.  The weekend had a little more drama in store for us, a few members of our party had gotten lost in the summit fog and ended up some distance down the highway after bushwacking their way back to the road.  We found them, and I drove us back to the city with sore legs and 16 tough miles under my belt. 

That's all for now folks, join me next time on Mt. Garibaldi for some more adventures.  If you have a minute visit dana-farber.org for the latest news on cancer research progress in Boston, and please donate to my ride HERE! if you can.  Thanks and see you next time!