Sunday, October 14, 2007
Guinn's Pass
There was a moment this morning, when I first went outside, that it was simply a good time to be alive. The sky was incredibly clear, Venus was brilliant and high in the east, Mars orangely overhead. Stars I hadn't noticed for ages seemed to be every where, even with the city light pollution. After my usual coffee and paper, I walked along Cresent Road and studied the western horizon. Much of the snow that had fallen in the last few weeks seemed to have evaporated.
I went home and loaded the backpack. I originally considered Gusty Peak, but decided instead to try the south peak of Mount Kidd again, this time by Guinn's Pass. Not sure what to expect temperature wise, I layered on clothes, and when I got to the Galatea Parking lot, it seemed justified. The sun had just reached down into that part of the valley, and it hadn't warmed things yet.
The way was humid and cool, and the mud on the trail was mixed with leaves. It was pretty straight forward, hike-wise, and the sun climbed above the smaller peak on the south side of the valley. The smell was incredible - spicey and pungent. The odd cranky squirrel would occasionally chatter at something.
I crossed the sixth bridge, and an old avalanche run, rocks peppered with small trees and bushes. Around this point the trail is much higher than the creek, which flows out from a gash in the rock about seventy metres below. Unseen in that gash is a waterfall that has taken on a bit of basso thunder. I think there is a lot of snow melting up there, and feeding the creek, so there's a lot more water coming down.
I passed the trail I'd taken last time, and someone had since built a small cairn to mark it. The hidden one was still there, behind the tree and past the dead fall. It didn't appeal to me today. I've been battling a cold for the last week. I felt quite good when I started out this morning, but I was soon feeling the lack of energy that accompanies a cold. I wasn't moving all that fast, and the steepness of that trail seemed too much to consider.
After the ninth bridge, snow had accumulated on the path, well packed by the traffic. I think there are still campers at Lillian Lake. The trail steepened and was a little icy, but it didn't take long to reach the junction.
I took the trail right to another bridge across the creek, and then was following a long broad avalanche run. The trail rose gently along a grassy gully, walled in by trees, I would guess Douglas Fir, although there's a lot of white pine out there too. This is old growth. These trees are huge.
The view across the valley wasn't much since the trees blocked much of it. However, with altitude, it began to improve. The Fortress rose behind the ridge opposite, and I wondered if anyone was up there today. I shed my coat and plunged up the run.
A creek flowed intermittently along the bottom of the gully, disappearing into the rocks at times to pop out several metres downslope. Sometimes it was a big rushing stream, sometimes a trickle.
About 2000 metres, the exertion was too much for the clothes I had on. I found a reasonably flat rock and stripped off the longies. Of course I had to take the hikers off, and one slid off the rock and bounced down a couple of metres along the stream bed, wedging between a couple of rocks that jutted out of the water. I gingerly picked my way barefoot down to it, trying to keep my feet out of the water and hoping the shoe wasn't being soaked.
I got lucky. It was just a little damp at the little toe. I dressed and continued. Fifty metres higher, the trail was becoming snow filled, and yesterday's hikers had left tracks that lead to the right across the rock fall to a trail that switched back that way. From here I picked my way along the edge of the snow and the trail, as it rose into scrubby forest. It crossed the avalanche run and traversed the slope westward.
Eventually it turned again, paralleling the gully. I planted poles to keep from slipping in the mud, and tried to keep out of the worst of it. Where the snow was deeper, it was easy to walk in the tracks of previous hikers. Eventually it switched back again and shortly crested the col beside a small cairn.
Wotta view! The valley below was pretty snowy, and the slope down to it looked like a deep slog. I had no intention of going down there, but I took in the view. A little way east was Ribbon Lake, and just above it westward, was a Park Patrol Cabin, looking quite new. A trail led from that up to the point directly opposite from me, toward both Buller Pass and North Buller Pass. According to my map there is a lake down below all the snow. Dominating the view on the other side of the valley, was Mount Bogart, with its gracefully curving folds of limestone.
To my left a great wall of a mountain stood between me and Buller Pass, and behind me was The Fortress, Mount Galatea and The Tower. To my right was a broad gravel slope covered with patchy snow. I headed that way. To reach Mount Kidd, I needed to skirt this slope. The other side was a rock band that blocked the ridge to that peak, but I wasn't feeling up to that. I just climbed up the slope.
A trail peeked out between patches of snow, flirting with the edge of the north face of this unnamed peak. Here and there, I stopped to peer over the edge. Not strictly vertical, but bumpy and snow covered and unclimbable (by me, anyway).
At the top, I found a couple of small cairns and a small flat rock, just right for a perch as I dug out my lunch. Below to the west was the broad bowl I'd traversed my last trip out. It looked much smaller from this side and of course I was far above, too.
But the ridge up to Mount Kidd looked steep and treacherous and virtually unclimbable from this vantage. A couple of notches looked impassable, but it would take a closer look to be sure. It's still on my list for next season.
Something startling: across the way, The Fortress had blended into the landscape. At this altitude, it looked pretty much like every other peak to the south. Gusty Peak and Mount Chester were barely noticeable. What dominated the scene was The Tower, against which Lillian Lake and the two Galatea lakes nestled. Just visible past the unnamed peak to the west was Mount Engadine.
I started down, again along the edge of the cliff. At a couple of places I whacked a small chunk of snow out of the miniscule overhangs with a trekking pole, and watched it bounce down the side of the mountain. The second one barely covered the rock it clung to, and I banged the pole pretty hard against it. This resulted in a slightly bent pole. Oops.
Down at the col, I passed the cairn, and started down the snowy slope. After twenty metres I realized I'd gone to far to the west and missed the trail, so I turned back to intersect it. After a few steps, four small white blobs detached themselves from the snow bank and scurried a few metres ahead of me. Ptarmigan, I think, very white, with just a little bit of brown speckles. I got close again, and they did not move. I reached out with a pole to one of them, and got within a couple of centimetres before backing off. It didn't move. Cool
A few steps more and I was between snow banks, staring down at a huge hoof print in the mud. Do elk come this high? Or perhaps sheep have their version of Bigfoot. What ever it was, it was big.
By now the snow was melting more, and the trail was threatening to become a creek of its own. I picked my way along the edges, occasionally stepping in the slop. Thankfully, I didn't get my feet wet from that, only from the snow.
From here, it was a straight forward descent to the Galatea Creek trail, and the long walk to the parking lot. Throughout the day, the sky stayed a clear sparkling blue, and everything was perfect. This time of year, the late afternoon sun is quite low, and the parking lot was in shadow again. But a fabulous day for a hike.
Guinn's Pass
Starting elevation: 1570 m (5151 feet).
Highest elevation: 2636 m (8648 feet).
Lowest elevation: 1523 m (4997 feet).
Elevation gain: 1066 m (3497 feet).
Distance: 18.0 km (11.2 mi).
Time: 6:14.
I went home and loaded the backpack. I originally considered Gusty Peak, but decided instead to try the south peak of Mount Kidd again, this time by Guinn's Pass. Not sure what to expect temperature wise, I layered on clothes, and when I got to the Galatea Parking lot, it seemed justified. The sun had just reached down into that part of the valley, and it hadn't warmed things yet.
The way was humid and cool, and the mud on the trail was mixed with leaves. It was pretty straight forward, hike-wise, and the sun climbed above the smaller peak on the south side of the valley. The smell was incredible - spicey and pungent. The odd cranky squirrel would occasionally chatter at something.
I crossed the sixth bridge, and an old avalanche run, rocks peppered with small trees and bushes. Around this point the trail is much higher than the creek, which flows out from a gash in the rock about seventy metres below. Unseen in that gash is a waterfall that has taken on a bit of basso thunder. I think there is a lot of snow melting up there, and feeding the creek, so there's a lot more water coming down.
I passed the trail I'd taken last time, and someone had since built a small cairn to mark it. The hidden one was still there, behind the tree and past the dead fall. It didn't appeal to me today. I've been battling a cold for the last week. I felt quite good when I started out this morning, but I was soon feeling the lack of energy that accompanies a cold. I wasn't moving all that fast, and the steepness of that trail seemed too much to consider.
After the ninth bridge, snow had accumulated on the path, well packed by the traffic. I think there are still campers at Lillian Lake. The trail steepened and was a little icy, but it didn't take long to reach the junction.
I took the trail right to another bridge across the creek, and then was following a long broad avalanche run. The trail rose gently along a grassy gully, walled in by trees, I would guess Douglas Fir, although there's a lot of white pine out there too. This is old growth. These trees are huge.
The view across the valley wasn't much since the trees blocked much of it. However, with altitude, it began to improve. The Fortress rose behind the ridge opposite, and I wondered if anyone was up there today. I shed my coat and plunged up the run.
A creek flowed intermittently along the bottom of the gully, disappearing into the rocks at times to pop out several metres downslope. Sometimes it was a big rushing stream, sometimes a trickle.
About 2000 metres, the exertion was too much for the clothes I had on. I found a reasonably flat rock and stripped off the longies. Of course I had to take the hikers off, and one slid off the rock and bounced down a couple of metres along the stream bed, wedging between a couple of rocks that jutted out of the water. I gingerly picked my way barefoot down to it, trying to keep my feet out of the water and hoping the shoe wasn't being soaked.
I got lucky. It was just a little damp at the little toe. I dressed and continued. Fifty metres higher, the trail was becoming snow filled, and yesterday's hikers had left tracks that lead to the right across the rock fall to a trail that switched back that way. From here I picked my way along the edge of the snow and the trail, as it rose into scrubby forest. It crossed the avalanche run and traversed the slope westward.
Eventually it turned again, paralleling the gully. I planted poles to keep from slipping in the mud, and tried to keep out of the worst of it. Where the snow was deeper, it was easy to walk in the tracks of previous hikers. Eventually it switched back again and shortly crested the col beside a small cairn.
Wotta view! The valley below was pretty snowy, and the slope down to it looked like a deep slog. I had no intention of going down there, but I took in the view. A little way east was Ribbon Lake, and just above it westward, was a Park Patrol Cabin, looking quite new. A trail led from that up to the point directly opposite from me, toward both Buller Pass and North Buller Pass. According to my map there is a lake down below all the snow. Dominating the view on the other side of the valley, was Mount Bogart, with its gracefully curving folds of limestone.
To my left a great wall of a mountain stood between me and Buller Pass, and behind me was The Fortress, Mount Galatea and The Tower. To my right was a broad gravel slope covered with patchy snow. I headed that way. To reach Mount Kidd, I needed to skirt this slope. The other side was a rock band that blocked the ridge to that peak, but I wasn't feeling up to that. I just climbed up the slope.
A trail peeked out between patches of snow, flirting with the edge of the north face of this unnamed peak. Here and there, I stopped to peer over the edge. Not strictly vertical, but bumpy and snow covered and unclimbable (by me, anyway).
At the top, I found a couple of small cairns and a small flat rock, just right for a perch as I dug out my lunch. Below to the west was the broad bowl I'd traversed my last trip out. It looked much smaller from this side and of course I was far above, too.
But the ridge up to Mount Kidd looked steep and treacherous and virtually unclimbable from this vantage. A couple of notches looked impassable, but it would take a closer look to be sure. It's still on my list for next season.
Something startling: across the way, The Fortress had blended into the landscape. At this altitude, it looked pretty much like every other peak to the south. Gusty Peak and Mount Chester were barely noticeable. What dominated the scene was The Tower, against which Lillian Lake and the two Galatea lakes nestled. Just visible past the unnamed peak to the west was Mount Engadine.
I started down, again along the edge of the cliff. At a couple of places I whacked a small chunk of snow out of the miniscule overhangs with a trekking pole, and watched it bounce down the side of the mountain. The second one barely covered the rock it clung to, and I banged the pole pretty hard against it. This resulted in a slightly bent pole. Oops.
Down at the col, I passed the cairn, and started down the snowy slope. After twenty metres I realized I'd gone to far to the west and missed the trail, so I turned back to intersect it. After a few steps, four small white blobs detached themselves from the snow bank and scurried a few metres ahead of me. Ptarmigan, I think, very white, with just a little bit of brown speckles. I got close again, and they did not move. I reached out with a pole to one of them, and got within a couple of centimetres before backing off. It didn't move. Cool
A few steps more and I was between snow banks, staring down at a huge hoof print in the mud. Do elk come this high? Or perhaps sheep have their version of Bigfoot. What ever it was, it was big.
By now the snow was melting more, and the trail was threatening to become a creek of its own. I picked my way along the edges, occasionally stepping in the slop. Thankfully, I didn't get my feet wet from that, only from the snow.
From here, it was a straight forward descent to the Galatea Creek trail, and the long walk to the parking lot. Throughout the day, the sky stayed a clear sparkling blue, and everything was perfect. This time of year, the late afternoon sun is quite low, and the parking lot was in shadow again. But a fabulous day for a hike.
Guinn's Pass
Starting elevation: 1570 m (5151 feet).
Highest elevation: 2636 m (8648 feet).
Lowest elevation: 1523 m (4997 feet).
Elevation gain: 1066 m (3497 feet).
Distance: 18.0 km (11.2 mi).
Time: 6:14.
# posted by Kelly @ 6:22 p.m. 
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