2007/06 BC trip - Mount Arrowsmith

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Wednesday July 11th
My daughter wanted to take another crack at climbing Arrowsmith, pictured here from their living room the evening before.  We’d climbed up to the Saddle with my cousin on a perfect day before her wedding, and we’d tried again back in 2003 but that climb had been washed out by heavy rain just below the Saddle.  This time the weather looked perfect again and we were looking forward to a good view at the top, over towards Vancouver and Mount Baker.

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FAMILY VERSION



The Pass Main logging road was busy with trucks and workers, but at least they’d fixed the road up after years of deterioration.  The spur up to the trail was empty though with no one parked and it looked like we had the mountain to ourselves, just us and the dogs.  It was still cool, with the trail mainly in the shade.  This would be her first serious hike in four years, and the first for me since both of my legs had recovered.

Arrowsmith is more of a climb than a hike – almost all is either climbing up rock or pulling yourself up from tree to tree.  The local hiking club has marked the route with ribbons and even provided a rope where the rock is especially steep.  Rogan needed a helping shove in a couple of places.  Gracie climbed well.

There were flowers all around the trail:  columbines, lupines, heather, and glacier lilies where the snow had recently melted.  Much of the trail follows steep creeks and these were full of water, which made for slow climbing.

We stopped at one of the flat spots and looked back into the Alberni valley.  The whole horizon was filled with snow-capped mountains, stretching back into Strathcona park.  We could see the Alberni inlet with the Catalyst paper mill, Great Central Lake, and Sproat Lake with a large plane on the water that had to be one of the waterbombers.  Behind the town we could see the farmland around McCoy Lake and above it, three houses, the middle one with the peaked window being their house.

We were now crossing patches of snow, and then climbing up a steep creek also covered in snow.  This was really hard going as the creek had carved a tunnel under the snow and we never knew when a chunk of snow would let go and drop us into the water.  Either side of the creek was a wall of small spruce.  We couldn’t get through it but at least we had branches to grab.  Every so often we would hear a “sproing” noise behind us and turn around to see that our vibrations had allowed a buried spruce to pop out of the snow.  If trees could have expressions these were showing “Wow, must be spring!”

Eventually we came out at the last steep rocky section below the Saddle, and it was covered with a hard, icy snowfield from the top to way below us..  It was too hard for us to kick steps into it, and one slip could result in a long slide down the mountain, so we tried to go up the edge of the snowfield where it had melted back from the cliff face.  Unfortunately, the recently melted mud was as slick as the snow.  My boots’ soles are well worn, and I was the first to slide, and hung there with my nose in the snow.  Then Rogan decided to go up the easy way, and he came sliding past me, frantically trying to get upright.  He went a long way before he got his claws dug in.  Then my daughter turned to see what was happening and she came sliding past me into the mud. 

We gave up!  The Saddle would have to wait for another day.  If we’d had crampons it would have been an easy walk straight up the middle, though even then I wouldn’t have tried it without an ice-axe in hand to stop a slide.

Coming down was easier, as the snow was getting softer and gravity was on our side.  At the bottom we met a young couple just starting the climb.  They would fry in the sun, but they had the right gear with them.

It was already in the 90s down in Port Alberni.  We dropped off two very tired dogs, collected Sandie and the boys, and headed over to Sproat Lake for an afternoon’s splashing around.  We could see the waterbomber and snow-clad Mt Klitsa from the beach.  Later that afternoon, it was 102F in Port Alberni, the first time our camper’s registered 100 degrees, mainly because we’re sensible enough to be in the south in the winter and the north in the summer.  An advantage of retirement!

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