Grizzly Bear Den Provincial Park - again

So, I ventured into the aptly named Grizzly Den Provincial Park once again this murky fall season. I drove with one eye on the road, one eye on the rain and one eye on the approaching mountain tops to scan for snow accumulation.

Having that third eye helps.

Once I arrived at the turn off, I gathered some thoughts and decided that it was worth it. I saw wispy white clearings in the ranges above and knew what awaited. But, come on......it was a 5km hike and not too much in terms of elevation gain. I wasn't going to kill myself on this hike. This was just a small one to get me sweating and into nature before I prepared for an evening full of Astronomy chatter at (my first!) the RASC Annual Meeting. Regardless, I was thinking of a nice swift tromp up to the alpine and back without event.

But come on....this is me, and I can somehow turn buying ice cream into a dangerous event. So, danger ensued. Slight danger. Not "I almost died" danger, but "that was stupid" danger.

The Set-Up: Hiking trail that is well used but loses itself in the high alpine as there is no real trail, but km's of non-descript small spruce and fir trees dotting the landscape. At the end of the trail, a cabin and a lake (Raven Lake).

The Swing: I start walking. The snow starts. I get the first sweat-chill and know I should have brought more clothes. Whatever. I trudge on. Up. Up. Up. Up. Out - out of the forest and into the tundra-esque alpine region. I continue beyond my comfort zone into the now blizzard like conditions and scramble my way up and down the land, across a swamp and up to the clearing that opens up to offer a cabin. Rustic, rudimentary cabin. Rarely would I look forward to a cabin on a regular hike, but I needed respite from the conditions - snow was getting in my everywhere.

The Follow Through: Time to go back. No trail. Tracks covered by wind and snow. No tracks.

No trail.

No clue which way is home. Blizzard in full swing these many km's away from my parked car and my victory beer, and I cant see anything. No trail, no footprints (the snow here was about 20cm deep (base) and a whisp of about 5 cm on top of that, newly fallen - that is about 3.54 and a 1/16 horse teeth for you imperial types...you know who you are).

The Lessons:

#1 - don't hike alone

#2 - don't hike alone in the snow without proper gear

#3 - don't hike in the alpine without leaving a proper trail for yourself when it is snowing, let alone a blizzard

#4 - bring more cheese because your going to get hungrier than you think

And the most important lesson learned today?

#5 - When lost in the snowy alpine, alone, in a blizzard, with no trail to follow...just wander about. Something will work out. Hopefully.

But it did. I got to have my beer and pause in relief at the end of the trail, as the blizzard followed me all the way down the mountain and the snow vetted my realization that winter was in Prince George.

Above: Click on this to see a damn fine video of Raven lake during a break in the blizzard. Sort of. Remember, this is an alpine lake, rare at best around here. Seeing such a large body of water so high up was a startling vista.The wind actually died for a short while as I was leaving and I could glimpse fantastic geology across the lake - a lithographic twist that is obvious. The perfect fold, perhaps. Ill try to get more of it on a return trip someday.

Below: Me, in the gleeful pose that indicates my pleasure with the cold. I was, actually, pleased with the hike. I knew the trail I blazed woudl be gone at this point, and worries stopped my enjoyment a little. I hurried through the "pleasure" emotion of being there, and focused on the "oh, F**k" emotion of thinking about getting home!

Actually, in reality it was beautiful and after the scary moments and the frightful thoughts, I was reassured by the beauty and calm that the alpine always brings. It is so freaking nice to be there. So, absolutely, gratefully wonderful to be on foot and away from everything. Alone, in the mountains - life becomes real.

Winter is here...

...the local store has brought in its chestnut stock from the far reaches of the world.


Harbinger of winter, if any. And snow is due tonight, making it pseudo-officially winter.

The Comet Commeth...

The sky ignites emotions, again.

Comet Holmes, well established in the blog sphere and astro-literature (yet to hear about it on "real", also credited with the nomenclature "organized", news agencies - repetitive updates on strike moves, sports updates and hour long previews of contemporary celebrity lifestyles deemed far too important to shelve for a peek into our universe and a tinge of science and reality) is peering out beyond the clouds intermittently tonight, but last night it was well in the open. Cold wind abating for a few days, I was able to stand outside and revel in the inspiration of seeing a comet - a chunk of ice from the vast distance of the solar system - without the usual chill of winter forcing me back inside.

I managed a semi-decent picture of the comet, nestled piercingly within Perseus, and took photographic liberties with awesome views of other favourites of the night sky.

Comet Holmes, find the backwards "L" and it is at its bottom end. The bright one near the bottom left is Capella. Go 45 degrees to the right and you hit another bright one dubbed Mirfak. Follow from Mirfak down one bright star and then from that one go left about 4mm. That really wont help. Look it up on a site that took the time to label it prior to posting it, perhaps!

Two beauties of the evening show. Lyra, with Vega glistening its prominence of the night, and Cygnus (the Northern Cross) diving down towards the horizon.

The asterism that everyone knows and loves, The Big Dipper. You can see Polaris near the top right (follow the last two stars in the ladle of the dipper north [up] and you will run into almost true north)

Moonerific.

Just wanted to share. Go take a look at the sky tonight (to the northeast) for the comet and tomorrow morning (near Gemini, in the East) for a treat of a planet.

Viking Ridge - the real post

This is one of the most dauntingly beautiful hikes within an hour or so of the PG territory. Rugged and placid moments throughout the trail evening out the experience and plummeting my worries away for the day. I was in another world, and as much as that cliche ravages my eyes to see typed, it is, was, reality.

I traveled on foot from misty fog and warm shrubery to frozen snow covered mountaintop wetland. It was wonderful, and trying.
Ghastly moments alone in the woods, 2 hours up a mountainside, just passed bear scat, not a sound to comfort or obstruct my thoughts - and then WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP!....gluk...gluk..gluk.... right beside me. RIGHT beside me.....no room for personal space...they wait until you are 'on them' and then they go to their "whump Whump" wing flapping absurditiy of a defense mechanism.

Gets me everytime. Every time.

The beginning of the hike in interior temperate rainforest - massive pillars of aged trees abound. A veritable cloaking of green moss giving the forest the charm of life countering the stark upward phallic of trees; a cozy moment. Warm, rainy and damp at this point.

And then I snuck in my first snow chew of the year. As I worked my way up slope the meagre warmth of the lowland area left, and I felt the chill of altitude nip at my exposed face. The snow was sparse at this point but enough to elicit the glee of incumbent winter and the worries of a summer gone. The trail was much active still with no frozen sections to help my fleet footing - cold mud for the most part!

And then....the Caribou Flats of the ridge line. Atop the peak of this ridge, after hours of hiking upwards through the massive cedars and hemlocks, the green mossy floor, the running streams and nattering songbirds, the forest opened up and gave a fiesta of emotion. The snow was now ankle deep at times, enough to hide the near liquid sediment ground that allowed me to, early on, amass much mud on my boots and have it duly frozen in place! When my feet were not falling through marshy vegetation and slopping about in the watery highlands, they were feeling their way across some of the most beautiful ecology that I have found so close to home. The alpine was ahead, unattained for this trip, but after my glimpse of what was here the return is unavoidable.

I kept on through this section for a 1/2 hour or so, took lunch and bundled up to head back down. After some brief re-con with a map at home I realized that this trail actually connects to two others, and a fabulous overnight trip is available, necessary even.

The land will be wet all year long, not just a seasonal trait, up this high and with such rock below and I am wondering about the 'skitters and flies. Time will tell......

The view on the way down through the foggy conifers. Mystical, in its most non-mystical meandered meaning.

g'night.

Viking Ridge Trail

Coming soon..technical absurdities with the folkies at blogspot.

I went from 10c and a wispy rain to 3cm of snow and frigidity at the ridge/peak...