In the BC Back-Country

Sun. – Thurs. 12-16 June: 

In the BC Back-Country

In Summary

This trip into southeastern BC was a continuation of my fire lookout hikes of 2010.  Over three full days I made it to the top of three lookout hills, and almost to the top of a fourth.  Given more time and better weather I might have doubled that number.  But nevertheless it was an exciting few days in the BC back-country, a mix of disappointments and pleasant surprises.  My driving route was a very rough clockwise loop around the Rockies, starting in Calgary.  I travelled almost 1200 km, a quarter of which was on back-country roads.

Statistics Summary
BC back-country
Mon.- Wed. 13-15 June
Total Dist.	30 km (hike) +   5 km (bike)   =  35 km
Height Gain	5,445 ft.
Max. Elev.	7,200 ft.
Time	10 hrs. 18 mins.

Other Stats. (driving dist. with back-road portion in brackets)
Sun. 12th:  281.5 km (0 km) Mon. 13th: 210.3 km (126.9 km) Tues. 14th: 213.9 km (53.6 km)	Wed. 15th: 121.1 km (84.1 km) Thurs. 16th: 370.2 km (35.0 km) TOTAL: 1197.0 km (299.6 km) (= 25% on back-roads)

Sunday June 12th

My greatest hope was that I could find my way to the bottom end of the remote Flathead Valley at the US border.  Leaving Calgary on the Sunday evening, it only took me three and a quarter hours to drive the 280 km to Fernie, where I stayed overnight in a handy motel. 

Monday June 13th

Up early the next morning, it was a short drive down Highway 3 to Morrissey, where I turned on to the access road to the Flathead.  Carefully following the fire lookout guidebook instructions, I made steady progress along the rough gravel road, known as the Lodgepole Fire Service Road (FSR).  It climbed steadily up a long valley, until at about the 30 km mark, I reached a junction, high up in the mountains. 

Here I had intended to continue on the Harvey FSR into the Flathead Valley, but the road was blocked by snow.  Taking a gamble, I turned north onto the McLatchie FSR and immediately began a steep hairpin ascent to the road summit.  The packed mud was luckily dry, and even more luckily, enough snow had melted to allow my progress over the pass and down the other side into the Flathead.  There were remnants of huge snowdrifts beside the road.  Eventually I passed a small lake with a cabin beside it, and after crossing the wide Flathead River on a narrow bridge, I reached the junction with the Flathead Valley road.

If I had expected a decent road for my planned journey south, I was disappointed.  The Flathead road is in fact a narrow, stony, potholed trail, with several puddles on it of uncertain depth.  Although I was in the middle of spectacular mountain scenery, I knew that this was just too remote for my liking.  I was already over 45 km from the nearest main road, and now separated by one high pass. 

I continued a little way southwards, detouring along the access road to Pollock Fire Lookout.  The creeks were raging torrents and the snow was still deep at higher elevations, and so any idea of hiking up that trail was out of the question.  Reaching a high point on the road, with good views up and down the valley, I decided to turn around before I ran into trouble.  I had seen no other vehicles since turning off the main highway, and clearly I was not going to be able to make it down to the bottom end of the Flathead Valley, still over 50 km away.  The Flathead is a magnificent wilderness and I am still determined to return, perhaps later this summer, to try again when the snow has melted, the puddles have dried up, and the creeks are able to be crossed.  My return journey was cautious but uneventful.

I should have mentioned that, soon after turning off the highway on my inward journey, I noticed a black bear quickly disappearing off the road into the bush.  This area is apparently very popular with grizzly bears, but I saw none today.  The back-country was, however, full of deer.

After this exciting side trip, it was still only mid-morning, and my day had only just begun.  Before camping tonight I would climb two fire lookout hills and go on a short bike ride.  The first lookout hill was Sheep Mountain, which lies a few kilometres south of the tiny village of Elko.  It was an easy stroll up active logging roads to a flat summit.  The lookout building was removed many years ago, and there is now a tall communications tower on the summit.  On my way up I passed two separate logging operations, the first loading a truck with trees, and the second clearing the hillsides.  I kept a safe distance away and nobody seemed to mind as this perhaps unexpected hiker strolled by in the middle of a Monday morning.  The view westwards from the treed summit was very good.  The Wigwam Valley headed eastwards towards the Flathead, and the Elk River wound its way through a valley.  The clouds hung around the mountainsides.  On my return down the mountain, on an anti-clockwise loop, I passed the logging truck as it was starting down the hillside fully loaded with tree trunks.

Not far west of Elko lies Kikomun Creek Provincial Park, and a very nice campground.  I would return to stay the night, but right now, I was on my way to my next lookout hill, known as Casey, or Plumbob Hill.  The road crosses the almost dry Lake Koocanusa, before reverting to gravel FSR.  Turning north onto Plumbob/Waldo FSR, I soon reached the narrow, steep fire road leading to Casey Lookout. I drove up the road for just less than 5 km before continuing on up the steep hill on foot.  The road switchbacked up the valley to the rounded summit where an active fire lookout tower sits.  It is a 20 metre high guyed pylon with an observation cupola on the top.  Nobody was at home.  It was overcast and the views were not great. But a summit is a summit!

On my way back down the ridge, I noticed what seemed to be an overgrown trail contouring up to a secondary top.  Sure enough it was the original fire road which led to a much more spectacular hilltop with the foundations of the old fire lookout building on the very edge of a steep hillside.  Views from here to the west were very good.  A small plaque on a rock acted as a memorial to a George McIntyre, who died in 1995.  What a wonderful place to have a memorial, on a grand, lonely hilltop which few people may ever visit.

It was a quick return to the car.  I travelled a short distance west on the Caven Creek FSR, to check out a tiny campsite down a short hill by the river, but almost got stuck in the mud.  It was a safer bet to return to the luxury of the Provincial Park campsite.  That evening I took a bike ride around the Provincial Park, discovering several small lakes, one with a beach, and an abandoned railway line, which I followed for a short distance through a cutting.  It was now heavily overcast, but somehow or other it stayed dry.  The large campsite was almost empty.  It rained steadily all night, but I had erected a tarp over my tent to keep the tent dry for future nights.  It worked perfectly.

Statistics
Sheep Mountain
Mon. 13 June
Total Dist.	7.0 km (hike)
Height Gain	935 ft.
Max. Elev.	3,840 ft.
Time	1 hr. 55 mins.

 

Other Stats.
Start hike:     10.42 am Top:              11.30 am Ret. to car:    12.37 pm	Mostly overcast, warm day.

Statistics
Casey (Plumbob) Mountain
Mon. 13 June
Total Dist.	7.6 km (hike)
Height Gain	1,410 ft.
Max. Elev.	5,430 ft.
Car + Hike	2,080 ft.
Time	2 hrs. 3 mins.

Other Stats.
Start hike:      1.54 pm Top:                2.50 pm Ret. to car:      3.57 pm	Mostly overcast, warm day.

Tuesday June 14th

Today I had hoped to climb to the active fire lookout on Mt. Baker, which sits above the busy town of Cranbrook.  Carefully following the guidebook, I turned off a gravel road onto a steep muddy trail and soon was forced to turn around to avoid getting stuck.  I double checked the precise directions, and even drove a little further down the forestry road, but could not find a driveable route up the mountain.  So I returned to Cranbrook a little disappointed.  I later discovered that if I had persevered a couple of kilometers further along the gravel road, I would have found the right route – but I had stuck to the guidebook even when it proved to be wrong.  No matter, I thought, I can always come back and climb up Mt. Baker on my next visit to BC.

So I continued northwards along my planned circuit to the next lookout hill, called Lakit, which lies to the northeast of Fort Steele.  It was a sunny day today, and visibility was good.  Lakit Lookout trail, according to the guidebook, should be a simple hike to one of the few remaining fire lookout buildings in this part of BC.  It is no longer active, but is apparently maintained as a shelter.  I completely underestimated the task.

The approach route took me up the steep sides of a long valley on increasingly rough and narrow roads.  At the bottom of the valley, it was warm and sunny, already feeling a little like early summer.  At the top it was an entirely different prospect.  Eventually, after just over thirteen kilometers, I could go no further.  I stopped at a point where I could just turn the car around. Beyond here, the road was snow-covered.  Just as I was trying to figure out what to do next, I heard a vehicle approaching up the steep hill, and then the sound of a chain saw attacking a fallen tree.  I strolled down the hill to see if I could lend a hand.  Here I met Doug, who might have been as surprised to see me standing there as I was to meet anyone else in such a remote spot.  This unexpected meeting proved to be very lucky for me.  

Doug, who recently retired from an important post in the education world, knew this mountain like the back of his hand.  This was his own back yard, and his playground, in summer and winter.  Until he appeared almost miraculously (out of thin air, it seemed) I had decided to see how far I could get up this road.  But I knew, as soon as I rounded the corner and saw the snow still lying, that I was not going to make it very far.  I had not brought my snow shoes, and had not expected to be hiking in snow.  This had been a winter of heavy snowfalls, and up here, winter still held the upper hand.  

Doug was kind enough to invite me to join him as he made his way up the mountainside.  He knew exactly what he was doing and he knew exactly the best route up the snow-clogged slopes.  As a result, instead of my turning around after a few hundred yards of snow-covered trail, I eventually found myself almost two thousand vertical feet above the car, within sight of the mountain top.  I was not equipped for these conditions, and being quite a bit heavier than Doug, found myself sinking up to my knees on steep snowy slopes, quickly draining my energy levels.  The summit, and the Lakit Lookout building, lay just a few hundred vertical feet above me, but I had to admit defeat.  Nevertheless, this high vantage point gave grand views across to distant mountain ranges, including Top of the World.   

Doug led us back down a steep hillside, all the way down to the road for 1800 vertical feet.  This precipitous, tree-filled slope acts as a private ski hill for daredevil skiers.  Lower down it is known as Cougar Creek, where Doug came across the carcass of a deer killed one winter by a cougar.  Even without skis, it was a fast descent today, down through the snow.  Soon we were back on the road, from where it was a short stroll through the melting snow to our cars.  

I have no idea if Doug will ever read this blog, but if he does, then he should know that I am very grateful to him for his company, his patience and his skilled guiding, which turned an unsuccessful attempt at Lakit Lookout into at least a partial success, and certainly an enjoyable outing on the hill.  I will put Lakit on my list for a return trip sometime in the future.

Back down on the valley floor, it was a very warm, sunny afternoon, as I visited the interesting general store beside the main highway.  Continuing north, I visited Wasa Lake campground, but it was large and unattractive, so I decided instead to try the more out-of-the-way Premier Lake campsite, further north.  

Premier Lake lies about a dozen kilometres off the main road, and is a magical backwater.  The lake is hidden in a fold of steep hills, directly below the mountain wall and is a perfect fishing lake complete with a pretty campground.  I enjoyed a stroll down to the lake as the sun dropped below the hillsides.  Once again it rained most of the night, but my tarp system kept the tent completely dry.  It had been another action-packed day.

Statistics
Lakit Mountain
Tues. 14 June
Total Dist.	6 km (hike)
Height Gain	1,970 ft.
Max. Elev.	7,200 ft.
Car + Hike	4,600 ft.
Time	3 hrs. 13 mins.

Other Stats.
Start hike:     10.27 am Highest pt:    12.13 pm Ret. to car:      1.40 pm	Mostly overcast, snow under foot.  Much cooler higher up.

Wednesday June 15th

The mist clung to the mountainside as I returned the next morning to the main highway at Skookumchuck.  The forecast was not promising for today, but I ignored the chances of rain and headed up yet another long, steep forestry road to my next fire lookout called - for short - “Skook Lookout”.  After my earlier attempts at lookout approach roads, I had little expectation that I would make it all the way to the end of this mountain road, a journey of twenty kilometers.  I surprised myself.  This was a reasonable surface, still being used as an active logging road.  It climbed into the cloud and mist, and almost made it out into sunshine, but there was too much cloud around today for that.  

The hike from the high starting point was a straightforward switchback trail, partially rebuilt for modern logging trucks, but then deteriorating into a snow-clogged track as it climbed through the trees to the summit ridge.  Nobody had been this way since the last snowfall, but luckily it was easily managed on foot.  At the top of this rounded hillside, half hidden in the mist, stood the fire lookout building, sitting on top of an unattractive cinder block structure.  There was nobody at home.  Access to the building is through a locked door in the base structure, an internal staircase, then a door leading to an external stairway higher up the structure – completely impregnable.  These fire structures are designed I suppose to withstand a direct attack by a forest fire.

The mist started to clear a little as I left the summit, giving views down through layers of cloud to the valley and surrounding mountains, as if I was up in an aircraft way above the clouds.

For my final night’s camping, I drove northwards on the empty main Highway 93/95  - keeping ahead of a rainstorm - to a point just south of the village of Canal Flats.  Here I turned east onto the Whiteswan FSR into another beautiful wilderness area.  The road passed below Mt. Grainger, where I could see the access point for the Watson lookout hill (a possible future hike, and a tough one), then entered a steep-sided gorge leading through a gap in the mountains, past a hot springs (see later), to the magnificent Whiteswan Lake. 

At the far eastern end of the lake is a pretty campground, with lakefront campsites, mostly taken by seasonal RVs owned, probably, by avid fishermen.  I picked a good campsite just back from the lake.  Having pitched my tent in a light drizzle, I enjoyed a stroll along the north shore of the lake to a point which gave views back westwards along the lake.  It was a scene which reminded me of the Lake District in England, or a loch somewhere in the southern Highlands of Scotland.  The overcast weather suited this magical scene.  The friendly lady who runs the campsite was sure that the weather was improving and that tomorrow the probability of precipitation would only be 40%!  But a light rain fell that evening and I abandoned my warm fire-pit for a warmer sleeping bag.

Statistics
Skook Lookout
Wed. 15 June
Total Dist.	6.4 km (hike)
Height Gain	1,080 ft.
Max. Elev.	6,330 ft.
Car + Hike	3,730 ft.
Time	1 hr. 52 mins.

Other Stats.
Start hike:       9.51 am Top:              10.49 am Ret. to car:    11.43 am	Mostly overcast, slight drizzle and mist at top.

Thursday June 16th

The previous day, before arriving at my campsite, I had continued a little further along the wet backroads to Whiteswan campsite, which sits right next to the river of the same name.  This river was in full spate, and looked a very dangerous stretch of water.  The campsite was empty. 

This morning I now returned alongside Whiteswan Lake back to the main road, stopping at Lussier Hot Springs.  This is not a Banff or a Fairmont Hot Springs, with fancy hotels and elaborate hot pools.  This is simply three small pools by the side of a river running through a canyon, reached by a steep path leading down from the road.  You might get a dozen people in each pool at a squeeze.  Except that the lower two pools were under water at the moment as the river raced over the top.  The upper pool, however, was warm and had a strong smell of sulphur.  There were no buildings.  This is a totally undeveloped little secret for those in the know (who I suspect number in their hundreds on a busy summer afternoon!).

Now, as I returned to Highway 93/95, the weather started to settle into a soggy wet day.  It was time for me to return home, so I turned northwards and raced through the increasing rain-showers to Radium, and eastwards through Kootenay National Park and so to Banff and home.  As I drove east up the valley from Radium, a car flashed its lights at me. Around the corner I saw an enormous bear by the side of the road, which must have just crossed the highway and was now sitting on the side of the road looking a little disconcerted.  It was the largest bear I had ever seen, almost like a large cow I thought (a brown cow!).  It was not a good idea to linger, so my snapshot only caught half the bear – that was enough.

Just after noon, I was driving back into the city of Calgary, after a wet journey all the way through the mountains.  But that had not prevented yet another exciting sortie into BC’s back-country.  Already I have a list of adventures for my next trip over the mountains.