From a sweltering day to a snowy stomp, from getting lost to feeling like we were on another continent; this blog tells the stories of five very different hikes in Northern British Columbia.
1. Losing the plot on Coffee Pot Mountain
Coffee Pot Mountain is on the traditional land of the Tse’khene, who were nomadic hunters.
After our spring jaunt up Tea Pot Mountain, its sister ‘Coffee Pot’ had to be ticked off the list.
This was the first time Breanne – who you met in this tale – and I had hiked together. Aside from the fact that we nearly ended up under a forestry truck which was speeding around a blind corner, on the forestry service road which takes you up to Coffee Pot Mountain, things looked promising for our first adventure, especially the weather!
The trail led us into a forest and almost immediately began to climb upwards quite steeply. When we got to the top, the cloudless blue sky provided us with the classic northern British Columbia view: clear cuts, lakes, rivers and trees. A clear cut is an area of forest that has been cleared for logging, it is a common sight on hikes in the Prince George area.
At the top of Coffee Pot, there is a trail which does a loop around the peak. Although the path was clear and easy to walk – no bushwhacking necessary – there were no signs to follow. I have become accustomed to BC’s well marked trails which remove any need for navigation, so I blame the lack of signs on this trail for the fact that we got a little lost!
But this was also the first time Breanne and I had done something together outside of work and we were much to engrossed in conversation to notice that we had walked past the path that would lead us back down the mountain!
Ordinarily, the need to retrace our steps and search for the path would not have been a big problem, but this was a scorching day and water supplies were starting to run low; so we decided to try and scramble down.
I love a scramble! It is my absolute favourite type of hiking, but the slope was far too vertical. If we slipped there was a steep drop below us and so we decided we better not pursue that plan!
Thankfully, after a bit more searching we found the trail which would take us back down! Off the mountain, out of the blazing sun and safely through the forestry service roads without having to avoid a logging truck this time!
2. Finding ourselves in North Wales on Murray Range
Murray Range is on the traditional land of the Tse’khene, who were nomadic hunters.
‘It’s a scramble, so you’ll love it Helen’ was how our friend Marcus told us about this hike!
By this point in 2021 we had become accustomed to doing everything as a group of six, but as three of the team (Lindsay, James and Courtney) were away, it would just be Marcus, Jacob, Nova (the Aussie Shepard) and I tackling Murray Range.
Marcus did not falsely advertise Murray Range – as soon as we hit the trail we were scrambling up a steep gully and it was exhausting, but absolutely brilliant, from the start.
Scrambling up a steep mountain face, not technical enough to need climbing gear, but challenging enough that you have to concentrate on where hands and feet are placed, is, for me, the most rewarding way of ascending. The need to focus on your next step or hand hold, means you hardly notice the meters pass by, even on a steep incline like this one.
Much of the rock face we were scrambling over was smooth from water, making it tricky to get traction. But Nova, the Aussie-Shepard, had no problem, which meant she could be on the look out for bears while we focused on not slipping!
Just before we reached the top we stopped to enjoy the spectacular view of the surrounding mountains and the lake far below; a few moments later the cloud and mist set in, so close that we could only see a few meters ahead and the beautiful view disappeared.
Once the clouds appeared and a sudden down pour began, meaning rain coats had to go on, Jacob and I both had a feeling that we had been here before. Hidden in hoods, eyes cast down to protect from the wind, the feeling of wet rocks beneath fingers: we were suddenly transported to Snowdonia, North Wales!
It was a very strange sensation and not a very welcome one (for me at least). I have got used to dry air, being able to see the view at the top of mountains and the lack of that annoying, shuffling sound created by waterproof trousers between legs!!
But, once we reached the top, we were too elated to care about the weather.
As we began to descend, the rain grew heavier and heavier and the visibility grew less and less. We had to be careful to check for trail markers (pieces of tape, often orange, tied to trees) and not wonder off course.
When we reached the gully and the steep section, what had been a fun scramble on the way up, was now a treacherous teeter over wet rocks.
Nova made us look like fools with our silly two legs as she bounded over the slippery rocks. I also devised a quicker method for descending – which can best be described as a bum shuffle – which I thought was brilliant (much faster and no danger of slipping) until a voice shouted at me from somewhere further up the trail that I was turning the path into a mud slide and making it harder for Jacob and Marcus to get down!
After that I had to make do with the two legged option all the way down the mountain, away from the moist North Wales air, to the car where- thankfully – dry clothes and a hot flask of tea were waiting.
3. Chomping the bear’s blueberries on Driscoll Ridge
Driscoll Ridge is on the unceded lands of the Lheidli T’enneh.
After our successful day on Murray Range, the following weekend Marcus, Jacob and I decided to find another hike to tick off while the others were away.
Driscoll Ridge is east of Prince George along highway 16. This area, or specifically this road, is a true wildlife corridor. It was on this highway that I saw my first bear and later that summer, a wolf.
As well as being a haven for wildlife, this area is special for its trees.
This is because the Driscoll Ridge trail is not far from the Chun T’oh Whudujut Provincial Park or ‘The Ancient Forest’, which is the only inland temperate rainforest in the world, has thousand year old western red cedars and has been granted a protected status.
It became clear how near to the Ancient Forest we were when we set off on the trail and saw the size of the trees; as well as the untouched carpet of moss, lichen and fungi covering every surface and creating an enchanting path through the trees.
Once we were out of the forest on the ridge, we could see the mountain range opposite. Each jagged peak was different from the next and in front of them weaved a river surrounded on all sides by trees. Miles and miles of trees.
After we had admired the view for a while, and to his delight Jacob had spotted a glacier in the distance, we walked on. The trail weaved back into the trees, which were now surrounded by low, blueberry bushes bearing lots of fruit.
It was early fall, the time when the bears are most active as they work on fattening themselves up by consuming every last morsel they can get their hands on.
But, suddenly, keeping an eye out for bears keen to protect this patch of blueberry bushes became my job alone, as the other two became engrossed with gorging.
Nevermind a compass, a napkin would have been more use on that hike as Jacob and Marcus attempted to devour every last blueberry in sight!
Imagine the indignation of the bear whose territory we were in, when they returned to these bushes to find them stinking of humans and the precious blueberries demolished!
After a while, before an angry bear showed up, we made our way back down the trail, away from the boy’s buffet, into the magical forest and back to the car.
4. Flying high at Raven Lake and Peak
Raven Peak is on the unceded lands of the Lheidli T’enneh.
On a beautiful Fall day Lindsay, Marcus, Jacob, Nova and I set off to complete the Raven Lake trail. Raven Lake is east of Prince George, along highway 16, also known as the Yellowhead Highway.
When you leave the highway, you follow the Hungary Creek Forest road into the bush for a while, filling you with the sense that you are driving deep into the wild.
Which, given that this provincial park is called ‘Sugarbowl-Grizzy Den’ – Grizzly Den for god’s sake – is probably how you should be feeling!
Like so many trails in British Columbia, which will eventually lead to the stunning sub alpine, this one began with a reasonably steep and somewhat monotonous path through the forest.
After about 5 kilometers we were above the trees, in the sub-alpine, and we had a decision to make: we could take the trail directly to Raven Lake or extend the hike by walking the ridge to Raven Peak.
On such a clear day, with the promise of a panoramic view of miles of mountains, there was no choice – we had to bag the summit!
It was windy on the ridge, but a relatively easy walk up to the summit, where the spectacular view confirmed that we had made the right decision.
Facing the way we had come, we could now see the lake with its surprisingly tropical blue hues, surrounded with high banks of sediment, and, at the water front, one solitary hikers cabin.
Facing away from Raven Lake, we could see rows and rows of mountains. The ones in the foreground were similar rocky, grey summits to the one we were on, but beyond we could see rows of snow capped peaks.
We followed the trail down the other side of the ridge, which led us to the lake and the cabin. We decided to stop there to eat our lunch and, as the smell of logs burning was so enticing and there seemed to be no one there at that moment, pop our heads into the cabin.
It was hard to tear ourselves away from the beauty of this paradise that lies hidden above the tree line, but eventually we finished our sandwiches, and reentered the forest to descend the tree-lined path to the trail head.
5. Stomping through sweet, sweet snow on Sugarbowl
Sugarbowl is on the unceded lands of the Lheidli T’enneh.
In early October, when James and Courtney had returned from their trip, the six of us set out to conquer Sugarbowl-Grizzly Den Provincial Park’s name sake: The Sugarbowl Mountain Trail.
Unsurprisingly, given they lie within the same provincial park, the first part of the Sugarbowl Trail is similar to Raven Lake: it begins with a hike through the forest up the northern slope of Sugarbowl mountain. However, even with the switch backs, Sugarbowl is noticeably more steep than Raven Lake!
Once we reached the end of the forest, we hit the lightly wooded sub-alpine ridge and… the snow! Which was both exciting, as we had not seen snow for months, and daunting, as it was surprisingly deep.
We had hiked from where it was Fall, in the forest, and arrived in winter on the ridge. The transformation was so fast, it was akin to Lucy’s first steps through the wardrobe, past the fur coats, and into snowy Narnia.
Discussing how we really needed snow shoes, we stopped for lunch in the snow, less nervous about bears smelling our food than we had been for months.
But once we were back in the forest cruising down the switch backs, we were reminded that it was, at least at lower elevations, still Fall when we heard a loud, low growl.
We knew that, unless disturbed, bears tend to avoid humans. Particularly bears who have chosen to make their day-bed near a trail which humans use, because they tend to be familiar with the smell and sound of humans passing by.
This meant that the growl was most likely for Nova, who had probably disturbed the bear as she ran through the undergrowth.
We were all immediately alert. If the bear was particularly annoyed it would chase Nova, Nova would run to us and we would be in trouble.
We could not tell from the growl whether it was a black bear or, more concerning, a Grizzly bear. Bear sprays ready, we hoped, without saying it, that it had let matters go with just a warning growl or that if it had chased after Nova, it was not a Grizzly.
Seconds went by slowly as we held our sprays ready to fire and called out to the bear to let it know where we were and give it some warning of our presence.
Thankfully, Nova returned with no bear behind her and we were able to cautiously walk on, continuing to call out lots.
This was, in many ways, a more nerve wracking experience than when we came face to face with a Black bear and her cub; partly because this forest is home to the more volatile Grizzly Bear.
Also because, we were dealing with an animal we knew was there, but could not see. Meanwhile, the bear’s superior and precise ability to detect scent, meant that it would have known exactly where we were and was, quite possibly, watching us from the bush.
There is nothing quite like a brush with danger to put a spring in your step and get you down a mountain! It was also a evocative way to end our Fall hiking season, before the snow made many of the forestry service roads in-passable and we switched hiking boots for skis.
. . .
Join us on another hike…
Nature on steroids: four days through-hiking the Berg Lake Trail
Enjoying the extreme: Snow shoeing Hudson Bay Mountain in the depth of winter
The Skyline Trail: When it pays to ignore the warnings and head to the mountains
. . .
West Country Wandering 