Garibaldi Park - Rubble Double
The first few weeks of July has seen some glorious weather, if you like +30C degree. Nothing but sunshine and blue skies. As much as I enjoy the warmth of the sunshine, this heat does not make for great running weather. You overheat quickly, become dehydrated even faster and your body grinds to a halt. Pretty hard to feel too tired with views like this. Beautiful trail coming into Cheakamus Lake. Ahhh Black Tusk never gets old! Well July 12th was the day I decided to attempt the “Rubble Double”; the forecast was for sunshine and +34C. The Rubble Double is a run through the beautiful Garibaldi Provincial Park that takes you from the Rubble Creek entrance to the Cheakamus Lake entrance at which point you then you turn around and go back the way you came. In total the run is approximately 47 km with 2300m elevation gain. I was able to convince my friend Adam to come along for the full distance. It was also nice to have a few friends come along for the first 12km, Hailey and her fiance Eduardo. It was Eduardo’s first time in Canada and with it being only his second day in the country it was a privilege to be able to share such a beautiful part of the country with him. Coming over the Cheakamus River. Adam setting up for the perfect GoPro shot. Adam doubled over in laughter? In 2012 I ran the Rubble Creek route, one way, solo.That was 2 years ago and I know I am much fitter and have much more endurance now, so I had been thinking about doing the Double for a while especially since it would be good training to get another 50’ish km run in so soon after my last one. Beautiful and green. Stoked! Keep laughing through the pain. If you have ever hiked or ran this trail then you know that no matter which side you start on you have 6-7 km’s of steady climbing at the start and if doing the double then you have a another big climb thrown in right at the halfway mark. The first climb into the park felt like a breeze, the stoke and banter was high and everyone was having fun. When we dropped Hailey and Eduardo at their chosen destination, they were heading to Panoramo Ridge, Adam and I continued on. Eduardo later told me that they could hear us laughing long after they couldn’t actually see us anymore, so that was a good sign! We were running and we were happy! First aid station. Beauty trail. Classic GoPro face! Essentially we...
Acorns, Part 2: Starvation Lake
< Acorns, Part 1: Coho Park and the Smoke Bluffs The term “maturity” is pretty odd when you think about it, especially in relation to modern, westernized, civilization. What is it to be a mature individual nowadays? There is a societal pressure to achieve maturity. To be called immature is an insult. Myself and Spring felt this pressure in Ireland. We felt a pressure from our peers and elders to secure stable income, to be responsible in our choices and move towards the expected goal of getting a mortgage, maybe having a child and settling down. When we left Ireland behind, and left everyone we knew behind, something changed. It was like that pressure valve to conform to our culture’s definition of maturity was released. A weight was lifted from our shoulders. We were no longer keeping up with anybody’s expectations. When I was a child my mother would send us out of the house during the Summer months, to get out of her hair but also to give her time to clean up our mess. With those long days free to do what I wished I’d usually, along with some friends, try and find some woods or fields nearby to explore. I was always curious, like most Children I believe, of the places that Man hadn’t seen fit to manicure. With age and the burden of responsibility I’d forgotten this curiosity, but now, In Canada, with no peers to speak of, I felt it rekindled. I don’t think people ever truly “grow up”. I don’t accept that we pass a rubicon where we have to lose touch with what motivated us as children. I feel we choose to suppress those “childish” inclinations for ones we have been told make more sense for adults. Similar to my youth, in Canada now I’d see wild places and wonder what’s hidden behind those trees or where that river flows to or what I could look out on if I was standing on that shimmering white summit. I didn’t care if exploring those places would advance my career, or lead to financial stability, or allow me to keep up with the Jones’, I was driven by pure curiosity. Shortly after our first few forays out on trails in 2010, mentioned in the first part of this series, we started looking at some trail maps for the vicinity around our home in Squamish, BC. At that time we didn’t have internet, we’d planned it that way so as to give ourselves a break from needing to be connected all the time. We’d use free wifi at the local Starbucks occasionally but in general we...
Mount Corriveau: We, like, totally did it!
Last Summer I worked for a few months as a Landscape Gardener. Daily we’d go to these palatial mansions in West Vancouver and preen these extravagant, terraced gardens. At one such house I noted that their garden terraces dropped down from their front windows so that the people living their couldn’t even see their own front garden. Across the street from them was another house whose occupants did not care how their garden looked. There was an old car, rusting and broken, a dog tied up running in circles, patches of weeds and dirt and states of general disrepair. But it didn’t matter, their view was of all the terraced gardens across from them. They had the best view on the street and everyone else around them was paying us gardeners to give it to them. In many ways I’ve seen parallels to this while in the mountains. The dramatic, jagged peaks, with impressive prominences beckon the Mountaineer to climb, but once on their summits we lose sight of the mountain below us. While I am drawn to climb to the prominent summits, at least once a year I also try to visit and camp on an obscure summit that doesn’t stand out in its own right, but has the best seat in the house to view another mountain, or range, nearby. I began this tradition near the end of 2012 when we camped on Panorama Ridge. An unimpressive ridge with a minor bump for a summit that has the best view in Garibaldi Park. After that I began scouring reports for other, similarly unimpressive peaks with impressive views. Last year in 2013 we visited Empetrum Peak, a knolly bump with a view across to the dramatic Black Tusk. Camping on Panorama Ridge The Black Tusk from Empetrum On another trip last year, while scrambling to the summit of Welch Peak, I seen an impressive group of mountains near the horizon across from us. I asked others with me what they were and was told they were the Rexford group of mountains. While those jagged spires of rock drew my attention I was also interested in a ridge I could see that ran parallel to them. This ridge appeared to have an amazing vantage point across a valley to those striking peaks. I made a mental note to do some research about it later and possibly put it down as a viewpoint location for 2014. After a bit of research I found out that the high point on this obscure ridge was actually a named summit, Mount Corriveau. After a bit more research I found some information about a...
Tears on Mount Harvey
A few weeks ago we did a popular North Shore hike that we had previously done for the first time in 2011, Mount Harvey. It has spectacular scenery, on one side of the ridge the Pacific ocean with a chain of islands stretching out as far as the eye can see , and on the other side a sea of beautiful coastal mountains with no end in sight. But it wasn’t just the fantastic scenery that had me reminiscing on this trip. This years summit shot! View of the Lions Stealthy selfie The first time I hiked Mount Harvey I was training for my first road marathon. I was following a strict 5 day a week running plan and feeling the effects on my body and mind. I was feeling overwhelmed with the training and the physical toll it was taking on my body. It was important to me to still be able to train for the marathon and to also be able to spend time in the mountains, so I felt the need to always be pushing myself. That day in April 2011 proved to be the breaking point for me. The day prior to the hike I had run an 18km training run, which at the time was a long distance for me. I felt tired starting the hike, but felt pretty good, until we started the uphill section. I slowed down to a snails pace and Leigh shot past me, making his way up the hill. Looking up the steep incline,allowing the tiredness to weigh so heavy on my mind and body and watching Leigh move in a seemingly effortless way up the hill, proved to be too much. I stopped in my tracks overcome with frustration and feelings of not being able to continue. At that moment I felt so tired, so heavy with emotion that I could barely breathe. Leaning on a tree, out of sight of Leigh, I started to sob. I felt useless, exhausted and irritated with myself and my physical limitations. Feeling pretty sorry for myself, I said to myself, between sobbing breaths,“I can’t do this” “I’m too tired”. Taking in the view The smile before the meltdown Up, up and up It lasted a few minutes before I had to tell myself that no one feels sorry for me but me. I chose this and I can’t expect anyone to have sympathy for me. In my own words of tough love I needed to “suck it up buttercup”. So in that moment I had to make a decision, I wiped the tears from my eyes, composed myself and headed up towards...
