MOUNT ROBSON

11-13 July 2008 MOUNT ROBSON

On Friday 11th we left Jasper with its cool mountain climate. We travelled through the Yellowhead Pass and crossed into British Columbia, another gorgeous scenic drive, towards Valemount. It all looks so flat and lifeless on the map (to me) with its little lines and dots and colours and words, but how the landscape finds itself on this remarkable earth is truly marvelous and full of surprises.
Shortly before Valemount we stopped at the Mount Robson Visitors’ Centre and this was the start of an adventure to top all that had gone before. Mount Robson is the highest peak in the Canadian Rockies (3954m), and we could see it rising up behind the windows of the Visitors’ Centre, its peak hidden in clouds. How much further up could it possibly reach?

Mount Robson also featured in a story I’d been told but couldn’t really imagine. Alan had climbed with a group to the very summit several years ago. Many groups of experienced climbers that have attempted the final ice-covered peak have had to turn back because of weather conditions. But Al’s group was “lucky” and they made the final climb in the dark so that the ice was good and frozen. They spent 5 minutes at the top admiring the sunrise and then before the sun could hit the face, climbed back down, onto terra firma, and that, of course, is the ultra simplified version.

The next morning we got up early and were on the Berg Lake Trail at 8am. This trail would take us some of the way up the mountain. It meant a lot to Eric and me to know that Al had climbed this mountain and I felt his presence that day as we trod the path.

We followed the route of the crashing Robson River crossing several narrow suspension bridges along the way, and here I could really feel the power and volume of the rushing, bubbling water.
The first 4.5 km was rolling and went through forest. Due to the height of the mountain, the rainfall here is very high, about 630mm a year, and the trees, Red Cedar, Western Spruce, Paper Birch and Douglas Maple, are massive, especially the wide-girthed cedar and spruce which are hundreds of feet tall. The soft scent of the cedar was a delicacy for our noses, and the green mossy carpet on the forest floor covered everything, old tree stumps, fallen logs, huge rocks and smaller boulders. It was cloudy or lightly drizzling most of the day, which made for pleasant hiking. When we came out of the forest we had reached Kinney Lake, with its unique and characteristic aqua blue water.
The trail took us all along the one side of the sizeable lake up and down and in and out of trees.
Then the real steep climb began.
We hiked toward and into the Valley of a Thousand Falls. Eric and I began to count down as in 999, 998, 997…and then quit that and took it on faith. Cliffs rose up on either side of both us, and the Robson River, and waterfalls dropped thousands of feet into the valley below. At one point the path became rough with loose rock and then we were on a very narrow steep path with cliffs falling straight down below us on one side and rising up vertically on the other. Ominous signs said “Warning – Beware of Falling Rock”. I concentrated on thinking happy thoughts… “beauty, kindness…etc” but I couldn’t help but be aware of the paradoxical strength and fragility of the Rockies which are constantly changing shape, being weathered and kinda falling down in places.
Many people who walk this trail come with full backpacks and camp in designated sites along the route. At the 11km mark we walked through one such area where we noticed bear poles (for hanging your food up on) and tents dotted about and people eating, washing up and doing their thing. Interestingly enough the language we heard most spoken was German, or English with German accents. Even the outhouses told you not to put garbage into the vault in English and German.
At White Falls the Robson River does what you’d expect and makes a very fine and mighty splashy spectacle.
Further up we came to the Falls of the Pool. Half way down this falls a pot hole has formed and a small blue pool can be seen seemingly unstirred by the force of water crashing down around it. A bench had been well positioned and we were able to take in the stunning view across the valley to the double falls, and catch our breath at the same time. So much water!!
After approximately 16 km we reached an even more spectacular waterfall aptly named Emperor Falls. Part way down the fall there must be some rocks that jut out quite a way because there the water is propelled out with such enormous force that the spray shoots into the air and far across the valley, reaching us.
Our plan had been to walk as far as Emperor Falls, but along the way we had spoken to some people who had been camping at Berg Lake and they encouraged us to continue. The days are long and we’d made an early start so we kept on going, eager to see the lake and get closer to the final ascent.
The last stretch before the lake was along a scree slope and a flat rocky wetland, not that easy to walk on but a pleasant respite from the up hill climb. The lake gradually came into view, but even more amazing to me was the sight of the summit of Mount Robson, clearly visible now, and 2 of its massive blue-green glaciers, Mist Glacier and Berg Glacier. These glaciers and a 3rd one, Robson Glacier feed the lake and we could see chunks of ice floating in the lake like mini icebergs. As we were approachng we heard one of the glaciers give a major cree…eeek!!!
Finally we sat down on the rocky lakeshore, and ate our lunch marveling at the sight and wanting to fully absorb the wonder and drama of it all.
But we didn’t rest for long, it was now 2.15, the weather looked unpredictable and we had the long walk down ahead of us. So after less than half an hour we turned ourselves around and went down down down. Our weary bones arrived all in one piece at the parking lot of the trailhead at 7pm.
It had been an 11 hour day!!!

We camped for 2 nights at Canoe River campground, which had a hill billy feel to it. Once a year, in late August, a rodeo event is held here and our trailer was facing a large enclosed grassy circle. An impressive gateway to the circle said “WELCOME Y’ALL” and there were black wooden cutouts of bucking broncos and lasso wielding cowboys. On Saturday night (the day of our walk) a dance was held in a circus-like huge tent and we heard country and western music late into the night. I wish we’d had some party energy. I would like to have checked it out.