British Columbia – Page 2 – The (Mostly) True Adventures of Lupe

Mount Hitchcock, British Columbia, Canada (9-3-23)

Days 42 thru 44 of Lupe’s 2nd Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacation to Canada & Alaska!

9-2-23, 8:25 AM, 54ºF – A rest and recuperation day. Lupe was back at the ridge with the big view of Mount Minto (6,913 ft.) and the N end of Atlin Lake, enjoying a romp through her favorite woods. Keeping an eye out for the strange, abandoned camp the Carolina Dog had discovered in these woods last year, SPHP spotted it again. The old camp was still a terrible mess.

Parked along the S edge of the ridge, the RAV4 was fully exposed to a 20 mph SSW wind. Lupe spent the rest of the morning inside, snoozing on her pink blanket while an endless procession of big clouds sailed by. In the afternoon, she was more alert. SPHP provided a Busy Rib Hide to munch on. Every now and then, Lupe dashed out to bark at a squirrel before returning a few minutes later. Still the wind blew!

And then rather suddenly, late in the afternoon, it completely died away.

Loopster! How about another romp in the woods?

Of course, Lupe was all for it, but this time SPHP had an ulterior motive. While Lupe roamed as she pleased, SPHP searched for the abandoned camp again. Didn’t take long to find it.

Here again, SPHP? Do you have some kind of strange fascination with this place?

In a way, yes, I do, Loop. It’s a travesty what a mess this joint is, and in the middle of your favorite woods, too! We’re going to clean it up.

Half a dozen tarps had evidently been used to construct a makeshift shelter with long sticks serving as the framework. Most of these tarps were in an advanced state of disintegration. However, finding a couple that were still in relatively decent condition, SPHP began piling as much trash on them as possible. Plastic bottles, metal cans, an old burn barrel, sections of pipe used as a flue, the disintegrating tarps, and more.

Once that was done, SPHP organized the fallen framework poles in a neat stack.

There! All tidied up. What’ya think, Loop?

98% better, SPHP, if we could make all this junk on the tarps disappear.

Fully intend to, Looper. Let’s get started!

The weather was changing. Completely overcast now, it began to rain as Lupe followed SPHP during multiple trips lugging the junk-laden tarps to the road where the trash could be stuffed into the RAV4, then back to the abandoned camp again for more.

There was a rest area 4.5 miles S along Atlin Highway No. 7. Removing all of the accumulated debris required several trips in the RAV4. It was raining hard, and a couple of rest area trash bins were stuffed full by the time the project was over and done with, but the terrible mess in Lupe’s favorite woods was history.

9-3-23, 7:28 AM, 32ºF – Listening to the rain late into the night, SPHP had grown despondent over what it meant for the American Dingo’s chances of climbing a mountain today, but morning brought both another change of fortune, and an unexpected shock. Except for a big cloud billowing up from Atlin Lake, the sky was clear! And that wasn’t all.

New snow on the mountains, SPHP!

New snow on **Mount Minto** (R). Photo looks S.

Wow! So there is, Looper. No wonder my paws got cold last night.

SPHP got out to heat up a can of chili for breakfast. Sure enough, last night’s rain was frozen on the RAV4. A lovely, crisp, early September morning! Probably going to warm up nicely.

This is going to be a great day, Loopster!

Can we go on another sniff in the woods after breakfast, SPHP?

Oh, sure! Then it’s on to Mount Hitchcock (5,886 ft.)!

After breakfast, Lupe did get her favorite woods romp. Returning to the old camp, it looked so much better than before.

Back at the **abandoned camp**. Photo looks SSE.

9-3-23, 10:32 AM, 42ºF – Although just a dusting, the season’s first new snow added a dramatic touch to the mountains as Lupe set out. SPHP had parked the RAV4 0.5 km S of a sign for Pat Creek at a wide flat area across Atlin Highway No. 7 from a couple of side roads. Since the closest side road was only 500 feet S, that’s the way the Carolina Dog went.

Snow on **Black Mountain** (R) from **Atlin Highway No. 7**. Photo looks NNE.

Starting up the **S side road** (R). **N end of Atlin Lake** (L). Photo looks N.

The side road quickly brought Lupe to a large, pancake flat gravel yard. SPHP was a little surprised to see that the N side road led up here, too.

At the **gravel yard**. Photo looks WSW.

First Mount White, and now Mount Hitchcock. Does a mountain have to have a highway maintenance gravel yard to use as a trailhead before we’ll climb it now, SPHP?

Absolutely, Sweet Puppy! It’s our new policy.

Marvelous! So where does the trail start, SPHP? Just like at Mount White, I’m not seeing it. This time we seem to be fresh out of generator sheds for it to be hidden behind, too.

No trail that I’m aware of, Loopster.

No trail? Mountains with trails would be a better new policy, SPHP. You’re telling me that Mount Hitchcock is going to be a total bushwhack?

Not entirely. Once we get above bush line, it won’t be. As far as where to start, choose any spot you like, Looper, and we’ll see how it goes.

Crossing the gravel yard, Lupe plunged SE into the trees.

After passing through a dense band of alders, the American Dingo found herself in a jungle that looked like the forest primeval. Big spruce trees towered among moss-covered boulders and a variety of bushes. Thick moss also carpeted the entire floor of this wilderness.

In the **forest primeval**. Photo looks SE.

What now, SPHP?

Beats me, Loopster. Just start climbing, I guess.

The jungle trek was very slow going as Lupe explored her way higher through a dank forest choked with trees, bushes with long horizontal branches, and mossy boulders. Within 15 minutes, despite not getting far at all, she reached the first of a series of small bedrock benches. These benches ran along walls ranging from only a few to 15 feet tall.

On **one of the first benches**. Photo looks E.

Most of the benches slanted down toward the S or SW, serving as useful ramps higher. Along each ramp, Lupe had to keep looking for a way to scramble up to the next ramp above. It usually wasn’t hard to find one. The benches and ramps kept getting both taller and wider as Lupe kept climbing. With so much exposed bedrock around, the forest thinned out, making travel easier.

A **bench with a slant**. Photo looks ESE.

Scrambling among the ramps and benches was fun, rather like exploring a maze. Some provided views of Atlin Lake. If Mount Minto hadn’t been hidden among clouds, Lupe would have seen it, too. Fortunately, even as the rock walls grew in size, she was always able to find a route higher.

By the time Lupe reached the end of the benches, she’d already gained hundreds of feet of elevation. Ahead, the sun was just peeping over a much higher ridge, shining down a steep, 200 foot tall rock slide.

Gads! Let’s avoid all this steep talus, if we can, Looper. This next hill or ridge, or whatever it is, looks highest toward the S, so try angling NE.

After scrambling across part of the rock slide, Lupe managed to get N of it, and back into the forest. Climbing somewhat more steeply again, she headed E, soon encountering one of the largest mushrooms growing out of a rotting stump that SPHP had ever seen. In fact, there were several big mushrooms, all of which looked incredibly healthy.

Back in the **mossy forest**. Photo looks E.

At first, the rockslide-evading maneuver seemed to work, but soon the terrain began steepening further. Apparently Lupe was now on the S side of a deep valley. Attempting to continue E while gradually gaining elevation, the slope kept getting steeper, repeatedly forcing the Carolina Dog higher.

You’re doing wonderful, Looper, but this traverse is getting to be next to impossible for me. I’ve got to get above it! Looks to me like there’s better terrain not all that much higher than where we’re at.

Whatever you like, SPHP. Go for it!

Heh. Easier said than done! SPHP didn’t actually like this scramble at all. The worst of it wasn’t all that tall, maybe a 20 or 30 foot high section spent desperately clinging to small trees, and whatever bits of bedrock were available to prevent a fall, yet SPHP made it up in one piece. By means of some black Dingo magic SPHP never saw in operation, Lupe made it up unassisted, too.

Above the short, scary scramble, the American Dingo kept climbing in open forest on more manageable terrain, eventually reaching a rocky spot with an encouraging view.

Thar she blows, Loopster!

Is that the top of Mount Hitchcock (5,886 ft.), SPHP? It’s still a long way!

Yes. We’re just getting started, Sweet Puppy.

**Top of Mount Hitchcock** (Center). Photo looks SE.

The climb went on. Another rock provided a view of Black Mountain, where last night’s snow was starting to melt away. Finally reaching a relatively level spot with a view of the N end of Atlin Lake, both Lupe and SPHP were ready for a break.

**Black Mountain** (L of Center). Photo looks NNE.

Taking a break. **Atlin Lake** below. Photo looks NW.

As slowly as things had gone so far, the break had to be a short one. Lupe was soon climbing SE again. She was definitely making progress, as evidenced by the constantly improving view of Mount Hitchcock.

Making progress toward **Mount Hitchcock** (L of Center). Photo looks SE.

The **still snowy NW face** (Center). Photo looks SE.

9-3-23, 2:28 PM – Lupe was still making decent progress when she came to a local high point. Despite the view of Mount Hitchcock being better than ever here, SPHP was immediately concerned. A cliff was directly ahead, blocking further advance. Peering into an 80 foot deep valley filled with yellow aspens, the drop was obviously impassable where the Carolina Dog had reached it.

**Mount Hitchcock** (R of Center) from the **first local high point**. Photo looks SE.

We’ll have to find a way around this drop, Loop. Let’s try going S.

Sniffing her way S, Lupe steadily lost elevation, quickly coming to the best view yet of a big section of Atlin Lake.

We can turn E here, SPHP. We’re past the cliff.

Going E down an easily manageable slope of young yellow aspens, Lupe lost only another 40 or 50 feet of elevation before reaching a saddle full of moss. Starting back up again after crossing it, she soon arrived at the bottom of a nearly 200 foot high cliff.

Scooching N along the base of the cliff, the American Dingo succeeded in getting beyond it, and up onto a long ridge of bedrock with a second high point near its N end. Looking W from here, the first high point was back in sight again, only marginally lower, and not all that far away. A terrific view of Mount Minto (6,913 ft.) was beyond it.

Crossing the **mossy saddle**. Photo looks SSW.

On the **bedrock ridge**, the **second local high point**. **First high point** (R), **Mount Minto** (L). Photo looks WNW.

**Mount Minto** (Center). Photo looks WNW with help from the telephoto lens.

The fact that this bedrock ridge even had a N end was not good news.

Dang, Loop! I was hoping this ridge would connect to something. It’s a dead end with another cliff, and another little valley in our way!

It’s not a straight drop. I think we can get down there, SPHP.

A quick search revealed a spot where Lupe was right. The Carolina Dog had no problem getting down the slope. By clinging to small trees, SPHP also managed to get down safely. The entire descent was only around 65 feet. At the bottom, Lupe found herself in a narrow valley full of spruce and moss.

Down in the **narrow valley.** Photo looks N.

Climbing E out of this valley, Lupe promptly reached a third high point. Happily, the 65 foot descent beyond this one wasn’t steep enough to be an issue. Coming a fourth high point, only a minor dip was beyond it. A gradual rise now led to a flat, dripping wet forest featuring a maze of open lanes of melting snow. No views at all here, except trees.

We can make some tracks now, SPHP!

Yeah, we better, too! I honestly had no idea how complex this terrain would be. We’ve chewed up a lot of time, Loopster.

Do we keep heading E here, SPHP?

Yes. We should come to a big lake, Loop. The plan is to head E for about a km along its S shore, then turn S to a ridge that will eventually lead us up the back side of Mount Hitchcock from the E or SE.

Sure sounds like the long way around, SPHP.

It is, Loopster, but according to the topo map, it ought to be the easiest way up.

Lupe was crossing an enormous saddle between Mount Hitchcock and Black Mountain. Continuing E, the terrain eventually sloped downhill. The forest was even denser and wetter here, yet aided by gravity and the American Dingo’s route finding skills, progress remained quite good.

The topo map showed open ground W of the lake Lupe was heading for. For some reason, SPHP had visions of firm, grassy terrain leading to a pebbled shore, and an open, dry forest similar to her favorite one back at the ridge with the view of Mount Minto and Atlin Lake, permitting a fun romp along the lake’s S shore. Just get to the lake, and everything would be fine!

The gradual descent through the wet forest seemed much longer than it should have been. When it finally came to an end, the scene ahead was not at all what SPHP had envisioned. The open ground W of the lake turned out to be a vast region of tussocks and waist high bushes, dotted with spindly, boreal spruce.

Oh, my gosh, Loop! It’s just a big bog! If I had any sense, I would have known it would be.

**Peak 5677** (L), **Mount Hitchcock** (R) from the **start of the bog**. Photo looks SE.

**Mount Hitchcock** (R of Center). Photo looks S.

Lupe persevered, splish-splashing through the tussocks and bushes all the way to the W end of the lake. The closer she got to it, the wetter and more full of tussocks the ground became. A well-defined shoreline was merely an illusion. The whole region near the lake was standing water. SPHP’s boots and socks were full of muck and completely water-logged.

The **unnamed lake** between **Mount Hitchcock** and **Black Mountain**. Photo looks E.

**Lupe** near the **lake**. Photo looks ENE.

Directly S, Mount Hitchcock loomed above all, so close now, yet suddenly seeming a nearly impossible objective. It had taken 6 hours just to get this far. SPHP stood in the swamp frozen with indecision and doubt.

We made it to the lake, SPHP! What are you doing?

Having a mid-adventure crisis, I guess. This really isn’t going very well. Seems like I’ve seriously underestimated Mount Hitchcock, Loop.

Meaning what, exactly? Are you thinking of turning back, SPHP?

I’m not far from it, Loopster. There’s no way we’re going to slog through another km of this bog along the S shore of this lake, and then circle all the way around to come up at Mount Hitchcock from the SE. At this rate, it will be dark before we even get there.

Too steep and too much talus to go straight up the N face, SPHP. Want to call it, or try the NW ridge?

Plenty of talus there, too, but let’s try the NW ridge, Loopster. It’s so much shorter than my original plan, and really doesn’t look that bad from here.

Turning SW, Lupe left the lake, heading for the deep green forest beyond the bog, the sky starting to cloud up a bit in that direction.

Heading for **Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge**. Photo looks SW.

This next part of the forest proved snowy and wet, with the additional charm of being full of deadfall. One obnoxious obstacle after another! Not terrible, but tiresome work. Yet Lupe kept at it, finally managing to reach the lower end of Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge. Her ascent began immediately, climbing SE amid a mix of trees, bushes, and boulders.

With snow making some of the rocks slippery, SPHP worried that Lupe might get injured due to a slip or missed jump. She never did. As usual, the American Dingo climbed with confidence, scrambling circles around SPHP.

**Starting the ascent**. Photo looks SE.

**Snow** made some spots slick. Photo looks SSE.

A 1,400 foot ascent soon turned into a mostly talus rock hop. Lupe only needed a single boost from SPHP, and that was merely to save time. She could have easily found a way around that difficult spot on her own.

The ascent wasn’t all talus. Halfway up, Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge rose in a series of big humps, with relatively flat regions of tundra and low bushes between much steeper talus climbs. These regions provided opportunities for short breaks to rest and admire the incredible views.

A **big easy stretch** between talus climbs. Photo looks SE.

Taking a break. **N end of Atlin Lake** (L), **Black Mountain** (far R). Photo looks NNW.

At the top of a lane of tundra during a **steep talus climb**. Photo looks SE.

Still a **long way to go**. Photo looks SE.

9-3-23, 7:18 PM – The sunny, comfortably warm conditions down at the lake were but a memory now. From out of the WSW, a chill breeze was stirring, dropping the temperature fast as it spread high-floating clouds across the sky.

Although the ascent of Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge had otherwise been going smoothly, as usual SPHP had been dreadfully slow, not only due to the talus, but also due to a certain weariness setting in. Scrambling up one talus field after another, only to have others keep appearing above, even Lupe was feeling it.

Reaching tundra again at the top of yet another hump, a glance off to the W spoke of a growing concern. Hovering in the gray sky over by Mount Minto, the sun was no longer all that far from the horizon.

**Mount Minto** (L of Center) beyond **Atlin Lake**. Photo looks W.

**N end of Atlin Lake**. **Mount Minto** (L edge). Photo looks NW.

Sheesh! We’re running out of time, Loopster!

I know, SPHP, but we’ll get there. I’m feeling mighty tired, though. Can we please take another break?

Sure, but only a short one. How about some beef jerky, Loop? Should give us an energy boost.

A short break, and the ascent continued. Couldn’t be that much farther! The swampy lake Lupe had visited began coming into view. Going over to an edge offering a better look, the lake filled nearly the entire valley between Mount Hitchcock and Black Mountain (5,738 ft.).

**N end of Atlin Lake** (L), **Black Mountain** (R). Photo looks NNW.

**NE end of the lake** (Center). Photo looks NE.

**Nearly the entire lake**. **Black Mountain** (L). Photo looks NNE.

Quite a view, Loop. Still some more up to go, but it’s beginning to look like we’re actually getting somewhere.

Let’s finish it, SPHP!

Still took a while, but the talus fields were no longer as steep, making life easier. Lupe finally reached a patch of tundra where it looked like the summit couldn’t be much higher.

Approaching the **summit ridge**. Photo looks SW.

Almost there, Loop. Terrific job, Sweet Puppy!

I’m expecting great things, SPHP!

Near the **NE end of Mount Hitchcock’s summit ridge**. Photo looks SW.

9-3-23, 8:49 PM, 38ºF, Mount Hitchcock (5,886 ft.) – In fading light, and a chilly, 10 mph WSW breeze, Lupe stood on the highest rocks near the NE end of a rocky summit ridge. She wasn’t quite at the true summit yet, but not far from it. A visibly higher point was a short distance SW along the ridgeline.

After all this effort, Mount Hitchcock didn’t disappoint. The views were spectacular!

Let’s tag the true summit, Loop, then have a look around.

The 250 foot long ridge ran NE/SW. Reaching the apparent true summit, an even higher dark spire was now visible clear over at the far SW end.

Take a picture, SPHP! We’re at the natural true summit. That spire is just a cairn.

At **Mount Hitchcock’s true summit**. Photo looks SW.

Although the views were incredible from any point along the summit ridge, the completely unexpected 6 or 7 foot tall cairn at the SW end was clearly sitting at Mount Hitchcock’s premier viewpoint. That was the place to be!

**Atlin Lake** from the **cairn**. Photo looks SSW.

Upon arriving at the cairn, desperately tired, Lupe promptly laid down.

Resting by the **cairn**. **Mount Minto** (R). Photo looks W.

Congratulations, Loopster! May I shake your paw? Mount Hitchcock! I can scarcely believe we’re here. Never dreamed it would take us so long.

Lupe shook paws with SPHP.

A chocolate coconut bar would sure help about now, SPHP.

In a few minutes, Looper. Let’s get some photos while we’ve still got light.

Due N, over at Black Mountain (5,738 ft.), last night’s snow appeared to have entirely melted away. Nearly 1,900 feet below, only the swampy W end of the lake N of Mount Hitchcock was visible from the cairn.

**Black Mountain** (L). **Mount Hitchcock’s true summit** (R). Photo looks NE.

Peak 5677, Mount Hitchcock’s somewhat lower twin, was 2 km due E. Lowlands and mostly smaller mountains were beyond it. Looking SE, Mount Carter (5,827 ft.) stood out well beyond the ridge connecting Peak 5677 and Mount Hitchcock.

**Ridge connecting Peak 5677 and Mount Hitchcock** (Center) in foreground, with **Mount Carter** (Center) beyond. Photo looks SE.

The most indisputably stupendous views of all, though, were of Atlin Lake and the mountains around it. Incredibly long, Atlin Lake stretched from Birch Mountain (6,765 ft.) and Atlin Mountain (6,722 ft.) to the S, all the way to it’s N end well beyond Black Mountain. The S end of Little Atlin Lake, and Mount White (5,016 ft.), which Lupe had been to only 2 days ago, were in sight even farther N.

**Atlin Lake** from **Mount Hitchcock**. Photo looks SSW.

**Atlin Lake** (L), **Little Atlin Lake** (Center), **Black Mountain** (R). Photo looks N.

**Mount Minto** (R of Center). Photo looks W.

Lupe was thrilled when SPHP finally sat down facing E, away from the cold wind. After sharing the promised chocolate coconut bar, a Cliff cool mint bar, and beef jerky, she immediately curled up on SPHP’s lap and closed her eyes. Already wearing all layers brought along, SPHP hugged the weary Carolina Dog to warm her up while gazing out at the world from Mount Hitchcock.

Despite the tremendous views, SPHP’s thoughts were troubled. It had taken an insane amount of time to get here, more than 10 hours! Night was coming on. Soon darkness would envelope this wild, remote land. The WSW wind felt cold, and was clearly driving darker clouds this way. Snowed last night. The temperature was plunging up here. Maybe it would snow again? Rain might be even worse! Other than SPHP’s boots, Lupe and SPHP had both dried out in the breeze on the way up Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge. Getting soaking wet again now that it was cold would be awful. SPHP at least had the red rain jacket, but Lupe had no protection at all …

Lupe! Poor Lupe! She was so tired, had been so valiant, and had earned a long rest. Feeling incredibly cruel, a mere 20 minutes after arriving on Mount Hitchcock, SPHP woke the exhausted American Dingo up.

Loopster! We’ve got to get out of here!

SPHP, I feel like I just closed my eyes! Is summit hour over already? How can it be?

I’m so sorry, Looper. Your summit hour isn’t anywhere close to over yet, but we can’t stay. We’ve overdone it. It’s all my fault, but we have to go.

Lupe stood there in shocked disbelief after being pushed off SPHP’s lap. Go, yes! But go where? SPHP had a look down Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge, back the way Lupe had come up.

**Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge** (Center & R). Photo looks NW.

Didn’t look bad at all. SPHP considered. Yeah, and what about doing it all again in the dark while exhausted? That long talus descent, the wet forest full of deadfall, the mucky march through the bog, another dark forest, those crazy steep-sided minor high points separated by valleys, that scary little scramble, finding a way through the benches and ramps, down to the boulders and primeval forest.

Oh, Loop! What have I gotten us into? Let’s have a look S. Maybe we can go down the SW face?

**Mount Hitchcock’s S ridge** (foreground). Photo looks S.

I don’t know, Looper. Can’t really see the SW face from here, but this looks better to me.

There’s a big flat area that must be tundra where the ridge starts turning toward Peak 5677, SPHP. Doesn’t look hard to get that far. You’re the one with the map. What does it say from there?

Hard to know, Loopster. Might be a SW ridge we can follow? May be fine, then again, maybe not. In truth, once we start heading down from that flat spot you’ve pointed out, the map doesn’t look a whole lot different than the way we came up.

Light was fading fast. Like it, or not, decision time!

S, my dearest, most faithful friend! Onward! Puppy, ho!

9-3-23, 9:53 PM – The S slope went very well. Now down at the broad saddle where the ridge to Peak 5677 began curling E, Lupe stood in deepening twilight as a harvest moon rose beyond her.

Down at the **saddle**. **Peak 5677** (R). Photo looks ENE.

So far, so good, Loop. Let’s have a look at the SW face.

Heading over to the rounded SW side of the saddle, the news was good. Mostly tundra with some rocks mixed in, a huge, uniformly steep slope dropped many hundreds of feet into the gloom. A yawning black region lurked far below, well beyond the point where any detail could be seen.

That must be the forest, SPHP.

Yup. Well, this first part will be easy enough. Let’s lose as much elevation as we can, as fast as we can, Looper.

Little flashlight and poles in paw, SPHP, started down the slope, Lupe roaming at will. Another 500 feet of elevation was quickly and easily lost, putting the Carolina Dog 750 feet below Mount Hitchcock’s summit. A promising start, but midnight found her on rock slides, or thrashing lost among dense bushes chest high on SPHP, miserable due to lack of sleep, and continually begging SPHP to stop.

9-4-23, the wee hours – Weary as well, SPHP did stop, quite often, but never for long. Feeding Lupe the rest of her Taste of the Wild, then bits of beef jerky to keep her energy level up, the downward plunge always resumed within a few minutes. Even this late, a faint light was always in the N, just enough to reveal what looked like rain to the S. Every now and then, SPHP felt a little mist.

Could have stopped longer to let Lupe rest, but fear of the weather, and a general sense that it was better to keep moving, no matter how slowly, to stay warm kept SPHP pressing on. No doubt hoping her continued good behavior would eventually earn her mercy and respite, the Carolina Dog was a real trooper whenever on the move, which was 90% of the time.

In the dark, on the steep slopes, SPHP’s progress was dismal, ghastly. Even with the little flashlight, there was no way to tell which way to go. Appearances were deceiving, and the dizzying black void was always threatening to cliff Lupe out. Endless bushes made it impossible to see the ground. Trying to handle the flashlight while clinging to bushes, and probing each step ahead for something solid with poles that often struck only air despite being extended to maximum length, was slow work.

Leaving Mount Hitchcock’s summit, SPHP had started a point to point descent GPS track. Rarely consulting it, because the iPhone’s battery was nearly shot, results were always almost unbelievably disappointing. An hour gone by, and only 100 feet lower! Despite continual effort, SPHP was barely creeping cautiously down the mountain.

Fortunately, Lupe came to no cliffs. No rock formations to negotiate. The slope was very steep, but uniform. Step by step, clinging to bushes that the poles kept getting caught in, fearful of dropping and losing the flashlight, SPHP inched continually lower, Lupe lost down in the jungle right behind.

9-4-23 – At 6:00 AM, the sky seemed a little lighter. By 7:30 AM, SPHP was able to put away the flashlight. Lupe was still at 4,250 feet. Able to see what was ahead now, and better able to use the poles and latch onto bushes for support, SPHP’s speed improved tremendously. Lupe was nearly down to the forest now, and soon in it.

Unfortunately, reaching the forest did not help the American Dingo’s cause much. The steep descent continued. Repeatedly trying to follow drainages lower, they were choked with alders with long, horizontal branches. Lupe needed to stay in the spruce forest, or at least along its edge, in order to get anywhere.

The steepness of the slope gradually abated. Lupe began coming to flat spots where the spruce forest was fairly open, permitting rapid surges ahead. However, they always seemed to lead to another alder-choked drainage. SPHP was standing on a thick, horizontal alder branch in one of these drainages, when the unexpected occurred.

Ow! Dang! Dang! Ow!

SPHP! Are you alright? What happened?

Ow! I’ve been better. Dang it all, Loopster! That branch I was standing on snapped, and I fell.

Are you hurt bad, SPHP? Is anything broken?

No, but somehow that branch delivered a heck of a blow to my L shin when it gave way, Looper. Nothing’s broken, though, just bruised.

Are you sure, SPHP?

Yeah, I’m sure. If I had a broken leg, I wouldn’t be able to stand. Ow! Dang! Give me a moment, Loopster, and we’ll keep going.

SPHP’s L shin throbbing with pain, the journey resumed. Heading SW through another relatively flat spruce forest, Lupe was still at nearly 4,000 feet when she came to the bedrock benches. From the edge of the first one, the Carolina Dog peered down on a very steep descent.

Wow. I don’t know, SPHP. The rock walls between these benches are a lot taller than where we came up.

Not many ramps visible, either, Loop.

Might as well try it, but initial impressions were correct. Lupe got only 50 feet lower before cliffing out. A sheer drop ran all along the bench she was on. No even remotely feasible way down to the bench below. It was another crushing blow. Still nearly 1,000 feet lower, Atlin Highway No. 7 was only a little over a km away.

Doesn’t matter how close we are to the highway, Looper. We can’t get to it from here.

Back up then, SPHP?

Yup. No other choice.

Regaining the lost 50 feet, SPHP checked the map. If Lupe was truly stuck here, it would be devastating. The thought of going back up and over Mount Hitchcock again was beyond the pale.

There’s a big valley S of here that goes W to the highway, Loop. Let’s see if we can get down to it.

Turning SE, Lupe made excellent time through a flat, open forest, soon coming to a small, mostly dried-up, swamp. Circling around the muck, within minutes she reached the edge of a long, steep slope of spruce and yellow aspens. No benches, ramps, or rock formations.

Looks doable, SPHP!

9-4-23, 11:36 AM – More than 25 hours after setting out from the RAV4, Lupe was snoozing on the forest floor. Unnoticed, a few yellow leaves fell on her whenever a momentary light breeze disturbed the aspens. Still at 3,100 feet, and 2 km from Atlin Highway No. 7, SPHP had called a halt here, finally convinced that getting to the highway was now merely a matter of time.

Barefoot, SPHP pulled up a pant leg. Scraped up a bit, a giant knot was already forming on the throbbing L shin, but nothing to be done about it. At times munching on trail mix, SPHP laid watching Lupe as leaves fluttered down. Two birds came by, other than that, just gnats and a few spiders. Fearing abandonment, the only times Lupe opened her eyes were when SPHP shifted position.

Oh, Lupe! I’ll never abandon you. Don’t you know that? We’ve been through so much together. It’s all turned out fine again. How lucky we are to be here in this beautiful, remote place.

This special moment near the end of both triumph and ordeal, in a quiet place never to be seen again, went on for an hour and a half.

Still quite a march back to Atlin Highway No. 7, losing hundreds of feet of elevation along the way. Turning W as soon as the terrain allowed, Lupe came to a big expanse of level forest, crossed it, and eventually reached a faint road. SPHP first thought this primitive road might be part of the old Telegraph Trail, but it wasn’t. The road continued down and down, finally dumping Lupe out at Atlin Highway No. 7, more than 3 miles S of the RAV4.

Lupe was very happy during the hike N along the highway, leading the way, confident that the RAV4 couldn’t be much farther. Heading for the ditches whenever traffic appeared, it was uphill nearly all the way, the only significant downhill stretch, the last 500 feet down to the faithfully waiting bright blue RAV4.

9-4-23, 3:50 PM, 57ºF – Unsurprisingly, the American Dingo leapt in, curled up on her pink blanket, and closed her eyes the moment SPHP opened the door. 29 hours and 18 minutes! Mount Hitchcock was a new personal record for a day hike. Oh, what a day it had been!

On **Mount Hitchcock**, British Columbia, Canada 9-3-23

Links:

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Lupe’s Scrollable GPS Track (Ascent) & Ascent Statistics

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Taiya Peak, Skagway Ranges, British Columbia, Canada (7-30-23)

Days 8 & 9 of Lupe’s 2nd Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacation to Canada & Alaska!

7-30-29, 7:30 AM, 59ºF, S Klondike Hwy No. 2, 4.5 miles S of Canadian Customs –

Not too bad, but it’s kind of smoky. Are we still going to do this, SPHP?

Disappointing, I know, Loopster. Really wish we had a super clear day for Taiya Peak (6,844 ft.), but it’s been on your list of possibilities for years. How many more chances are we ever going to get at it this far from home?

So, it’s a go, SPHP?

Might be now or never, Loop, so yes. Onward! Puppy, ho!

Her lofty objective already in sight, Lupe crossed the highway near the Summit Creek sign, then headed N across a rumpled region of bedrock, low bushes, scattered stunted evergreens, and tundra.

**Taiya Peak** (Center) from **S Klondike Hwy No. 2**. Photo looks NW.

Progress was excellent on this relatively easy terrain. Within just a few minutes, the American Dingo reached a small tarn.

See those 2 mountains we’re heading for, Looper?

Of course. What about them? We don’t have to go clear over there do we?

Heavens no! We only need to get up onto that lower ridge in front of them, Loopster, before turning toward Taiya Peak. However, that mountain on the L is Peak 1769m, and the one on the R is Fraser Peak (5,978 ft.).

Oh, I remember Fraser Peak, SPHP! The views were spectacular! That’s where we first got a good look at Taiya Peak, isn’t it?

That’s right, Loop. I knew you’d remember.

**Peak 1769m** (L) and **Fraser Peak** (R) from the first tarn. Photo looks NNW.

After passing the tarn, Lupe found her way over to Summit Creek’s rocky exposed floodplain. The trek N along the E side of the beautiful stream was easy and fun, but didn’t last long. The stream soon meandered over to the E side of the channel, forcing the Carolina Dog up onto a parallel wall of rock 20 feet higher.

Lupe was once again up on the tundra traveling over rumpled terrain when Summit Creek suddenly made a sharp turn NW away from the wall of rock, causing a search for a way to scramble back down next to the creek. Another short trek on the floodplain ensued before the stream forced Lupe back up onto an 8 foot high bank.

On the rock wall overlooking **Summit Creek**. **Peak 1769m** (L), **Fraser Peak** (R of Center). Photo looks NNW.

Below the wall where **Summit Creek** turned NW. Photo looks SSE.

Following **Summit Creek**. **Taiya Peak** (L), **Peak 1769m** (R). Photo looks NW.

**Taiya Peak** (Center) and **Summit Creek** from a particularly pretty spot. Photo looks NW.

Up on the bank, a level plain completely overgrown with willows waist to chest high on SPHP extended a good 250 meters N. Lupe couldn’t see a thing as she followed SPHP bushwhacking slowly through the willow thicket by whatever route seemed easiest. The situation didn’t improve much upon reaching a dense forest of evergreens on higher ground.

Heading NW toward the big ridge leading to Taiya Peak, Lupe managed to get high enough to break out of the trees onto a tundra slope, which made progress much easier. However, the tundra quickly led up to the top of a hill with a cliff edge and a big tarn below it blocking any further progress W.

Blocked by a cliff and a tarn. **Fraser Peak** (L of Center). Photo looks N.

**Taiya Peak** (L) from the same spot. **Ridge Lupe needed to get to** (R). Photo looks NW.

Down and around, SPHP?

No other choice, Loopster.

The hill Lupe was on wasn’t that big, so it didn’t take long to retreat NE down into a little valley, then climb up onto a reasonably flat stretch of tundra. However, quite a bit of forest was still ahead on the lower slopes of the ridge Lupe was trying to get to, and the terrain was fairly rugged with sudden drops and near vertical climbs.

Staying on tundra whenever possible, Lupe had to venture quite a long way N before turning WNW seemed feasible. Even then, progress was often extremely slow trying to force a way up some of the steep, densely forested slopes. However, Lupe finally managed to get up above most of the trees to a flat spot with a view looking back toward Summit Lake near S Klondike Hwy No. 2.

On a nice stretch of tundra. **Fraser Peak** (L). Photo looks N.

Above the worst of the forest looking back at **Summit Lake**. Photo looks S.

Amazing territory was now ahead. As the remaining trees thinned out, Lupe easily avoided them. Climbing WNW, Lupe explored a maze of bedrock benches, ramps, small streams, and hidden tarns. For a long way, it was possible to look back and still see the RAV4 as a bright blue dot parked in front of Summit Lake down by S. Klondike Hwy No. 2.

The higher the American Dingo went, the rockier the world became.

Exploring rugged territory near treeline. **Peak 1769m** (L of Center), **Fraser Peak** (R). Photo looks NNW.

One of the larger **tarns** (R). **Fraser Peak** (L). Photo looks N.

Entering the world of rock. Photo looks WNW.

7-30-23, 9:16 AM – Although the angle of incline was diminishing, Lupe never seemed to get to the top of the ridge she was climbing. However, upon reaching a giant boulder sitting on the bedrock that dominated the landscape, the top of Taiya Peak was back in view for the first time in a while now.

By the **giant boulder**. **Taiya Peak** (R). Photo looks WNW.

Continuing gradually higher beyond this boulder, more of Taiya Peak kept coming into sight. Lupe crossed many long gashes in the bedrock oriented perpendicular to her route, descending into each one before having to regain all her lost elevation and more climbing out again. Sometimes small streams were in these gashes, or even a bit of snow.

To the SW, the sharp pinnacle of Feather Peak (5,889 ft.) came into view with Mount Cleveland (6,362 ft.), Mount Carmack (6,808 ft.) and many other peaks grouped beyond it. Much closer, Peak 6053, which Lupe had climbed nearly 5 years ago, appeared toward the WSW.

More of **Taiya Peak** (R) comes into view. **Peak 6053** (L). Photo looks W.

**Mount Carmack** (Center) in the distance. **Feather Peak** (R), **Mount Cleveland** (far R). Photo looks SW.

Crossing one of the many gashes. Photo looks SW.

The scenery was incredible and exploring this amazing territory was enormous fun. Fortunately, the Luck of the Dingo was excellent. Lupe usually reached the gashes she came to near breaks in the cliff walls along each side, which made it relatively easy to scramble down into them and back out again.

Closing in on Taiya Peak, the gashes increased in size. Near the end, the Carolina Dog came to 3 gashes that were particularly big, with lines of cliffs along their borders ranging from 20 to 50 feet high. One of these gashes was much wider than any of the others and full of vegetation.

Closing in on **Taiya Peak** (R). **Peak 6053** (L). Photo looks W.

Above **one of the gashes**. **Peak 1769m** (L), **Fraser Peak** (R of Center). Photo looks N.

**Feather Peak** (L) and **Peak 6053** (R) from the edge of another gash. Photo looks SW.

Down in **one of the deepest gashes**. Photo looks NNE.

**Taiya Peak** (Center) dead ahead. Photo looks WNW.

Exploring the **widest gash**. Fraser Peak (L of Center) in the distance. Photo looks NNE.

Near the base of Taiya Peak, the roar of water could be heard ahead. Lupe soon reached the edge of a final gash containing a much larger stream than any other the others she’d come to tumbling steeply down this narrow ravine.

Along the **edge of the final gash**. **Feather Peak** (R), **Mount Cleveland** (R edge). Photo looks S.

Crossing the stream and its powerful flow in this deep ravine appeared treacherous. Happily, the upper end of the gash was only a little farther upstream. Turning N, Lupe went far enough to get above the spot where the stream plunged into the gash in a line of waterfalls along the W edge.

Above this spot the gap was non-existent and the stream was shallow, all spread out in a beautiful green oasis of tundra and wildflowers. Off in the distance to the NW, a long waterfall cascaded off a ridge into a wide bowl still hidden above.

**Taiya Peak** from the shallow stream above the last gash. Photo looks WNW.

The upstream view toward the hidden bowl. Photo looks NNW.

Wouldn’t it be fun to explore upstream all the way to that big waterfall, SPHP? We could even climb that ridge and see what’s beyond it, too!

Yes, of course! That would be fantastic, Loop, but I’m afraid we can’t do that, if we ever intend to make it to the top of Taiya Peak.

After a short, wistful break by the lovely stream spent contemplating that enticing bowl to the NW, Lupe waded across. The American Dingo then followed the stream back down to the waterfalls where it plunged into the gap. There she turned WSW, abandoning this beautiful region to start up the rocky slopes forming the base of Taiya Peak.

Starting up **Taiya Peak**. Photo looks W.

As the terrain steadily steepened, SPHP frequently paused to gasp for air. At first, Lupe still came to spots with a fair amount of greenery where she could relax on the soft vegetation while SPHP took short breathers. However, these patches of tundra became increasingly rare.

The mountain soon became quite an aggressive climb. The American Dingo scrambled up steep walls of talus. Fortunately, they often led to much flatter benches where usually another stretch of somewhat easier terrain existed above before an assault on the next wall would have to begin. As she gained elevation, Lupe’s winding WSW course gradually turned NW.

Having read online that it was important to stay S of an E ridge, which seemed poorly defined in the field, SPHP encouraged the Carolina Dog to take advantage of every opportunity to angle SW, but the terrain rarely cooperated.

Taking a break right before the climb steepened significantly. **Feather Peak** (L), **Mount Cleveland** (Center), **Peak 6053** (R). Photo looks SW.

Heading up a steep talus slope. Photo looks NW.

On easier terrain again. Photo looks SW.

Another wall of talus ahead. Photo looks WNW.

Pausing on another patch of tundra. Photo looks NNE.

The benches and ledges Lupe reached were becoming narrower and less frequent. SPHP’s progress on the steep talus was painfully slow. The talus walls extended higher and higher, becoming so steep that whether or not this ascent could possibly be successful was continually in doubt.

Ever fewer and more difficult routes kept appearing above. Although Lupe displayed great scrambling ability, she began coming to places where SPHP had to give her a boost. Tiring, longer rest breaks were in order every time the American Dingo managed to reach one of the wider, safer ledges.

Relaxing on one of the larger benches. **Mount Carmack** & **Feather Peak** (L), **Mount Cleveland** (L of Center), **Peak 6053** (Center). Photo looks SW.

After gaining many hundreds of feet, Lupe came to a talus slope that wasn’t as steep. Climbing NW, she reached a long snowbank she was able to follow WSW. Above it, another steep talus slope finally led to a big level bench of gritty tan soil. Taking another break here, the views were tremendous.

Looking E, Summit Lake was in sight down in the Tormented Valley. Lupe could see Summit Creek flowing into it, and the mighty range of unfamiliar mountains E of the valley. Looking SW, Lupe was already clearly higher than both Feather Peak (5,889 ft.) and Peak 6053.

Approaching the **long snowbank** (L) Lupe was able to follow WSW. Photo looks NW.

On another steep talus climb. Photo looks WNW.

**N half of Summit Lake** from the gritty tan bench. **Summit Creek** (R). Photo looks ESE.

Resting on the last big ledge. **Mount Carmack** (far L), **Mount Cleveland** (L), **Peak 6053** (Center). Photo looks SW.

Wow, what a climb! Can’t go on like this much longer, can it, SPHP?

No, it can’t. According to the topo map, it ought to be getting noticeably easier any time now, Loopster. Not sure how accurate our GPS track is, but it says we’re already at 6,275 feet. If true, that puts us within less than 600 feet of the summit elevation-wise.

Continuing on, Lupe skirted WSW along the base of the 20 foot wall next to the ledge before reaching a place where she could climb above it. 60 feet higher, a magnificent sight appeared. To the NW, a long talus slope stretched toward what appeared to be Taiya Peak’s summit.

It was a moment of great joy.

Hah! Got’er made, Looper! We’re going to make it!

**Taiya Peak** (Center) from 6,333 feet. Photo looks NW.

Still a trudge, but the angle of ascent was much easier now. While SPHP hoped nothing too funky laid beyond what could be seen of the summit region, Lupe steadily closed the gap, alternately trotting over patches of the gritty tan soil or rock-hopping her way higher.

Closing in on the **summit**. Photo looks NW.

7-30-23, 3:46 PM, 68ºF, Taiya Peak (6,844 feet) – 50 feet from the SE end of a 200 foot long summit ridge, Lupe stood next to a cairn by the true summit with a grin on her face. Beyond her, the sky was disappointingly gray with smoke bad enough to seriously mar the views, but it could have been worse.

Almost due S, Mount Carmack (6,808 ft.), Feather Peak (5,889 ft.), and Mount Cleveland (6,362 ft.) were all still readily discernable despite the smoke. It was incredible to think that Lupe was now higher than all of them. Felt even stranger looking down on Peak 6053 less than 2 miles SW, a magnificent peak in its own right practically on the border with Alaska, where the Carolina Dog had stood proudly nearly 5 years ago, gazing up at mighty Taiya Peak.

By the **Taiya Peak summit cairn**. **Mount Carmack** (L), **Mount Cleveland** (L of Center), **Peak 6053** (Center). Photo looks SW.

As cherished as those views were, and as splendid as the sights were in all directions, in truth, it was the views to the W that had inspired this entire journey. Beyond the unseen depths of the giant Taiya River valley, where prospectors had once struggled against forbidding elements up the famous Chilkoot Trail from Dyea to the Yukon gold fields, a sea of glacier-clad peaks extended beyond vision.

Alaska! Forbidding, vast, remote, and frigidly white as in one’s wildest dreams. No one had ever stood on most of those unnamed peaks. It was like looking 20,000 years back into an ancient, long forgotten ice age.

**Alaska** from **Taiya Peak**. Photo looks W.

SPHP seized the American Dingo’s outstretched paw, and shook it most enthusiastically.

Congratulations, Lupe! 12.5 years old, and you made it all this way! I can’t believe it. I never thought we’d see this scene again, sweet puppy.

What? Of course, I made it! A remark like that is going to cost you every chocolate coconut bar in that pack, SPHP.

This was, in fact, the 4th time the Carolina Dog had seen this stunning view into Alaska, each time from a different vantage point. Lupe had first gazed up at Mount Hoffman (6,079 ft.) from a ridge at the far W end of the International Falls Trail in 2017. The very next day she saw Peak 8239, the Skagway High Point, from Fraser Peak, and then again from Peak 6053 a year later.

However, Lupe had never enjoyed this scene from a perch as lofty as the one she now had on Taiya Peak before. Only the wretched smoke and weariness dampened the soaring mood of the occasion. Conditions were otherwise perfect – an incredible 68ºF with a lazy 5 mph SW breeze.

**Peak 6053** (far L) and **Mount Hoffman** (R) both in the foreground. **Peak 8239** (far R). Photo looks SW.

**Taiya Peak’s NW ridge** (R) in the foreground. Photo looks NW.

**Mount Hoffman** (R of Center) in the foreground. **Peak 8239** (R). Photo looks WSW.

No vegetation at all existed up here, so Lupe had no comfortable spot to rest. However, immediately N of the cairn, the rock it sat on had a flat spot big enough to accommodate her. After an initial look at the views, SPHP used a jacket, a pullover, and another layer of clothing to make a bed for her there.

Resting next to the **summit cairn** (R). Photo looks ESE.

The **Tormented Valley** (Center) 4,000 feet below from **Taiya Peak**. Photo looks ESE.

Lupe got her half-melted chocolate coconut bar reward, splitting it with SPHP. She then got to lick off the soft chocolate sticking to the wrapper, which she did with great enthusiasm, followed by plenty of water for all, and Taste of the Wild for Lupe. Satisfied, the Carolina Dog put her head down on SPHP’s jacket and snoozed.

For a while, SPHP gazed alone upon the splendors in all directions, but after a short nap, Lupe was awake, too, although not at all inclined to move from her comfy spot. SPHP sat next to her, stroking Lupe’s soft fur, and praising her for coming all this way.

7-30-23, 4:40 PM, Taiya Peak –

Your traditional summit hour is almost over, Looper.

We can’t leave yet, SPHP! Let’s have a more thorough look around first!

Fully intend to, Loop. We’re certainly in no rush to leave this awesome peak. Other than the dang smoke, it couldn’t be a more perfect day.

Finally getting up after this assurance, Lupe was ready for a leisurely summit tour. She began by making the 50 foot stroll over to the SW end of the summit ridge. At this end, the ridge was only about 15 feet wide, and the large rocks were encased in black lichens.

Naturally, the best views of the Feather Peak group and Peak 6053 were from here. Lupe also peered down on a glacier covering a significant portion of the region between Peak 6053 and Taiya Peak.

**Mount Carmack** (L of Center), **Mount Cleveland** (R of Center), **Peak 6053** (far R). Photo looks SSW.

**Glacier between Peak 6053 and Taiya Peak** (foreground). **Mount Hoffman** (Center), **Peak 8239** (R of Center). Photo looks W.

Next, returning to the cairn, Lupe had a look at Summit Lake. If she’d had a pair of Dingo binoculars, she might have seen the RAV4 parked down along S Klondike Hwy No. 2.

**Summit Lake** (Center & R) from **Taiya Peak**. Photo looks ESE.

The summit ridge extended another 150 feet NE from the cairn. The ridge broadened out to 50 feet wide in this direction, and consisted of much lighter-colored scree bearing few of the black lichens.

Going out close to the far end, Peak 1769m, Fraser Peak (5,978 ft.), and Log Cabin Mountain (5,633 ft.) were all lined up to the NE. Part of Bryant Lake was in sight next to Fraser Peak, and in the distance, both the N end of Lindeman Lake and S end of Bennett Lake were in view.

**NE end of the summit ridge** (Center). **Fraser Peak** (R) in foreground. **Tormented Valley** (far R). Photo looks NE.

**Lindeman Lake** & **Bennet Lake** (L) in the distance, **Bryant Lake** (Center). **Peak 1769m**, **Fraser Peak**, & **Log Cabin Mountain** lined up at (R). Photo looks NE.

From this end of the summit ridge, it was also possible to look down on the large glacier clinging to the N side of Taiya Peak. While most of the glistening white snow and ice appeared soft and gently rounded, several large crevasses were in sight, too.

**Taiya Peak’s N side glacier** (foreground). Photo looks NW.

**Lower end of the N glacier**. Photo looks NNW with help from the telephoto lens.

Lupe occasionally returned briefly to her comfortable perch by the cairn as SPHP repeatedly wandered back and forth along the entire length of the summit ridge trying to take it all in, but usually she went right along with SPHP, staring out at the same incredible views.

**Mount Carmack** (Center), **Mount Cleveland** (R). Photos looks SSW with help from the telephoto lens.

**Taiya Peak’s NW ridge** (Center, foreground). Photo looks NW.

**Mount Hoffman** (L of Center, foreground), **Peak 8239** (R of Center). Photo looks W.

7-30-23, 5:29 PM, Taiya Peak (6,844 ft.) – Alas, most of a second hour had already flown! 1.75 hours after arriving, Lupe stood next to the cairn for the last time, her front paws resting on the highest naturally placed rock.

Before entirely abandoning the summit region, Lupe returned to the SW end of the summit ridge one last time. A bit below it, she found a perch where that glorious view W into glacier-clad Alaska beckoned beyond.

Looks like the mountains go on forever, doesn’t it, SPHP?

Yes, it does, sweet puppy! If only we could, too.

The magnificent fleeting moment passed. It was a long way back. The incredible, cherished scene vanished as soon as Lupe left her perch to head back down the mountain.

The iPhone battery was down to 22% by the time the Carolina Dog left the summit region, so SPHP had to use it sparingly during the return. Never a good scrambler, it took SPHP hours to carefully pick a way down the mountain’s steep talus. Lupe was forever waiting. She headed down staying farther S than during her ascent, but with no discernable benefit.

For a long way, a gigantic boulder cracked in half was visible far below. Even SPHP finally got down pretty close to it before turning NE to head for the large beautiful stream. Water supplies had run out on the way down the mountain, and the sun had set by the time Lupe reached the stream again. She drank deeply from it, and from every trickle and tarn thereafter.

Twilight lingered. In fading light on easier terrain again, SPHP hurried on. Weary, Lupe wanted to be done, and many short breaks were taken on a bit of soft tundra here or there. Although also exhausted, SPHP kept urging the American Dingo on, wanting to take as much advantage of what fading light there was as possible.

It never got completely dark. A glow was always visible in the N. Even so, the flashlight eventually had to come out. Lupe’s ascent route had been fairly efficient, and every time SPHP checked the iPhone, she was never far from her GPS track, yet nothing looked familiar in the gloom. Every minor high point revealed only another steep, black drop ahead.

The Carolina Dog kept reaching the biggest gashes at bad spots, forcing searches for practical routes down into them and back out again. Lupe seemed forced into one boulder field after another.

Fortunately, the night was extraordinarily mild. Eventually fog could be seen drifting N from White Pass, a gray ghost spreading gradually across the dark land.

The first trees appeared roughly 2 km from S Klondike Hwy No. 2. Lupe had been desperately begging SPHP to stop. Dreading the dense forest and willows that lay ahead in the night, SPHP finally relented.

Finding a soft patch of tundra, SPHP shared a chocolate mint Cliff bar with Lupe, last of the supplies other than a few peanuts. Layering up, SPHP then wrapped a jacket around the grateful American Dingo, and pulled her close. Lupe immediately put her head down and closed her eyes. It was 1:00 AM.

7-31-23, 4:30 AM, 3,300 feet – Really wasn’t all that cold out, but SPHP’s teeth chattered nevertheless.

Loopster, can you move? My left arm’s numb under you.

Seems a little lighter out, SPHP. I’m feeling better. Want to keep going?

SPHP turned on the flashlight.

Criminy! We’re in the fog, Loop. Can’t see much of anything, but maybe we should go? Might start to rain.

As it turned out, Lupe really wasn’t that close to the forest yet, and still had a fair amount of elevation to lose. Progress continued to be slow, but was better than last night. Eventually it was light enough to turn off the flashlight, and possible to see some distance through the fog.

Greatly revived by her 3.5 hour snooze, Lupe no longer complained, but led the way. Staying farther N than during her ascent as she headed E, the Carolina Dog managed to avoid most of the steep descent through dense forest. She had to go down some equally steep boulder fields, but that was actually easier.

Upon reaching the forest and turning S, Lupe enjoyed considerable luck on this route, usually finding open lanes of grass and tundra through the evergreens, while passing tarns she’d never seen before along the way.

The American Dingo eventually came to the willows where Summit Creek could be heard rushing downstream ahead. Even here Lupe led the way, bounding through the jungle without being able to see a thing. Only the quivering of the willows she disturbed revealed her location.

Soon the roar coming from Summit Creek indicated that it wasn’t much farther. SPHP yelled.

Careful, Loopster! The bank is a vertical drop!

It was, too. SPHP caught up with Lupe again among the willows along the edge. Summit Creek was right there, hugging this bank, an 8-10 foot vertical drop from the willow thicket that extended right to the brink.

Perhaps as eager to get to the RAV4 as SPHP was, the Carolina Dog took off again, forging ahead, charging blindly this way and that through the endless willows. Soon she was racing straight for Summit Creek again. SPHP yelled twice.

Loop! Stop! STOP! You’ll fall in!

A moment later, a splash.

OMG! Loopster!

Summit Creek was deep where Lupe fell, the current swift and icy cold. From the edge of the willows, SPHP looked anxiously downstream. Suddenly, well ahead, there was Lupe, shaking herself off on exposed streambed where Summit Creek had veered away from the near bank. She appeared to be fine.

Hurrying as much as possible, SPHP surged through the willows, losing sight of the American Dingo in the process.

Loop! Loop!

Minutes ticked away. Nothing. SPHP kept going, calling her name. No sign of her the next time SPHP caught a glimpse of the streambed. Where was she?

Suddenly, here came Lupe, charging straight toward SPHP from behind. Soaking wet from head to tail, she’d been searching for SPHP, too.

Oh, Lupe, don’t scare me like that! Are you OK? Did you get hurt?

Cold and sopping wet, but thankfully, no damage done.

7-31-23, 6:47 AM, 55ºF, S. Klondike Hwy No. 2 – Less than 15 minutes later, Lupe’s grand and glorious Taiya Peak adventure was over, more than 23 hours after it had begun. Lupe leapt up onto her pink blanket in the RAV4 and began vigorously licking herself dry, while SPHP wearily stashed the gear. It was still foggy and cool out, and no one was around. For 45 minutes, the highway was deserted. Not a single vehicle went by.

A couple of semis finally whizzed past just before SPHP pulled the RAV4 onto the highway, heading N. By then Lupe had eaten and was ready to snooze. Driving barepaw with the heater on high to dry out soaking wet boots and socks on the floorboard, SPHP downed a strawberry Equate, feeling surprisingly alert.

7-31-23, 9:37 AM – That feeling of alertness didn’t last long. Shortly after passing Carcross, a tremendous all-pervasive drowsiness set in. Pulling into the Robinson Roadhouse rest area near Mount Lorne, SPHP joined Lupe in her slumber.

A few hours later, Lupe was on her way again.

Taiya Peak was awesome, SPHP! What’s next? You won’t hurt my feelings if it’s something a little less ambitious.

We’re on our way to Whitehorse, Loop. We can pick up supplies, fuel up, then hang out there the rest of the day. Tomorrow, we’ll head N to the Dempster Highway, and start the journey to Tuktoyaktuk.

Tuktoyaktuk, Land of the Pingos, on the Arctic Ocean, SPHP?

Yup. And you can bet on plenty of adventures along the way, Sweet Puppy!

And so it was. After getting to Whitehorse, Lupe hung out in the RAV4 while SPHP ran around doing the supplies thing, then joined her in long naps after sharing a roasted chicken. The day’s activities ended with an evening stroll along the fabled Yukon River, and the promise of more terrific adventures ahead.

However, what those adventures might consist of was far from certain. On the way into town, a lighted sign over the Alaska Highway had warned of wildfires and road closures along the Dempster Highway.