Muncho Lake Provincial Park – The (Mostly) True Adventures of Lupe

Liard River Hot Springs, Muncho Lake & The Racing River, British Columbia, Canada (9-11-23 & 9-12-23)

Day 51 & Part 1 of Day 52 of Lupe’s 2nd Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacation to Canada & Alaska!

9-11-23, 2:10 AM, 45ºF – Comfortably warm, SPHP had slept well for a few hours, but was now wide awake again.

Loopster! Want to go out and sniff the air?

She did. Strolling together down to the confluence, the night was starry, with an orange crescent moon hanging low over the Pelly River.

What an awesome spot, SPHP! Sad to think that it’s our last night in the Yukon.

Very sad, but September is already a third over, Loop. Nights are getting longer. Soon going to be a lot colder, so we’ve got to keep heading S.

While the American Dingo sniffed, SPHP gazed upon the moon’s rippling orange reflection. The Pelly River! A rare vision on this dark night, that spoke not only of this fleeting moment in time, but whispered of quiet, infinitely remote, and lonely ages gone by.

9-11-23, 7:15 AM, 41ºF – A gray morning. It began with a short stroll up to the Robert Campbell Hwy No. 4 bridge over the Hoole River. After crossing the bridge, Lupe explored a primitive side road going upstream into the forest. Surprisingly, it soon led to private property.

Huh. Imagine that! Private land, way out here. It’s a possibility I hardly ever even think about in the Yukon wilderness, Looper.

Great place for a hidden cabin, SPHP. Talk about seclusion!

World class! No doubt about it, Loopster. Even the highway scarcely has any traffic.

**Hoole River**, looking downstream toward the **confluence** with the **Pelly River**. Photo looks NNE.

9-11-23, 9:19 AM – Trip journal’s caught up. We’ll be leaving soon, Loop. One more look before we head out?

The Carolina Dog was all for that notion. For half an hour, Lupe sniffed around amid the trees and bushes near the pullout where the RAV4 was parked, before visiting the confluence of the Hoole and Pelly rivers for the last time.

**Confluence** of the **Hoole and Pelly rivers** from the pullout. Photo looks NNE.

On a **boulder right at the confluence**. The **Hoole River** comes in from the R. The **Pelly** flows to the L. Photo looks NNE.

A scenic drive along Robert Campbell Hwy No. 4 consumed the rest of the morning and first half of the afternoon. This was all new territory Lupe had never seen before. SPHP stopped quite a few times to let her out for a few minutes and a closer look.

**Yellow-orange aspens** lining **Robert Campbell Hwy No. 4**.

As far as the American Dingo was concerned, the highlight of the entire drive occurred shortly after it began, when she spotted 3 black bears, a mama with 2 cubs, crossing the highway. This provoked a brief, shrill, and extraordinarily enthusiastic reaction within the RAV4. Naturally, the bears fled before SPHP could get a photo.

And that was it for wildlife. Scenic mountains and lakes were the usual fare. An early stop near Finlayson Lake sported an observation deck. However, the forest had grown up so much that the lake was still mostly hidden from view. Displays contained information about the Finlayson woodland caribou herd. No caribou were in sight, either, although Lupe would have loved to see them.

At the **Finlayson Lake** pullout. Photo looks NE.

**Finlayson Lake**, or at least what could be seen of it. Photo looks NNE.

**Summer** and **winter ranges** of the **Finlayson caribou herd**.

**Life** of the **Finlayson woodland caribou**.

Cruising generally SE, the Pelly Mountains were on the R (SW). Many of these mountains looked quite climbable, but difficult treks through the boreal forest wilderness would have been required just to get to them.

**Pelly Mountains** from **Robert Campbell Hwy No. 4**. Photo looks SSW.

Traffic was virtually nonexistent. Photo looks NW.

A **particularly striking peak** (L of Center). Photo looks WNW.

The Logan Mountains eventually came into view off to the L (NE). A romp up onto a low ridge that had burned some years ago provided a terrific viewpoint.

**Logan Mountains** from the **burnt ridge**. Photo looks NE.

**Pelly Mountains** from the same ridge. Photo looks W.

Near Frances Lake, the highway curved S, then turned to pavement shortly before reaching a junction with Nahanni Range Road No. 10. Continuing S, Lupe got a view of the last big mountains along Robert Campbell Hwy No. 4 from Simpson Lake.

**Simpson Mountains** (L) beyond **Simpson Lake**. Photo looks SSW.

On the way into Watson Lake, the sky turned an eerie orange-gray.

Approaching **Watson Lake.** Photo looks W.

Oh, my gosh, SPHP! The Arctic Apocalypse is still here!

Hard to believe, but it was true.

9-11-23, 3:11 PM, 59°F – A gigantic plume of wildfire smoke rising from out of the SW hung over the town of Watson Lake when Lupe arrived. The TAGS gas bar was so busy that SPHP went into the store to purchase a few supplies while waiting for the lines at the pumps to dissipate.

Watson Lake was the end of Robert Campbell Hwy No. 4. From here, the journey SE continued along the beautifully paved Alaska Highway. The threatening wildfire smoke proved to be merely a local phenomena, and was soon fading from sight in the rear view mirror.

Cruising smoothly beneath blue skies, SPHP was mentally celebrating the RAV4’s successful completion of the last significant stretch of nearly 2,000 miles of incident-free gravel roads driven on this Dingo Vacation when, 20 minutes out of Watson Lake, a semi-truck coming the opposite direction threw a rock that cracked the windshield.

Deeply annoyed, SPHP instantly began playing an entirely futile mental game of what-if.

Are you kidding me? Our brand new windshield! Cracked again this year, shortly after we’re done with all the gravel and reached pavement? There is no justice in this world, Loopster!

No lack of irony, though, SPHP.

Same exact spot where the windshield got cracked last year, too, Loop! Right down in the lower L paw corner. If I’d been driving another 1.5″ to the R, all the RAV4 would have suffered was a chip in the paint.

You had no way of knowing that ahead of time, SPHP.

At least back in 2022, we really had no choice, stuck following a pilot car through a narrow, muddy, 16 mile long stretch of road construction way up on the Dalton Highway with one gravel truck after another spraying rocks at us. This time, though, if I’d had any inkling that truck was going to throw a rock, I could have easily stayed far enough to the R so that dang rock would have missed us entirely, Loop.

A little late now, SPHP. Might as well forget it. Just a freak accident. You say yourself that there’s about a 50/50 chance that the windshield will get broken every time we go to Alaska. Happened once to our old G6, too.

All true, yet truth and reason brought no comfort at all. For the next hour, SPHP fumed to no avail while the RAV4 sped through a region of heavily-forested hills and ridges. By the time SPHP’s black mood began to lift, the Most High Exalted Dingo of the Arctic Sisterhood had left the Yukon for good in 2023.

The American Dingo suffered from no such funk. In fact, once back in British Columbia, Lupe had a grand time watching for wildlife along the Alaska Highway, spotting 5 black bears and many bison, all of which elicited hysterical barking fits. What could be more fun?

9-11-23, 6:22 PM – A traditional stop at Liard River Hot Springs was just the ticket, and still an unbelievable bargain at just $5.00 CAN admission, to help complete the healing of the damage the cracked windshield had done to SPHP’s disposition. After the usual short sniff around the picnic area, the Carolina Dog had to wait in the RAV4 while SPHP soaked for nearly 2 hours in the relaxing hot springs deep in the boreal forest.

Arriving at **Liard River Hot Springs**.

The **boardwalk** leading to the **hot springs**. Photo looks NNE.

Crossing a **shallow, warm water swamp**. Photo looks NNW.

Entering the **boreal forest**. Photo looks NNE.

The **Hotwater Physa**, a small snail found only at **Liard River Hot Springs**.

**Liard River Hot Springs** are the **second-largest thermal springs in Canada**!

The awesome **boreal forest setting** of the **change house and pool**.

It was already dark by the time SPHP returned.

Welcome back! So, how was it, SPHP?

It was a dull little crowd, but the hot springs were fabulous, Loop. Feels fantastic to be so warm and clean again! Too bad Dingoes aren’t allowed.

Wouldn’t matter if they were, SPHP. Hot springs aren’t a Carolina Dog favorite.

Chef Boyardee spaghetti for dinner a little later on was, though.

Hey! What are you doing? Leave some for me, Loopster.

You had your fun, SPHP. My turn now!

9-12-23, 7:02 AM, 49ºF – Another mild night. So nice to be warm! The sun wasn’t even on the hills quite yet when Lupe first went out to sniff the air, but that soon changed.

Morning along the **Alaska Highway**. Photo looks NW.

Another travel day, SPHP?

Afraid so, Loopster. Your Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacations are just about over. Don’t worry. We’ll still have some fun on the way home.

No more big adventures, though, SPHP?

Oh, I wouldn’t say that yet, Looper. We’ll see. Anyway, it’s time to hit the road. Muncho Lake Provincial Park is next. We’ll stop a few places along the lake, and you’ll get to see Mount Peterson (7,021 ft.) again!

The views from Mount Peterson were awesome last year, SPHP, but the biting gnats in the forest were ghastly, remember?

How could I forget? Your poor tummy was all swollen and bright red with bites by the time it was over and done with, and those horrid gnats nearly did me in, too. I almost ran out of antihistamine the next day.

Heading into **Muncho Lake Provincial Park**. Photo looks SSE.

**Mount Peterson** (R of Center) from **Muncho Lake**. Photo looks S.

**Sentinel Range** from down by the **lakeshore**. Photo looks NNE.

No biting gnats today! At least, not during a romp along the gravelly shore of Muncho Lake. It really was fun seeing Mount Peterson again, and remembering its long N ridge snaking away toward Muncho Lake from on high. Returning to the RAV4 after her Muncho Lake tour, Lupe then got to see Peak 7669 and Mount Scott (8,000 ft.), one of the highest peaks in the entire region, during the Alaska Highway’s descent into the Toad River valley.

Another look at **Mount Peterson** (R). Photo looks S.

**Peak 7669** (L of Center), **Mount Scott** (Center). Photo looks SSE.

The scenery was gorgeous along the Toad River. Approaching one of the first pullouts near the river, SPHP slowed way down, then went on.

What was wrong with that spot, SPHP? The view was sublime!

Yeah. Complete with a porcupine, too! So, I thought better of it. I’d rather you didn’t make its acquaintance.

Not to worry! Plenty of spots to get out and sniff along the way.

Autumn at the **Toad River**. Photo looks NNE.

A big **alluvial fan** across the **Toad River**. Photo looks N.

9-12-23, 9:35 AM, 58ºF – The Toad River was splendid, but the next river, one of its main tributaries, was a long time favorite, and the site of many fond memories. In fact, exactly a year ago today, Lupe had climbed Racing Peak from along its stony floodplain.

**Alaska Highway bridge** over the **Racing River**. **Racing Peak** (L edge). Photo looks NE.

The Racing River! We’ve got to spend some time here, SPHP!

Absolutely, Sweet Puppy! Let’s wander upstream for a while.

This jaunt along the Racing River, with Peak 7201 always beckoning in the distance, had become a more or less annual fall tradition.

Near the start of the upstream stroll. Photo looks SSE.

**Peak 7201** (R of Center). Photo looks SSW.

As always, this was a happy outing, yet there was a touch of sadness about it, too. Golden trees spoke not only of all the glorious adventures the Summer of 2023 had brought Lupe, but of the fast approaching end of these never-to-return halcyon days.

A **snazzy little peak** across the **Racing River**. Photo looks E.

Almost every year, Lupe went a little farther. This time, the turnaround point came along a channel being abandoned by the river.

Separated from the main course by a couple of channels. Photo looks S.

Near the end of 2023’s Racing River romp. **Peak 7201** (Center). Photo looks SSW.

Are we ever going to climb Peak 7201, SPHP?

I don’t know, Loop. I’ve thought about it many times. Looks like a terrific adventure, but may be beyond our capabilities.

Certainly not happening today. On the way back, Lupe explored part of the forest. Near the end, there was that magnificent view of the Alaska Highway bridge and Racing Peak (4,409 ft.). The Racing Peak dream had come true, maybe someday the Peak 7201 dream would, too?

Exploring the forest. **Racing Peak** (L). Photo looks NE.

**Racing Peak** (L) from the **Racing River**. Photo looks NE.

9-12-23, 11:05 AM, 66ºF, back at the RAV4 –

It’s been fun, but for a travel day, we’ve enjoyed a mighty leisurely start, Loopster. We better get serious about making some highway tracks!

What about lunch, SPHP? We skipped breakfast, and I’m hungry!

Lunch? I suppose you’re right, Looper. We ought to eat something. How about we stop at the picnic ground at Summit Lake in Stone Mountain Provincial Park? We ought to get there right around noon.

Lunch with a view of Mount Saint George! Sounds great, SPHP. By the way, do we have any more Chef Boyardee spaghetti?

I’ll have to check when we get there, Chow Dingo!

**Peak 7201** from the **Racing River**, Muskwa Ranges, British Columbia, Canada 9-12-23

Links:

Next Adventure Prior Adventure

Mount Peterson, Muskwa Ranges, Muncho Lake Provincial Park, British Columbia, Canada (9-10-22)

Racing Peak, Muskwa Ranges, British Columbia, Canada (9-12-22)

Mount Saint George, Stone Mountain Provincial Park, British Columbia, Canada (8-5-17)

Want more Lupe adventures? Choose from Lupe’s Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacations to Colorado, New Mexico, Canada & Alaska Adventure Index, Dingo Vacations Adventure Index or Master Adventure Index. Or subscribe free to new Lupe adventures.

Mount Peterson, Muskwa Ranges Muncho Lake Provincial Park, British Columbia, Canada (9-10-22)

Part 2 of Day 43 of Lupe’s 2nd Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacation to Canada & Alaska!

9:48 AM, 54ºF, Alaska Highway, 7.5 km S of Muncho Lake –

Alrighty! Think we’re about ready, Loopster. Onward! Puppy, ho!

Which side of the gash do you want to go up, SPHP?

Let’s try the N side, Looper.

Trotting NW across the Alaska Highway, Lupe came to a primitive road that started up Mount Peterson’s E slope. Spotting an unusual cairn on a bank just N of this road, the Carolina Dog went over to investigate. The cairn had a human shape, complete with a wooden walking stick.

About to set out for **Mount Peterson** (L). Photo looks NW.

The “**gash**” (L of Center) from the primitive road. Photo looks SW.

**Alaska Highway** from the **human cairn**. Photo looks SE.

Looks just like you, SPHP!

Yes, I see the resemblance, Looper. We ought to make a Dingo cairn.

A noble thought, but onward, SPHP! Mount Peterson (7,021 ft.) is way too big for us to be dilly-dallying.

A rather rocky slope led up toward the forest, which wasn’t far off. How dense this forest was would make an enormous difference on what the American Dingo’s chances of success were on this ascent. Happily, initial results were encouraging. The forest was fairly open.

Approaching the forest. The **gash** (R of Center). Photo looks SW.

The slope soon steepened, and the trees became more tightly packed. Thick moss and spongy tundra carpeted the forest floor. Progress was still fairly decent, although SPHP had to wander in search of the best routes higher. The trees weren’t all that big, and there were countless small branches to push through.

As the day warmed up, gnats began to appear. Or at least, they initially looked like gnats. On closer examination, they were more like tiny flies with huge bulging eyes. Before long, clouds of these annoying bugs were swarming all around both Lupe and SPHP. Unlike gnats, these tiny flies seemed to bite, too.

These gnats are terrible, SPHP!

Yeah, I hate them. Hang on a minute, Loopster. Let me check the pack. Dang! Been so long since we’ve had a bug problem, that I didn’t bring any Deet. Guess we’re just going to have to put up with them.

Increasingly plagued by the odious bugs, Lupe gained nearly 400 feet climbing quite a steep slope. Moving helped some, but there was no breeze, and between the forest and steepness of the slope, it was hard to move quickly. Had to keep going, though! Any pause simply ensured an even worse situation.

The gnats were attacking Lupe’s eyes, and SPHP’s ears and neck. Half a dozen died with each swat, without achieving the slightest effect on their endless numbers.

What can we do, SPHP? They’re eating us alive!

Keep going, Looper! Our only hope is getting above treeline. Might find relief there.

Lupe reached a little ridge with a 20 foot dip beyond it. The top of this ridge was level and fairly open.

Let’s start angling S here, Loopster. Can’t be too far to the gash. Let’s try to get to it. Maybe we can see what things look like from there?

Crossing the dip before turning S, Lupe soon made it to the N rim of the gash, which was actually a deep, steep-sided, V-shaped ravine. The view was limited where Lupe first reached it at about 4,300 feet, but she made a useful discovery. A path ran along the edge.

Near the N edge of the gash. Photo looks S.

No telling how much lower this apparently seldom-used path started, but it helped SPHP pick up the pace. Happily, the slope was no longer quite as steep, which didn’t hurt either, and even better, the ghastly gnats weren’t as bad near the edge. Climbing faster now, Lupe made it to a spot where Mount Peterson’s summit was in view.

**Mount Peterson’s summit** (L of Center). Photo looks SW.

Ugh! It’s a long way to treeline, SPHP!

Yeah, I know, Looper. Expected that. Our situation is even worse than I thought, though. Don’t know what possessed me to tell you to come up N of the gash like this. We’re on the wrong side! We need to get to that ridge over on the S side. That’s our intended route to the summit.

Simply fabulous! How are we supposed to do that, SPHP?

Keep a-going, Loop! Believe we can cross over higher up.

The old game trail, or whatever it was, continued so close to the edge of the gash that portions of the trail had collapsed into the ravine, forcing brief, unpleasant forays into the totally gnat-infested forest. In places, the path actually ran slightly below the edge, inside the gash. Lupe was quite daring, sticking with the trail across slopes so steep that SPHP feared for her safety, and didn’t dare follow.

Making progress! **Mount Peterson summit** (L of Center), **intended route** (L). Photo looks SW.

After gaining several hundred feet of elevation along the path, it veered deeper into the gash traversing a very steep, crumbly slope. SPHP was forced into stunted pines so thick that progress nearly ground to a halt. Returning to the edge of the gash whenever possible, Lupe sometimes came to open territory, but all the forested stretches were an absolute gnatmare, as merciless swarms engulfed both Lupe and SPHP.

On some beautiful open ground. Photo looks SSW.

Improvement didn’t come until Lupe finally reached treeline at about 4,900 feet. Continuing another 200 feet higher, she made it to a jumble of white boulders at the base of Mount Peterson’s giant N ridge. She’d now gained nearly 2,000 feet of elevation. Thankfully, far fewer gnats were here, permitting a much needed rest break.

As SPHP anticipated, there was more good news! The American Dingo was now above the deeply eroded gash. All she needed to do was cross a much more gently sloping drainage to reach a broad, rounded region of low tundra leading to the ridge she needed to climb.

Among the boulders at the base of **Mount Peterson’s N ridge** (R). Photo looks SSW.

Crossing a scree slope on the way to this enticing alpine area, Lupe came to a small stream. She enjoyed a drink before plunking herself down in the cold water for a few minutes.

The **upper drainage region** above the deeply eroded gash. Photo looks S.

Starting up the next slope beyond the stream, SPHP’s right ear and side of the neck were burning and swollen with gnat bites. Stopping to take a Benadryl, SPHP saw blood on Lupe’s abdomen. Initially thinking she’d been injured somehow, SPHP was horrified to find the American Dingo’s entire abdomen a bright red patchwork of hundreds of gnat bites.

Oh, Loopster! You poor thing! You must feel terrible! Nothing I can do to ease your pain, either. I’m so sorry that I didn’t bring any insect repellent!

Mount Peterson hasn’t been much fun so far, SPHP. At least, the icy water in the little stream felt good.

Despite her misery, the Carolina Dog was a real trooper. Continuing to climb, the tundra on the broad slope she was on became more and more beautiful. Back to the N, Muncho Lake was now in sight.

On the tundra slope, destined for the ridge on the L. Photo looks SSW.

A little higher on the beautiful tundra. Love the red! Photo looks SSW.

The ghastly gnats soon vanished completely on this firm, open terrain. Suddenly, Mount Peterson wasn’t such an ordeal. Gorgeous panoramas of silver-topped mountains steadily improved, and so did the mood. The rounded region narrowed as Lupe approached the ridge leading to the summit. A massive chunk of limestone sat alone on the tundra. Beyond it, Lupe started coming to bands of rock, small escarpments of crumbling limestone easily scrambled, or avoided.

By the giant chunk of limestone. Photo looks SSE.

Near the first rock bands. Photo looks SE.

It was a long trudge. Higher ground kept appearing ahead, but the big ridge never got very narrow. Exploring the limestone escarpments was easy and fun. Loopster was having a blast!

Enjoying a little light scrambling among the rocks. Photo looks S.

*Sure beats the forest! This is awesome, SPHP!* Photo looks S.

Glancing over at **Mount Peterson’s enormous N ridge**. Photo looks NW.

Silvery mountains across the **Muncho Creek valley**. **Peak 7687** (Center). **Alaska Highway** below. Photo looks ESE.

Despite SPHP’s frequent pauses to gasp for air, Lupe was making great progress, clearly gaining on Mount Peterson’s summit. The rate of climb diminished by the time a cairn appeared ahead.

Gaining on the **summit** (R of Center). Photo looks SW.

Approaching the **cairn** (L of Center). Photo looks S.

2:12 PM – The 4 foot high cairn sat at a minor high point where the ridge Lupe had been following S turned W toward Mount Peterson’s summit. A long stick jutted another 4 feet skyward. Even if the American Dingo didn’t go any farther, this was quite an amazing viewpoint itself.

**Muncho Lake** (Center) from the cairn. Photo looks N.

**Muncho Lake** with help from the telephoto lens. Photo looks N.

This is a glorious spot. How about taking a short break here, Looper?

All for it, SPHP!

A roomy patch of tundra SSW of the cairn provided a comfy spot to sit. Lupe had a tremendous view of a deep valley to the S from here, where a small tarn glittered at the upper end of a forested region.

The **valley S of HP6171**. Photo looks SSW.

That pond looks lovely, but I’m glad we’re not down there, SPHP! Bet there are a zillion gnats. How high are we here, anyway? Did you remember to start a GPS track when we left the RAV4?

I did! Says we’re at 6,171 feet. According to that, we’ve gained a little over 3,000 feet so far, Loopster. Less than 1,000 to go!

SPHP tried to sound optimistic, but gazing W along the ridge leading to Mount Peterson’s summit, whether Lupe would ever get there, or not, seemed questionable. Most of the ridge was cake, but the upper end looked dangerously steep.

A little worrisome, isn’t it, SPHP?

Yeah. I’m not eager for another Table Mountain experience, Loop. You only get so many of those before something really bad happens. That long, steep slope coming up from this valley we’re seeing to the S actually looks like a better route than where we’re at, but I don’t know if we can intersect it from here.

Let’s find out, SPHP! C’mon!

Heading W from HP6171, the ridge dipped a bit. A faint path went this way, which was an encouraging sign. Lupe soon came to another minor high point with a better view of the region she would have to traverse to get over to that other slope.

Following the use trail from **HP6171** toward the **summit** (R). Photo looks WSW.

Pausing for a glance N. **Mount Peterson’s N ridge** (L), **Muncho Lake** (R).

Decision time! Head straight for **Mount Peterson’s summit**, or make the traverse SW to the slope on the L? Photo looks W.

Looking ENE back along the ridge toward **HP6171** (R). **Muncho Lake** (far L).

I think we can get over there, Looper. Let’s try it!

You’re nuts, SPHP!

Abandoning the ridgeline, SPHP started the traverse over to the other slope. Lupe did not follow, remaining up on the ridge.

A few minutes of tedious rock-hopping on the steep slope was enough. The Carolina Dog was right! This traverse was going to take a month of Sundays, and it wasn’t even completely certain that it wouldn’t get too difficult to manage at some point. Abandoning the whole notion, SPHP rejoined Lupe on the ridge.

Welcome back, SPHP!

Thank you, Looper. Guess you’re right. Either this works, or we’re never going to get there.

Continuing W, Lupe was soon past the last of the easy stretch. The rate of climb now steadily steepened. Nothing but rock the rest of the way!

The first part of the steeper climb really wasn’t bad at all. Lupe gained a ton of elevation without any trouble at all, and the higher she got, the less daunting the rock bands ahead looked.

Not a bad scramble so far, although not very comfortable, either. Photo look W.

The crux of the matter came at around 6,750 feet. Staying along the S side of the ridge, the steep scramble on loose scree below outcroppings of bedrock got a little tricky. Rocks went clattering down the mountain, but not to an alarming extent. As always, the American Dingo had an easier time of it than SPHP did, but even SPHP managed to get past the worst of it.

Still 200+ feet to go, but it was now clear that Lupe was going to make it to the top of the ridge. What she might find there, and how hard it might be to get to the true summit, remained uncertain.

Loopster right up on the ridgeline. Photo looks N.

Lupe reached the upper end of the ridge at a wide gap in a spine of rock running N/S. Peering NW through the gap, the news was fantastic! The true summit was only 150 feet away, easily attainable. Heading N along the W side of the spine, the Carolina Dog reached an 8 foot wide ramp of scree that got her to a cairn at the top.

Nearly there! **True summit** (Center). Photo looks NW.

**True summit** (L), **Mount Peterson’s N ridge** (R). Photo looks NNW.

4:02 PM, 62ºF – Success! Lupe stood next to the cairn at the true summit of Mount Peterson (7,021 ft.). It was an airy perch. Not a lot of room up here! Beyond the American Dingo, a relatively flat, narrow summit ridge extended another 70 feet NNW. Beyond that, the ridge sank away to a lower level where it snaked a long way off to the N.

Next to the **summit cairn**. Photo looks NW.

Congratulations, Looper! Magnificent job, despite the hideous gnatmare! May I shake your paw?

You may, SPHP! And I believe you brought 2 chocolate coconut bars?

I most certainly did, and we’ve earned both!

SPHP sat just below the cairn facing SE. With no comfy spots available for Lupe on the mountain, she curled up on SPHP’s lap, instead. Both chocolate coconut bars were quickly and eagerly dispatched.

The views were stupendous! Directly ahead was the gap Lupe had come through to get here. Beyond it, the Alaska Highway was visible nearly 4,000 feet lower in a heavily forested valley. Silvery peaks extended to the horizon in all directions. Most topped out at elevations a little lower than Mount Peterson, although higher peaks were in sight, too.

**Gap in the rocky spine of the S ridge** (Center). Photo looks SSE.

Of course, the most eye-catching view was of Muncho Lake and Mount Peterson’s long N ridge.

**Muncho Lake** (Center), **Mount Peterson’s N ridge** (L). Photo looks N.

I like how the N ridge kind of snakes along like it does, SPHP. Makes the whole scene a little more dramatic.

Yup. Totally agree, Loop. Good thing we didn’t try to come here that way, though. Way too long and skinny. Would never have made it.

Ragged and narrow, Mount Peterson’s SW ridge wouldn’t have been a feasible route up either, not that SPHP had ever even considered it.

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

Another angle. **SW ridge** (L & Center). Photo looks SW.

With so little room to move around, most of the time Lupe was perfectly happy enjoying the views from SPHP’s lap. Only a few of the countless peaks in sight were significantly higher than Mount Peterson. Of these, Nonda Peak (7,822 ft.), a pyramid shaped spire to the NE, was closest. Peak 7562 earned an honorable mention.

Peak 7316 was perhaps the most interesting. Within reasonable striking distance of the Alaska Highway, its S slope looked like a relatively easy scramble. Perhaps a candidate for a future Lupe adventure?

**Nonda Peak** (L), **Peak 7316** (L of Center), **Peak 7562** (R of Center). The sunlit ridge in the foreground was Lupe’s ascent route. Photo looks NE.

**Nonda Peak** (Center). Photo looks NE with help from the telephoto lens.

**Peak 7316** (L), **Peak 7562** (Center), **Peak 7434** (far R). Photo looks ENE.

The big peak that stood out the most was a massive mountain far to the SSE beyond Mount Scott (8,000 ft.). This may have been Peak 8800. Several even more distant peaks to the SE looked impressive, too. A snowfield on Yedhe Mountain (8,914 ft.) helped to identify it.

**Mount Scott** (R of Center), **Peak 8800** (R). **Toad River valley** (foreground). Photo looks SSE with help from the telephoto lens.

**Peak 8800**(?) (R of Center) Photo looks SSE with lots of help from the telephoto lens.

Zoomed in on **Yedhe Mountain** (far R). Photo looks SE.

Peak 7100 was a mere 3 km due W, but since Mount Peterson’s SW ridge was so gnarly, Lupe couldn’t get there, which didn’t really matter since she wouldn’t have had time for it, anyway.

5:02 PM – An hour of glory high in the Muskwa Ranges had flown.

Hate to say it, but time’s up, Loopster! You ready?

I’m awfully comfortable right here, and Mount Peterson is an amazing perch, SPHP. It’s a perfect day, too!

I know it, but it’s a perfect day that’s almost shot. Going to be plenty late as it is before we get back to the RAV4.

Before departing, in accordance with longstanding tradition, Lupe stood proudly once more on Mount Peterson’s true summit.

Final moments at the **true summit**. Photo looks NW.

The descent began with Lupe leading the way down to the gap in the spine of the S ridge.

Heading down to the **gap** (Center). Photo looks SSE.

She was almost there when SPHP called a halt.

Hang on, Loop! I’ve been trying to remember to take a few summit shots with the new iPhone, and I forgot to do it.

We have to go back up, SPHP?

Yes, pretty please! This will only take a few minutes, Loopster. We’ll never get another chance, you know.

At least you remembered before we got halfway down the mountain, SPHP.

*Really? We have to go back up?* Photo looks SE.

Final, final moments on **Mount Peterson**. Photo looks NW.

As usual, SPHP was a super slow poke on the steep, rocky descent E of the gap, but did manage to get through it without incident. Took nearly an hour to get to the flat part of the ridge leading back to the big cairn with the pole at HP6171.

After that, even SPHP made great time. Already in shadow, the race was on to get as far as possible while it was still light out.

Heading down on a perfect evening! **Muncho Lake** (Center). Photo looks N.

This time, Lupe stayed on the S side of the gash. For quite a long way as dusk deepened, she was able to follow game trails very close to, or right along, the rim. After entering the forest, SPHP eventually led her a little way from the edge. Even with the flashlight, it was too dark to be on the brink of disaster.

Thankfully, all the gnasty gnats had gone to bed. The bushwhack was long and confusing enough as it was. The dense, black forest went on forever, and this route implausibly seemed considerably steeper than the N side of the gap had been. SPHP often resorted to clinging to trees, or sliding down treacherous slopes, while Lupe roamed in darkness.

Weary, every now and then, a short break was required. Kind of strange being here, yet a familiar feeling, too. Near exhaustion, alone together in a little circle of light, on an incredibly dark and remote mountainside.

At last, the ordeal was over. Lupe came to an enormous opening, an old moonlit gravel pit. Wandering easily across it, a road was found that soon led back to the Alaska Highway. Only a short, silent walk N on the empty road remained. What a fabulous, triumphant day! (11:48 PM)