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

Days 44 to 48 of Lupe’s 2nd Summer of 2022 Dingo Vacation to Canada & Alaska!

9-11-22, 7:02 AM, 31ºF – First night below freezing of this entire Dingo Vacation.  The R side of SPHP’s face and neck were a swollen mass of gnat bite upon gnat bite.  After taking 2 Benadryl, SPHP fired up the RAV4, then began driving slowly S on the Alaska Highway, turning up the heater when Lupe began trembling, shaking like a leaf.

You OK, Loop?  Are you cold, or is it something else?  Should warm up in just a few minutes.

Both, SPHP.  I’m cold, and not well.  Not sure what’s wrong with me.

Probably those hundreds of horrid gnat bites on your abdomen.  Wish I had some Dingo anti-histamines to give you, but you’ll just have to tough it out.  It’ll get better, but may take a while.

Two caribou near the road sent the Carolina Dog into a sudden frenzy, her cares temporarily forgotten.  Lupe continued to tremble for a long way, though, until the RAV4 warmed up, a process that took considerably longer than it should have, because she insisted on riding with her head out an open window facing directly into the cold wind.

The drive down the Toad River valley was gorgeous, but the highway eventually abandoned the scenic river for the next valley SE.  A favorite spot was just ahead.  After crossing the Alaska Highway bridge over the Racing River, SPHP turned into a pullout where there were dispersed camping sites hidden among the trees near the icy blue river.

The Racing River!  I remember this place, SPHP!  So incredibly beautiful!  Are we going to do our usual upstream romp again?

Later on, Loop.  Just going to hang out here for a while until we feel better.

9-11-22, 11:28 AM – SPHP wasn’t really much better yet, but it did feel good to be on the move again.  After driving back across the bridge, and parking the RAV4 at the start of another dispersed camping region, Lupe led the way to a familiar low bank overlooking the Racing River.

Alaska Highway bridge over the Racing River. Photo looks NE (downstream).

The Carolina Dog wasn’t healed up yet, either, but Lupe was enthusiastic during a 20+ minute romp upstream, sometimes roaming up on the bank sniffing her way through stands of young aspens just beginning to turn yellow, at other times roaming the sandbars and rounded, white stones of the exposed riverbed.

At the turnaround point, Lupe enjoyed a tantalizing view of Peak 7203 in the distance.  Highlands in front of it had always looked like a fun place to explore, but even they were a long way off, and the forest got thick only a little farther upstream.

Peak 7203 (R of Center) in the distance. Photo looks SSW.

By the time Lupe was back close to the Alaska Highway bridge again, blue sky was beginning to appear.

Turning sunny, SPHP!  There’s that little mountain we were always going to climb some day to get a view of the Racing River from on high.  We’re here now!  Are we ever actually going to do it?

Yes, but not today.  Racing Peak (4,409 ft.) is bigger than it looks.  More than 2,000 feet of prominence.  In any case, at the moment we’re too beat up from your Mount Peterson (7,021 ft.) adventure yesterday to take it on.  That’s the plan for tomorrow, though, if the weather stays decent.

Racing Peak (L) and Peak 5212 (R) from the Racing River. Photo looks NE.

9-12-22, 7:05 AM – Frosty this morning, a hard freeze.  Good!  Maybe the past couple of cold nights had put a sudden, permanent end to the gnats.

You didn’t OD on anti-histamines last night, SPHP?  You know, you really shouldn’t be taking the max dosage of more than one drug at a time.

True, but not taking them might have done me in even quicker.  Anyway, don’t worry about it.  I’m still here, and the swelling has gone down a lot.  Besides, I can’t keep my ODing attempt up much longer, even if I want to.  About to run out of Benadryl and everything else.  How’s your abdomen faring, Loop?  Any better?

Yes, thank you, SPHP.  And without taking a single anti-histamine.

Oh, that’s great news, Loopster, but you aren’t allergic to the world like I am.  That’s the difference.  I’ve got to have them.

Whatever.  Anyway, kind of cloudy today, but it doesn’t look threatening at all.  Are we still going to climb Racing Peak, SPHP?

Yup.  Let’s have some breakfast first, and let it warm up a bit, then we’ll be on our way.

9-12-22, 9:50 AM, 37ºF – After crossing the Alaska Highway, Lupe headed down a steep bank.  An opening in a fence line let her slip through down to the stoney, exposed riverbed.

Setting out for Racing Peak from the Alaska Highway. Photo looks SE.
On the exposed riverbed near the Alaska Highway bridge. Photo looks SE.

First time we’ll ever have explored downstream here, SPHP!

Yup, I know it!  Should be a blast, Looper!  Flat and easy start, although a bit bumpy, for a long way.

Following the Racing River downstream. Racing Peak (L), Peak 5212 (Center). Photo looks NE.

Lupe followed the Racing River only a relatively short distance before starting to angle away from it in the general direction of Racing Peak.  Vegetation was springing up along abandoned channels, some of which still had a little water in them.  No doubt the entire region still flooded now and then.

The floodplain was huge, but as Lupe got farther from the river, it was clear that most of it seldom saw significant flow.  Scattered stands of young trees were gradually taking over.

Heading for Racing Peak (Center). Photo looks NE.
S end of Racing Peak (L of Center) from an open lane. Photo looks NE.
Crossing a channel that had a little flow. Racing Peak (L), Peak 5212 (R).
Still on the floodplain, enjoying swift, easy progress. Photo looks NE.

Well away from the river, Lupe came to a stagnant pool the size of a small pond.  A 20 foot high vertical bank marking the NW edge of the floodplain was visible beyond it.  Following a broad, stoney channel NE from the pool, a trickle of water quickly became a substantial stream emerging from underground.  It soon got so big that crossing it was clearly going to be an issue.

Huh.  I’d hoped we could get closer to Racing Peak before having to leave the floodplain, Looper, but we better go back, if we don’t want to get wet.

Returning to the dry area near the stagnant pool, Lupe headed over to the 20 foot vertical bank.  A brief search revealed a break where it was possible to scramble up.

A vast region above the bank was flat, having also once been part of the floodplain eons ago.  Since the Racing River no longer flooded this area, the forest was mature and full of thick grass.  Fortunately, a network of game trails ran through it all.  Lupe had a fabulous time exploring, while still making good progress in the general direction of Racing Peak, which was no longer in view.

Exploring a game trail in the forest.

Lupe wandered N, trying this trail, or that, through various twists, turns, and intersections.  Of course, many soon simply vanished in the forest, requiring some bushwhacking to find another path.  At times, the forest got rather intense.  On the other paw, every now and then, the American Dingo ran into what amounted to a super highway.

This is awesome! Hardly any vicious gnats today, either, after the frost!
Searching for another path through the wilderness.
On a Dingo super highway.

As Lupe got deeper into the forest, the terrain wasn’t as flat.  The map showed a stream that would have to be crossed, but the Carolina Dog hadn’t come to it.  After half an hour, a shallow, dry ravine appeared.  N of the ravine, another trail led up a high bank to a region of tall aspens.

Heading up the next bank, which was bigger, but wasn’t so vertical.

This upper region was also fairly flat, but trails were scarcer here, which slowed progress somewhat.  That didn’t bother the American Dingo in the least.  Lupe was still having a grand time roaming at will.

On a faint trail along the edge of the upper flat region.
Farther on, off trail again among the tall aspens.

Loopster had been wandering the woods for an hour when she came to the first big slope.  Time to start climbing!  As she gained elevation, the trees began to thin out.  Glimpses of the S end of Racing Peak appeared ahead.  A good initial climb led to a beautiful sunlit forest thick with tall grass where the terrain wasn’t as steep.

Ascending the first big slope. S end of Racing Peak (R) visible between the trees. Photo looks NE.
In the sunlit, deep grass forest.

The flatter regions were much smaller now, but Lupe still came to some every now and then.  Most of the time, though, she was climbing rather steep slopes.  The steepest was a surprisingly treeless slope covered with bushes that she had to face fairly early on.

Still suffering the effects of the Mount Peterson adventure 2 days ago, SPHP toiled slowly higher, often pausing to gasp for air, or grab bushes for support.  An unexpected use trail with switchbacks helped make this super steep slope easier to get up than it otherwise would have been.

When Lupe finally reached the top, a short break was taken on a flat, roomy, grassy area.  Trees provided some shade, but this spot was open enough to permit initial views, too.

There’s what we came to see, SPHP!  The Racing River from on high!  Seems farther away than I thought it would be.

Pretty nice view, though, wouldn’t you say, Loop?  Should get even better as we keep climbing.

What’s that big mountain beyond the river, SPHP?  Does it have a name?

Not that I know of, Looper.  Elevation of 1,815 meters according to the topo map.  That would make it Peak 5955.

Peak 5955 (L) beyond the Racing River. Photo looks S.

Plenty of mountain yet to climb!  In fact, more than it appeared from this first break spot.  After a short rest, Lupe resumed her ascent.

The climb ahead from the first break spot. Photo looks NE.

Most of the time, Lupe ventured through open forest, but there were meadows, too.  The rate of climb remained aggressive enough to keep SPHP grinding slowly higher, but wasn’t as steep as before.  Sticking near the S edge of the mountain, intermittent views kept improving.

In a meadow, approaching another flat spot. Photo looks NE.
Peak 5955 (far L), Racing River (Center), Peak 7203 (R of Center). Photo looks SE.
On another grassy bench. Photo looks E.
A fabulous view of the Racing River. Peak 5955 (R). Photo looks SSE.

Racing Peak wasn’t all that big, but it seemed to be taking an incredibly long time merely to get to the high point at the S end of the mountain.  SPHP finally just sat down in the forest.  Lupe took a seat, too.

Relaxing in the forest.

Whew!  Let’s take a longer break, Loop.  Keep thinking we’re going to top out at any moment, but we don’t.  How much farther can it be?

You feeling OK, SPHP?  You’ve really been dragging on this one.  Maybe it’s all that Benadryl you’ve been taking?  Makes you drowsy, doesn’t it?

Yeah, but I don’t feel sleepy now, Looper.  My gnat bites are actually quite a bit better.  Just tired.  Surprised you’re so perky.  Your gnat bites must be considerably better, too.

I’m healing up fast, SPHP.

Really glad you’re doing so well, Loopster.  Give me a few more minutes, and we’ll carry on.

No big rush, SPHP.  We’ll get there!

The Carolina Dog was soon leading the way again, frequently glancing back to make sure SPHP was still coming.

Keep coming, SPHP! You can do it!

Got pretty steep again, but really nothing difficult about it, just a hike up a big hill.  SPHP summoned the energy from somewhere to keep at it.

3:44 PM –  The main reason for climbing Racing Peak (4,409 ft.) had been to see the beautiful Racing River from on high.  Mission complete!  Lupe now stood near the edge of towering SE facing cliffs at the S end of the mountain, enjoying a tremendous view of the Racing River more than 1,700 feet below.

The panorama included everything she’d been seeing earlier, including the Alaska Highway bridge where she’d started out from, Peak 5955, plus McDonald Creek, which was now in sight to the E.

The grand view from the S end of Racing Peak. Peak 5955 (L of Center), Racing River (R). Photo looks SSW.
Alaska Highway (L). McDonald Creek lies in the valley beyond it. Photo looks SE.

Well, we’ve seen what we came to see, SPHP!  The icy blue Racing River amid all these fabulous, unspoiled mountains.  Magnificent, isn’t it?

Absolutely!  Thrilled we finally did this, Loopster, but our adventure isn’t over yet.  As we’ve seen before from down by the river, this may be the best viewpoint, but it isn’t the true summit of Racing Peak.  Not even close.

Let’s complete our ascent then, SPHP.  Gotta make it official, you know!

Racing Peak’s summit was still nearly a mile NNW, and close to 500 feet higher.  After bidding the long dreamed of grand panorama farewell, Lupe headed that way.

The first part of this journey involved a short stretch through the forest on the W side of a long ridge.  Following a newly discovered path, Lupe gained 100 feet of elevation fairly quickly, reaching the rocky top of a long line of E facing cliffs.  From here it was possible to see more of the Racing River, all the way NE to its confluence with McDonald Creek.

Getting close to the top of the ridge. Photo looks NNE.
More of the Racing River. Confluence with McDonald Creek (L). Peak 5212 beyond. Photo looks ENE.
Confluence of the Racing River and McDonald Creek (far L). Photo looks ENE with help from the telephoto lens.

Returning to the path, Lupe continued NNW along the ridge, gaining only a little more elevation before coming to a drop.  A series of higher hills was now visible ahead.  Apparently, the most distant one was the summit of Racing Peak.

Continuing NNW along the ridgeline. Photo looks NE.
At the N end of the S ridge. Racing Peak summit (R). Photo looks NW.

The descent to the saddle leading to the next hill was a little steep, but not difficult.  Lupe was soon climbing again on an easier slope.  The top of this second high point proved to be choked with deadfall, part of the forest having previously burned, which considerably slowed progress while crossing the large, flat top.

In a pattern that would be repeated, each of the hills Lupe came to were higher than the previous ones, except for the 3rd and 4th, which were essentially the same elevation.  In each case, the W slopes were sunnier and more open, while the E sides were all forested.

Approaching the top of the next hill (2nd high point). Photo looks NW.
Racing River (Center) from the 2nd high point. Peak 5955 (L). Photo looks SW.

Racing Peak had 4 false summits in all, including the first ridge near the S end of the mountain.  The 3 hills past the ridge all had large, flat tops.  The dips after the third and fourth high points were relatively minor, their N slopes full of densely packed bushes waist high on SPHP.

View of the 3rd high point ahead (Center) after crossing the 2nd. Photo looks N.
Heading up the 2nd hill (3rd high point). Photo looks N.
Crossing the 3rd high point. True summit (R). Photo looks N.

The 250 foot ascent from the last saddle was the biggest and steepest of the journey NNW.  SPHP clung to trees and bushes during the first part, before reaching an open, gentler slope leading to a rounded top.

5:44 PM, 61ºF, Racing Peak (4,409 ft.) – A survey benchmark was shown on the topo map, but SPHP couldn’t find it.  Amid trees, bushes, and tall grass, it wasn’t even possible to positively identify an exact true summit.  A fairly large area toward the N end was nearly all the same elevation.  Lupe had clearly made it, though, all the way to the top of the mountain.

Happy, the Carolina Dog sat smiling in the evening sun.

At the true summit of Racing Peak. Photo looks S.

Congratulations, Loopster!  Took way longer than I thought it would, but here we are.

A dream come true, SPHP!  Been on my to do list for years.  It’s actually been fun, wandering the river’s floodplain, then the long, leisurely amble sniffing our way through the forest, and up the mountain.  Loved it!

Me too, Loop, but there’s not much to see right here.  Let me shake your paw, then why don’t we go take a nice, long break back at that last open slope with a view?

Great idea, SPHP!  Getting to be chocolate coconut bar time, isn’t it?  You did bring one, didn’t you?

Ah, you’re in luck, sweet Dingo!  Brought 2 to celebrate the occasion.

Retreating SW after sharing in the dispatch of the chocolate coconut bars, Lupe relaxed on a grassy slope where the Racing River was in view.  A gorgeous evening!  Comfortably cool, no wind, only a few clouds.  Surrounded by glory in far N British Columbia, Lupe watched the sun sink slowly toward the mountains until her eyes grew heavy.

The American Dingo may have dozed, as SPHP sat stroking her soft fur while admiring the scene.  A short section of the Toad River was in sight to the NW, and everywhere a host of unnamed, inaccessible wilderness mountains stretched to the horizon and beyond.

Relaxing on Racing Peak. Photo looks SW.
Looking back toward the summit. Photo looks NE.
A glimpse of the Toad River (L of Center). Photo looks NW.
End of a fabulous, late summer day. Photo looks W.

Nearly an hour flew by.

Hate to say it, but it’s about time, Looper.

Already, SPHP?  Can we revisit the true summit before we go?

But of course!

Back at the true summit, SPHP made a last brief effort to find the survey benchmark, but once again concluded that it was either long gone, or that finding it would be next to impossible.  In any case, exactly an hour after arriving, the Carolina Dog stood poised on Racing Peak’s SW slope ready to head down the mountain.

Back at the true summit. Photo looks S.
Starting the descent. Photo looks SW.

During the steep descent to the first saddle leading back to the 4 false summits, Lupe spotted a ptarmigan among the bushes, the only wildlife she’d seen, other than a little white and gray bird that had come flitting by while she’d been relaxing.

On the way down to the false summits (Center). Peak 5955 (R of Center), Racing River (R). Photo looks SSE.
The ptarmigan. Apparent lone ruler of a vast wilderness.

Once down to the first saddle, SPHP made an admittedly questionable decision.  Instead of a second journey over all the false summits again, why not head down right here?  The W slope didn’t look too bad, and Lupe could get down quicker this way.  Besides, a loop is almost always more fun, isn’t it?

Despite deadfall complicating Lupe’s descent of the upper W slope, it proved quite manageable.  The real issues began lower.  Still descending steeply, the American Dingo entered a vast, unavoidable region of dense bushes chest high, sometimes head high, on SPHP.

Progress was still possible, but, wow, was it ever slow going!

Hours ticked away.  Even twilight was gone, by the time Lupe managed to escape the bushes, and reach a creek she hadn’t seen before.  Flowing SE, SPHP knew it must ultimately vanish underground somewhere on its way to the Racing River.  Attempting to follow the creek downstream in the weak beam of the little flashlight, the valley was a dreadfully dark, steep-sided, confusing jumble of trees, branches, and deadfall.

SPHP kept hoping and expecting that this valley would broaden out into one of the flat regions Lupe had crossed this morning.  Didn’t happen.  The world is a very big place on paw.

Something had to be done!  SPHP had created a GPS track during Lupe’s ascent of Racing Peak, but had turned the iPhone off once she got there, because the battery was just about dead.  Although no maps at all of this region had been preloaded into the iPhone, at least Lupe could head for the GPS track.  Turning the iPhone back on, the track’s closest point was due E.

Can’t be too far, Loop.  0.5 km?  Let’s try to get to it.  At least we’ll be in the right area.

Climbing out of the narrow valley, Lupe reached easier terrain with far fewer obstacles.  Eventually working her way over to the ascent GPS track, she followed it SSW.  The iPhone’s battery ultimately went kaput, but not until she’d reached the 20 foot high vertical bank overlooking the Racing River’s floodplain.

9-13-22, the witching hour – A nearly full moon, just beginning to wane, had crept above the mountains illuminating the stoney floodplain of the Racing River when SPHP called a halt.  The night air was cold and still.  Lupe could see her breath.  All around loomed the dark shadows of the mountains.  The Racing River was close by, its icy blue waters now black, singing softly of the far N.

Lupe’s Racing Peak adventure would soon be over.  Weary, needing it to end, it was both a sad and happy thought.  Alone together at this magical moment, Lupe and SPHP relished the night, rejoicing in this amazing place, and all the day had brought.

Magic never lasts, but the spell was strong here, persisting all the way back to the RAV4.  (9-13-22, 1:37 AM, 31ºF)

9-13-22, 8:39 AM, Summit Lake, Stone Mountain Provincial Park A travel and rest day, but adventure was still in the air the next morning when Lupe dropped by the campground at Summit Lake to see Mount Saint George (7,402 ft.).  She’d nearly gotten to the top of it once, when sudden fog and an electrical storm had forced a retreat.

Mount Saint George (L) from Summit Lake. Photo looks SW.

As it turned out, Racing Peak was the Carolina Dog’s last adventure of this final Dingo Vacation of the Summer of 2022.  Late in the afternoon coming into Fort John, the sky had been smoky ever since leaving Fort Nelson.  Highway 29 up the Peace River valley back into mountainous territory was unexpectedly closed due to wildfires.

Nearly mid-September.  Summer was about shot, and Lupe was already back into the smoke.  Oh, well.  Probably time to head home, anyway.

The long drive continued the next 2 days.  Lupe saw mountains, but didn’t climb any.  All outings were brief.

9-15-22, 5:53 PM, 64ºF – A light rain was falling as Lupe arrived home.  Her Summer of 2022 Dingo Vacations had been awesome!  She’d climbed fabulous peaks from Wyoming to Alaska’s North Slope.  For the first time in 3 years, the Most High Exalted Dingo of the Arctic Sisterhood had returned to the far N, venturing all the way to Deadhorse near Prudhoe Bay of the Arctic Ocean.

Good to be home again, but depressing to think that these precious long days of summer glory were all in the rear view mirror now.

Making matters worse, when SPHP checked email, there was a message from Uncle Joe and Aunt Andrea saying that Cousin Dusty had died early this very morning while Lupe had been crossing Montana.

On Racing Peak. Muskwa Ranges, British Columbia, Canada 9-12-22

Links:

Next Adventure                     Prior Adventure

Lupe’s GPS Track

Remembering Cousin Dusty

Summit Peak & Mount Saint Paul, Stone Mountain Provincial Park, British Columbia, Canada (8-4-17)

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

Want more Lupe adventures?  Choose from Lupe’s Summer of 2022 Dingo Vacations to Wyoming, 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.
Entering the forest. 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.

In the mossy forest.

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.

On the little ridge. Photo looks SSE.

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.
At the tiny stream. Photo looks SW.

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.
Muncho Lake (R). Photo looks N.
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!

Going for it! Photo looks WNW.

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.
On Mount Peterson. Photo looks NW.

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.

Peak 7100 (L). Photo looks WNW.

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.

On Mount Peterson. Photo looks NW.
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)

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

Links:

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Lupe’s GPS Track

Muncho Lake Provincial Park

Northern Rockies Lodge at Muncho Lake

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