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Three and a half hours of hiking straight up the trail to Wavy Ridge had exhausted our reserves of energy and made our spindly canoe legs feel like spaghetti, rubber and jelly all at the same time. Drenched in sweat and wheezing away, we finally broke through the trees into emerald alpine meadows at about 6200 feet. A spectacular expanse of stunning mountain views opened up all around us. Wendie, who was the first one into the open, just stopped dead in her tracks and let out a breathless "Wow!" |
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A Tripper’s Journal by Steve Flawith |
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In
the Beginning...
This motley group of Comox Valley Paddlers had traveled all the way from our hometown of Courtenay, BC on Vancouver Island to Well’s Grey Provincial Park approximately 200 kilometers north of Kamloops in British Columbia’s central interior. Our goal was to explore Murtle Lake, a large body of water in the eastern side of the park, by canoe and foot and experience the solitude of one of BC’s biggest and most beautiful lakes along the western edge of the Rocky Mountains. The bonus of this trip was that the lake is a designated canoe only area with no powered craft of any kind allowed, in other words, a canoeist’s paradise. The only way in is by a 2.5 kilometer canoe portage from the trailhead which is itself at the end of a long 28 kilometer drive on a rough, narrow and winding mountain gravel road with some very interesting vertical drop offs.
Our small band consisted of 11 CV Paddlers, 4 pickup trucks, 5 canoes and 1 kayak. And it had taken a small miracle of planning and logistics over the previous couple of months in order to get everyone and everything to this same spot on the map at the same time (yes… Virginia, miracles do happen!).
We regrouped for a last meal of real food (you know burgies and fries…) at a small restaurant in Blue River, a small settlement on the Yellowhead Highway approximately 200 kilometers north of Kamloops. Brian and Cathy had come up two day’s prior and done some exploring around the area while waiting for the rest of the gang to arrive. Norm and Denise had left a bit later delayed somewhat by a severe case of packing overload stress and had joined up with them at a local campground just the night before. Kim, Sue, Deb, Steve, Wendie, Michel, and Blanche came up together, all caravanning in two pickup trucks (now we know what sardines feel like!), timing their arrival just in time for that last civilized meal at Sunday noon. Mmmmm… those burgers and fries were really fabulous and an excellent way to start off our expedition.
Then pumped up and excited we all scrambled back into our vehicles and were off up the aforesaid rough and rocky mountain road to the trailhead. All arrived at the parking lot okay, although Norm and Denise had a heart stopping couple of seconds when their truck started to slip sideways off the rocky road as they were carefully working their way past some oncoming traffic.
At road’s end there was mad pandemonium as truck doors flew open and everyone dashed around untying canoes and throwing out all sorts of packs and bags out onto the ground and then tried to figure out how to make it all fit into their canoes and onto their backs for the initial 2.5 kilometer portage to Murtle Lake (we could have started our own outdoors store with all that equipment laid out there on the ground!). Deb and Sue took the prize for “Biggest Load Ever on a Canoe Cart”… any bigger and they would have needed dual wheels!
With a lot of that last minute panic - should we take it or leave it decisions, the group finally started off down the portage trail in the late afternoon sun with canoes filled to the gunwales and packs overflowing. The trail was actually quite good, hard and wide enough for our canoe wheels to roll easily. (Yes, Martha, we all took canoe carts… this crowd is well over 40) No one really noticed that the insidious path was mostly downhill to the put-in… besides the return trip was still a whole week away!
The previous days had seen a lot of rain in the Murtle Lake area but the skies had cleared up while we were traveling and now the sun was out and there was a light warm breeze. The walk (and pull) through the scented forest was quite enjoyable and we arrived at the lake edge around fourish.
The shoreline was a bit steep leading down to the muddy and rocky beach and
loading area, which made things a little mucky. However everyone pitched in and
helped get all the canoes and the lone kayak into the water. Bags, packs and
gear lay heaped everywhere but with a lot of banter between all the old farts
and fartesses eventually the beach was cleared off, and the boats were loaded
and paddlers aboard. With raised paddles and a joyful “yeehaw” we were finally
off on our paddling adventure!
Murtle Lake is the largest in Wells Gray Park and has about 100 kilometers of shoreline and is shaped like a reverse “L”. At the upper end of the “L”, water enters the lake from numerous streams that run down from the high surrounding mountains. The largest is the Murtle River, which flows down from glaciers in the Cariboo Mountains into the very top of this fjord-like arm of the lake.
The water here is quite a bit colder than in the southwest arm. It’s due to combined factors such as the cold glacier river flowing southwards, the extreme depth of the water, and also perhaps the surrounding high mountains shadowing the lake early and late in the day. It’s about 20 kilometers from the lagoon entrance to the northern end of the arm and it can be paddled in a day if the wind and weather allow. Word has it that it can be very windy here and that it comes up very quickly.
The south arm is a little shorter, approximately 16 kilometers, and is quite different. The surrounding mountains are lower and set back a bit from the lake, which opens up the views into the farther reaches of the Park. There are a number of small islands spread throughout this arm and the water is much shallower with large sandy beaches scattered around the perimeters. Consequently the water temperature is a lot warmer than up the North Arm. At the extreme western end, remnants of volcanic activity replace the sandy shores with black rocky beaches. Water runs out of the lake via the fast flowing Murtle River which is famous world over for it’s spectacular waterfalls, especially the renowned Helmeken Falls.
First
Camp...
From the put-in we paddled down the small lagoon to the western end where a shallow reedy pass connected it to Murtle Lake proper. At the far end of this narrow passage quite a vista opened up revealing beautiful sandy shores inside a two-kilometer wide bay. Further out the huge expanse of the rest of the lake could be seen disappearing north up into the long fjord and westwards out into the more open hills. A light breeze from the west was pushing up small wavelets that lapped gently upon the sandy beach, now turned a golden hue by the setting sun.
The first campsites appeared at the lagoon’s opening to the big lake area and some discussion ensued as the group weighed the pros and cons of traveling further down the lake so late in the day. Common sense prevailed and we elected to set up camp just at the edge of the trees above the long, sloping sandy beach. It was a good choice as it had already been a long day of travel and the first stage hunger pangs reminded us that our earlier excellent lunch was now just an empty memory.
After camp was set and dinner was done, we all gathered around the campfire enjoying the evening’s quiet and discussed our plans for the next few days.
Norm, Denise, Brian and Cathy had decided to seek Nirvana (and maybe a trout or two) at a place called Tropicana Beach which was somewhere down the western arm of the lake, while the rest of us expressed a desire to explore up the northern side. It was agreed that in three days we would meet somewhere in the middle of the two arms using the “ole Indian telegraph” to track each other down.
So early next morning the group split up and paddled off in different directions, each cheerily wishing the other Bon Voyage and safe journey.
The “A” Team consisted of Steve, Wendie, Michel, Blanche, Deb, Sue and Kim. An excellent day was at hand with a totally blue sky and cool but warming sun peaking over the edge of eastern peaks. Only one thing marred an otherwise idyllic start.
During the pack up and loading process Deb and Sue became aware of an insidious
plot by Kim to have them carry all his extra equipment (and food) in their canoe
because… hey!… after all, it was just paddling from now on anyways wasn’t it?
Well… a somewhat animated discussion on the beach followed which resulted in Deb
and Sue setting up a Sherpa’s Union and demanding a raise in pay and, of course,
more food and goodie rations. Kim, knowing how difficult Sherpa’s can be (not to
mention being outnumbered) wisely negotiated a deal, promising them extra
goodies and a gourmet dinner on his next cook night. With the ruffled feathers
smoothed and the girls’ freighter canoe finally loaded we all paddled slowly
northwards on calm waters.
Around mid-morning we stopped to investigate Strait Creek campsite. The site faced westward across the widest part of the Murtle Lake and looked directly down the west arm across a long pebbly and moderately shallow beach. Small, clear fast flowing Strait Creek dropped out of a mountain valley a couple of kilometers directly behind the area and, over the years, had made a large gravel bench where it emptied into the main lake. The campsite was spread along the top of the bench just at the edge of the trees. It was a perfect campsite, a gentle breeze to blow away the bugs, fresh clear water, trees nicely spaced for tarping as well as shade, and fabulous view of the lake! A quick pow-wow was called right then and there… and when it was mentioned that there was also a hiking trail up into the ridges behind us that was it. We decided to put down roots right here even though it wasn’t even noon yet (well… you do have to stop and smell the roses sometimes… right?!).
A second snap decision was made during unloading to attempt the hike up into the mountains as soon as everyone had their camp setup. The guidebook said it should only be about seven kilometers one-way so we figured that we could get up and back in time for the happy hour. So off we went down the beach to the trailhead. By this time the early morning cool was long gone and the sun was making things very warm. Once into the trees it was much cooler and very pleasant walking until we unwittingly disturbed the hoards of bloodthirsty mosquitoes which lived there, forcing everyone to keep moving or become part of the food chain. Under the old growth forest canopy, the scenery was especially beautiful. The trail wound ever upwards through the mossy carpet until we reached a junction in the path. Left to go up to the ridges or straight ahead to follow the valley bottom.
Being suckers for
mountains we turned left and started up a now very steep trail that led directly
up along the edge of
the ridge. The path did not vary from the fall line at all… every step forward
was also a step up. Ten minutes, fifteen, then thirty minutes… stop get breath,
wipe off sweat, kill bugs, start up again… another thirty minutes… rest, wipe,
kill, start… another eternity… do the same… ever upward in the trees… no view…
ack!!!… is this ever going to end??? Time marching on… hungry… energy going…
need food… okay stop!… eat something now… rest a bit… start again… if we don’t
get there soon… must turn around at two thirty and head back… legs gone!… one
more rise… hey, see a bit of lake… wow… sure are getting high… gotta be over
6000 feet now… think it looks a bit alpiney here… hey… Wendie out front in
clearing, it’s a meadow… she’s waving at us… look around… HOLY SMOKES!!! What a
view!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The map indicated we
were on top of Wavy Ridge, which was part of Wave Crest Peak and the Wavy Range
of mountains that ran along the eastern side of Murtle Lake. At this elevation
six thousand two hundred feet the view was simply
stunning. We were all awe struck and at a loss for words to describe this
spectacular vista of alpine meadows, emerald lakes, towering mountains and razor
sharp ridges, all in a crystal blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds. And in
the surrounding meadows pika’s could be heard whistling a warning that strangers
were trespassing in their land. It was wonderful!
Unfortunately time waits for no paddler. So after lots of pictures and a much too short thirty-minute rest, we regretfully climbed back down the Stair Master’s path to Heaven and stumbled into camp hot, sweaty and tired but still buzzing from our trip to the roof of the world. The beach was immediately strewn with all types of clothing, as everyone ripped off shirts and pants in a heated rush to cool off in the waiting lake.
The excellent weather held as our small group paddled on up the North Arm.
The sky was clear with no wind, the sun was hot and the mirrored surface of the
water reflected the surrounding mountains perfectly. It was truly a canoer’s
paradise! (no slight intended for the lone kayaker [Kim]). Pristine fine white
pebbly beaches were scattered along the way separated by vertical rock walls and
cliffs dropping sharply into the depths of the lake. We shadowed a school of
lake trout in the crystal clear water along the shore and saw huge osprey nests
up in the crags at the edge of the forest. The quietness of the place was
intense.
At Eagle Point we
decided to haul out for the day and set up for the night. After a break and
lunch we continued the last few kilometers in empty boats to explore the very
end of the lake (except for Kim who wanted some Zen time on the beach and
de-stress from riding herd on the two Sherpa’s, Deb and Sue). Here the frigid
Murtle River rushes down from glaciers high up in the northern part of the park.
As we entered the river
mouth the bottom of our boats suddenly felt ice-cold and helped to cool us off a
bit in the blazing heat of the afternoon sun. Close to the base of Pyramid
Mountain where the rushing waters overcame our frantic forward paddling Blanche
and Michel gave us an excellent display of peel-outs and cross-drawing
techniques in the turquoise river’s rapid currents before we turned and coasted
quietly back down to the lake.
The very last campsite at the end of the lake was explored quickly as the sun was hot, the beach shallow and muddy and the bugs very irritating. We enjoyed a slow paddle back to camp craning our necks all the while to look waayyy up at all the high peaks surrounding us and then went for a nice cooool swim before creating another sumptuous outdoor dinner repast.
Two Parks Wardens, who were traveling by Park’s motor launch, the only motor
boat allowed on the lake, dropped in to check us out and told us that we were
the only people up in the North Arm. We had a nice chat and learned that Margot
was from Holland and Andrea from Germany, and they shared the job at Murtle Lake
with their husbands in the summer and in winter worked in town. They loved being
outdoors and really enjoyed taking care of the park and the people who come to
see it. We would have loved to chat with them longer but time was pressing for
them, as they had to do a complete check and clean of all the campsites in the
north arm before nightfall. So we gave them a message to deliver to Team “B” and
then enthusiastically waved them both off as they accelerated down the lake.
Special mention here
has to go to Sherpa Deb’s slick little Hennessy Hammock,
which has it’s own built-in rain proof cover. The thing packed up into nothing
and was very light, and can be strung between two reasonably sized trees over
just about any type of ground. Apparently it worked out very well for her during
the trip, and was quite comfortable and very easy to get into and out. It was
also a good source of entertainment for the rest of us as this moving
contraption looked all the world like a giant wiggling cocoon which would
eventually spit out an emerging and almost dressed butterfly called “Debra”!
Seriously though… it was a very unique sheltering system and worthy of
consideration for lightweight tripping.
Our longest day of
paddling was also one of our most enjoyable. We followed the western shore of
the north arm all the way down, around the inside of the reverse “L” shape and
deep into the west arm. The sun was out enforce again; the sky cloudless and the
water flat calm all the way. We dallied, taking time out to explore a number of
fabulous campsites, fish for trout and Kokanee (which made for another gourmet
lunch thanks to that ardent
angler, Michel), and cool
off swimming whenever we felt the need to beat the heat.
Blanche will forever remain in our memory as the very elegant lady who, after wading along the beach in water up to her thighs, decided that she must take her pants off in order to keep them dry. The rest of us just about croaked laughing at her comical attempt to try to remove her already wet pants while standing up to her knees in the lake. When this classy lady finally realized what she was doing and how silly it must have looked, she lost her composure completely and joined with us in the gales of laughter echoing around the little cove. It was a Murtle moment to treasure forever!
The “B” Team members consisted of our other two couples, Brian and Cathy, and Norm and Denise, in two 17-foot Clipper canoes. After the “A” Team left them on the beach on the morning of Day 2, they leisurely finished loading up and made for the west arm, passing the Ranger cabin about half way there and arriving mid-afternoon at Tropicana Beach campsite.
Tropicana is one of the most popular of Murtle Lake’s campsites. The beach is
very sandy and wide with the sand running up through the pine trees and
spreading throughout the camping areas. The lake bottom all along this area is
quite sandy and shallow and the water is very warm for swimming. Another plus
was no bugs! This was really amazing for this part of the country where
mosquitoes, noseeums and horseflies can, at times, take a bit of the joy out of
camping outdoors.
This team’s next
couple of days included a lot of rest and relaxation around the campsite
enjoying the sun and surf.
One day was spent paddling
and hiking to beautiful MacDougall Falls on the lower Murtle River. This
excursion provided them a bit of excitement by running some minor rapids from
the big lake through a small chute into little Diamond Lagoon which marks the
end of canoeable navigation a this end of the arm. The river exits the southern
end of the lagoon and is classed as unrunnable whitewater from here on. Off to
the side of the lagoon a sign shows the way to the start of the
six-kilometer
hiking trail down to the falls.
One of the best things about Murtle Lake is the abundance of loons. At this time of the year they seem to flock to the lake in pairs and their haunting calls can be heard everywhere. Sometimes when fishing submerged, they will pop to the surface right beside a tripping canoe and scare the bejessus out of both themselves and the canoeists. It all adds to the wonder of a Murtle Lake canoe trip!
A Celebration...
The Indian Telegraph must be real. Some canoeists going the opposite way passed along the “B” team’s presence at Tropicana Beach camp in the west arm to us. Our arrival at this well-known beach site was like an old homecoming. You’d thought we hadn’t seen each other in years instead of three days. It was great to camp together again and tell each other the stories and happenings of the last few days. A most enjoyable clear, warm evening followed around the campfire with more tails of past exploits told and plans for the future made. A small ceremony was held in celebration of Norm’s newly attained status as an official “Elder” and he was presented with a ration (or three) of rum and the little gift or two to help ease the pain. As another golden sunset faded away and the evening lengthened into night, a myriad of shooting stars from the Persoid Meteor Shower flashed sporadically overhead, lending a magical air to our little gathering by the fire on the beach in the wilderness.
With the “A” team’s tales of beautiful campsites, stunning scenery and stupendous fishing up in the
North Arm, the “B” team had decided that they must have a looksee for
themselves. So early next morning, they broke camp and paddled off into the
rising sun in search of that elusive Shangri-La.
Funny things happen to you when you travel out there in the wilderness. It may take a few days but eventually the protective shell that surrounds and isolates you from the natural world starts to fall away little by little. The days start to take on a natural rhythm and you find yourself living and enjoying each moment as it comes. Companions are cherished, worries fade away, laughter comes easier and time seems suspended…
After spending
another glorious day exploring the end of the west arm and hiking to MacDougall
Falls our little group felt a tugging urge to move on. Canoe tripping will do
that to you… to see what’s just around that next intriguing point of land or in
that little bay over there. Maybe it’s a great new view or that perfect campsite
or a wild river running free. The paddle will not let you rest until it takes
you there…
As usual, we left early to enjoy paddling in the cool morning air and put some miles on before it got too hot. The weather was still holding sunny and hot with cloudless blue sky’s. The temperature had climbed hotter each day so far during the trip and today was no exception. We stopped briefly to explore pretty Leo and Fairyslipper Islands before gauging the wind and making the long open crossing to Park Ranger Headquarters three kilometers away. There is always a certain amount on tension on these open crossings knowing that even though the weather looks perfect there is still some risk in being so far from shore should something unforeseen happen. We calculated the risks, overrode our stomachs, stayed close together and made for the far shore forty five minutes away.
Only Andrea was in at
the Ranger cabin when we arrived (Margot had gone “outside” to civilization for
a break and a resupply) and she graciously showed us through her summer “home
away from home”. The picturesque log structure was spotlessly clean and
organized and it had a beautiful view of the lake. We could only dream dreamy
thoughts of living Andrea and Margot’s idyllic summer life here in wilderness
splendor on Murtle Lake’s shores.
Too soon we were
moving again, slowly paddling across mirrored still waters in search of that
Holy Grail, a “nice sandy beach” for lunch and a swim. Noon found us at, and
this is too good to be true, a campsite called “Sandy Point”. It was that too, a
beautiful sandy point with several nice campsites just in the trees beside the
beach. Only one thing marred this perfect spot. It was already occupied! A lazy
lunch was enjoyed in the shade gazing out across the calm waters of the widest
part of Murtle Lake.
As the day had
reached the point of being just about too hot to paddle, a languid discussion
ensued about the pros and cons of moving on until it was eventually agreed that
we should finish off our trip by staying once again at our original first camp
at Strait Creek. It had a nice wide clean swimming beach
,
good fresh water and, best of all, a great view of the setting sun.
So off we went, to roasting in the afternoon heat, to cross the vast expanse of the main lake again with our senses tuned to maximum, wary for any signs of change in weather.
Joyful Reunion...
Late in the afternoon
the flotilla made landfall at our last camp of the trip. Some familiar figures
on the shore waved us
in. It was the “B” team of Brian, Cathy, Norm and Denise! We thought they would
be still fishing somewhere up in the North Arm. So another homecoming
celebration was officially declared and the usual Comox Valley Paddler’s feast
was set out. All manner of gourmet edibles were somehow mysteriously created and
then ravishly consumed along with gallons of the appropriate beverages. As in
all CV Paddler gatherings this then led straight into the formal dinner followed
by a myriad of delightful desserts and topped off late in the evening with a
number of toasts to each other, all done around a crackling good campfire. As
the long summer’s evening deepened into a warm blue-black night and the
twinkling stars slowly filled the sky overhead we all reluctantly drifted off to
our tents.
Our last day on Murtle Lake turned out to be just a plain easygoing R&R day. Everyone just did whatever felt good to do. The weather was again magnificent, hot and sunny all day. Some wanted to hike in the forest, some to fish down the lake, some to just hang out, read and swim all day at camp.
One pair found a deserted beach and…
The air was still, not a breath moved all day. A pall of heavy smoke from a growing forest fire could be seen a couple of ridges away to the north of the lake. It continued to get bigger throughout the afternoon but the still air kept it drifting straight up into the sky and away from our Shangri-la. Towards evening it colored the sky a burnt orange as the sun dropped behind the far off hills and it’s refracted glow illuminated the top of Wavy Ridge in an ethereal light bringing back memories of our hike up to the mountain’s glorious alpine meadows.
It is not the Destination but the Journey...
Our last supper was a happy but somewhat melancholy affair knowing that tomorrow
would bring an end to this wonderful trip on Murtle lake. The North Arm, the
West Arm, the beaches, campsites, scenery, weather, fishing, hiking, and the
fellowship of the paddle…
It is not the destination but the journey…
A “Bonne Journée”!
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To: Michel, Blanche, Deb, Sue, Kim, Norm, Denise, Brian and Cathy, wonderful companions all, who made this a very special trip to remember. Steve & Wendie
