Mount Garibaldi
Via Brohm Ridge
June 21-22, 2021
There are a variety of emotions one could go through when hearing the phrase “potentially active”. Socio-economic analysts for instance, would be delighted at its mention and delve into a comprehensive rant about the labour market, unemployment, and whatever else socio-economic analysts discuss. Their spouses on the other hand, not so much. But when it comes to volcanoes, “potentially active” typically instills a sense of fear, uncertainty, and worry. This is largely due the excessive amounts of lava, ash, and hot gas which could at any moment spew out of the mountain should volcanologists choose to remove “potentially”. At the moment, there are five such volcanoes in Canada. One of them being Mount Garibaldi.
Mount Garibaldi is a very impressive stratovolcano looming over the city of Squamish and the surrounding Garibaldi Provincial park. A park where I have spent a considerable amount of time hiking, camping and generally frolicking about. Each time I would visit, the dominating volcano would become more alluring. I knew I wanted to eventually climb it. It’s uncertain promise of a fiery death didn’t particularly worry me, but with CBC news periodically reminding us of the big one earthquake I thought it was time to make my move before the Juan de Fuca plate made theirs turning the peak into a crater or a crumbled pile of rock.
There are a variety of routes up to the summit with the crux of the journey being a bergschrund which becomes impossible, or at least inconvenient to cross by mid-summer. By late summer, it becomes a chossy mess. That is why many choose to ski it in the winter or early spring. Unfortunately, I do not ski, and as someone of both Canadian and Swiss nationality some may say it’s a tragedy. I aimed for late May to early June when hopefully there remained a sturdy snow bridge but we wouldn’t posthole either. Of the many ascent routes, Brohm Ridge was the best contender. It stood out as one of the shortest and most convenient. Mostly because a logging road takes care of a considerable amount of elevation.
As I began to plan, three of my friends immediately came to mind: Caleb, Amanda, and Gabe. They would each bring their own unique perspective to this mountaineering outing. Caleb, a strong proponent of the zip-off pant. Amanda, an advocate for sesame snaps. Gabe, the originator and continued supporter of the adventure pyjamas. They were quick to agree but slow to commit, so I forced a date: May 22-23. However, as the trip approached it became clear that the weather had other ideas. Perhaps I had flaunted my lack of raingear to the heavens on one too many trips, reveling in the saved weight and the expectation of clear skies. Regardless, there wasn’t much we could do so we bowed out in respect as one must never underestimate the weather. He is judge, jury and brutal executioner of all mountaineering trips. Even on something as tame as Mount Garibaldi. But luckily, due to my ‘potentially active’ status in the eyes of all socio-economic analysts, I had plenty of time for a reschedule. Gabe on the other hand is a productive member of society so we left him behind as the weather forecast and our schedules cleared for a June 21-22 ascent. The plan was to drive up Cheekeye FSR as far as we could manage, camp at the edge of Garibaldi glacier, then summit the next morning heading out that same day.
Driving was relegated to Amanda as she had the most suited car for the rough logging roads: a Toyota Highlander. Not ideal, but better than both an Audi hatchback or a minivan. See, there are many breathtaking hikes near Vancouver but the most popular ones are only a taste of what you can see. Most lie off the main roads, high up, and deep into the woods. Therefore their access lies in the hands of the prolific logging industry who have built many winding roads over the mountains and down through the valleys. This leads to great access…if you possess the right vehicle that is. As we are all still just getting used to this notion of adulthood and all of our spare cash goes straight to MEC, we do not have cars of our own. Thus, we are restricted to the vehicle purchases of our parents who, while perhaps adventurous in their time, now have neither the fitness nor the time for these remote adventures (except for you Lorne), so have appropriate transportations. My mother’s Audi hatchback had already been through enough, and while I don’t often sympathize with inanimate objects, I do feel bad for that car so the Highlander it was. We departed at around 1pm and because Amanda was driving, we soon made it up the Sea to Sky to the Cheekeye FSR turnoff. No doubt she even managed to get a few emails sent along the way. That’s multitasking if I’ve ever seen it.
The road was rough, rough enough for us to all gain a deep insight into the experiences of a bobble head. We aimed for the snowmobile club sitting at just under 1500m of elevation and after a slow ascent with wonderful views of the Tantalus range, we reached an impassable divot. With the smell of burning rubber, we put the car into reverse and parked at exactly 1000m. So began a short but tedious logging road trek in the hot sun. We hit snow at around 1100 and arrived at the club in no time. Caleb opted to bring snowshoes while Amanda and I didn’t want the extra weight as their benefits were minimal. Caleb’s opinion may vary. From there it was a dash uphill in sun baked snow until we gained Brohm ridge where the grade lessened. With a view of Garibaldi we stopped for dinner to refuel: Couscous with peperoni sticks, a favourite of Caleb’s.
We soon returned to the trail which followed Brohm ridge, over a tall bump, then up towards a rocky moraine.
As we hiked, the sun fell lower in the sky bathing everything in a magnificent orange light. The view progressively became grander offering a beautiful panorama of Garibaldi, Tantalus and Howe Sound. We arrived at our camp just as the sun dropped below the mountainous horizon. Several tent spaces had been cleared amongst the rocks. Any earlier in the season, they likely would have been in use. We were happy to find that we had the mountain to ourselves.
The night was warm and comfortable with the freezing altitude well above us at around 4000m. A nearly full moon eliminated the need for our headlamps. A constant rumble of falling rocks and snow eased us to sleep.
At dawn my alarm woke us and we rolled out of our sleeping bags to a brilliant pastel sunrise. We couldn’t have gotten luckier with the weather.
After a classic breakfast of instant oatmeal and coffee, we donned our glacier gear and tied in. Between the three of us, we only had two sets of crampons and two ice axes. Luckily it wasn’t the same for the harnesses. A well worn path guided us across Warren glacier then up a steep incline to gain the North Pitt Glacier.
The bergschrund then came into view. It cut right across most of the old tracks and we realized that we had timed this trip perfectly. There were only two snow-bridges left and one of them was placed rather inconveniently way off to the right of the route. Crossing that would result in a long traverse back to the left on steep snow and under crumbling rock. Worryingly some of the tracks in the snow were in fact not tracks but the trail of destruction from fallen rocks. We decided to aim for the bridge close to the centre of the bergschrund.
The snow bridge we had decided on was a rather inconvenient looking one, but it would minimize the traverse time. As we approached the bergschrund, we realized it was far less intimidating than it looked from a distance. At only a few meters deep, it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to clamber out if one should decide to fall in and, depending on ones determination, it was probably possible to claw your way over it.
Getting past the bergschrund wasn’t as simple as waltzing over the snow bridge. There were a couple slick steps upwards on rock and snow where an ice axe was necessary for purchase. Caleb clambered up first. He found an old sling slung around a rock and put Amanda and I on belay, if only to practice anchor making skills in situ. Safely above the crux, we traversed out left under the crumbling rock then headed up.
After a short section of very steep postholeing, we reached the summit. Finally, after all these years I could gaze down upon Squamish and the surrounding Garibaldi Park rather than up. I am not one prone to overexcitement but there was plenty of satisfaction. It was only 8am so we spent over an hour on the summit soaking in the views, the sun, and the achievement. As usual there was a logbook, so we made our mark in the records. Interestingly, the logs went all the way back to September 20, 1982 with Franz Bislin and Scott Mason’s entry. Odd to imagine they could very well have gone straight from the mountain into a showing of E.T. or Blade Runner. And it would have been that weird theatrical release of Blade Runner with the voice over and happily ever after ending. Let’s hope they’ve since seen the Final Cut.
While our ascent was rather quick, it was no comparison to the descent. There is nothing more satisfying than descending snow of the perfect softness. Upon reaching the bergschrund, we opted to jump across it rather than traverse back over to the bridge. Much simpler. When we got back to camp, a loud rumbling caused our heads to turn as we caught a view of what had been serenading us all night. A snowy rockfall. Garibaldi really is a crumbling pile of rock, snow, and ice.
After packing up our camp we sped back down. Back on the logging road, there was a clear difference in amount of snow. Over the day we were gone, the hot sun had revealed much of the previously hidden road. After a quick descent bordering on speed walking, we reached our car. It had been exactly 24 hours after we departed…down to the minute. Chugging the waiting Gatorade, we carefully drove back down.
It really is nice to be able to look up every time I drive the Sea to Sky and think yep, I was there. And when the big one finally does hit and Garibaldi either crumbles to dust or explodes in a fiery mess, I’ll at least have photos of me standing triumphantly on top a peak where now stands a crater.