The Skagit River

In the province of British Columbia, Canada, about a hundred miles east of Vancouver sits a valley which contains a river known as the Skagit. It mostly runs from north to south in its Canadian section before entering Ross Lake at the border. The river’s total length is about 150 miles, and it enters the Pacific Ocean near Mt. Vernon, Washington, but this story will only deal with the Canadian portion of its course.

I’ve had an interesting history with the Skagit River Valley. It began on May 14, 1977. I was standing at the edge of the Trans-Canada Highway, about 30 miles east of the city of Chilliwack, hitchhiking. My old beater VW Beetle was parked a few feet away, and there it would sit until my little adventure was over. It didn’t take long before a vehicle pulled over and in I hopped. There I sat in the company of Ross and Sonja Lillie, their son Eric, and their friend Brian Rundle. They were heading south to attempt a climb of Mt. Hozameen, a tough peak just south of the border. In the 28 miles I rode with them, we got to know each other better and talked excitedly about climbing. We exchanged addresses and promised to stay in touch. They dropped me off and continued south.

I then spent the rest of the day walking north along the Skagit River Trail, passing through beautiful forests along the river. There were groves of rhododendrons growing wild along the way to brighten the day. Ten miles later, I emerged at the Hope-Princeton Highway, where I spent a while hitching another ride the 26 miles back to my vehicle. My first day in the Skagit had been a good one.

Five short days later, Brian and I made good on our promise to climb together. My friend Jonathan had come up from Olympia, Washington for a visit. Brian came out to my home in Mission, and the 3 of us headed out to climb Mt. Lindeman. Although it wasn’t in the Skagit Valley, it was a mere 8 miles away to the west, so kind of close. It was a great day on a fine peak.

About 6 months passed, and Brian and I had done a lot of climbing together. The tenth of November found us once again in the Skagit Valley. Although technically it wasn’t yet winter, it sure looked and felt like it. I was driving the Volvo station wagon I’d bought from Jonathan, and it was late in the day by the time we’d driven the road into the Skagit Valley (technically called the Silver-Skagit Road). A side spur took us up Shawatum Creek on old logging roads, where we spent the night in the car. At first light on the 11th, we set out on foot. Using the last south spur of the road, we crossed a creek at 3,700 feet. Our goal today was Shawatum Mountain, and its summit was still thousands of feet above us. We put on showshoes and continued, making for the prominent gully which dropped north from between the double summit. Up we went to a saddle at 6,500 feet between the two. From that point, both summits were readily accessible. If you click on the link above, it will take you to Google Maps. You’ll see the mountain on the map. You can click the box on the lower left that says “earth” and you can see the satellite view. If you click on the stack of 3 bars in the upper left, you can choose “terrain” and see topographic contours.

The first one we went after was the east peak. A steep, icy Class 4 gully led right up the south side – we ascended it but were turned back 20 feet below the summit by a short vertical pitch of ice because we had left our crampons at the saddle. We descended one pitch back down the gully. Brian elected to wait for me there while I traversed out of the gully and on to the prominent nose to the left. This provided easier access to the summit at a lower angle than the gully, and there I was at 7,080 feet. A hurried descent, a return to the saddle, and we ascended the easy west peak at 7,070 feet. We made it all the way back down to the car just as night fell, for a round-trip time of 12 hours. Due to the winter conditions, this went down in the climbing guidebooks as the first winter ascent.

Remember Mt. Hozameen? Brian and I both wanted a crack at it, and we had been brainstorming the best way to get at it in winter. Here’s what we came up with – why not climb straight up the border swath to just north of the summit? So, on December 6th, just 4 weeks after Shawatum Mtn, we drove all the way back down the Silver-Skagit Road to the US-Canada border. There was snow on the road, but not too bad. We spent another night in the Volvo exactly on the border. That may sound strange, but it was possible because there was no checkpoint there – the road crossed into the US and ended a short distance later at a boat-launching ramp at the north end of Ross Lake. The days are short in December in those parts, and we planned on an early start, wanting to do Hozameen as a day climb, so that was why we turned in so early. No hot meal, just a cold bite of something – Canuck hardmen didn’t need no stinking hot meal!!

By 3:45 AM we were up and moving. For those of you who’ve never heard of the border swath, it is, at least in that part of BC, a strip of land, maybe 50 to 100 feet wide, which straddles the surveyed border line, half in the US and half in Canada. A long time ago. when they surveyed the border, they made a clear-cut so it would be easily seen. Monuments were placed at intervals along the swath marking the exact location of the border. Where we were climbing, it was somewhat overgrown with small trees and brush but still clearly a swath. There was snow on the ground, and it was snowing at the time. After 4 hours of climbing, mostly in the dark, we had only gained 1,700 vertical feet, leaving us still a whopping 4,700 vertical feet below the summit. It was time to cut our losses and get the hell out of there. By the time we got back down to the car, it was still snowing.

As we drove the 40 miles back north to the highway, the snow was surprisingly deep in places. Since the car didn’t have much clearance, we were forced to drive in the frozen ruts, and it got a bit hairy at times. The snow was frozen hard enough that finally it ripped the muffler right off the car – we stopped, threw it in the back and carried on. It was a hell of a relief to finally reach the highway hours later – we were glad we made it out. I still remember listening to my “Fly Like An Eagle” and “Dark Side of the Moon” cassettes on that white-knuckle drive out.

Others weren’t as lucky. On January 9, 1971 Everett Davidson set out from a Vancouver suburb for a fishing trip at Ross Lake at the southern end of the BC portion of the Skagit Valley. With him were his wife Alice, his son Donald (age 5), his daughter Sherry (age 3) and his brother-in-law Kenneth, age 16. As they were nearing the lake, their truck skidded into a ditch. The men worked for two hours to free it, to no avail. The father then set out on foot to the north to seek help, but eight hours later, his feet frozen, he turned back. Some 20 hours after he had left his family in the truck, he met up with them again. They had also set out on foot, and had covered about 5 miles in the direction the father had traveled when they found each other again. The husband, wife and kids then headed back towards the truck, but Kenneth started north pushing a small motorcycle in the hope of finding a road clear enough to ride. As the family trudged along, the children grew too tired to walk. Once that happened, the parents had to carry them until they too were exhausted. The family took shelter under the overhanging boughs of evergreen trees for the night. They tried to start a fire with a propane torch but the wood was too wet to burn. They were able to melt snow for water to drink, but had no food. Each of the parents took a child and spent the night in a pair of sleeping bags. The husband was unclear on what happened after they woke up the next morning (Tuesday). He did remember trying, unsuccessfully, to light fires, huddling together for warmth, and finally setting out towards the truck once again. He could not remember the trek back to his vehicle, or leaving his wife and children lying under a tree. He only remembered being rescued by a snowplow. Sadly, the end result of this nightmare was that the son and the brother-in-law died.

I guess we couldn’t get Hozameen out of our minds, because 10 days later we were back. Our floundering on the border swath kind of stuck in our craw, and we were determined to do better this time. There was a trail that left the Silver-Skagit Road a few miles north of the swath, starting at 1,700 feet elevation, and a pretty darn good one it was – too good, in fact. It had such a gentle gradient, with so many switchbacks, that it seemed to take forever to gain any elevation. Seven hours on snowshoes put us at an elevation of 4,800 feet in deep powder snow. We camped for the night in Brian’s tent. The night was clear and cool, with a low of 10 degrees F.

The morning dawned clear, another perfect day. Once we started moving again, we realized that conditions were far from ideal – steep slopes, deep in soft, dry powder. At the rate we were traveling, it soon became obvious that it would take a long time to head south far enough in the open alpine country to even reach Hozameen, let alone try to climb it in these conditions. Well, was there a second choice, something nearby? As a matter of fact, Nepopekum Mountain stood only a few miles north, so away we went up the gentle south ridge. (You can follow the same instructions as for Shawatum above). It was a long slog through deep snow, but one very picturesque slog. The entire Skagit Valley never looked nicer – clear blue sky, sparkling snow – Hozameen, Redoubt, Silvertip all frosted totally white. We fought brisk winds much of the way, but finally reached the summit at 6,359 feet. For sure it was going to be another long day, so we stayed only a short while, then headed back the same way. Much later, we reached the tent and spent another cold night. The following morning, it was back down the trail to the car and then home. There were other climbs in future years in the Skagit River Valley, but these 3 in 1977 still stand out in my mind as good winter fun.

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