Nev Judd: Online and out there

Posts Tagged ‘Sunshine Coast

Cabin fever

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Snowshoers make their way to Mount Steele Cabin, one of four cabins built by the Tetrahdron Outdoor Club in 1987. Reynold Schmidt photo

Snowshoers make their way to Mount Steele Cabin, one of four cabins built by the Tetrahdron Outdoor Club in 1987. Reynold Schmidt photo

 

“We came in by the light of the benevolent and gibbous moon waxing to near fullness. The skies were clear and the spirits were high, peeling laughter for 48 hours and sleeping for six.”

–          An entry in the Bachelor Lake Cabin, Tetrahedron Provincial Park

Some people move to the Sunshine Coast to get away from it all. The Tetrahedron is where Sunshine Coasters go to get away from it all. Six thousand hectares of mountains, lakes, streams, wetlands and forest, the Tet, as it’s fondly known, has long been cherished by backcountry enthusiasts.

In 1987, a group of those enthusiasts banded together to mobilize more than 200 volunteers, 45 businesses, schools, community groups and several levels of government: their mission, to build cabins linked by a trail network.

Back then, they called themselves the Tetrahedron Ski Club. A quarter of a century later, they’re the Tetrahedron Outdoor Club, a group justifiably proud of the legacy created northeast of Sechelt. Last summer, club members marked the 25-year milestone with dances, parties, pancake breakfasts and numerous trips down memory lane.

Tannis is one of 10 beautiful lakes in Tetrahedron Provincial Park.

Tannis is one of 10 beautiful lakes in Tetrahedron Provincial Park. In June, the lake was still partially frozen.

Now they’re enjoying the snow.

“Early December, after that first big dump of snow; that’s my favourite time to go,” says club president, Reynold Schmidt. “I usually go with club members, friends – before the crowds.”

It’s June when Reynold and I visit Bachelor Lake Cabin, a one-hour hike from the trailhead up Grey Creek Forest Service Road. With snow more than a metre deep in places, I’m grateful for snowshoes. Partially frozen Tannis Lake is a testament to the cold, wet spring endured down at sea level, 1,100 metres below. At least the mosquitoes are still asleep.

Tannis is one of 10 beautiful lakes in Tetrahedron Provincial Park. There are three mountain peaks – Panther, Steele and Tetrahedron – and some of the oldest trees in the country. Amabilis fir, mountain and western hemlock, yellow cedar and white pine can all be found here. So, too, can the club’s four rustic, two-storey cabins each built to accommodate 16 people – first-come, first serve. They can be reached via a 25-kilometre trail network and are located at Bachelor Lake, above Edwards Lake, between McNair and Chapman Lakes, and below the summit of Mt. Steele.

A 25-kilometre trail network links the Tetrahedron's cabins. Views are good any time of year. BC Parks photo

A 25-kilometre trail network links the cabins in Tetrahedron Provincial Park. BC Parks photo

Inside Bachelor Cabin, we stop for lunch, seated on a long wooden bench at a metal table. There’s a wood stove and firewood. Above us is a sleeping loft with foam mattresses. From the kitchen window, looking across frozen Bachelor Lake, it’s hard to imagine “crowds”. We haven’t seen a soul all day. But weekend and holidays during the winter can be busy at the cabins, confirms Reynold, a natural resource officer with B.C. Ministry of Forests, Lands and Natural Resource Operations.

“We’ve had our problems with vandalism over the years, people coming just to party and not cleaning up after themselves,” he says. “There has been a lot of debate within the club to create a reservation system, but some members are adamant the cabins remain for everyone’s use.”

This year, the club has appointed stewards, two people per cabin, responsible for maintenance and regular monitoring. “They’re regular backcountry users who get to use the lockboxes to store their gear, so they don’t have to carry stuff in each time,” says Reynold.

“It helps dispel the sense that these are party cabins,” he adds.

Naturally, the cabins are there to be enjoyed. How they came to be there is a different story, far removed from pristine mountain air – below sea level in fact!

A basement in Franklin Road, Gibsons, is where George Smith pitched his idea for a cabin and trail network. In 1985, George had skied Mount Steele with his friend Ian McConnell on June 1 weekend. He was struck by the quality of the snow and the potential of backcountry recreation in the area.

Bachelor Cabin, the closest of the four cabins to the trail head.

Bachelor Cabin, the closest of the four cabins to the trail head.

“The Sunshine Coast was in the midst of an economic depression,” recalls George. “People weren’t exactly light and breezy, but I thought this idea made sense.”

George approached his Franklin Road neighbor, Wayne Greggain, the titular head of the Tetrahedron Ski Club. After a heyday in the late 1960s and 70s, mostly skiing Mount Elphinstone courtesy of a Tucker Snow Cat and 600-foot lift purchased from Hollyburn Mountain, the ski club was all-but defunct by 1985. Wayne agreed to host a meeting of ski enthusiasts in his basement where George explained his vision.

The prevailing mood, recalls George, was: “We don’t know how good an idea this is, but if we don’t do it, someone else might and they won’t do it right.”

The group agreed that if George could secure funding for the project, the ski club would run it as a non-profit. By the fall of 1986, George – then a sometimes reporter with the former Coast News – had secured more than $150,000 in federal funding and another $20,000 from the province.

Yet another Franklin Road resident, Paul Anslow, was contracted to build the cabins at Sechelt airport. The cabins would then be disassembled and flown by helicopter to be reassembled on site. Forestry company, Canfor, and the Sunshine Coast Regional District donated timber, Sechelt Creek Contracting provided logging service, Airspan donated some air time, Gibsons Building Supplies provided crane trucks and the Outdoor Recreation Council pitched in with chainsaws.

A small army of volunteers mobilized to clear trails while 18 people during the course of the project worked on the cabins.

George describes former club president and long-time member, Victor Bonaguro, “a force of nature” who could “build anything”.

“Part of the reason we were able to get funding was because we created an 11-point education plan for the workers, so they would have the tools to go out and find work afterwards,” says George. Aside from cabin-building, workers learned valuable lessons in surveying and industrial and wilderness first aid, thanks to time donated by local experts.

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By the time the cabins opened to the public in 1987, the club had raised more than $300,000 for the project. But perhaps more importantly, one great idea had united governments, businesses, and local volunteers in the midst of a recession, no less.

The Tetrahedron was declared a Class A provincial park in 1995. And in 2004, recognizing the year-round activities of its members, the ski club changed its name to the Tetrahedron Outdoor Club.”

“This resource is at least as good today as when it was first built,” says George, who’s still in love with the Tetrahedron.

“I feel lucky. When you walk in a forest that’s never been logged, it just feels different. It’s wonderful to be there.”

 

Summer comes late to Bachelor Lake, pictured here in June.

Summer comes late to Bachelor Lake, pictured here in June.

Written by nevjudd

January 19, 2013 at 11:06 am

White and wild on Dakota Ridge

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If cross-country skiing is a little slow for you, tobogganing should get your adrenaline racing on Dakota Ridge.

Forty minutes ferry-ride from West Vancouver, the Sunshine Coast is better known for The Beachcombers, scout camps and verdant shorelines. People don’t typically associate this 140-kilometre peninsula with snow. But there it is, several feet of the stuff, just waiting to be played in.

You just have to look up.

There's cross-country skiing for all ages on Dakota Ridge.

Poking through the clouds about 1,200 metres above the beaches and pretty parks is Dakota Ridge, one of the best cross-country ski destinations in the last place you’d expect to find it. Between November and March, if it’s raining at sea level, there’s a good chance it’s snowing up there.

And it’s only a 20-minute drive from sea level.

“You can come up for a couple of hours and be in a completely different world,” says Craig Moore, a cross-country skier and long-time member of the Dakota Ridge Winter Recreation Society, a non-profit group working to promote the area. “For cross-country skiing it beats anywhere on the west coast.”

It’s pretty good for tobogganing and snowshoeing, too.

A 620-hectare (1,532 acres) plateau atop a working watershed, Dakota Ridge offers a rolling landscape of stunted old growth hemlock and yellow cedar. On a clear day you can see the North Shore mountains, the Gulf Islands and Vancouver Island beyond – even Mount Baker down in Washington State.

There are 13 kilometres of groomed trails for cross-country skiers on Dakota Ridge.

Cross-country skiers will find 13 kilometres of groomed Nordic trails, all of them signposted and colour-coded according to degree of difficulty. Professional engineer Reidar Zapf-Gilje, who prepared Callaghan Valley’s 2010 Nordic Olympic course, designed Dakota Ridge’s trail network.

“In many cross-country skiing areas you’re skiing through woods and you don’t see too much,” says Zapf-Gilje.

“Dakota Ridge is way up there in terms of esthetics. Its real strength is its potential for recreation and citizen [cross-country] races.”

Jamie Mani hopes that potential will be realized. Mani owns Alpha Adventures, a Wilson Creek outdoor-adventure store specializing in guided snowshoe and cross-country ski touring on the Ridge.

When it's not snowing, the views from Dakota Ridge can be spectacular.

“One of the great things about this place is its proximity to so many other activities,” says Mani. “Someone can literally be out snowshoeing in the morning up in the mountains and then golfing or kayaking in the afternoon.

“And for Nordic skiing we have excellent potential because of great snowfall and a blend of flat and rolling trails. We have been skiing on the Ridge as late as May in previous years.”

Snowshoers will find their own trails and there’s plenty of room for hiking and tobogganing. You’ll find a parking lot, warming hunt and toilet at the trailhead.

The turnoff for Dakota Ridge is at the top of Field Road in Wilson Creek, about half way between Gibsons and Sechelt, and 20 kilometres drive from BC Ferries’ Langdale terminal. For many years, the unplowed access road to Dakota’s trailhead made it a ridge too far for some. In recent years the 11-kilometre road has been upgraded to allow for regular plowing, but four-wheel drive vehicles equipped with chains are still the way to go.

Or take advantage of Alpha Adventure’s shuttle service.

Desperately seeking ….

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I must have walked past it a hundred times.
On the beach, just by the Camp Byng sign, the small, plastic olive container was concealed at the base of a fir tree, tucked behind a dead cedar.
Inside were all sorts of trinkets – a bead necklace, a small plastic dinosaur, pencil and notebook for messages.
Someone had hidden it there in 2004 – 212 years after Capt. George Vancouver had camped nearby and given Gower Point its name.
Cap’n George would have liked geocaching. A handheld electronic device equipped with a global positioning system could have helped him find the Northwest Passage.
The cache by the Camp Byng sign has been my only success to date. I’ve since been on futile geocaching missions to Whispering Firs park in Gibsons, Cliff Gilker park, and the bridge outside Roberts Creek legion. The latter venue had a black bear waiting for me.
The story I’m supposed to write about geocaching was due yesterday.
I can’t wait to read it.

Written by nevjudd

November 5, 2011 at 6:03 pm

Purpose and Porpoise Bay

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Ryan, where I like him to be: On dry land.

About 10 years ago my son Ryan learned how to ride a bike here at Porpoise Bay. Back ache and heart ache were the prevailing emotions as my four-year-old finally wobbled away from me along the green towards the forest.

Ten years later I’m back here, sitting on the shore of Sechelt Inlet, looking for Ryan. He was last seen paddling an inflatable dinghy with three 14-year-old friends whose idea of “planning” was to bring a paddle: Sunscreen and lifejackets, not so much.

“We’re probably not going to get far,” were Ryan’s last words heading away. That was two hours ago.

Every year, you’ll find us camping here, usually on Canada’s Labour Day weekend. It’s a ritual I like to think of as planned spontaneity – the last chance to fill days with life’s pointless yet most meaningful pursuits: reading, writing, playing, eating and drinking.

There are lots of friends and no deadlines.

Porpoise Bay is a beautiful camping spot with sheltered sites, wooded trails and a sandy beach on the inlet. The sites and trails were carved out of the forest by Ole Johansen. In the 1940s, Ole was a champion ski jumper, competing all over the Pacific Northwest. He was the caretaker at Mount Seymour in North Vancouver, living in the two storey cabin he built himself. Every week the native Norwegian would walk from Mount Seymour Highway back up the mountain after evening classes to improve his English. It took him three hours each time.

I say a quiet thank you to Ole every time I come here, and to Leah, who brought me here the first time. Growing up in London, my experience of camping was a farmer’s field in Dorset and disorganized rows of tents, tarps and windbreakers. The camp site at Charmouth had all the privacy of a refugee camp.

It’s almost 7 p.m. and I’m a little anxious. I only wish my legs could race as fast as my mind.

“Oh, they’ll be back when they’re hungry,” the mum of one of Ryan’s fellow paddlers tells me.

At 7, their boat appears from behind an island in the inlet. Ryan’s friend is wearing pyjama bottoms. The four of them are a mix of bronzed and burnt, all of them bearing the scars of a late afternoon session of cliff jumping.

They disembark and Ryan sees us on the beach.

“What’s for dinner?” he says.

 

Written by nevjudd

September 4, 2011 at 8:56 am