Linda’s Scrambles & Rambles

Quick rambles:

· The Castle area has a strange mix of gas industry (front ranges) and wilderness.

· Carrying a towel in your car is a good idea. I would have liked to  realize that before this trip.

 

 

 

Loaf Mountain I ~ May 7, 2005

 

CASTLE CROWN AREA, ALBERTA

 

Summit: 2,639m (8,656’)       Elevation gain: 1116m       Total trip elevation: 733m         Total distance:  19km         Total time:  6:30

In an unexpected turn of events, as mountain plans sometimes go, Andrew Nugara and I had the good fortune to join Bob Spirko and Dinah Kruze on their quest to summit Loaf Mountain. Dying to get back to the Castle area, I was overjoyed to be joining these two enthusiasts in an exploration of the unknown region. While it sounds like a lazy day on an easy mountain, Loaf Mountain is actually one of the highest peaks in the Castle Crown area. There was nothing lazy or easy about the weather on this day either, however it was eerily similar to the forecast...shudder. If it were not for the outstanding company, this trip might have been a disappointment.

 

Pulling up at the Spionkop Creek road, we were greeted by a locked gate. Unfortunately, this gate was about 4km from where we had expected to start the approach. No problem, though, for the road was well maintained, and quite level, perfect for bikes if you had them. We didn’t.

 

The morning was already shrouded with low level cloud and endless misting. We could not even see the peaks that bordered the creek, let alone further down the valley. We moved down the road at a good pace, and eventually reached the ‘official’ trailhead. The weather also adjusted at this point, and the mist became more drizzle like.

 

Once past the gas plants and industry in the fore valley, the areas we could see were beautiful. Interesting twisted trees, spring wildflowers, spectacular stepped waterfalls, and the infrequent glimpse of colourful vertical cliffs on either side gave us some sense of what this valley must look like on a nice day. Somewhere above those cliffs loomed the towering peaks of the ridge, but we were not granted the pleasure of seeing their faces.

 

We reached an alpine meadow sheltered in a bowl. I loved this meadow; the landscape had a remote and wild feeling to it. It was bordered by imposing cliffs containing an alcove, in which long waterfalls cascaded through. We realized here, that continuing to the end of the valley would be very difficult due to snow conditions. A small weakness in the cliffs beside the alcove, plus the veiled faces of the mountains in front of us, formed a sense of deepening mystery that proved hard to resist. We decided to pursue the unknown route upwards, even though conditions had worsened slightly.

 

We quickly gained a wide gully above the waterfalls. From there we climbed up short steep slope to the next cliffband, which we passed through easily. The thick mist only allowed visibility of about 50 feet, so it was hard to tell what would be encountered next at every step of the journey. Looking back, the gully quickly disappeared into the cloud. We were never really sure if we were heading towards the summit or a dead end, but we did not seem concerned. It was fun just to explore.

 

Soon we began a kick step ascent of very steep snowslope. The snow was extremely wet, from the now heavy showers, and was relatively easy to ascend, especially in the steps made by Andrew. As we climbed higher, the slope became steeper and we had to pass through icy rock patches. The white of the fog was pervasive. Upwards, it hid our path and presented both problem and motivation. Beneath us, it created an unnerving sense of a void, that if you slipped you would just disappear into the white.

 

Near the top of our trip, we faced the looming roadblock of another cliff. Andrew scrambled along its base, and disappeared into the mist. At this point conditions were also worsening, and we were all pretty soaked through. After Andrew returned, we decided to retreat.

 

We descended into the white void, but it was an easy descent. Soon, we found ourselves back on the trail, facing into a heavy wind and a constant cold drizzle. There was a continuous flow of water over my face, despite wearing a wide brimmed hat. Hungry and tired, no one wanted to stop and stand still in this misery. Thankfully, the long kilometers did pass quickly, and we rewarded ourselves with a hot meal at the A&W (soon to be closed :(  ).

 

It may sound like an experience that I wouldn’t want to repeat, but in truth I had a great day. Bob, Dinah, and Andrew’s presence on this trip made it happen for me. Their appreciation for this unique area, their sense of exploration and adventure, and, mostly, their cheerful company made the day a happy one.

 

Bob and Dinah prepare to cross the first stream.

A rare glimpse of the ridges that run on either side of Spionkop Creek.

Little did we know, there was an overgrown 4x4 trail just up on the hill to the right. We followed that back.

This is the bowl where we stopped traveling the valley, and headed up the mountain itself. I really liked this area. But it had some weirdness to it as well. The GPS units were acting up, and we could not get an accurate reading on the summit or north.

Bob looks pretty happy to be in the Castle area again, despite the poor weather. I think we all were.

This colourful gully was reduced to grey-scale by the fog and drizzle.

If I point my camera down, my lens doesn’t get wet. Handy.

Working our way up cliff bands, snow slopes, and candy coloured scree.

Andrew prepares to kick steps up the steep slope in front of him.

Disappearing into the fog, Andrew reaches the highest point we would travel to. Drew, come back! Andrew?!

Dinah heads up a break in the second cliffband.