Hollyburn Mountain -- Ramble #8

Hollyburn Mountain was our final ramble of the summer, and for the second straight week, there were only two of us. We crawled along Hwy.1 until we realized that we qualified for the HOV lane--a quick shoulder check, a yank on the steering wheel, and a little extra push on the accelerator and we were zooming along.

We both agreed, though, that doing this every day was really a symptom of insanity, as even at 10:00 a.m. the congestion was horrendous.

Once we were past North Vancouver, the traffic thinned out, and by the time were were on the Cypress Parkway, the majority of vehicles were the two-wheeled type powered by incredibly fit and muscled human beings. As the Subaru wheeled into the cross-country ski parking lot, we were pleasantly surprised to see only three other vehicles. Not entirely certain of the way to head out, we decided to follow the sign to Hollyburn Lodge. After all, we reasoned, we want to go to Hollyburn Peak, so surely the lodge was on the way. We eventually came across the cross-country ski lodge where we met a young couple coming toward us. They appeared as disoriented as we felt. The trail map showed the mountain somewhere to the north, but the sun and our instincts told us we were heading southeast. Consulting the map together, we concluded that we were indeed heading in the wrong direction; however, there was nothing to indicate where it was that we would find the trailhead to the peak.

Even though we believed ourselves to be lost, we continued on, certain that eventually we would figure out where we should be going. As we discovered, six hours later on the way back, the route we took was actually much prettier and interesting than the gravelly path under the power lines we were meant to take. In fact, we saw much more including an old ranger's log cabin hidden in the forest just off the path, and a historical bridge with photos describing how early loggers had created a series of lakes as they built a flue on which to transport timber downhill to West Vancouver.

We even came to spot where Ruth felt right at home. Not long after the sign at Sigge's Corner, we found a trail that crossed the path we were on, and it was heading north.

Our instincts were right, and it wasn't long after turning left that we finally saw the old warming hut described in the hiking guide. The trail was clearly marked and there was no question now that we were going where we wanted to go. There is something soul-stirring about hiking through sub-alpine forest, and Ruth and I paused often to drink in the beauty that surrounded us--and nibble on a bit of trail mix for much-needed energy.

There were moments of tough slogging as the relatively flat trail started heading upwards. Much of it was muddy, and we had to carefully gauge every step. We even came across snow although it was nearing the end of August. There was perilous scrambling as we neared the top, and we laughed at some of the moves we had to invent in order to accomplish our goal--the butt slide, the backwards sashay, the quick-step shuffle. Finally, as we pulled ourselves up over the final ledge, we stood atop 1325-metre Hollyburn Peak and could see why this has been a favourite destination of hikers for over a hundred years.

Here, we met the young couple we had met three hours earlier--they were obviously more spry than we were, as they had already eaten lunch and were preparing for their descent. I mention them particularly because we had a chance to chat with them, and it was a conversation we're likely to remember for years to come. Ruth had quickly picked up that the young lady was German by the way she had pronounced Sitzmark. The conversation started out very normally. Are you tourists? No. How long have you been here? Where did you come from? Berlin. Are you German? No, I'm from Florida originally, but was working in Berlin. That's where we met. Do you plan to stay here in B.C.? Actually, I'm looking at a job in Switzerland. Oh, Ruth is from Switzerland. What kind of work do you do that would let you work anywhere in the world? I'm a cantor. Oh, a cantor...

How often does one meet a cantor? It was a first for Ruth and for me.

I asked if he was a cantor in an Anglican church, and he said, no, a synagogue. From there the conversation turned to trails and the beauty of B.C. With a deep sigh, the fellow gestured toward the snow-capped mountains and exclaimed, "Doesn't it just shout the Glory of God." He said it with such passion that it has stuck with me ever since. Yes, it does shout the Glory of God. That is precisely why Ramblers ramble!

The rest of the story is much the same as our other stories; only the names have been changed. The two of us chose spots to sit on the rocky summit and marvelled at the panoramic view--the Lions, Grouse, Goat, and Cathedral Mountains. We looked beyond the coastal mountains to the snowy peaks of the Garibaldi Range. As we pulled out our lunches, grey jays flew in and chipmunks scurried up the rocks, all hoping to share in our bounty.

It was a solemn moment when our shutters clicked the final pictures at the top of the peak before our downward trek, as we both knew that this would be the last ramble until next year. For a few hours each week during the summer of 2011, we had managed to escape the cacophony of the city to revel in the solitude of the mountains. Paul Tillich, a theologian, once wrote, "Language has created the word loneliness to express the pain of being alone, and the word solitude to express the glory of being alone." We could see why the psalmist would write, "I lift my eyes up to the mountain where doth my help come from."

There is just one more story I must tell. On the way down, we met another young couple who were just on their way up. Since we were in the middle of a blueberry patch, and bears love blueberries, they asked if we had seen any bears in the area. After assurances from us, they went on their way. Ruth turned to me and smiled. "We don't have anything to worry about. A bear would take one look at us, and decide this tough, old meat wouldn't be worth the effort when there is young, juicy meat just up the trail."

That's all folks!

Ford Mountain*!-- Ramble #7

Looking for the next hike, I flipped to an oft-read page in my hiking guide book. Several years earlier, I had placed an asterisk and exclamation point beside the title, Ford Mountain, but the sentence, "only a 4WD vehicle can make it up the bump and grind road" had always been a roadblock--but perhaps not this year. I sat up and turned to Don, "Honey, is AWD the same as 4WD, and do you think my Forester really can go off road?"

Excitedly I showed him the description of the hike and the FSR (Forestry Service Road). He laughed, "Subarus have won more off-road competitions than any other vehicle." That was all it took. Ruth was the only rambler who was available for a Thursday ramble, so I dashed an e-mail off to her. I was sure she would be game.

In fact, Ruth was more than eager to take on this challenge. As we drove over the bridge just past Vedder Crossing, we zeroed the odometer and drove east another 28 km before slowing down to watch carefully for the brown Ford Mountain Forest Service Road sign that was to be on our left. It was almost hidden by leafy branches, but when we caught sight of it, I turned a sharp left leaving Chilliwack Road behind to begin my first bit of real off-road driving. It didn't take long for me to realize that it wasn't just the car that had to be up to the road, but the driver had to have nerves of steel and an understanding of the best way to make it over large rocks, around potholes, through waterbars, and up steep grades--all on a road only a little wider than the car itself.

As we rounded one particularly sharp curve, we glanced at the road ahead just in time to see a huge bear ambling along. We had both seen Ursus americanus in black, brown, and cinnamon, but this was the first time either of us had seen such a blond one. His hearing must have been keen and his reflexes sharp, as he bolted straight up the rock face and disappeared into the forest before we had a chance to determine conclusively what species he was. The fur appeared grizzled as he disappeared into the forest, but it was likely just the reflection of the sun on his blond locks and my fertile imagination, as guide books were in agreement that grizzlies are rarely found south of Whistler. Still, it added to our excitement--and our trepidation.

The turn at kilometer 3.5 was a hairpin, and the road rose at a 60-degree incline. My Forester was doing well, but I wasn't prepared to burn out my transmission attempting that! This was as far as I would drive. Ruth hopped out to spot (there was a drop-off on my right), as I maneuvered a 360-degree turn to sidle up to the hillside and park. We grabbed our packs, locked the car and continued along our way. Looking at the rough road, we realized that we had made the right decision to leave the car where we did.

About a kilometre later, we came to the official trailhead. With creaky knees, the uphill climb is always easier than the downhill. Still, at an average 25.4% grade, this was steeper than any of the rambles we had done so far this year, and the blood was quickly pounding in our ears. Our guidebook had warned of the importance of staying focussed, as there was a history of hikers getting disorientated on this mountain. As usual, we let Ruth take the lead with her uncanny ability to ferret out the small orange squares that marked the trail. After more than an hour of straight-up plodding, the trail leveled out somewhat and it was easier to carry on a conversation.

We stopped several times on our way to the summit--not to catch our breath from the exertion but from the breath-taking beauty of our surroundings. It was a forest like none other. There was very little underbrush; instead, the forest floor was a carpet of emerald moss beckoning tired hikers to rest their weary bones on its softness. We didn't succumb to the temptation, and trudged upwards. A little over an hour later, we broke out of the forest onto the summit where cement blocks were all that were left of what was once a forest service lookout. The view from here was spectacular and we quickly began to identify the different peaks--Slesse, Foley, Welch, Williams, and The Still. Since neither Ruth nor I were acquainted with making moonshine, we weren't quite sure which of the peaks was "The Still," but we did our best at guessing.

Not satisfied to have simply reached the top of Ford, we decided to meander along the ridge trail that eventually made its way to Williams Peak. Occasionally we would hear a booming noise that sounded like a cannon. Our first impulse was to look skyward, but we were puzzled, as the noise subsided much more quickly than what one would expect if a jet were passing over. As we sat on an outcrop of rock, snacking on trail mix and scouring the view with binoculars, we realized the booming noises were avalanches on the ice fields and pocket glaciers across the valley. Puzzle solved. From here, we had an unobstructed view of Mt. Slesse where in 1956 the 62 crew and passengers of TransCanada Airlines flight 810 perished. They had missed clearing Slesse's famed buttress by a mere ten metres.

Glancing at our watches, we knew it would be foolish to continue our exploring, so we turned around to return to the top of Ford and have a late lunch. We sat for the longest time, both of us basking in the silence, the mountains and valleys declaring the glory of God. We were loath to leave this spot; however, we knew we had to be down before dark as the trail would not have been negotiable once the sun set. As we began to gather our things, Ruth commented on how few birds we had seen. I was looking around and nodding in agreement, when I caught sight of a small flock on top of a tall coniferous. Perplexed that they didn't move, I grabbed my binoculars in an effort to see them more clearly. They weren't birds at all, but huge, blue cones which seemed to be sprinkled with sparkles and diamonds.

We scrambled down to the base of the tree to see if we could find any scattered around on the ground, but there was nothing. Ruth soon found a smaller tree with the same intriguing cones. She eyed the top, then jumped up to grab hold as high as possible bending the limber trunk toward herself, but the cones were still out of reach. I adjusted my walking staff to its fullest length and while Ruth held the tree, I whacked away at the cones. Their hold was tenacious, though, and we finally had to admit that the tree had won. We eventually learned that it was a sub-alpine fir that had beaten us.

Our fight to get a closer look at the cones had taken up more daylight, and we needed to get our feet moving. With our knapsacks on our backs, we turned our faces towards home. The first part of the downward trek was back through the enchanted forest, but this time the air was infused with an indescribable sweetness, presumably awakened by the warmth of the sun. We paused to look around, trying to figure out the origin of the fragrant perfume. Could this be the "sweet-scented hemlock grove" mentioned in the guidebook, I wondered. We looked down, and the ground was littered with tiny cones--that was our first clue. We looked up, and sure enough the trees that surrounded us, although tall and mighty, hung their heads in shame--the tell-tale characteristic of the Mountain Hemlock (see link under "Other Sites of Interest").

The shadows were long as we moved with measured steps toward the base of the mountain. As we pushed ourselves along the final stretch to where we had left the car, we had the uneasy feeling that we were not alone. If we weren't alone, we never knew for certain, as we climbed into my Subaru without having caught another sign of the big bruin who had greeted us earlier on our journey. We hadn't seen a single soul in the six hours we spent on the mountain. We were quickly learning that every ramble has its own uniqueness, and each provides a day of treasured memories.

Lindeman Lake -- Ramble #6

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then the link to the right will take you to a 45,000 word essay; however, here is a quick synopsis of Ramble #6. Knowing that the drive to the trailhead was farther than to our first five hikes, we started out earlier than usual. This time, we had to take two cars, as Lynn and Lana joined the regular foursome of Ruth, Richard, Ingrid and me (Linda). As we wound along Chilliwack Lake Road, those of us in the lead car had no idea that the car following us was ill-prepared for the distance and its occupants were beginning to panic. Finally, we pulled over to park, and Lana's Nissan drifted in behind us on the last few fumes in the gas tank. Relieved that she had finally caught our attention, Lana quickly explained that she had to go back for gas. When she and Lynn realized we had pulled over because we were "there" and not because we had seen her flashing headlights or heard her honking horn, they gave a sigh of relief and happily grabbed their day packs.

The first part of the trail was the usual heart-pumping ascent, but with the gurgling sound of Post Creek in the distance, it didn't seem so daunting. It's strange how relaxing yet energizing the sound of running water can be! We zig-zagged our way upwards until we eventually came to a spot on the trail where we had to cross the creek. With the record snowfall this year, this part of the creek was a rushing torrent of blue-green water, tumbling in wild cataracts as it made its way down the mountain. Before us, lay a huge tree trunk bridging the trail on either side of the tumultuous water. We looked at each other wondering what was keeping the tree in place. There were guide wires on either side of the log, but certainly nothing that would support a hiker should there be a misstep or moment of unbalance. Taking a deep breath, one by one we stepped cautiously onto the "bridge" and managed to plant one foot in front of the other until we were safely on the other side.

Shortly after making the precarious crossing, the trail began to level out somewhat. After another fifteen minutes or so, we emerged from the forest and caught our first glimpse of Lindeman Lake. One couldn't help but gasp at the beauty in front of us. My first thought was that I had somehow been transported back to the Rockies and the jeweled lakes I had known as a child. Here we met a few other hikers, and chuckled when we noticed some of the kids were scrambling lithely along the trail in only flip-flops. Oh, to be young and limber again!

I remembered this spot well from several years back when I had taken my grade sixes to Chilliwack Lake for the year-end camping trip. That time, I hadn't an ounce of energy left to even attempt climbing onto the boulder field which was where the trail continued. It was here that half the class continued on, guided by two dads who had willingly accompanied us, only too glad for an excuse to get out of the city; the rest of the class, less fit and adventurous, stayed with another parent helper and me. Brendan Bozlovitch had carted his fishing gear up, and while some splashed around in the icy water and others hiked, he was in his element trying to catch supper for us.

This time, however, I was determined that a few monster rocks wouldn't stop me from continuing on towards the north end of the lake and maybe even on to Greendrop Lake. We scrambled up the first few boulders, scanned the mountainside until we saw some orange trail markers, then continued along our way. Less than ten minutes later, we decided to each find the perfect rock and sit down to eat our lunch surrounded by breathtaking beauty. The rugged peaks on the far side of the lake towered high, and Richard and Ruth bantered back and forth about the possibility of scrambling up the scree slopes. Richard lost the argument and conceded that it would probably be wise to stick to the trail we were on.

After the last bite was digested, Lana and Lynn said good-bye, as they had other commitments back at home. The four of us continued on through the boulder field. We knew that it was a mere kilometre or so to the other end, but we were not quite ready for what lay ahead! As far as one could see forward, and upward, and downward, were giant boulders that had once upon a time tumbled in a massive slide from the slopes above. There was no clear route -- just 1,001 ways to traverse the area along the west side of the lake. Jumping from boulder to boulder, it was over an hour later when we finally came to a short boardwalk that led to the north shore "beach." Try to imagine what went through our minds when Richard, who was first at the beach, turned to us laughing. The "beach" had room for perhaps a single soul -- a single soul standing up, not even room to throw down a towel and stretch out for a little sunning. It seems that the "beach" had gone the way of Atlantis, tufts of grass stretching above the surface giving the only indication that the beach did exist and was not someone's imagination. The heavy snow pack had fed the mountain streams that made their way down to Lindeman, and the water level of the lake was much higher than usual.

We continued along a muddy path until we were sure there wasn't another beach somewhere. Ingrid and I finally decided to stay put while Richard and Ruth explored just a little further along. They REALLY wanted to continue on to Greendrop Lake -- until they met a couple of hikers who were just returning from that journey. After hearing them describe boulder field after boulder field to cross and overwhelming disappointment upon reaching the final destination, it was an easy decision to be satisfied with what we had already done and begin the return journey.

The final descent was uneventful, and as we trod the final last stretch leaving behind the castellated peaks and turquoise water, we all agree that this had been well worth the long drive from the city. Oh, and Lana and Lynn made it back safely, thanks to Lana's car being a hybrid.

Anouncing Ramble #6 -- Thursday, August 11

Ramble #6 is planned for next Thursday, August 11. We are going to go to Lindeman Lake which is close to Chilliwack Provincial Park. There may be the option of extending this hike to include Greendrop Lake, but that will depend upon how many people are coming and the level of hiking ability. The least we will do is the Lindeman Lake hike. If there are ramblers who want to continue on to Greendrop Lake (there needs to be at least two or three people), the others (minimum 2 people) can wait at Lindeman Lake for the Greendrop Lake hikers to return, or they can return downhill and do the nature walk that loops around (and crosses over) the Chilliwack River and everyone meet at the car(s). The trailhead for the nature walk is across the road from the Lindeman Lake/Greendrop Lake trailhead.

Check out the trail details using the link to the right.

Please get back to me by Tuesday, August 9 at the latest so that we can organize rides. In order to plan the day, it is important that we know who wants to come and their preferences for a hike (i.e. just Lindeman, or Lindeman/Greendrop).

Happy rambling!

Sandero Diez Vistas

Did you know that the word "sandero" translates to "path"? Of course, "diez vistas" means "ten views," so Sandero Diez Vistas means "path with ten views." Our latest ramble was to follow the Sandero Diez Vistas trail as it zig-zagged up to Buntzen Ridge, where we were treated to spectacular views of Indian Arm and the Fannin Range. It was a little tricky finding the first view, and for a while we were afraid we had made a wrong turn as we started a descent without seeing views #2-10. However, our intrepid trail-finder, Ruth, had taken us exactly where we needed to go to end up back on the ridge. As we stepped out onto a large outcropping of rock, we looked at each other and smiled--here was the view we had been anticipating! We each found a spot to settle into and pulled out our lunches. From here we could see downtown Vancouver, English Bay, Burrard Inlet, Indian Arm, Balcarra, Jug Island and Deep Cove. Ruth pointed out the three peaks of Seymour (which she had hiked with Diana a few years ago), Richard pointed out Quarry Rock, and Ingrid pointed out a snake sunning itself only an arm's length from where she was sitting.

The downhill slog was perhaps more of a challenge than the heart-pumping ascent--especially for anyone with creaky joints (Linda), and it seemed that we were going down forever. At every turn of the trail, we were grateful for the trailblazers who had marked the trail with small, neon-orange squares nailed strategically on trees to guide us. The dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy made the world seem a little more 3-dimensional. Eventually we noticed the salal had given way to hardhack, foxglove, and bunch-berry (dwarf dogwood), and we knew we were close to our journey's end. We made our way across a short suspension bridge to the North Beach of Buntzen Lake, then took a quick outhouse break and moved on south.

We were exhausted but jubilant when we finally returned to the car. It had been more than seven hours since we had first consulted the trail map to begin our ramble. Check out our pictures by clicking on the link to the right.

Ramble #5, Thursday, August 4

Our next ramble is set for Thursday, August 4. It is a longer hike, so we need to get an earlier start. Please call or e-mail me to let me know if you are able to join us. If you want to read about the trail, there is a link to the right.

Also, this is a more challenging hike, but we have been told we could double-back after we see the views and meet up with the Buntzen Lake trail to finish off. Those of us going on the hike will make this decision on Thursday, but hikers should be prepared for a strenuous day.

Hope you can come!

Jug Island Beach and Admiralty Point

The Regent Ramblers -- well, three of us -- had a FABULOUS hike today. The weather was perfect, the trails were challenging yet do-able, and the company was merry. We wove our way along Bedwell Bay Road to the Belcarra picnic area, then quickly located the trail head for Jug Island Beach. We didn't pass a single other person along the trail, and an hour later we emerged from the forest onto a secluded beach a stone's throw away from Jug Island. Just as Linda was going to slip behind a tree to change into her swimsuit to swim across to the island, two men in a motorized dinghy scooted up to the shore to ask us to leave. They were shooting an episode of the television series, Psyche ("a James Bond kind of show" one man said), and didn't want the three of us in the picture. We were disappointed, to say the least, but without whining turned around to trek back and find a spot for lunch somewhere on the trail.

After an arduous climb of about 200 meters, we were approached by two men who came puffing up a small side trail. We asked if the path they were on led to a beach, and they replied that it did, but it was a private beach. "Bob," and his buddy, the mayor of Belcarra, directed us back to Jug Island Beach, but when we told Bob that we had been asked to leave, he invited us follow the trail to his private beach. We snaked our way through the forest to an older cabin in the most idyllic spot you could imagine. Bob's wife, Sharon, greeted us enthusiastically, showed us around the place, then led us out to a spiral staircase leading down to the beach. If anyone is interested in a secluded get-away, Bob and Sharon have just opened up two rustic cabins on their property for people to rent. Their web site, when it's up and running, will be www.cozycove.ca.

We settled onto the foundation of what appeared to be an old dock, and dug into our picnic lunch. After satisfying rumbling tummies and thanking Sharon for her gracious hospitality, the Ramblers continued on down the trail back towards the picnic area. Exhilarated from the hike (that took just over two hours), we looked at each other and said, "Let's do Admiralty Point." This is a 6 km trail along the coastline. We had fun identifying the various wild flowers and were fascinated by the numerous different mushrooms/toadstools/fungi we saw along the way. The trail ended at an outcropping of rock that overlooked Deep Cove and Indian Arm.

By the time we got back to the car, we were weary but content. We plopped ourselves into the car, and as we drove excitedly discussed various options for our next ramble. Watch the blog to find out what the intrepid Ramblers are going to do next week.

Hike #4 Jug Island Beach, Tuesday, July 26

Hike #4 is a go for Tuesday, July 26-- Jug Island Beach Trail! If anyone wants to join us ("us" being Lana, Ingrid, Linda), we should be at the Belcarra Picnic Area parking lot around 10:00 a.m. Give me a call or send an e-mail if you want to join us, then we will know to look for you.

There is a link to a park map, and a link to the trail description to the right. You will find driving instructions below the picture. Be sure to pack a lunch and a snack to eat on the beach. Water is important, too, as I do not think there is any along the trail.

Driving Instructions
The trail to Jug Island Beach is located in Belcarra Regional Park in the quiet town of Belcarra. To get to Belcarra Regional Park from Surrey, get onto Hwy. 1 West, then take Exit 44 and merge onto Lougheed (#7 East). Turn left onto Barnett Hwy, then right onto IOCO Road. Turn left to stay on IOCO Rd. It seems strange being on Ioco and then turning left onto the same street name. At this light, going straight up the hill turns into a different street name, therefore you want to turn left and continue on Ioco Road.

Follow the road as it weaves along the shore passing many houses on both sides of the road. Turn right onto 1st Avenue and a short distance later when the road forks, go left onto Bedwell Bay Road. After passing Sasamat Lake on your right, you reach a stop sign. Turn left at the stop sign and follow the winding road up hill, passing the yellow metal gate. Continue following this route until you finally descend into Bedwell Bay and arrive at the parking lot of Belcarra Regional Park.

Note: If you miss turning left at the stop sign near Sasamat Lake, you will end up driving into the town of Belcarra. You will end up at Belcarra Regional Park, however, due to the limited space, there is no public parking available. You must drive all the way back to Sasamat Lake and turn right, following the route up and over the hill towards the Belcarra Regional Park parking lot.

Let's Hear From You

I feel like I'm planning these things a bit in the dark. I need to know what people are most interested in. Until I get a better idea of what the majority of people want, I've gone ahead and planned to hike "Jug Island Beach Trail" for Tuesday, July 26. As of now, Lana and I are confirmed, and Lynn is a "maybe." (See link to the right."

I'll post the meeting time and other information on Monday. That will give me time to see if there is any other input.

Cheers!

Just the Two of Us

It was just two of us along with two four-pawed friends, but we had a wonderful hike today through Tynehead Park.

If anyone has a suggestion for next week, please e-mail me a.s.a.p. so that we can get the word out earlier rather than later.

P.S. Sorry the e-mail was confusing and didn't mention that the hike was Tuesday. I sure hope people checked the blog for the date and weren't disappointed.

Ramble #3, Tuesday, July 19

Whew! Time is flying by...sorry this is short notice. I just put my mom on the bus this morning, and have not had a chance until today to connect with anyone to plan the third ramble. Ingrid suggested we keep it simple and do Tynehead Park again... perhaps the perimeter road this time.

Here are the meeting instructions for Tuesday, July 19

Meet at the Serpentine Fields entrance on 168 Street, there is lots of parking, away from the construction on 96Ave and we can make our choices from there. If we could meet around 9:30 am that should give everyone time in the morning and it won't be too hot yet!

For those who did not go on last week's ramble, there is information about the park to the right of this blog.

Hope to see you there.

Ramble #2, Friday, July 15

Ramble for This Week

Thanks to Ingrid, we have our second ramble planned. Since we were starting out with easier hikes, and since a couple of people who are tied down with little ramblers have expressed a desire to come, we have chosen a hike that is suitable to all. Our destination this week is Tynehead Park. We picked Friday this time because several of those interested in rambling are only available on a Friday -- so this hike is for ALL:)


Park information and a trail map can be found by clicking on the links to the right.

When: Friday, July 15
Where: Tynehead Park
Level of Hike: Easy
Meeting Place Serpentine Fields entrance on 168 Street
Meeting Time: 9:30 a.m.

If you need more information, please call Ingrid. It would also be helpful if you could let her know you are coming so that the group knows to wait for you if you are not at the parking lot. There is an e-mail link to Ingrid to the right of this blog, and you would have her phone number on our emergency call-out list.

Happy rambling!

Roving Ramblers Hit the Trail

Too bad for those who missed our first ramble! We had picture-perfect weather, and the trail we hit meandered serenely through typical west-coast woodland, shading ramblers from the blazing sun. Who doesn't love the sound of a bubbling creek? Who doesn't love a gentle breeze lightly kissing one's face? And who doesn't love to drink in the earthy fragrance of the forest flora? It is all soothing to the soul.

I relished the chance to get away from the cacophony of the city and soak up the beauty of the natural world, but even more importantly I cherished the time to get to know my colleagues in a different setting, away from the routine and walls of the school!

Ingrid and Richard are planning our next ramble, as I will be out of town. As soon as I get the details, I shall post everything on our blog (and e-mail those who asked to be on the Regent Ramblers notification list).

Watch for an update by the end of this coming weekend.

P.S. The new picture at the top of the blog is from our first ramble along Kanaka Creek Cliff Falls trail.

Wednesday, July 6 Ramble

Kanaka Creek Cliff Falls

This is an easy one! The guide says it is only 4 km., yet they have it down as taking 2 hours (we could always do it twice, or explore side trails). That would suggest this will be a relaxing ramble. We'll plan more strenuous ones later in the summer.

Meeting Place
Let's meet at the school at 10:00 a.m., Wednesday, July 6. I can take 3-4 people in my car (not a lot of leg room in a Forester, but it works for short distances). If there are more people, then we'll need a second vehicle. If anyone on the North Shore or north of the school wants to meet us there, please give me a call so that we know to wait up for you if you're not there yet when we get there.

Pack a Lunch
Don't forget to carry water, and bring a lunch in your day pack.

Check Out the Links
Check out the links to the right to get a sneak preview of the hike. There is also a map outlining the trail. The second link is a short video for anyone who might be interested in the sport of kayaking.

Driving Directions
Here are the driving directions from Vancouver. I'm guessing that if we leave Surrey shortly after 10:00, we should be in the parking lot between 10:45 and 11:00. If anyone is meeting us there, it would make sense to say "be there by 11:00."

To reach the Cliff Falls area of Kanaka Creek from Vancouver, drive towards the highway and head eastbound on Highway #1, the Trans Canada Highway. Take exit #44 and merge onto the Mary Hill Bypass. Follow the Mary Hill Bypass to Lougheed Hwy and head eastbound towards Pitt Meadows and Maple Ridge. Continue driving along Lougheed Hwy for about 6km until you reach a set of lights with Dewdney Trunk Rd. Turn left onto Dewdney Trunk Rd. and go straight for about 10km to 252 Street. Turn right onto 252 Street and follow the road as it turns into 117 Avenue and then 251 Street. At the end of 251 Street there is a sports field with a gravel parking lot next to it, which also serves as access to Cliff Falls.

Are You Ready to Ramble?

The Idea
Lana, Leanne, and Linda would like to invite all RCA staff members to join the Regent Ramblers. Watch this blog for updates throughout the summer and join us if you can! Regent Ramblers do not need to come alone--they are welcome to drag along a spouse or friend (or in some cases, a dog).

The Plan
We are aiming at a hike a week over the summer months. We will post the hike and date on the blog, and give a time to meet at the school to figure out rides once there. We'll also include the name of the coordinator for that particular hike. If you do not want to meet at the school but still want to join the group, just call the hike coordinator and let her know. You can meet up with us at the trail head or somewhere en route.

The Hikes
The coordinator for each hike will pass along all the information to Linda who will update the blog. We will give you all the particulars of the hike that we can -- the location, the degree of difficulty (easy, moderate, difficult), whether it is dog-friendly, the distance, the elevation change, etc.

If you have a hike you have always wanted to do, get hold of a hike coordinator and she will see about fitting it in. If the groups gets unmanageably large, we can always divide up into two groups... doing hikes of differing degrees of difficulty.

What If It Rains?
If the weather is such that the hike is sure to miserable or dangerous, we will update the blog early in the morning. Be sure to check the blog before you head out to meet us in case we need to reschedule (or cancel if we have a stretch of bad weather).

Let's Get Started
We will let you know by July 1 when and where our first ramble will be.

The picture above was taken last week when my mom and I walked the short Bridal Falls trail just east of Chilliwack.