Squamish Scrambler Recap and Results- 2008

As people trickled into the North Shore Athletics in Squamish, the weather tempted us with patches of blue and views of the surrounding snow covered peaks. Could we really get lucky for the third straight year?

Thankfully it rained to an elevation of about 1000m throughout the week, which is right at the parking lot trail head for this snowshoe run, and all 4x4 vehicles were able to make it to the starting point without issue. We had six car pool vehicles and I greatly thank all who offered up their trucks up for transport on the day!

Even as we all collected in the parking area for our starter photo the skies played with us. A small blue patch here, some climbing cloud cover there...maybe, just maybe it would clear completely for us! This dream was quickly put to rest however, for as we ascended the trail the cloud cover grew thicker, the temperature dipped, and the snow started to fly! We had one brief vantage point back over Squamish after about fifteen minutes of snowshoeing, but the rest of the day would be spent in a winter wonderland.

We set out as a group of eighteen snowshoers and slowly started to pair off into smaller groups along the way. I was forced onto my ski touring gear for the day as I've been dealing with a calf injury. The ski boots with a fully ridgid sole, seem to allow me to proceed without issue, although I did spend most of the day wishing I could have been on my snowshoes with everyone else!

After a good paced warm up of about ten minutes John Dove decided he was done with us slow pokes and went about showing all of us what snowshoe 'running' actually looked like! Ward Beamer gave chase and a crew of five formed the second group. I was able to hang onto the back of these guys while on my ski gear.

By the time we had reached Red Heather Hut at 5km, it was perfectly clear to us that we'd be getting anything but a perfectly clear day! The cloud cover was thick, the visibility low, and a decent breeze threw the snow around. As we continued past the R.H.H. I was relieved to notice that the chimney pipe was spewing out smoke as it had indeed been fixed over the last few days. At least people would have a nice fire to warm up to once they arrived!

From here on in we were pretty much breaking trail on about 10-20cm of fresh snow...well John had very kindly broken trail for us! We crested the ridge at about 6km, where the views are normally breath taking, and we were all having some difficulty finding the actual route. John had decided to add some climbing to his day, and came bouncing out of the powder above us, having taken a quick detour. There are six foot tall orange marker poles all along the 11km to The Elfin Lakes Hut and we had simply overlooked a short turn to our right. Once we corrected our blunder it was clearly marked every 100 meters for the final 5km trek to E.L.H.

As we coninued along the now more forgiving, undulating terrain that would take us to Elfin Lakes, the socked in cloud cover made things seem a bit bigger, a bit farther, and a little more daunting. There were no views to distract you from what you were doing, just white as far as the eye could see...which was all of about thirty feet at times! Eventually it widled down to Ryne Melcher, Rick Arikado and myself, with John Dove up ahead, and Pat and Carrie Walsh just behind. By the time we reached the Elfin Shelter John had cooled down significantly and was ready to go again. Rick, Ryne and myself hung out for about twenty minutes, and Pat and Carrie spent a full hour relaxing in the hut. There was so much snow that you could have entered the shelter through the second story door if you so desired! There were stairs dug down to the first level entrance, which in and of itself is about four feet off the ground. There was easily twelve plus feet of snow back there!!

Oh yeah, and I am not giving full details of my wipe out on my skis as Rick shot a video and Ryne took pictures, while I flailed about like a new born deer stuck in six feet of the fresh stuff! I'm sure Rick has uploaded it to youtube already!

On the return trip we stopped into the Red Heather Hut to find a full shelter of at least twenty people, but not Fat Asses to be seen. We continued down to the parking lot which served as our start-finish area and proceeded straight to the Howe Sound Brew Pub to warm up and share a pint!

I had three draw prizes to award:

-20% off NSA Coupon went to Rick Arikado

-Free Yeti Snowshoe Race entry went to Carrie Walsh

-Trail Runner Magazine subscription to Amber Ringers

- Note from Sibylle: "Kintec Footlabs also sponsored 3 draw prizes.  They were awarded after the event to Monty Watts, Carolyn King and Lara Taylor.  I will contact the winners.  Sorry, I was down with the flu and unable to get the prizes to Gary in time."

Thanks so much to everyone for making it up to Squamish for the day. There were many new faces and it was great to see so many people enjoying snowshoeing, even though you were not rewarded with the views for your efforts! I guess that means you'll all have to come back up and try again next year!!

GR

Here are some photos of the day from CFA members. If you have photos that you would like to add to this slideshow, please upload them to your Flickr Account, tag them with SquamishScrambler2008 SquamishScrambler and ClubFatAssEvents and add them to the CFA Flickr Group. Detailed instructions on how to do this are posted here.

You can add your own report or feedback either via the comment function below or through your blog (once you posted a blog it can be attached to a results page by admin).

Here is Rick's video of the aftermath of Gary's wipe-out:

Please also take a moment and particpate in the online post event survey here.

Results:

2007 - Year 3

 WOW did we ever luck out with that weather!

The following photo badge is a link to the Club Fat Ass Flickr photo page. Check it out. You can upload your own photos to the Club Fat Ass photo pool on Flickr, comment on the photos and much more. Very cool.

2006 - Year 2

15 January 2006 - Starter Photo (not all participants pictured)

Click on the pictures in the grid to get to a photo album of the Squamish Scrambler.

Squamish Scrambler - View from the Back of the Pack

What an adventure!

Given that Vancouver had experienced 26 consecutive days of rain, I wasn't quite sure what to wear when I got up in the dark this past Sunday morning. I could see the stars as I packed snowshoes into the car. The city forecast was for intermittent sun and clouds. By the time we reached the mining museum at Britannia Beach, however, it was pouring rain... and I forgot to pack a poncho. Dho! For the next 20 minutes as we approached the Brennan Rec Centre in Squamish, I conjured up excuses for how to avoid snowshoeing in the rain while not loosing Club Points for being a no-show!

After a brief checking, we picked up Bill Dagg for the drive up to the Diamond Head trailhead. As we approached the end of the paved road, I joked with Bill about when I almost slid off the road and down a cliff the last time I tried to negotiate the last bit of the dirt road into the Diamond Head parking lot in the winter. Bill and the kids were reassured that our new Subaru Forrester was a highly-rated off-road wonder machine that could handle any back country challenge.

The next thing I knew we were sliding backwards. Young Erik (my 7 year old) almost soiled his snowsuit. Passengers bailed as the Forrester accelerated backwards down the hill. In the rear view mirror, I could see the guy in the van behind me hit the breaks and similarly start spinning out of control on the steep, icy road. After a few white-knuckle moments, the situation was back under control. I backed about a kilometer down the road to where more prudent and experienced back road drivers were installing chains.

As it turns out, most of the Fat Ass Scramblers assembled at the lower parking lot and jogged with their snowshoes a couple of K up to the trailhead. Good plan, as those monster trucks with chains that did make the drive weren't that much faster than us.

Amazingly, the snow was dry and powdery. Given that it had puked snow for the last several days, even the main trail up to Red Heather Cabin was deep and narrow. The snow was so deep that even with running snowshoes on, you sunk in up to your waist the moment you stepped off the packed trail. I hooked on to a good pace group. We steadily overtook the ski tourers who were also out to enjoy the pow.

It was about 10:30 when we arrived at the warming hut. Whiskey Jacks (a species of blue jays) swarmed us looking for handouts from our trail mix bags. The sun poked out from behind thick clouds as Elke Bauer, from the lead pack, looped back into camp. Word was that the 5K section of trail to Elfin Lakes hut had been broken, so I took off on my own to try and catch the leaders. (Who, by the way, had an hour head start on us because their vehicle made it to the upper parking lot!)

My solo trek to the Elfin Lakes cabin in was Zen-like. The deep powder muffled all sounds. Stunning views of the surrounding mountain peaks came and went with the passing clouds. The rolling ridgeline trail was a nice change of pace from the constant uphill grade to Red Heather. I barely recognized the cabin when I arrived as it was almost completely covered in snow.

I forgot to start my stopwatch, so I have no idea how long it had taken me or my position relative to the leaders. Part of me said, "Catch them and kick their butts!", the other said, "Chill, enjoy, take photos and win the snowman-making contest." I opted for the latter and thoroughly enjoyed taking action shots of many of our group who were coming up the trail as I made my way back down.

It was 2:30 by the time we reassembled at Red Heather. The hut was warm and cozy from the wood fire. My wife and kids were there with their snowshoes and toboggan. Complete strangers were sharing their lunches with each other as they gushed enthusiasm for the day, the conditions and how we in British Columbia are blessed to have all of this at our doorsteps.

Looking back on the day, I think the descent to the parking lot was most fun of all. While I thought trekking up to the hut with toboggan in tow was a lame idea, it turned out to be a stroke of genius. (Thanks, Sibylle!) The entire 5K trail from Red Heather to the trailhead was deep, narrow and downhill: It was as if all of the best technology in the world couldn't have invented a better luge course. The kids (then the adults!) piled onto the toboggan and flew to the bottom sending snow flying everywhere and occasionally crashing into the deep pow on the hairpin turns.

I've put photos of the day up on the Squamish Scrambler event website. Thank you to the Howe Sound Brewing Company for the pint and Trail Runner Magazine for the subscription I was awarded for the 2-dimensional peeing snowman. A special thank you, to Club Fat Ass event host Gary Robbins, for hosting a *fantastic* event!

2005 - Year 1

Preliminary results are posted below (way below ;-). Please click "read more" below or the title above to view the full page. If you would like to post your personal event story, please use the "post new comment link" below. Event photos are posted in the photo gallery.

The views that were promised will have to wait until next year, but the cloud and fog only seemed to add to the atmosphere of being in the mountains, especially when a strange voice echoed back at us from below...

With thirteen starters and finishers, some as young as seven, I was very impressed with the turnout for the first annual Squamish Scrambler.

Over a breakfast of Tim's coffee I looked up at the clouds and promised blue skies by mid day. Unfortunately the clouds waited a few hours longer than expected and everyone was treated to beautiful sunny skies as they were driving home along highway 99 that evening.

We started the 'hike' at 9:30am, and it was evident early, with the likes of Ean Jackson, Dom Repta, Geoff Palmer and Jim Mandelli that there would be very little 'hiking' amonst the lead group.

As soon as Dom hit the trail he was off, with the rest of the boys following suite. Cheryl Picot and Sue Nicholson formed a second running group, while the hiking pack consisted of Sibylle Tinsel, Eric and Johanna Jackson and Ami Jo Schamer.

After about a half hour of running the guys were at the Red Heather warming hut (5km). From there it was approximately thirty five minutes longer to the Elfin Lakes shelter (11km), where we all gathered inside, still holding out hope that a magical patch of blue ski would materialize. There was some discussion of deviating from the original route in favour of running to Mamquam Lake and back, (a total return distance of 44km from the parking lot, and yet another option for next years version) to avoid going higher into the cloud cover. Jackson, Palmer and myself (fortunately, at least for one person) decided to continue along our original route, while Dom and Jim headed back down to meet up with with their partners Cheryl and Sue.

It took Ean, Geoff and I about an additional fourty minutes to arrive at 'the saddle' (1h45m from parking lot). Columnar Peak was to the left and The Gargoyles to the right, I was aware that we were supposed to drop down the opposite side of the saddle following the only trail heading away from it. With visibility as low as 20-30 feet, we had trouble locating the proper trail and decided to continue along the visible trail up The Gargoyles. Once up top it was immediately clear as to where the name had originated as both sides of this narrow ridge were flanked by the tall, jagged, freestanding remains of the original ridgeline.

As we soaked up the atmosphere created by these figures pearing through the clouds at us, we shouted into the abyss below, and listened to our voices travel across an invisible landscape.

"HELLO..."

"hello...hello...HELLO...HELP!!

We were all in shock and looked at each other in disbelief...

"HELLO, IS SOMEONE DOWN THERE?"

"YES, I'VE FALLEN DOWN THE MOUNTAIN!"

Now keep in mind that we had just randomly shouted down a steep chute into the clouds and received a response...

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?"

"YES!!!"

We tried to assess the situation to see how we could best help.

"ARE YOU INJURED?"

"NO."

"IS THERE ANYONE ELSE WITH YOU?"

"NO."

"ARE YOU ON STABLE GROUND?"

"NOT REALLY."

"ARE YOU SAFELY ABLE TO STAY WHERE YOU ARE?"

"I THINK SO."

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DOWN THERE?"

"ABOUT TWO HOURS!"

Two hours! I have no idea what would have travelled through his mind in that amount of time, but we were all shocked at how calm and composed he seemed to be. Jackson proceeded to place a 911 call and after they took all our information they said that Squamish Search and Rescue would call us right back. As we were awaiting the return phone call from Search and Rescue, we heard what sounded like an avalance of rocks. Immediately after it subsided we yelled again,

"HELLO!"

"HELLO, CAN YOU HEAR US!"

"HELLO...HELLO...HEY...CAN YOU HEAR US?"

We had lost verbal contact with the guy, and had every reason to believe that the worst had occured. We didn't know what to do as we were peering down from above into pure nothingness. The rock was so loose that we couldn't even try to get a better vantage or shouting point without running the risk of dumping more rock down onto this guy!

We all spread out and started shouting into different chutes, I even grabbed my whistle and just started blaring into it...we absolutely needed to hear this guys voice again. The few minutes that may have passed in that time felt like an eternity, for we all thought that we had just heard some poor soul's last words.

Our thoughts were ripped back to reality as we could just make out a faint voice, now coming from further left on the mountain. He had indeed slipped and fallen further, and it had left him just out of our range of communication.

While we had all pondered the worst we realised that we didn't even know this person's name. Once we established contact again, it was the first thing we tried to cover...

"ARE YOU OK?"

We got a response and yelled back,

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

This started a painful exchange of inaudiable responses...

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

"Was that Mike he said?"

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

"I thought he said Dave?"

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

"I definately heard him say Alister...or Steve?"

Once we realised that we were useless in our present postion above him, we all agreed to head down from where we were via the main trail. We were hoping we would eventually be able to get somewhere near him from a side angle.

"WE CAN'T QUITE MAKE OUT WHAT YOU ARE SAYING. IF YOU CAN UNDERSTAND ME, WE ARE GOING TO TRY AND FIND A BETTER POSITION TO HELP YOU FROM. PLEASE TRY NOT TO MOVE. IT MAY BE A FEW MINUTES BEFORE YOU HEAR US AGAIN. WE ARE NOT LEAVING, AND MORE HELP IS ON THE WAY. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Again all we heard was a voice, and whether he said yes, or what, we simply did not know. Either way, we had to change our location, so we hiked back up the ridge we had dropped down which lead us back onto the main trail which inturn took us back onto the main saddle trail down.

We were finally able to locate the 'hidden' trail we had initially missed, and thankfully it lead in the general direction that we wanted to go. The main trail only took us so far before we ourselves were forced to scramble, albeit over much safer terrain than the fallen hiker was dealing with.

We slowly proceeded around the base of the rock face, while ourselves letting rocks slide off below us. Once we had safely made it around the first corner, we tried to contact him again,

"HELLO?"

"YEAH, I HEAR YOU."

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

"NOAH." (ahhh, Noah!)

"NOAH, DO YOU THINK YOU CAN SAFELY MAKE IT OVER THIS WAY?"

"HANG ON I'LL TRY..."

Again an avalance of rock let loose from the mountain, and again we lost contact with each other for a brief moment.

"YOU OK?"

"HELLO, YOU OK?"

"YEAH, BUT I DON'T THINK I CAN MAKE IT OVER THAT WAY!"

"THAT'S FINE, DON'T MOVE IF IT'S NOT SAFE. SEARCH AND RESCUE ARE ON THE WAY, AND WE WILL GET YOU OUT SAFELY."

"I THINK I CAN MAKE IT UP THIS CHUTE."

"PLEASE DO NOT MOVE IF IT IS NOT SAFE. THERE WILL BE PEOPLE HERE TO HELP SHORTLY."

We heard some more rock let loose and it was obvious that Noah wanted his situtation over sooner rather than later. Not two minutes had passed before we heard his voice again, this time from above us.

'I'M OUT! I'M OUT!"

"GREAT! NOW PLEASE DON'T MOVE UNTIL WE GET TO YOU. THE ROCK IS VERY LOOSE AROUND HERE."

Like we needed to tell this guy that the rock was loose!

Jackson, Palmer and myself safely turned around and scrambled back onto the main trail, where we were then able to make our way up to meet our new friend, Noah Timmons.

"WOW, thanks guys, I really owe you one!"

The kid, he looked maybe 21, looked none the worse for wear!

"Do you even have a scratch on you?"

"Yeah a few on my hands."

"What the hell happened to you?"

He went on to tell us of how he had planned to hike up Little Diamond Head, and then climb, with gear, up Atwell Peak...solo.

He, like us, had missed the main trail over the saddle and continued up and into the Gargoyles. At the end of the Gargoyles the trail tapers out into nothing. If you believed that you were on the right trail up Little Diamond Head, as Noah did, you would continue to look for the trail, as Noah did, and you would eventually loose your footing and slide down a loose, rocky chute for about 300 feet before managing to self arrest as you threw your arms and legs out once the chute became narrow enough to reach both sides...as Noah did. Then you would sit there for two hours contemplating how you were actually going to get your ass back out of this chute, and if you'd ever get the chance to taste beer again...as Noah undoubtedly did!

However, If you realised that you were on the wrong trail once it became too dangerous to negotiate, as we did, and you noticed how loose everything in the immeidate area was, as we did, you would undoubtedly come back down the ridgeline you had gone up, as we did. You would then aimlessly shout down a chute, just for the hell of it, and proceed to get a response from the cloud below, which would force you to go about helping some silly boy who had taken a wrong turn and somehow survived a 300 foot slide through loose and jagged rock down the side of a mountain...just as we did!

I think the most shocking thing, outside of Noah's lack of wounds, was his calm demeanor. He was very thankful, and friendly, but not in the least bit shaken by this! I initially thought he must be in shock, but after talking for a few minutes we realised he was fine and simply pointed him the in the right direction...back DOWN the mountain, on a hiking trail! He promised to call Search and Rescue and explain the situation.

Ean, Geoff and I continued along our original route, once we crossed over the saddle and found the trail heading away from it that is.

This trail eventually lead us above the tree line where we simply followed the numerous rock 'cairns' that lead the way. We reached the summit in almost exactly three hours (minus rescue time).

The views from the top were incredible, "Like I was in a ping ping ball", one guy commented. While another described it as, "Like I was on top of the world, on a really, really, really cloudy day". Someone else observed, "It's like I'm in the biggest snow cave ever known to man!"

WOW, rave reviews all around.

After praying to the Sun God for ten minutes we decided to head back out.

In true Ean Jackson form, he was convinced we were heading the wrong way, and tried to lead us down the mountain a good 90 degrees in the wrong direction! Luckily Geoff and I have heard one too many of Jackson's running tales, that always seem to end with, "I would have won that race if I didn't get lost!"

Low and behold by the time we had come down into the tree line again, it was just starting to clear off. A lake had come into view and even some of the closer smaller mountains were now visible. We unanimously agreed that a second attempt would be necessary on a clear day in the near future, and we even tossed around the idea of a winter snow shoe Fat Ass run. Stay tuned for that this winter.

On the run back out we came across Craig Moore and Ethelyn David, two no shows from the morning. Craig swears that he thought it started at 10am, and the fact that they showed up (just in time for the clearing weather) keeps them off the wall of shame. In fact, they will be immortalized in Squamish Lore for years to come, as they are officially the first people to have ever utilized our new Squamish Visitor Center (originally scheduled to open June 1st, 2005!). You will even be able to find them in next weeks edition of Squamish's newspaper, 'The Chief'.

Thanks to all participants. I promise to schedule next years event on a clear day!

Gary Robbins

P.S. Randy Hunter goes down in the 'where were you' minus one point category, and Mark Fearman gets a freebie as he called to say that his old Buick had finally bit the bullet...may she rest in peace!