I feel like I’ve hyped up my adventure on Triple Peak to a level it’ll never live up to, no matter how well I write it. So prepare to be disappointed. Unless you’re one of the few concerned about my health and safety! In which case you can read this blog at ease, as I’m here writing it and not lying on a snow capped mountain on Vancouver Island that I tried to summit back in August.

For those who missed last week’s blog, take a read of my adventures climbing Mount Arrowsmith and chasing even more waterfalls around Vancouver Island. Also read the reason Becca, my safety conscience, wasn’t with me on these coming few adventures (where she was desperately needed): Climbing Mount Arrowsmith, Looping Benson and More – Week 13.

The Triple Peak Adventure

A blogger with experience would have left off this adventure for the end of one of his blogs. Following chronological order still, yet building suspense all the while. Good thing that’s not me! Plus, it turned into way too long of a story that I’m now making the Triple Peak adventure it’s own entire blog.

With Becca still cruising around Vancouver with her friends, I was left to my own devices. I decided a SMART move would be to drive 2 hours to the trailhead of Triple Peak from Nanaimo on the morning of Saturday, August 6th.

My initial plan was to hit two mountain hikes this day, both Triple Peak and 5040. These two hikes have trailheads from the same road, with reasonable climbing on each to make a nice full day. But you’ll recognize the headline is not “Insanity on Triple Peak and 5040,” but rather, “Insanity on Triple Peak.” Well, I only made it to one mountain this day.

Triple Peak Climb – Lower Half

The first half of this climb was pure bliss. I would almost not even call this part a hike, as it was more like a scramble up rocks beside this long-running waterfall. The trail itself was tougher to follow as it switched back and forth on either side of the waterfall, but either way, it was gorgeous the entire way up!

The waterfall itself runs down from an alpine lake sitting around 1000m above sea level. My plan for this hike was to get up to the alpine lake and turn back, before heading over to the 5040 hike on the other side of the road. On the way up, views of the 5040 peaks were visible from the Triple Peak trail as well, giving me a good sense of my goals for the day!

The hike from trailhead to alpine lake was only about 1.6km of trekking, with an increase of about 400m in elevation. Over the course of that distance, there were multiple ropes and different smaller bouldering problems to complete, utilizing both lower and upper body. Not an easy start to any hike, so I was definitely feeling it both physically and aerobically when I reached the alpine lake itself.

But none of this is ‘insane,’ per say.

My fun begins on the upper half of the hike. The half I wasn’t supposed to do.

Triple Peak Climb – Upper Half

When I reached the lake, I noticed that other hikers who had already ascended to this level had pitched tents and were planning to use the lake area as a campground for the night. Now that was smart thinking – I really wish I had thought of doing that. But again, along with Becca being my safety conscience, she is also the planner.

But there I was. Just a day pack. Half of my food, couple litres of water. I left the other half of my supplies in the car, as the entire hike was really supposed to be just one half of the day. 5040 was waiting, you see.

I got into a conversation with this group of campers at the lake. They were minutes away from heading out towards the peak, and eventually asked if I wanted to tag along.

“Sure! That’s where I was heading anyway, might as well come along!”

Famous last words. Famous last lie. Same thing, some would say.

Where It Got Sketchy

My thoughts on how the rest of the climb would go were along the following lines: follow the trail up to the summit, and then descend back down to the alpine lake where I would part ways with my new crew. This is usually the definition of hiking, I thought.

100 metres above the alpine lake and we had officially run out of the designated “summit trail”. Even with it being the beginning of August, the trail was lost under heavy snow pack. The crew stopped and began opening their backpacks, and this was my first slap in the face of knowing I had potentially screwed up.

They began to pull out ice axes and helmets, and I noticed a few ropes hanging around outside of their packs that were previously hidden by pack covers. Questions of, “Is this really a hike anymore” flitted in my brain, but I decided the incredibly smart move was to pull out my micro-spikes and keep heading up the steep, snow covered mountain side with the crew.

We continued climbing. At first, the snow had solid traction as the top layer was slightly melted from both the sun and higher temperatures resulting from lower elevation. But as we continued to rise, the snow turned icy.

I Didn’t Sign Up for This

One of our more experienced crew members, Emma, was in front creating a path up the snow. This included multiple kicks into the icy snow every step she took, to create a footprint for others to use! I was behind her, adding a few more kicks into each footprint and packing down the hold with my heavier weight. Alex, Lena and Steve followed up behind me. They had the added stability of using the ice axes as the third point of ground contact while I was using my hand, which started to go pretty numb from cold.

Along the sketchy journey of ice towards the summit, we had two slips that resulted in one of the crew members sliding ~10 metres down the mountainside on their backs. Both times they were able to stabilize the ice-axe into the snow and stop their momentum. The biggest issue with these slips is sliding right into the large rocks sticking out of the snow, that you can see on the right from the image above. Thinking about it, helmets made a lot of sense!

Each rock also had melted the snow around it, creating crevasses a few metres deep. Slipping down the mountain, into a crevasse and down onto a rock would be the worst case scenario on this part of the journey, so getting stabilized on any slip was of utmost importance. Good thing I just had my numb hands!

Eventually, we all made it safely to about 40 metres from the summit, before things got really out of hand.

I DEFINITELY Didn’t Sign Up for This

We decided to rest on a rocky outcrop beside the main summit to Triple Peak. On 3 of the 4 sides were downhill snowy slopes to the bottom of the mountain, while the 4th side was a rock wall that looked almost vertical. I ventured the question “Where to now?” which was met with the entire crew pulling out their ropes and harnesses.

They were going to climb this damn rock wall. This was no longer my definition of a hike.

They mentioned that it was supposedly a Class 4 scramble, meaning use of a rope was likely necessary. This climb would be done in steps, each person climbing ~10 metres or so and grouping together before ascending to the next section.

I found out Emma and Lena are rock climbing guides from Victoria, while Alex and Steve are their friends who wanted to come along for this experience. The two guides thought up a ton of ways to try to get me up this rock wall, even coming to the idea of removing a harness at each ~10 metre section and roping it back down for me to use.

We pondered it for a long time, but for the safety of everyone (leaving someone up on the wall without a harness while I climbed the wall was not deemed prudent safety), I decided to leave them to summit and turn around, down the mountain.

Can you believe my restraint? I still can’t. But what’s not pictured in the above shot is me, standing there beside this group of well prepared people with harnesses and helmets, while I’m decked out in micro-spikes and a damn bucket hat. If that doesn’t scream safe, I don’t know what does.

I was not confident enough in my abilities to try and climb that rock wall, and after seeing Emma head up and proclaim “This is not a class 4 scramble, this is easily a class 5,” meaning actual rock climbing, I had to admit defeat, tuck tail and turn home.

But not before asking the crew, “How the hell do I go down?”.

The Snowy Descent

And the answer was simple. Just slide down on your butt, it’s the safest way.

Hahaha, that’s hilarious. Just slide down, simple as that! Hahaha, great joke! Internally, I was thinking that after seeing a few uncontrolled slides on the way up the mountain, there was little chance I’d be trying to slide my way down.

I began walking back down the same path our group had ascended. Below were rocks and the dangerous crevasses that I had pointed out before, reinforcing my idea that sliding was a bad idea. At least until I got past the rocks.

All of a sudden walking down this steep and slippery slope was an exhausting idea. Why not just slide down? Break it into segments, slide down into the “safer” areas where I see somewhat level spots on the mountain that will slow my slide? I can do this. Think about how much time and energy it will save! Plus I figured, a controlled slide would look much better than the uncontrolled slides I saw previously.

Alone, with my crew climbing the rock walls behind me, I began butt-sliding down Triple Peak. While at first terrifying, it quickly became the most fun thing I had done all day. Picking the path, trying to control the slide as much as possible, I flew down that mountain towards the alpine lake at a seemingly rapid pace.

Halfway down I met a solo, Jordan, who taught me the one legged slide method. Jordan, a 10 year experienced mountaineer, had been up summiting different peaks by himself for most of the day and was on his way down when I ran into him. His experience (and experiences) were awesome and I learned a lot from our short conversation. He also let me in on the secret that even if a mountaineer has taken lessons, they don’t really know anything until a decade of actually doing the sport. MEANING, I better get started asap.

The Final Descent of Triple Peak

Jordan and I made the remainder of the trip to the alpine lake together, where we both decided it was time for a swim. Nothing as fresh as almost frozen glacier water to wake you up! I also think Jordan, a BC resident his entire life, was a little surprised that some Ontario guy that is used to warmer lakes was hopping into this frozen water. Just trying to break some stereotypes out here!

Jordan and I parted ways at the alpine lake and I descended the final 1.6km by myself. By the time I was departing the lake, there were probably about 6-8 camps set up for the night, and more people on the route to the top with large backpacks. Triple Peak is definitely a popular backcountry campsite, making it yet another destination I will be returning to!

Final Thoughts on Adventure

I hope my adventure on Triple Peak was worthy of the headline. If you’re coming at this from a mountaineering background, the story above likely seems like a walk in the park. If you’re coming at this from mostly anywhere else, well, hopefully I’ve piqued your interest in the sport of mountaineering, as I know this trip did for me.

And as it turns out, I discovered in myself my own safety conscience, turning back at a seemingly crucial decision point – to climb, or not to climb? I will still rely on Becca going forward, but it’s good to know I have my own internal braking system.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

-GoHikeABike