The Hike up Baldy Mountain

July 25th (Saturday)

Although we had planned to get an early start on the day of our expedition, we awoke in the morning to cloud and showers.  The forecast was still for nice weather for the day and for the rest of the forecast time, so we were hopeful that the weather would still improve and that we could be more confident that the nice weather was actually on its way.  Sure enough, as the morning progressed the clouds began to lighten and break up.  We made the decision to head out and we put on our packs and walked up the dock to our truck.  We drove up to the lake and loaded up Little Red.  We were off.

When we got over to the sand and gravel bar at South Saiak Creek we were surprised to see that the water was about six inches higher on the lake than it had been before yesterday’s rain.  The six inches in water height had made a big difference to our sand and gravel bar, and much of it was now under water.  Luckily there was still a little piece that was dry and we were able to nose the boat in to shore.  Because there was not much beach to pull the boat up onto, we took some time and tied the boat off very well.  We tied it in such a way that it would be effectively held in one spot whether the water level rose or dropped.  We took one line from the bow and one from the stern and tied them out to a large root structure of a log that was away from shore.  We then tied a line from the bow and one from the stern to shore.  The boat was secure.  

We put on our packs and headed up into the forest at 10:10.  Now we were really on our way.  As we made our way up along the north side of South Saiak Creek we walked over the soft, mossy covering of the forest floor.  We passed many black huckleberries and some blueberry plants, and we picked some berries here and there to eat as we went.  The forest was still very wet from the rain, and it did not take long from walking through the undergrowth for us to get quite wet.  We considered that we potentially should have waited an extra day before heading out so that things would have dried some, but we did not want to waste one of our nice-weather days.  We were already out there and already wet, so it was too late, and we carried on.  

When we got up to the old logging road we crossed South Saiak Creek.  Although it is called a creek it was running quickly and was more like a small river.  It was about 50 feet across and about two feet deep.  We decided to try to make our way across without getting wet and we hopped from one exposed rock to the next.  We made it.  

Now began stage two of our hike -- the old logging road.  From what we had been told the logging that was done in this area was about 25 years ago.  When they were finished logging they discontinued the road by digging ditches across it.  This is normal on old logging roads and we were familiar with it.  Normally, from our experience they dig a few ditches along the road’s length, especially one or two near the beginning so that people can not access it by vehicle anymore.  

As we proceeded along this old logging road we were shocked by the frequency of the ditches; there was one about every 20-100 feet.  Literally, sometimes I would be just coming out of the last one and Jason would be already going down into the next one.  Each ditch was about 8-12 feet deep and the sides were steep with loose slippery rocks, criss-crossed recent deadfall trees, and slippery roots.  It was not easy progress and it added substantially to our distance and elevation gain as we continued to go down-up, down-up through thick underbrush.  Several times we tried making our way along off to the side of the old road, but there the going was even worse.  They had logged right up to the road and the old slash area was worse than the road.  

We made our way up and wrapped around the corner of Baldy Mountain into the South Saiak Valley.  When we got to the first major stream that came down from the south side, the Baldy Mountain side, we knew we were at our turn.  We turned southward and began our climb up the mountain and through the 25 year-old clear-cut.  We had now begun stage three of the climb.  

As we had expected, we found that the old clear-cut area was even worse than the old logging road.  The clear-cut had never been re-planted and 25 years later the trees were not the dominant growth.  Small spruce trees, no more than ten feet tall, were the only real sign of tree growth.  These were generally closely spaced and their branches intertwined like a barbed-wire fence with their sharp needles.  The brush plants, which were the most prevalent and best developed, varied immensely.  I do not know most of them by name, but Jason and I are familiar with most of them from other bushwhacking trips that we have done.  Usually they grow in areas of deadfall where the sun reaches the ground, and even then their growth is usually limited to a few years of good sunlight.  Here, they were still the dominant growth and thriving.  Their stocks, which are usually only designed to support them for about 5 feet of growth, had had to adapt as they grew up to about ten feet.  Their stocks were thick, about 2”, and they had fallen along the ground for support before growing back upward when they could support their foliage.  These stocks created a criss-crossing mat of slippery stocks over the already slick and steep mountainside.  The foliage was so thick above this mat that it often appeared as an impenetrable wall; we could not see the ground or where our feet were stepping.  Each step was a fight, we had to break through the wall of sticks and thorns and leaves, then we had to find a secure and stable stepping point blindly with our foot, and then we had to pull our selves through the tangle.  

There had been no good resting point on our trip and we had only stopped briefly for water.  The higher we climbed the worse the bugs got and all we wanted was to find a flat spot to stop and take off our packs and rest, perhaps even camp for the night, but there were no flat spots.  We continued on.  

Finally we came to the edge of the old clear-cut.  We were now back into the forest and onto stage four of our climb.  The progress became easier, but the mountain was still steep, and we were tired.  Eventually we found a little spot by the stream.  It was a gorgeous area and we were so happy to take off our packs and rest.  We considered camping there for the night, but there was barely enough room for our tent and we were concerned about flash runoff since we did not know what the snowpack looked like up above.  After a one-hour break with some food and lots of water we decided to carry on.  

With renewed spirit and energy we made our way up, up, up.  We passed through many beautiful, steep meadow areas with perfectly clear pools of water and thick grass.  On what few level spots we did find the ground was always very soggy so we carried on upwards.  

After a long line of connecting meadow areas where the going was steep, but easy, we arrived at the tree line once again.  The gradient became even steeper, but we had lots of handholds thanks to the many well-rooted plants, branches, and roots.  We climbed up with our renewed energy quickly fading, and then suddenly out we came.  We had made it onto the ridge, onto the shoulder of Baldy Mountain.  Yippee!!  We were so happy and suddenly so full of energy; we wanted to see the view from here, from there, and to see what was up over there.  

We set down our packs at a decent level area and explored around for a while, free from the weight of our packs.  “Wow” over here, “Wow” over there, it was “Wow” everywhere.  Finally we picked the best camp spot that we had found, and went to grab our packs.  

We set up camp and boiled water for our freeze-dried meals.  They tasted delicious!!  Nothing like a gruelling seven-hour hike, plus an extra hour of exploration, to get the appetite going and make the food taste amazing.  

Although the clouds had broken up somewhat through the day, as the evening progressed they were getting darker once again.  We were worried that perhaps the forecast had changed and that rain was on its way.  We listened to the VHF weather forecast with our hand held VHF.  It was funny because we cannot receive the marine weather forecast on the VHF down at sea level in Ocean Falls, but up here we had a line of site to the transmitting tower on Calvert Island so we easily picked up the forecast.  There was no mention of rain and so, still a little sceptical, at 22:00 we finally climbed into bed, happy, but exhausted.