This week we’ve got something a little different for you.
We’ve written before about the beautiful Neal Carter photo collection, which documents a two-week exploratory mountaineering expedition into the mountains surrounding Alta Lake by Neal and his friend Charles Townsend in September 1923.
Approaching the summit of Wedge Mountain.
Well, since we also have the written account that Charles wrote for the British Columbia Mountaineering Cub’s journal, we plugged some of their photos and words together into Google Earth, and have recreated their encounter with these mysterious, unexplored peaks as a sort of virtual tour that you can follow from the comforts of your home:
This first video revisits the first two days of their trip, during which the pair managed the first ascent of Wedge Mountain – the highest peak around. Instead of contently heading back to Rainbow Lodge, Neal and Charles continued deeper into the Coast Mountain wilderness towards the lesser-known but equally formidable Mount James Turner, which they named after a popular Vancouver reverend. Check back next week for this episode, as well as their subsequent climb of Whistler Mountain and more first ascents deeper in the Fitzsimmons Range.
Of course, watching this little video doesn’t provide quite the same experience as actually climbing these peaks. Since we’re currently enjoying a wonderful window of late summer weather similar to 1923, hopefully the virtual tour inspires you to get up into the alpine for some fresh air, exercise, and inspiring views!
With clear, refreshing waters surrounded by a wooded shoreline, a relaxing beach, a massive network of biking, hiking, and cross-country ski trails—and yes, the nudist dock—Lost Lake Park is one of Whistler’s gems.
In the days of Rainbow Lodge Alex & Myrtle Philip would often ride horses or hike to Lost Lake with their guests for an afternoon of swimming, fishing, and picnics. Lesser known is the story of how, in later years, the park was almost lost before it ever came to be.
Myrtle Philip entertaining Rainbow Lodge guests at Lost Lake, early 1930s.
It is Whistler’s great fortune that a young forester named Don MacLaurin decided to make Alpha Lake his summer home during the early 1960s. In his spare time Don was an avid hiker and climber, and was very interested in parkland management (he would later teach this subject at BCIT).
At Lost Lake, Don foresaw a beautiful natural playground. His combination of insider knowledge of the forestry industry, and land conservation policies were put to good use, as Don recalled during a 2007 interview with the museum,
There were two timber licenses straddling the lake. North to South. And [local mill operator] Laurence Valleau, bless his heart, was trying NOT to log any more around the lake. He recognized the value of the Lake… The timber licenses around Lost Lake I knew were expiring. I also knew that people KNEW that they were expiring and there were posts driven into the ground for people applying for waterfront property.
An early logging operation on Lost Lake, ca. 1940s.
With amazing foresight (remember, this was before the arrival of downhill skiing, and Whistler Village was still more than 15 years away), Don used his connections to convince the Parks Branch to designate Lost Lake as a potential UREP (Use, Recreation and Enjoyment of the Public) area, preventing land privatization. and preserving the space in perpetuity.
Lost Lake in the early 1980s, a wooded oasis increasingly surrounded by clearcuts and urbanization.With the construction of Whistler Village and ever-expanding development in ensuing decades, Lost Lake’s value as a public space increased even more. The trail networks we know today came later, thanks to the dedication of community groups such as the Alta Lake Sports Club and WORCA, but their possibility was created thanks to Don’s early vision.
It’s easy to take Whistler’s immense natural beauty for granted. A closer look, however, reveals that it is only thanks to individuals like Don that so much has been preserved in its present state to be equally enjoyed by future generations.
Most would agree that the physical landscape has played as much a role in our region’s history as the people, so we figured we’d give Mother Nature her due by profiling some of the amazing natural features and landmarks surrounding Whistler.
As with any history, it’s easiest to start at the beginning, so it only makes sense to go way back and profile the oldest thing in Whistler, Fissile Mountain.
Beginning over 200 million years ago sediment deposited in a large basin that was forming between the west coast of North America and smaller tectonic plates incoming from the Pacific. The ensuing tectonic clash created the Coast Mountains and left much of the ancient sediment basin covered with younger rock.
Fissile Mountain is our region’s notable exception, as it’s steep slopes of rotten shale and sandstone are actually a persistent exposure of this ancient sedimentary rock. For tens of millions of years now, Fissile has weathered stoically all the while witnessing the creation and growth of surrounding, much younger peaks.
Fissile Mountain is full of character. This rock face can be found between the Banana Couloir and the Northwest Face.
Undoubtedly local First Nations have their own set of stories from millennia of hunting goats, climbing around, or simply admiring the striking peak from a distance. Fissile’s first modern ascent is unrecorded, and was likely achieved by prospectors around the turn of the twentieth century. The Singing Pass area between Fissile and Whistler saw a fair bit of mining activity at the time, and for decades an old prospecting hut doubled as a popular hiking destination for residents and visitors to Alta Lake. Back then, however, there was no Fissile, it being known instead as “Red Mountain.”
Myrtle Philip takes in the sublime setting at “Red Mountain,” 1928. William “Mac” MacDermott photo.
For a long time we weren’t sure whether “Red Mountain” was today’s Fissile or it’s neighbour Overlord, both are in the same general area and composed of rotten, rust-coloured rock, but one of Neal Carter’s old climbing photos fully convinced us it was Fissile.
Shown below, the annotations on the backside of this 1923 Neal Carter photograph, which looks south from the near the summit of Wedge Mountain, clearly identified Fissile (only the top of which is visible) as “Red Mountain” while identifying Overlord as well. Note how the foreground peaks and glaciers (the Blackcomb backcountry, including Mount Pattison, Mount Trorey, and Mount Decker) are unidentified because at this time they were still unclimbed and unnamed.
Neal Carter’s 1923 photograph. The digital scan of the backside of the print has been reversed. Carter actually wrote the mountain annotations backwards. If you hold the original print up to a light, they can be seen through the image, appearing the right way around, pointing to their respective peaks. All the other writing (that which appears backwards here) doesn’t really show through the darker parts of the image. “C.T.T.” (backwards) refers to Charles T. Townsend, Carter’s climbing partner who is visible in the right-hand foreground.
Red Mountain received its current name in 1965, based on a suggestion from the Fitzsimmons Names Committee, which consisted of local mountain-lover Karl Ricker, and interestingly enough, Neal Carter. “Fissile” is an adjective used by geologists for rocks that split easily, which will make sense to anyone who has ever slipped and skidded up (or down!) the loose, sharp rocks which cover Fissile’s flanks.
In 1968, the British Columbia Mountaineering Club, led by local climbing veteran Werner Himmelsbach, built a small backcountry hut at the base of Fissile beside Russett Lake. Now known as the Himmelsbach Hut and administered by BC Parks, the compact, sturdy, and easy-assembly Gothic Arch design has been replicated with several other backcountry huts throughout the Coast Mountains. In ensuing years the area grew in renown as a summer hiking and climbing area (the rotten rock isn’t pleasant to climb, but the north-facing snow and ice routes stay in great shape all summer long).
With the rapid growth of Whistler Mountain, and major advancements in ski technique and equipment, it wasn’t long before skiers followed suit. Many pioneers have been forgotten with the passage of time, but John Baldwin’s “Whistler Backcountry” map credits Jim Vaillancourt with the Saddle Chute’s first descent way back in 1980, and the imposing Northeast Face route was first skied by the prolific skiing/climbing duo of Jia Condon and Rich Prohaska in 1990.
As a result the entire north side of Fissile Mountain has become an absolute classic among steep-ski enthusiasts, with close to a dozen named runs. These days it’s a genuine race across the Musical Bumps to get there first when in prime condition. (Don’t be fooled though, folks. This is serious mountain terrain that deserves caution and respect.)
This is why Fissile is such a favourite among backcountry skiers.
Fissile is undoubtedly one of Whistler’s most iconic peaks. Even if you’ve never skied or climbed its flanks it has probably left an impression on you, as the jagged pyramid is plainly visible from all over the ski resort.
Fissile dominates the view from many points within Whistler-Blackcomb, including here at the top of the old Orange Chair. George Benjamin photo.
It’s visual impact is so strong that when Eldon Beck first began conceiving the layout for Whistler Village in the late 1970s, his starting point was the Village Gate entrance, which he designed specifically so that Fissile would be visible to greet incoming tourists. On one of Beck’s original drawings held in our archives, he even labelled “an entrance of importance with a view of Mt. Fissel [sic].” (For more on the design of Whistler Village, check this post.) Inspired viewscapes such as this have shaped the experiences of countless visitors to Whistler over the years, and convinced more than a few of us to stay.
How about you? Do you have any interesting Fissile stories? What is your favourite local peak?
As the end of summer approaches many people might make the most of it by going on one last camping trip before heading back to work and school. To all those, the Museum would like to offer the advice of Old Bill, suitable for all seasons.
Waiting for the train at Alta Lake station, 1937. Left to right: Bill Bailiff, Mr and Mrs Racey, Ed Droll, Betty Woollard, Larry, Flo and Bob Williamson.
Born in Liverpool, Bill Bailiff moved to Canada and began working for the Pacific Great Eastern railway in 1913. He soon quit over unsafe working conditions and walked up the unfinished track to make his home at Alta Lake. Bill settled in a log cabin on the Pemberton Trail near Scotia Creek and kept a trapline up the Cheakamus and in Fitzsimmons Pass. As the community around Alta Lake grew Bill became an involved resident so that at the time of his death in 1958 he had been serving as the president of the Alta Lake Community Club.
First Alta Lake Community Club picnic on the point at Rainbow.
Founded in 1924 the Alta Lake Community Club regularly held dances, card parties, and film nights, as well as constructing the first school building in the area. The club also put out a weekly newsletter called the Community Weekly Sunset to which Bill, as president, contributed a column on life in the mountains. Going through the archives I found one of these columns entitled “What Not to Do” and thought it was time to share the advice of Old Bill.
Original illustration from the Community Weekly Sunset.
1. Don’t ever make your campfire against a tree and in summertime don’t make it against a log or windfall. make it where it can be controlled at any time. Remember, fire is a good servant but a bad master.
2. If in company never carry a firearm loaded. By loaded I mean a live shell in the chamber. Be careful of that sharp axe, best to have it covered as anyone brushing against you could receive a nasty cut.
3. Don’t go sliding down a steep snowbank as you may not be able to stop and the rocks below are harder and sharper than your bones.
4. If on a glacier don’t ever attempt to cross on a snowbridge over a crevice as these are liable to give way anytime so leave that to the experienced mountaineers who rope themselves.
5. Don’t be a litterbug around a campsite clean it up as someone else might be along to use it and don’t stay too long on a snowfield without dark glasses on as you may get a terrific headache from partial snowblindness.
6. Remember your forest ranger is your friend and you’ll find him very nice and co-operative providing you are not a careless firebug who none of us has any use for.
7. Don’t go killing wild life needlessly as some species are nearing extinction from indiscriminate slaughter. Much better to try a shot with your camera and picture them.
9. Don’t be an old grouch round the camp or on the trail as this has a bad morale effect on others. If the going is tough take it with a smile and joke about it as it makes it easier and pleasanter.
From a different issue but still applicable. Original illustration in the Community Weekly Sunset.
Sound advice, 90 years ago or today. Happy camping!
