A Couple of Loonies Out for a Tzoonie
Updated: 2 hours ago
A single push traverse of the lesser travelled and beautiful Tzoonie Divide
Each summer, Nick and I try to attempt a big traverse through the Coast Mountain Range. Usually, something that makes me gulp is just the right level of intimidation. This year, after much contemplation, we set our sights on the Tzoonie Divide. If you are from Squamish, there is a high likelihood that you have looked at the Tzoonie Divide from the Sky Pilot group or the Tantalus Range without even realizing it. The Tzoonie Divide is a (mostly) continuous ridgeline that connects Sechelt Inlet to the Ashlu River Valley, spanning roughly 60 kilometres. The Tzoonie Divide contains several notable summits along the way, including Mount Gustavson (1809m), Misery Peak (1840m), Ramona Peak (2000m), Tzoonie Mountain (2100m), Tatlow Peak (1857m), and Mount Jimmy Jimmy (2175m). The name Tzoonie is an anglicized word that originates from the shíshálh Nation (Sechelt). Tzoonie is the name of the river that flows into Narrows Inlet on the northwest side of the divide. The Tzoonie Divide is unique in the sense that it is one line of mountains that separates two major rivers and inlets: Narrows Inlet and Tzoonie River to the north, with Salmon Inlet and the Clowholm River to the south.
The inspiration to attempt the Tzoonie Divide came from flipping through John Baldwin's new book, Coast Mountain High Routes. Coast Mountain High Routes provides few details for these types of traverses, but it does highlight specifics and provides beautiful imagery. For large-scale traverses in the Coast Mountains, it is better to provide the inspiration and let people do the bulk of their own research since many of these trips are serious undertakings. Nick and I have had our sights set on some big and remote traverses in the Coast Mountains for years. The Tzoonie Divide seemed like it could be a good test for other bigger and more committing traverses of this style in the future. Remote, but not days of travel from civilization remote. In Baldwin's book, he describes starting with a heli-drop on the shoulder of Mount Gustavson. Obviously, the best style would be to start at the true terminus of the divide on Sechelt Inlet. After some discussions, Nick and I decided to skip the driving, BC Ferries, water taxi, and 1800m of bushwhacking logistics. Instead, we settled on flying directly to the West Shoulder of Mount Gustavson (from Squamish) as per Baldwin's recommendations. After all, the likelihood of being able to complete this traverse within daylight hours diminishes very quickly when considering a start on Sechelt Inlet. Our plan was to tag as many summits as made sense along the way. However, the size and moving speed factor of the day quickly had us leaving summits for "next time." On July 31st at 6:00 AM, we arrived at the Black Tusk Heliport to meet up with my childhood friend Zak Berrisford, who is now a pilot at Black Tusk Heli. We lifted off the ground around 6:30 AM, headed west towards Mount Gustavson with spectacular morning views over the Tantalus Range. It was a real treat to fly with Zak, who has become quite an experienced and skilled pilot. Thankfully, Zak agreed to follow along my Garmin InReach breadcrumbs throughout the day and be our primary emergency contact in case we needed a quick pick-up.
After a smooth 25-minute flight, we found ourselves alone on the West Shoulder of Mt. Gustavson with the finish at Mt. Jimmy Jimmy completely out of sight. While I felt greatly privileged and excited to be here, I also felt the weight of what we were attempting settle in. I suppose it's not an adventure if you know exactly what lies ahead. With a chill in the morning air, we layered up, wasted no time, and set off towards Misery Peak and the first bushwhack of the day.
The first difficulties of the day came within 30 minutes. The SW ridge of Misery Peak involved dense 4th class bushwhacking, the type of bush that snags any loose item that you have not secured well. Thankfully, the bush lasted less than 20 minutes, and we hiked up the ridge towards the Misery Peak Col. After realizing just how far away Mount Jimmy Jimmy was, the decision not to climb Misery Peak seemed rather easy.
From Misery Peak, we descended rolling granite slabs before a short climb up Colquhoun Peak, which involved a 30m section of 4th class climbing before rambling through krummholz to its small summit. After the brief interruption of Colquhoun, we continued our descent towards the Colquhoun-Ramona Col, where another short but easy section of brushy old-growth forest brought us back into the subalpine. We traversed around the west shoulder of Ramona's subsummit and past a gorgeous alpine lake where we stopped to refill water and appreciate the views of the tidal narrows on Narrows Inlet. This marked the start of the true alpine terrain we would traverse for the next 11 hours.
the narrows of Narrows Inlet First water fill up after 3 hours on the move Appreciating the first of many beautiful lakes. Talus hopping towards Ramona Peak
One peak we had interest in gaining the summit was Ramona Peak (1960m). Most people who have been into the Tantalus Range have probably stared right at Ramona's impressive 400m unclimbed East Face without knowing it. Thankfully, Ramona's summit is easily obtained from the West face. Nick and I dropped our packs and made a quick out-and-back of Ramona. An ascent of the impressive East Face would be worth returning for, along with an ascent of Ramona's potentially unclimbed NW Summit (1900m). Ramona Peak was first climbed by Tom Fyles and his sons in the summer of 1939, accessed via boat from Narrows Inlet. Subsequently, Fyles also made the first ascent of Tzoonie Mountain. You can read about Fyles' trip to the Tzoonie Divide in the 1940 CAJ. It is worth mentioning the obvious landmark here that is Ramona Lake. Ramona Lake is an alpine hydro reservoir owned and operated by BluEarth Renewables in partnership with the shíshálh Nation. The project was fully completed and operational in 2019 and features one of Canada's longest Alimak Raises of 528m (tunneling tactic for steep gradients). Eventually, a blast 32m below the surface of the lake was used to connect Ramona Lake to the 1800m of excavated rock. You can see a video of the blast (pretty crazy watch) and learn more by following this link https://www.canmine.ca/projects/upper-ramona-hydro-project. Alpine hydro facilities and reservoirs are highly common in many mountain ranges around the world. However, seeing the odd low water line as a result of the Ramona Lake Hydro project did look somewhat out of place amongst the coastal sub-alpine.
Looking down the impressive East Face of Ramona Peak Ramona Peak Ramona Lake Cautiously taking the previous image Glissading down from Ramona Peak
In Baldwin's Coast Mountain High Routes KML download, he shows that they dropped down below Ramona Lake, then gained the alpine again. I assume this was to pitch camp by the lake. By doing this, we would end up doing a substantial amount of bushwhacking while losing roughly 400m of elevation. Thanks to some previous research, we figured out that we could follow a bench across Ramona's West Face and only lose around 100m of elevation. After successfully navigating Ramona, we continued along one of the most beautiful sections of the traverse. Expansive granite slabs as far as the eye can see, with waterfalls and unique alpine lakes scattering the landscape. During one 20-minute stretch just past Misery Lake, we followed a mountain goat until eventually it got tired of us and took off over the ridge. Shortly after our mountain goat encounter, we came across a pothole-shaped glacier that was necessary to cross in order to gain access to the east side of Tzoonie Mountain. We jogged awkwardly across the glacier's deep sun cups, eventually gaining access to a col where we could spot Tzoonie Mountain and the impressive Phantom Mountain.
Nick cruising along slabs above Misery Lake Looking off across Salmon inlet The pothole glacier Our first close up glimpse of Tzoonie Mountain Mount Tantalus looks rather impressive from here.
Initially, we had much interest in climbing Tzoonie Mountain via the S ridge (supposedly low-5th), but as we came closer, we re-evaluated, feeling the effects of the minor heat 5.5 hours into the day and the reality that we were still just barely halfway through. We made the call to keep moving, which, in hindsight, we were both thankful for. Crossing below Tzoonie Mountain was nothing short of spectacular. Tzoonie has a significant, unclimbed, and intimidating East face that towers overhead. Below, several massive waterfalls plunge deep into the glacier-scoured valley—terrain that usually is not associated with summits under 2500m. We side-hilled across the basin, then plodded up steeply to a small col where we appreciated views into the headwaters of the Tzoonie River. Nick and I stopped for five minutes to remove packs and take down some calories at the first real sign of fatigue. One more steep climb to an unnamed summit, then we would make our first large descent of the day into the Tatlow River Valley. Luckily, the descent into the Tatlow River Valley started with a 500m long glissade where we made some very good time. Unfortunately, this was immediately followed by boulder hopping down a glacier-carved gully with slick slabs and running water. We quickly lost much of the time we gained on the glissade. This descent marked the end of the high granite slabs that characterize the Tzoonie Divide.
Slabby terrain South of Tzoonie Mountain Unclimbed East Face of Tzoonie Mountain A signature Coast Range waterfall Starting our descent to Tatlow Creek (Headwaters seen in middle of pic) Slogging in the sun
As we jogged down Tatlow Creek, I made sure my bear spray was in an accessible place. A stunning meadow with thickets of brush everywhere and ample food meant that we should start being more bear aware. After 20 minutes or so, we arrived at Tatlow Lake. Perhaps one of the most beautiful places I have been within 20 km of Squamish. Massive granite walls on all sides of the valley with aqua blue water and stunted coniferous trees scattering the lake shore. Below Tatlow Lake, the creek flows into a complex canyon that features some of the best technical "creek boating" in the area. When I describe the Coast Range to people, this is what I am thinking of. We stopped to fill up water and appreciate the climbing potential in the area. Somewhere I would gladly return to. While I would love for more people to experience wild spaces, I am thankful that the Tatlow River Valley is far too difficult to access for the masses. Some places are meant to be left for bears and goats to roam uninterrupted.
Tatlow Lake and Vrubel Peak Splitter hands crack boulder anyone?!
After the 750m descent down to Tatlow Lake, we started the climb up Tatlow Peak. The temperatures were not ridiculous, but it was enough to have both Nick and me feeling warm and unpleasant. Not to mention a sudden increase in bugs. We made one quick stop for water at a shaded stream before the bugs had us on the move. We traveled in and out of thick brush, culminating with some low 5th-class alder climbing beside a waterfall while following bear tracks. Eventually, after feeling somewhat worked, we emerged back into the alpine and continued to the high col near the summit of Tatlow Peak. Once at the high col on Tatlow Peak, I noticed a huge rockfall scar on the opposing side of the valley above the Clowhom River. It looks to be somewhat recent, perhaps within the last decade; it certainly would have made a loud boom! Our next mission was to descend another 550m down to the Clowhom River, where we encountered some more thick bush, increased signs of recently foraging bears, and incredible views of the seldom-visited Phantom Lake.
Water fill up after some sweaty bushwhacking Nick plodding towards Tatlow Peak Impressive rockfall scar above Clowholm River Phantom Lake
In general, I don't tend to stress about bears too much in the wilderness. However, our only logical option to move efficiently up the Clowholm River for 2 km was to follow the well-used grizzly bear tunnel through the thickets of shrubs. With a rushing river beside us, I figured that now was a good time to keep the bear spray in hand. I held my breath around each blind corner, thinking that I might actually need to use my spray. Thankfully, we did not encounter the valley's resident grizzly. The only time I tend to worry about bears is when there is enough ambient noise to drown out my hollers or claps with low visibility in the alders. Otherwise, the bear trail actually made for efficient travel up-valley; otherwise, it would have been a heinous bushwhack. Before starting our final 750 m climb up the shoulder of Mount Jimmy Jimmy, we crossed directly below the massive rockfall scar. The recently fractured granite boulders are still completely white, and some are the size of houses. If I had to guess, the size of the rockfall from head-scarp to river is 700-900 m.
Cooling off below in the Clowholm River Checking the map as we start up Jimmy Jimmy Impressive boulders
As the day slowly faded into the evening, we marched our way up Mount Jimmy Jimmy. A short bout of minor brush brought us into the alpine, where we made a quick stop for water again on the Clowholm River. With the heat of the day behind us, the temperatures for mosquitoes were perfect. This meant that we did not stop long, pushing the pace up the next 200m of the climb until we hit a glacier where the bugs diminished. This glacier on the west side of Mount Jimmy Jimmy also happens to be the headwaters of the Clowholm River. The glacier presented few difficulties. Walking thorough the glacial slush puddles actually felt nice on the feet after nearly 12 hours on the move. A short section of 4th class climbing and a steep snow slope, along with some jogging across the upper glacier, brought us to the final col at 7:10 PM. I took a moment to use our two bars of cell service to text Kat and Zak with an update. We appreciated the incredible evening light over the Tantalus Range but had to get moving before long. We still had a convoluted 10km and 1600m descent before we would meet Kat on the FSR1
Fireweed on the West side of Jimmy Jimmy Cooling off! Glacier cruising Another water fill up Nick before the short 4th class section On the glacial plateau. Nearly at the col. Mount Tantalus from the NW
The day had begun to take a toll on my body as we descended towards Pokosha Pass. The glissading ended all too soon, and we accepted the all-too-familiar pounding down the steep slabs and creek hops. Our final tricky navigational crux was negotiating a cliff band near the bottom of the alpine basin. We wandered around for a couple of minutes in the fading light and stopped over large bands of cliffs and powerful waterfalls. Eventually, we committed to a slightly awkward low-5th down climb into a steep creek bed below another significant waterfall. We gingerly hiked down the creek bed filled with large, unstable, and wet river boulders. This was likely the most dangerous part of the day considering our tired state and the bad nature of the rock. A few minutes later, back on solid ground, we headed down to Pokosha Pass in hopes of meeting up with the Pokosha Pass trail. As it turns out, there was 100m of very thick, steep, slide alder, devil's club, and salmonberry bushes guarding our path. Once again, we encountered another well-traveled bear path through the brush. I put my bear spray in hand once again but this time was thankful that the bear had worn a trail through what otherwise may have taken double the amount of time and been highly unpleasant. Once onto the freshly trimmed Pokosha Pass Trail, we put our brains on autopilot and made good time. Cruising down the muddy trail felt easy compared to the 50 or so KM of off-trail travel we'd just encountered. I continued to give a good holler every couple of minutes considering that it was almost dark and we'd just seen a large pile of steaming and salmonberry-filled bear scat on the trail. The last couple of kilometers to the car felt like an eternity, but eventually, we found ourselves wading through Pokosha Creek at 9:10 PM and jogging a short distance down the logging road to where Kat had organized to meet us with beverages and two large burritos (HUGE thank you, Kat!).
Nick descending off Jimmy Jimmy with Sigurd Peak teh final bear garden of the day Nick crossing Pokosha Creek just before needing headlamps.
The Tzoonie Divide is situated just a short 30 kilometers away from Squamish as the crow flies. However, even with that close proximity being considered, the Tzoonie Divide Traverse will provide you with a true Coast Range wilderness experience. This day felt like perhaps the most committing single-push alpine traverse I have ever done. The feeling of being dropped off in the middle of nowhere with very limited supplies on our backs is similar to what early Alpine Style climbers may have felt while approaching massive Himalayan faces. If you have read the book "Night Naked" or "One Day as a Tiger," you'll know what I am talking about. When it comes to moving off-trail through the Coast Mountains, the statistics are somewhat meaningless. The challenges come in the form of bush, talus, slow-moving terrain, and complex route finding. The 14-hour effort involved to complete this traverse might be equivalent to double the elevation gain on typical alpine trails. Sort of like grades in climbing, generally, everything becomes more complicated and sometimes meaningless once you hit the alpine. In our case, with no trails and a very general idea of where to go. For me, this day really opened my eyes to what else is possible in a similar style in the Coast Mountains. Perhaps some of the more ambitious traverses of my dreams in the Coast Range could become a reality in the near future!
On the topic of Fast and light, I think it is prudent that I discuss what I carried in my pack for the day. Due to the remote nature of the traverse, I carried a few more emergency items then usual in the case of having to spend a couple nights out.
Arc'teryx Norvan 14 L Running Pack
Polarized Sun Glasses
Small Tin of Zinc Sun Cream
Garmin InReach Mini (Set to tracking. Kat, Zak, and Brian Burger followed along all day)
Bear Spray (Better safe than sorry)
Katadyn Water filtration Flask (Should have left it at home, was never worried about the water sources)
Ultralight Patagonia Sleeping Bag (Would not be a comfortable night with that, but it would keep you alive)
Lightweight Arc'teryx Rain Shell
Ultralight Arc'teryx Mid-layer
Arc’teryx Norvan Insulated women's Jacket
Arc'teryx Squamish Wind Pant
Arc'teryx Wool Neck Toque
Rab Ultralight Guides Tarp + Cordage
First Aid Kit (I mostly carry big bleed items, various painkillers, lighter, slices of inner tube as fire starter, hand warmers, safety pins, rubber gloves, splint material, etc...)
Warm gloves
Petzl Ride Ice Axe (cut down to a shorter length. I do not recommend or promote doing this to yours. A self arrest would be unlikely with a ice axe that short.)
900 Lumen headlamp (not pictured)
130cm carbon Decathlon running poles (not pictured)
Tzoonie Divide Traverse Stats
55km
3800m Gain
5118m Loss
14:04:56 Mount Gustavson West Shoulder - Pokosha Creek Crossing
Gps Track: (Wix does not like GPX files, sorry!)
Excellent description of a crazy long and arduous adventure. Wise choices of gear for an overnight bivy. Sounds like you did what you could in Grizzly country. If anyone can do these kinds of traverses its you and Nick! 😍💪