International – Mossfest (aka “Anklefest”) 2013

I had been thinking about inviting some folks to come up and do some canyoning in my own neck of the woods (southwest British Columbia) for the last year or so. The descents, last year, of Box and Monmouth Creeks (as chronicled in the film “Down the Line” by my friend Fix) really boosted the desire to share these beautiful spots.

Over the Labour Day long weekend, a bunch of people converged around Vancouver and Squamish to visit some pretty (flowing) canyons… There were folks from Idaho, Colorado, Utah, Washington, and some locals from Vancouver. Unfortunately, we didn’t really have a central, easy location to meet up, rally and socialize. I think that next year (if Mossfest manages to last another year) we may try to coordinate some campsites up in Squamish.

Things were going to get started on Friday, August 30. I worked a midnight shift on Thursday night, and heard talk of some thunderstorms and rain warnings for that night. I wasn’t too concerned about it, because we’d had such a dry summer that even a major rainfall should only saturate the parched mountains, and not inundate the creeks. Well, I sure was wrong. There was an absolutely obscene amount of rain that night…

Some of the lightning strikes painted on the radar at work, as the storm was about to make landfall:

On Friday morning, the first party out went to check out Cypress Creek, a pleasant romp within about 20 minutes of downtown Vancouver. They found it “raging” as my buddy Jeff put it – a “death sentence”! Instead, they spent some time at Starbucks, then the Colorado/Washington/Utah contingent headed downtown and dined and did some stand-up paddleboarding…

There was some curiosity about how the Squamish canyons would be after the rains, but we decided to go ahead and give Box a try on Saturday morning. We all gathered, got some coffee, and congregated at our meeting spot for our boat shuttle. Almost two hours (!!!) after we were supposed to be on our way to the trailhead, we were finally off. (“Sorry, had a party show up late this morning,” said the boat guy. More like he booked three groups for the same time, I figure…)

The jet boat that shuttled us was an awesome trip. We had a couple of exciting spins and twirls on the way, and got thoroughly splashed. Definitely a fun way to cross the river!

There were fifteen of us hoping to make our way through Box Creek this day. We had one rope for each rappel, and planned to cascade through, setting each rappel as the first person down reached it. First, though we had to see whether the water level would be reasonable

From the parking lot at Starbucks, early in the morning, Monmouth looked scary-big, but Box was not at all visible. As we got closer, we could hear Monmouth raging, and decided already that it was off the table for the next day; there was no way the water could abate enough overnight to make it safe. Box, however, looked much more reasonable, once we reached its confluence with Monmouth. We would continue up and give it a go!

When we reached the drop-in point, Jeff and I were still a tiny bit concerned about the water level. We weren’t so much worried about being able to get everyone through safely – it was just a matter of the comfort level of some of those newer to canyons – and to flowing canyons – that concerned us. We knew that the third rappel was the one that would pound the hardest. I was the first to descend it. It did pound pretty hard; in the last 20 feet straight down a cascade in the full flow of the water, it was pretty disorienting – but also utterly amazing. I got off the rappel, gave two blasts of the whistle, and let out a huge “woooo-hooooo!” Jeff, at the top of the rappel, said he heard that and knew that the rest of the canyon would be awesome!

Here are a few of my photos from Box:

Hiking in:

Ilze on second rappel:

Jeff nearing the bottom of the fourth rappel:

Ilze again, on the fifth rappel:

Deeps on the sixth rappel:

Malia starting the second stage of the seventh rappel:

Rest of the photos are on Picasa, here.

So, final rappel, Deeps is around 10th or 12th down the rap. Finishes off on a little ledge just above the pool, and gets off the rope. He steps down into the pool, and starts to walk across. A rock rolls or shifts or something, under his right foot – and he twists his ankle. From there, he hobbles along with a stick for the remainder of the hike back to the boat meeting spot. It’s about 40 minutes, first along a rocky creekbed, then a fairly level trail. Deeps completes it like a champ.

He knows he won’t be able to do another canyon, so the next day he begins his trek home, driving via Seattle to visit friends. When he gets home, he has an x-ray taken, and… a fracture of the distal fibula. 6 weeks in a boot, to be followed by 2 weeks of physio. Deeps is out for the fall season!

Anyway, after the canyon, the boat is there to meet us pretty much on time (phew!) and we head to the brew pub for libations and some well deserved sustenance!

Next morning, we decide (since Monmouth is too rambunctious) to give Cypress Creek another shot (as Deeps sets out for home). Good news – we hike in to the first viewpoint, and the water level is fantastic! It is flowing hard, but not TOO hard – just the right amount to make it awesome. This time we have 12 people, for a total of four rappels.

Neil on rappel one:

Ira, Steve and Laura, in the upper narrows:

Malia and Jane, near the top of the second rappel:

Anja on rappel two:

Top of rap 3, as seen from rap 2:

Ilze on rap 3:

Lisa on rap 4:

Malia disappearing down rap 4:

All goes smoothly – until the end of the last rappel. There is a deep, narrow pool there. On rappel, three of us get off of the rope on a small ledge about 15 feet up, still being pounded by the waterfall. From there, we jump into the deep, turbulent pool. All goes well. Then we find a spot where a ledge can be climbed to about 10 feet high, and jump in again. It works fine for Neil. It works fine for me. Then Jeff takes a turn. But he does a little half-spin in mid-air, just playing a little bit. He ends up not going out quite far enough, and the curve of his body brings him even closer to the slope of the rock entering the pool, and he slams his foot hard against the wall. He thinks he feels a crack, and calls out once he’s back above water.

We had planned initially on going all the way to the ocean, none of us having done the lower part of the canyon before, but we now decide to just get Jeff safely out, and escape via the normal route. Jeff has a long hard slog of it all the way back, unable to bear weight on his foot. Ironically, Lisa, who had sprained her ankle in the same canyon three weeks earlier, takes a brace off of her ankle for Jeff to wear on his. (She’d had a spare one also, but gave it to Deeps already!)

Jeff being assisted downcanyon (he’s in the gaggle going by the big log):

We accompanied Jeff to the exit, where he crawled up a steep stretch, then Ira and I got on each side of him, and helped him up the trail back to the car.

Ira, Jeff and me, reaching the parking lot:

(photo by J.D.)

Jeff’s wife, Jen, came and picked him up and took him to emergency, as the rest of us retired to a nearby pub for – again – libations and sustenance. We got word later that the x-ray didn’t show anything, but it was obscured by metal in his heel from a previous injury! Next morning, he had a CT scan, and yup – another fracture. This one in the medial malleolus of the tibia. Another guy out for a couple of months.

Rest of the Cypress photos on Picasa, here.

Two broken ankles in two days. Kind of disheartening…

The weather on Monday morning was drizzly, and there were some thundershowers around. My sense of adventure had taken a serious drubbing, after the onslaught of a major storm, the logistical snafu of a late boat ride, two badly injured ankles, and more looming weather. I just wanted to relax… The Colorado/Washington group went and descended Goldie Creek (looks like they had a good time!), while my wife and I went for a touristy morning at Granville Island Public Market with Malia, Jane, Ilze and Ove. We didn’t care how hard it rained, and nobody fell down, not even once. A good ending to the fest, as far as I’m concerned!

As for whether it happens again next year… It may be too early to tell!