Pemberton Day

Last Minute Adventure

Gates Lake

Thu Aug 5th 

Just as I was about to sit down with a glass of wine and write up today's rather thin activities, a text arrived from Nick.  Do I want to go canoeing? An evening's paddle has to be much better for you than sitting down drinking wine, staring at a computer screen.  It wasn't in today's plan.

As part of our search for the right location  we planned to head up to Pemberton, about 25 minutes north of Whistler.  We'd stayed just north of there in a log cabin on a 14 acre former smallholding, next to Gates Lake some years ago.  We'd liked the town but hadn't been in house hunting mode back then.

Our first stop was the 60m high Nairn Falls, on Green River.  A 1.5k walk along a steep wooded valley side.  About a third of the way along a narrow path went down to a small beach area, away from the roaring torrent of Green River.  At the far end of the dirt track a short steep climb up an area of rocks took us to these thundering Falls. 

At the top of the Falls, the river funnelled through a narrow gap, dropping down to a simmering pool surrounded by rock. A few logs, trapped by the wall of rock surrounding the pool, were spinning slowly in the pool.  Outside the pool on the other side of the rock wall the river boiled up and carried out its way to the second large drop of the falls.  In full flood it must be an even more stunning sight.

The cauldron of water coming off the Falls headed off down the river, between the steep pine clad valley sides.

Jack who had been desperate to get down to the water finally got a paddle - on a lead!

Community Library

After lunch at Mile One in Pemberton, where they allowed dogs on the outdoor deck, we headed up to Gates Lake, to look up our old haunt.  We found a community park area where Jack could have a run and impress the locals with his swimming prowess.

We looked back at the top of the lake where we'd had the  the cabin.  It was sold soon after we stayed there.  We learnt from the locals at the community park beach that it was bought by three doctors, but is now back on the market.  If it was not so remote, we might have been interested.  It's an hour from Whistler, two and a half to three hours to Vancouver.

Back in Whistler, Nick's text was short.  Do you want to canoe the River of Golden Dreams, from Alta [Lake] to Green Lake.  Fred was cooking, Jack's ears perked up at the suggestion and I looked at my glass of wine.

It was to be a one way trip leaving my car at the sports centre by Green Lake and driving back with Nick to collect the canoe. 

We had a 1k hike to collect the canoe as Lizzie was using their truck.  In any event we would not have been able to park at Wayside Park where the canoe is kept, as there was a music event on at the Lake and the parked cars spilled onto the highway.  

The music event was a series of pontoons with different bands, playing, preparing or dismantling kit, surrounded by boats, paddle boards and canoes of all sizes enjoying the warm evening concert in a most unusual setting.

As is often the case finer details of the 'adventure' emerged on the walk to the lake.  'We may need to lift the canoe over logs on the way down' and 'I'm not sure what the water levels are like as there hasn't been any rain' and finally, 'once we have started on the river we are committed'.  In other words, there is no going back.   

Adventure sums it up.

Once across the Lake which is about 2k in length, we entered the river and water levels were good, but well below the weir about 400m into the river.  The other side was a different story.  Shallow water in the centre of a muddy river bed.  We debated 'portaging' down to Alta Lake Rd bridge but all the trolleys were locked up.  In the end I walked, the only stretch with a footpath, and Nick paddled, waded, dragged and enjoyed the mud, until we met up at the gravel bed at the bridge about 200m further downstream.  

We decided to press on and headed off following half a dozen inflatables, whose occupants had enjoyed a beer or two and loved their music.  We eventually got past them and pressed on.  There were several places where we had to lift the canoe over logs and shallow gravel banks.  It was an adventure!  

As we moved downriver the water level improved and it was a beautifully peaceful paddle.  It was clear though there was no going back and no obvious way out of the river, surrounded by high banks, marsh and thick undergrowth.  The music from the ghetto blaster long since gone, we rather hoped the inflatable rabble had made the right call and turned back. We almost felt sorry for them!

Half way down the river, Nick spotted something on the left bank, I thought it was an otter as we headed on collision course, we realised it was a beaver.  We were both buzzing never having been so close to a wild beaver.  It was right by the canoe.  No time to get a picture we considered going back, but decided to press on not knowing what more challenges may arise.

About 500m further on we spotted another beaver and then realised we were drifting into family of them.  We just watched.

We wondered if the first beaver we'd seen was part of the same family.  We were thrilled.

The canoeing Cronks

Adventure done, now back to that glass of wine and supper!  And I thought it would be a thin blog today!