Bambling — A Case Study

The idea for this trip originated from the fact that I don’t own a car, and last year I did not get out scrambling as much as I would have hoped. RIP my 2005 5spd Subaru Outback named Charli, it’s been 434 days :’(. This summer I’m hoping to give bike accessed scrambling (bambling?) a go, it should be possible to make it to some pretty rad places without the need for a gas guzzler.

The trip happened on Thursday, June 13th, as I’d seen an impending weekend of rainy weather (which turned out to be a lie) and wanted to do something active beforehand. I do work, but have a flexible enough situation to make the day up later with no repercussions.

I woke up bright and early at 5am in order to beat the heat of the day and start my ride around 6ish. A crow, whom I’ve started calling Mr. Crowley, had been preparing me for this morning by waking me up at 4am to 5am every day for the past week. I live in Point Grey, so my ride started out with a wonderful and speedy descent of the 8th hill while looking out over the northern skyline of mountains hovering behind the city.

Part of me wanted to get going even earlier to experience the vibes of biking in the dark/silence, but neither I, nor evidently Mr. Crowley was prepared for that. Regardless, the streets were pretty empty as I traveled eastward. I was admiring the still orangish sky as much as possible, but still wanted to cover ground pretty quickly. My route started out heading east on 8th, followed by a jaunt on the Arbutus Greenway, then back east and under the Granville bridge. I followed the path just South of Charleson park in order to skirt away from the seawall, then went back North for a bit before hopping on Adanac. The city was starting to wake up as I was nearing Iron Workers, the smell of gasoline reaching my nose from the cars zipping by me on the bridge. I finished crossing and arrived just as the Superstore was opening, where I stocked up on some much needed snacks.

The Seymour Demonstration Forest ride is wonderful, a nice undulating paved road with no potholes and no cars, it’s a bikers’ dream. I’d occasionally see the trees in front of me break to reveal brief glimpses of the mountains in Seymour Provincial park on the east, and Lynn Headwaters on the west.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I reached the Seymour dam and stashed my bike in a ditch behind a bunch of trees, locking the back wheel to the frame so no one could ride off with it. I’d just recently had the front wheel stolen off of my bike at UBC, so part of me also wanted to take the front wheel off and lock that as well, but I figured that was overkill.

The hike (which I’ve since discovered is the Vicar Lakes Route) starts off unassumingly on a nice mellow mountain bike path, skirts quickly to the right onto an access road, then suddenly veers straight up the mountainside on the left. There was no signage, but the trail was pretty obvious if you knew to look for it.

Most other places that aren’t the North Shore of Vancouver would have a very hard time calling it a ‘trail’. But it was typical for around here, a root/rock/dirt scramble gaining 730m of elevation over the course of 1.9km putting it at a cool 38.6% gradient. Damn. Despite this, it was remarkably well flagged, and I didn’t find myself checking my gps to ensure I was still on route. A lot of the flagging tape was printed with ‘North Shore Rescue’ so I wonder if they use it frequently (or just put that there so yahoos like me don’t get lost). There were ropes placed on the more technical sections, although I generally have a healthy distrust of frayed old ropes I find lying around. The ones I yanked all seemed pretty bomber, but I only used one in a section of slippery slabby rock where I deemed putting my weight on the rope to be the safest option.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I finally reached the top of the trail feeling pretty tired (as one might expect given the gradient) and surveyed my options for going further. The views out west were pretty good, and I could see what I think was Patton Peak and Cathedral. Unfortunately because of the trees it was pretty difficult to get a great look at anything closer except Vicar Peak. Judging by the snow still on the steeper bits, and not wanting to push myself after months of knee injuries and physio appointments, I wasn’t incredibly gung ho about climbing something. My inclination to turn back was confirmed as the trail got wetter and wetter. With the path now very creek-like, every step I took added slightly more water to my already soggy socks. I decided to have a proper snack and then head back down. Not surprisingly it took me just about as long to get down as it did for me to get up, though I did manage to snag a couple of views that I’d missed earlier despite focusing almost entirely on not falling and eating shit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting back to the dam, there was a group of (I assume dam) employees hanging out around their truck a few meters from where I’d stashed my bike. One of them gave me the strangest look as I dubiously walked straight into the forest with nothing, then walked straight out a few moments later with my bike. “Good morning,” I said. He seemed confused.

I had another quick snack break at the fish hatchery. Sunscreen reapplication was necessary – not only because the sun was now out in full force, but I’d opted for a wardrobe change to shorts because of the heat and now also had to contend with the glacier-like reflective surface of my untanned legs.

The ride back was largely uneventful. The area of roads/paths/highway just North of Iron Workers is (still) a maze, but somehow I’d managed to make it through without checking Google maps. A celebratory beer was purchased from the Jericho Village BCL, and enjoyed alongside a salty snack the moment I got home around 2pm.

I hope to do more ‘bambling’ trips this summer! Especially some that have a bit more emphasis on the scrambling… Although this area was still cool and I could see myself going back and trying to bag some of the nearby peaks. Case study… Successful?