Bulley Glacier, September 2nd to 5th, 2005


I'd begun planning for this trip back in July, when Lorna and I had
been told about the trail by the park maintenance person at Monkman
Provincial Park. Admitedly, we did not go in with a lot of information
about the area we were entering. I think that next time I do this I'll be
taking either a good topo map of the area, or a topographical GPS, although
we did end up doing fairly well just with my compass and the rough maps
I had. I will also make certain to head our much earlier than we actually
ended up heading out (and more in line with my original plans).

Friday

We ended up Heading out later than I had wanted, by a couple of hours,
arriving in Tumbler Ridge around sunset. This meant that the remainder
of the drive, normally 35 to 50 minutes, would be completed in the dark,
requiring us to go much slower. Once we got to the Bulley Forest Service
Road the going went even slower, as it was full of ruts and potholes, and
the recent rain had caused the potholes to fill with water, and the darkness
made certain we could not see how deep they were. Eventually we pulled
off to camp for the night at a camp site I had seen when biking down the
road with Lorna in July. With the lights from the van, as well as an electric
lantern and my LED headlamp we set up our tents for the night. As it was
clearing, I left the fly off my tent so that it would not have condensation on
it when I awoke the next morning.


Saturday

We got up earlier in the morning and cooked breakfast over my propane
stove, which is a decent stove for car camping and the like, but I would
never bring it backpacking. Then we packed up, got in the van and drove
the rest of the way down the road, to a river over which had once stood a
bridge, but over which there was currently only air, and the occassional
fallen tree.

Missing: One Bridge.

At this point started learning that Michael was not confident in his balance.
I easily made my way across the river where a number of trees had fallen
together, creating a sort of natural bridge. Michael paced along the shoreline,
reminding me of a cat faced with a similar situation, trying for all he was worth
to find an alternate way across, even if it would involve walking through the
creek itself.

Eventually, he made his way across and we began hiking down the old FSR,
which has been maintained by quad riders, who have built bridges out of logs
over the craters left by the removal of the old drainage culverts in the road,
and placed logs over the various rivers and creeks.

Looking at the mountains on either side of us we could see a fresh dusting of
snow upon them. The precipitation that had been rain in the lower areas had
come as snow, greying the mountains.

Along the way we came across several more river crossings, almost all of
which had been made significantly easier by the application of very large
logs across them. I strode with confidence across most of these, and Michael
often shuffled across them, still not confident of his balance. A couple of these
crossings were over streams flowing directly down the mountainside, creating
small waterfalls, which I appreciated for their beauty.

A Small Waterfall we crossed

As we walked we would occassionally catch glimpses of the glacier that was
our destination. It appeared to have a cloud caught on it, into which the peaks
disappeared. It was difficult to see where glacier ended and cloud began, as
they simply blended into one another, becoming a white haze. Seeing the
glacier, despite its disappearing quality, was a welcome site, assuring us
that we were on the right course.

The Bulley Glacier

However, we lost sight of the glacier behind a mountain, and I was pretty sure
that we had to start bushwacking there to actually get to the glacier, but were
no signs of others having done so through the dense forest, so stayed on the
trail until saw a cutblock access path up a hill, towards the mountain/ridge
obscuring our view. We up this path and tracked through the cutblock until we
found a tiny stream of water, beside which we grabbed lunch.

With no sign of a path heading further toward the glacier, we decided to head
back to the former FSR to see if it simply curved around and had access to
the glacier from another valley.

We followed the path to its terminus, as it narrowed to a mere quad trail, down
which we walked. It ended with the quad track heading into the creek, disappearing
from sight. As we didn't have hip waders this meant that we were a little bit SOL as
far as following it went, so we back-tracked a ways and ended up scrambling down
to the creek edge further upstream, at a point where the quad track reappeared on
the near bank, providing a nice bank to follow. But, quads are very different from
people, and easily dive into creeks and onto opposite banks when the creek begins
winding too much and it soon became apparent that whatever quads had been along
here had done just that, and that trying to follow them was simply pointless. As a
result we ended up struggling along the creek bank as it wound its way through the
valley, leading towards the glacier, which we would catch occassional glimpses of
through the trees. Several times Michael looked for ways across to the other bank,
certain that the travel there would be easier, but I always vetoed this idea, noting
that, by not trying to walk across a creek that was definitely deeper than our boots,
our feet were remaining dry.

After a couple of hours of bushwacking we were both getting pretty tired, and we
agreed to start looking for a place to set our tents for the night. We ended up finding
a nice, secluded little clearing in a slightly drier area, and set up our tents. Along the
banks of the creek at this point there was a huge thicket of some kind of bush that
was a right pain to struggle through wearing a full pack, so we were confident we
would hear anything coming at us from that direction. It was also just around the
bend, and over a hill, from a flattened area beside the creek, which we could use
to have our cookfire. All in all a wonderful spot, miles from anyone else.

The creek beside where we camped

That night I used the fly on my tent, aware that it would likely be a bit chillier, and
doing so would thus be a little bit more comfortable, and warmer. I slept fairly well
that night, comfortable in my tent and sleeping bag. Although it had rained a little
bit that night as I lay to go to bed by midnight it had cleared completely, with the
temperature outside plummetting.


Sunday

When I woke the next morning and tried to look out the windows on my tent I noticed
that they appeared to be frosted over. When I got out I saw that we had indeed had
a fairly significant frost, covering not only our tents but anything else that was outside
with a thin layer of ice. The sky had remained clear though, and the sun had melted
away the frost on the far side of the valley, but I could tell it would be some time before
it did the same for the side our tents were on.

Michael, seeing the frost

The tents in the frost

The other side of the valley

After breakfast we packed up our bags and hung them between some trees, so that
bears would not be making a mess of them. We only what we needed for lunch we
headed upstream once more, trying to find our way to the glacier, which was the source
of the creek. With the sky cleared we could see the glacier clearly, and without our
packs the hike was much easier, although it was still difficult, with the creek constantly
winding its way along the valley, with many smaller streams feeding into it. But, with
each bend of the creek we got closer to our goal.

The Glacier	Glacier and Hillside
Edge of the glacier	Bright snow and hills
Facing cliffs

Eventually it got to be around noon and we decided to break for lunch on a rocky part
of the bank of the creek. We had agreed, before heading out, that we would hike until
about noon, have lunch, hike back to camp, get our gear, and begin the hike back to
Michael's van. It was at this point that we also saw our first potential sign of bear -
some overturned moss in one of the marshy areas. I figured it was a bear searching
for grubs. Otherwise, we saw no sign of bear whatsoever, and mainly just elk tracks.

The site of the glacier was amazing. The snow was beautiful in the sunlight, and
falling down the cliff from the glacier was a waterfall, the source of Bulley Creek.

The Glacier

The Waterfall

As we were eating lunch, and after I had grabbed some photos of the area, it began
clouding over, with clouds moving in from behind the glacier, casting shadows on
the mountains and making the air a touch cooler.

Mountain framing valley	Cliff below glacier
Clouding over...	Valley and glacier
Full glacier	Sky, Glacier, Cliff
Mountain behind us	Mountain facing us

For our hike back we decided to try a more straight-line approach, heading further up
the hillside and away from the river. However, only towards the end did we manage
to go far enough up the hillside that we were not constantly climbing and descending
the ridges that accentuated each bend in the creek. No matter how far up we went,
however, we crossed little streams and marshes. I was quite surprised how, even
over 100 metres from the creek, and a fair distance up the mountain-side, the ground
was positively sopping with moisture, with mosses and ferns dripping it forth when
you brushed or stepped upon them.

Eventually we began wondering if we had made it back to our campsite yet, and made
our way back down to the creek edge, to discover that we had overshot it, by a couple
of turns. However, we successfully found our way back, untied our bear caches, and
got ready to head back to the quad track, where we would camp for the night.

Backlit Mountain

Backlit Mountain

We actually hiked back a fair ways, finally making camp on the banks of a creek, leaving
us with a much shorter hike for the following day, and exhausted enough that we were
guaranteed to sleep well. Although the sun was still up when we began setting up camp,
with the sun lighting the side of the mountain we had just passed, the sun quickly sank
behind the mountains around us, and it was dark by the time we finished dinner and
tried to find a tree on which to hang our food. As we were sitting and eating dinner, looking
back along the trail towards our tents we saw a moose wander out of the woods, just behind
our tents, sniff in our direction, pause for a moment, and then continue along its way, across
the trail and disappearing into the woods. I instantly heard, in my head, the theme song
from Northern Exposure.


Monday

It was a somewhat cloudy morning, but the sun broke through the clouds somewhat,
lighting individual spots on the mountains. We packed up slowly, feeling all of the
km's we had covered the previous day, although we still had good energy levels
and were able to make good time. Within a couple of hours we were back at the
van, into which we loaded our gear and ourselves, and finally set off, towards
Fort St. John.

Sunspot on the mountain.

When I got back into the apartment hanging stuff to dry was the first order of business.
My tent, especially the fly, was still quite damp from the frost, and the rest of my gear
was in varying states of damp, although after an hour in the Fort St. John air pretty much
everything had dried out.



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