Dinkey Dog Mountains
Summit #41 of 70--October 13, 2023
Right off, I’ll admit that these two summits, colorfully named Dog Mountain and Dinkey Peak, were not of the hunky-hulky type, so yeah, they were a little easier than most on my list so far. But hey, we had to go to an entirely different country to find them, and with the chance of rain in the forecast, there was great risk we could have been dribbled on or gotten our feet wet. But we perservered and we conquered.
After a grueling five-minute wait at the border crossing, Kris and I skated into Canada and aimed our expedition to Mount Seymour Provincial Park just north of Vancouver. I vaguely recall skiing there once, but it’s possible I’m misremembering that. Back when I was shushing semi-regularly, we usually went to Cypress for night skiing. One thing I know, I’ve never hiked at Mount Seymour.
Now that it’s mid-October, time was tight for driving and climbing. So we stopped at a bookstore in Burnaby to browse. Then I bought some cookies. To hurry us up, I took a wrong turn, wasting precious minutes that we could have been rained on in the event of rain, of which there was none, though we were ready in case it hadn’t not rained. You just never know.
Eventually, we found the parking lot and the washroom, which in Canadian means bathroom or restroom, or in the international language of places to relieve oneself of too much coffee, The Loo. This one was neat and tidy. Someday I’ll have to write a story of my best and worst washroom experiences in the Americas. Or maybe not.
From the ski area, we followed the signs to our first conqueree, Dog Mountain, which was attained by an up-and-down, 2.5 km trail that winds around a ridge and past a tiny lake. Much of the tread was badly eroded, with plenty of roots and rocks to clamber over. It seemed that maybe half the trail had been recently upgraded, so overall, it was quite hikable. Mostly.
The summit, if we can call it that, lies at the end of the trail where the conquerer is spit out onto a large rounded slab of glacial-scoured rock with a really big view. The visual sweep extends from Mount Baker to the southeast, Lummi and Orcas Islands, Boundary, Semiahmoo and Birch Bays, Point Roberts (south-ish), the Gulf Islands (southwest-ish), and of course, the great city itself splayed out below us.
Our perch was perfect for tea and sandwiches. A couple of suspicious looking ravens seemed to agree, apparently intent on joining the feast. They sidled up close, perhaps wondering if we were of the ilk who might at least share their crumbs with critters. We weren’t. While the ravens wondered and we ate human food, a dozen or more hikers came and went.
The trek back to the truck was a simple matter of reversing our steps, except that we walked forward not backward. We gained and lost around 700 feet of elevation in the 3.2-mile (5.0 km) round trip. I’m not sure if I want to admit that the so-called summit was only about 100 feet higher than our parking spot. I think I’ll keep that part to myself. That said, the roller coaster of a trail ensured that we got a reasonable workout, so we are counting this one. Dog Mountain: Summit #41.
Near the parking lot, another path runs up to Dinkey Peak, a gain of 300 feet in 1.5 miles, if you do the full loop which I did. But after checking the 70 summits rule book that I keep in a fishbowl roughly stashed midway between my ears, I concluded that Dinkey Peak was a little too dinky to count as #42. Fun, nonetheless.
Next time at Seymour, I’m doing a twofer: Pump Peak and Mount Seymour itself. I might even be able to knock them out on a short fall day, if I skip the cookie stop.
