Black Tusk - September 25 2022
Garibaldi Névé, Squamish, British Columbia
2319m
A couple weeks ago when I was doing Golden Ears, a couple party members (Jass and Lee) mentioned cooking up some plans to tackle the Black Tusk. As a classic which even my dad did back in his day, it was definitely a high-priority list item for me, so I jumped onboard, and we came up with a rough plan. They were going to camp at Helm Creek for fun/ease, and I'd meet them on the second day to do a summit bid, since I'm not much of an overnighter kind of guy. Logan was also back in town, and wanted to join as well.
Of course, none of that worked out. Lee and Jass were unable to grab a campsite, so we changed to all doing a day. Then we forgot to grab a day-pass at 7am and barely managed to snag a cancellation. Then Logan ran into car trouble the day before and had to bail. Then Jass woke up late and delayed the start in the morning... Eventually we got our ducks in a row, met up at my place, and I drove up to Rubble Creek Trailhead. We finally got ourselves started at 9:30. Not terribly late, but with sunset creeping earlier every day, and lofty goals with heavy packs, it was a bit close.
Those loft goals (and subsequent heavy packs) were really just a single goal: the true summit of Black Tusk. Most everyone on the face of the Earth goes to the end of the maintained trail just before the scree field starts, or to the false summit. However, from that false summit, there's a rappel/downclimb to a small plateau, and a subsequent climb up to the true summit, a spire a couple metres taller than the former. It is notoriously deteriorating, and I've only heard of a couple parties having made it. So, we were carry 2 ropes along with rappel/ascension gear (no prot though, since we'd heard there's really nowhere to place any).
That aside, we first had to get to the false summit. Thankfully, the vast majority of the approach is not just a nice trail, but my benchmark (along with the Red Heather Hut trail at Diamond Head) for "the ideal trail to bang out elevation". The trail is super even, easy to follow, and the grade (about 12.5% I believe) perfect for cranking out elevation without tiring yourself out. I set us at a pace not quite at my "mission mode" solo pace, but just enough that the group wouldn't tire out, and I could masochistically ensure we kept passing the other people we encountered😂
We made the junction between the Taylor Meadows and Garibaldi Lake trails in 1.5 hours, took a 20 minute break, got assaulted by bugs, and took off once more, if at a slightly slower pace. The next hour and a half brought us past the campground and to the Black Tusk junction, with a few stops for water and rest in-between. Sadly, there were still quite a few bugs assaulting us on each pause. On the other hand, the weather was quite nice, and our progress wasn't blistering, but still respectable, so things were still looking up. About 1100m of gain out of the way and 9.5km in 3 hours isn't a bad place to be.
Once you leave this junction, the trail gets steeper, and slightly less even (in the overall scale of trails, though, it's still pretty damn easy, just not "one can basically run without looking" anymore). Here, we switched from Lee wanting to take it easy to me and Jass asking to slow things down, as heavier packs (since we had the ropes) take more of a toll on steeper slopes. There still wasn't much of note, though. Other than the fact that even in late September, there was water basically the entire way up past Taylor Meadows, you couldn't go 5 minutes without hitting flowing water until you got into the rocks.
We made the end of the official trail in about 4 hours and 15 minutes, give or take (assuming I'm remembering where it was correctly, just below 2000m). This is where the nicely defined trail ends, and the scree begins. From here, it's a tedious slog up to the ridge where the summit block (the "tusk") starts, although thankfully not a terribly long one. We went slow, took breaks, chatted with a few people along the way, and got to the base of the chimney in a bit under an hour. For those wondering which chimney is correct, I'll say this: the "correct" chimney is accessed by going all the way along the ridge until it turns climber's right, and you'll see a pink ribbon marking the chimney. There are many before it, which look climbable, but will probably be harder, and I cannot guarantee if all or any of them top out somewhere useful. They could be more fun, though.
Now, since I've heard tons of people talking about "the chimney" being a serious scramble, helmet required for tons of loose rocks, etc. I figured I may as well throw on my rock shoes here (which I brought for the true summit), so while we waited for a group to descend, I switched footwear and stashed my runners to the side. I was, however, quite disappointed once I got into the chimney. Not only was the rock quite good (no rocks I seriously considered gave way), I would call it a class 2 scramble as the difficulty was trivial and the exposure nil. Honestly, quite a letdown.
If you don't work up the scramble in your head before as some great thing, you'll enjoy the fun excursion, just don't come expecting a rockies-level, multi-hour scramble like the route I took up Mount Niblock.
Once we topped the chimney out, it was a short walk across talus (rather unfriendly in rock shoes), then a narrow "slot" one has to walk into then stem out of (or just bypass to climber's right, which we didn't do). After that it's a very painful walk across more talus to the summit. Well, it was for me in my rock shoes, at least (I very much regretted wearing them up from the start of the scramble).
We got to the false summit in just about 6 hours, or 3:30pm. We congratulated each other for a bit, but me and Jass (Lee had no interest in such shenanigans) quickly got to work inspecting the conditions for the true summit bid.
The small amount of beta we had was years-old, and it involved rappelling down the edge to a plateau in the notch, and then just yeeting up an unprotectable face of loose crap to the summit. I sat down at the cliff's edge and tested the first big rock, and immediately caused a rockfall. It was horrible. The next few rocks fared no better. I couldn't see the bottom, so I took a picture with outstretched arms, and saw the below.
I did not like that rock quality, or the lack of anchors at the false summit. The rock-pile anchors that'd been used previously by Steven Song and others that year were gone, and I didn't really like that idea either. I would've sooner asked Lee to human-anchor us. However, I did actually find what I consider to be a superior option. Instead of rapping down off the cliff, go all the way to the top of the false summit, then head down a ramp which connects up with the bottom of the notch. It of course has some loose rocks, and slipping in the wrong way could end poorly, but you're not climbing the face after if you can't handle that level of risk. I would definitely recommend trying this way down instead. Plus, it means hauling one less rope (as other parties brought 2, and left the first rope fixed to ascend back up to the false summit). Of course, if you want to leave that rope at home, you need to trust my evaluation.
However, I did not end up trying that ramp out, because I just couldn't will myself to solo the rock after it. The first half of the climb is pretty easy, just stem up using the middle protrusion and you'll be fine. However, the rock after, as noted above, just looked so damn loose and there was nowhere for prot. Combined with a fall risk of minimally many broken bones and likely death, I just couldn't bring myself to send it. I figure there's a 90% chance I could make it, but that 10% comes with just too much risk. Maybe if I can figure out an anchor, or just put more time in climbing I'll be able to return, but for the time being, I had to settle for the false summit.
So, with my hopes quashed, and some serious pack-weight regret from hauling ropes up the whole mountain, we settled in for a quick lunch, pictures, and some conversations with the few groups who joined us up on the summit in the late afternoon. The weather was fantastic, so it was easy to spend time there; we stayed for an hour and twenty minutes.
The descent was painful as well with my rock shoes on, and I was thrilled to get back to the bottom of the chimney and free my feet. Thankfully, it wasn't too long, nor was it more difficult than the ascent, so I'd say this is actually quite the accessible scramble, although a helmet is a good idea if you're going when other parties are around (which is most of the time). A more experienced scrambler can be careful to avoid sending anything down, but there will be many less experienced or careful people just shooting stuff down.
Once we got to the bottom of the chimney, it was a simple traverse back across the bottom of the summit block, then just a bunch of scree back to the official trail, which we got to at about 5:45. Getting out with daylight was not going to be an easy task, and I was not hopeful, since I was the only one really keen on trail-running down for the sake of expedience.
Once we got back on the dirt, we made our way down to the Junction without much fuss. We didn't run down like I might've solo (apparently some people actually care about their knees, go figure), but we still managed to pass a couple parties on the way, so I was still pleased enough. We took a break at the junction for a bathroom visit, some scree-emptying for our shoes, and refills of water, and set out from the lake fork (below the Black Tusk fork) just after 6:30pm.
From there, it was back on the easiest of terrain, so we just went as far as as everyone was willing to stress their joints without having to worry about falling or getting tired. We stopped briefly in Taylor Meadows for a couple shots with the evening sun, and then continued on to get as far as we could in the light.
We made it to the merge with the Lake trail below Barrier Lake at 7:20pm, not quite out of light yet, and it took us another hour and twenty minutes to get down from there. The sun set less than halfway through that, but we had lights so it was no issue. This trail is so even you could just use a phone light and it wouldn't be a hindrance at all, really. At least unlike most of my nighttime descents, there were a bunch of people we passed on the way down, so I didn't feel like too much of a crazy person for getting out at that hour.
We got back to the car just about 11 hours after leaving, and quickly made the drive home to Squamish for some dinner before the last restaurant closed their kitchen. Apparently we weren't the only ones who had the idea, because we ended up sitting beside some fellow peakbaggers, and had a fun chat with them as we rewarded ourselves for a long day of hiking. Despite not making the true summit or setting any FKTs (not that I actually do the latter), it was still fun, and I'd recommend this as a classic hike with a good introductory scramble with great views. Plus who knows, maybe (hopefully) I'll be able to return for the true summit.