The title, “Chief” inspires awe. It denotes status or leadership. In North America, leaders of Indigenous peoples carry the title of “Chief.”
When I was a child, the image of a “Chief” in my mind was that of a tall, red-skinned man, dressed in full regalia – an elaborate headdress with eagle feathers or maybe buffalo horns, a buckskin shirt decorated with geometric patterns, a vest with elaborate beadwork, or perhaps, a bone breastplate or a feather bundle, bear claw necklace, arm band, and a pair of moccasins with mulit-coloured design. He would have a poker face with piercing eyes, a regal nose, and a deep-set jaw. He would be imposing, intimidating even. He would evoke wonder, command respect, and even strike fear.
So, when my cousin asked if I was interested in joining her and her friends on a Canada Day hike up the summit of the Stawamus Chief, I imagined an interesting trek up a very imposing mountain. I had only been in Canada for less than a year that time, and was still unfamiliar with many things that locals do and places where locals go. Apparently, most Canadians like to spend their time outdoors exploring nature. In Vancouver, where it is grey and rainy for most of the year but where summers are perfect, people venture out. And because mountains are easily accessible from the city, locals troop there to hike and camp in the summer months, and ski and sled in the winter season.
My cousin and her friends have done a lot of hikes in the past, but I was a newbie. Before I moved to Canada, I lived a cosmopolitan lifestyle in the city and my only form of physical exercise back then was strolling inside air-conditioned malls on the weekends when I was free. I was not an outdoorsy person then, partially because of the hot and humid climate in the Philippines that triggers my respiratory allergies, and partially because I was too busy with work to make time for these things.
I had hiked for maybe less than five times in my life in the Philippines, and only because I had to do them. The first time was at Mount Makiling in Laguna province, which was our finals for our “Fitness Walking” Physical Education class in university (and I’d like to mention that when I signed up for this class, I was not aware that we were going to do a mountain hike for our finals). The next few times were for my TV shows – either to do ocular inspections or shoot episodes in mountainous areas. I climbed Taal Volcano in Batangas and Biak-na-Bato in Bulacan, and hiked in the forests surrounding Daranak Falls in Tanay, as well as the Echo Valley in Sagada and the Banaue Rice Terraces in the Cordillera Mountains. (I promise to write about these trips.)
I was apprehensive to say “yes,” to my cousin, but since I had no plans for the Canada Day long weekend and I got really curious about the Stawamus Chief, I signed up. After all, a hike is just a walk in the mountain - an imposing mountain, but nevertheless, just a long walk, right?
WRONG!!! And I learned it the hard way.
Stawamus Chief, officially Stawamus Chief Mountain, and simply referred to as “The Chief,” is described as “a granite dome located adjacent to the town of Squamish, British Columbia. It towers over 700 meters above the waters of nearby Howe Sound and is one of the largest granite monoliths in the world.” In fact, it is the second largest, next only to the Rock of Gibraltar, off the coast of Spain.
The magic word is “granite.” It is a massive cliff face. This means that even though it is considered one of the most classic hikes in the Sea to Sky Corridor, it is by no means an easy hike. Its topography does not allow for trails that go around the mountain. Rather, they go straight up, and while not overly technical in nature, it is a challenging climb and involves a little bit of rock climbing.
Of course, I did NOT know this. I showed up for the excursion wearing casual clothes and a pair of sneakers with no socks. My co-hikers, on the other hand, were in full hiking gear, including sturdy hiking boots, and some, with walking sticks. We all did some pre-requisite warm-up exercises before we commenced our hike. At that point, the contrast between the state of their physical fitness and mine was already pretty evident.
The Chief has three peaks, and though it is possible to hike on all three on the same day, we would only do one.
The First Peak is the closest to the main parking lot and is considered the easiest. Hence, it is the most popular and the busiest. They say it provides the best view of Howe Sound. This was the trail that the group chose to do. The round-trip distance from the parking lot is only four kilometers, but because of the steep nature of the trail and the sheer cliffs on three sides of the mountain, it was estimated that we would need around two to three hours. (Did someone say “cliffs?” Alarm bells sounded in my head, but I tried to ignore them.)
The Second Peak is the largest of the three summits that offers all kinds of viewpoints for a panoramic view of Howe Sound, the town of Squamish, and the peaks of Garibaldi Provincial Park to the north. The first and third peaks are also visible from here.
The Third Peak is a treed summit at the top of a large granite slab and is the highest among the three. It is accessible from the second peak where you drop down into a canyon and continue with the trail that climbs up.
There is another peak called the Zodiac Summit, which is actually a sub-summit of the Third Peak, but it is quite isolated and there are no proper trails that lead there.
I did not worry about the last three peaks. I was thinking about the First Peak and the word “cliffs.”
In the beginning, it seemed easy enough. It was a simple walk into the forest along a wide trail, but soon enough, when we reached the wooden stairs, I realized this was the start of the challenging uphill climb. Apart from the steepness, we also had to deal with hikers coming back down. On the grounds, we had to navigate our way around big rocks and huge protruding tree roots.
I was told that this first section of the trail is shared with the Sea to Summit Trail that leads to the top of the Sea to Summit Gondola (another tourist attraction in this area), that’s why it was extra busy. However, at the first junction, the trail splits into two paths – left to The Chief, and right to the Sea to Summit Trail. I found out that there are more junctions along the way. The next one splits into the path to the first peak on the left, and the path that goes directly to the third peak on the right, which apparently is not a well-traveled route. Further up, another junction splits into the path to the first peak on the left and then to the second and third peaks on the right. It was good that the junctions were well-marked and my hiking companions were familiar with the trail. I made a mental note that the easiest path is to always go left.
On the plus side, in-between my panting, I got to admire the view of Oleson Creek, which ran alongside the trail and at one point, even the famous Shannon Falls in the distance.
But this sightseeing on the side was interrupted when we reached a metal ladder, rising almost 180 degrees up that we had to tackle before reaching another forest. Great!
I somehow managed and I thought the climbing ordeal was over at this point. But before I could congratulate myself, I saw another vertical rock face with a chain bolted on its flat surface. The chain was necessary to help us lift ourselves up and balance as we made our way towards the top where it was mostly granite. Really???
I recall shouting back to my cousin as I clambered up the rocks and held on to the chain for my dear life, “I thought this was a walk in the woods! Nobody mentioned rock-climbing, vertical metal ladders, and chains to me!!! Waaahhh!” I guess they all forgot that I did not have any legitimate hiking experience prior to this expedition. However, there was no other choice. It was the only way to get to the summit.
And this was how I discovered that hiking The Chief is not a joke. It is actually graded as a “difficult” hike, not even an “intermediate” one. What a way for me to get initiated! The trails are steep and rugged and the higher elevations are almost completely rock and granite. The rocks can get very slippery, especially when wet. Moreover, there are gaps and drop-offs along the trails that fall hundreds of feet down below, and the summits have no railings or safety installations.
For someone who does not trust her sense of balance, this was a cause for panic. Just the thought of falling off the face of the cliff and landing on the giant granite boulders in the chasms below gave me the chills. The three main summits of The Chief are separated by several deep clefts called gullies and are partially filled with granite and debris.
I unconsciously stayed very close to my companions when we reached the summit. Despite my unease and anxiety, I must admit that reaching the summit and seeing the wide opening of smooth rocks with an unhampered view of the world below was a valid payoff for all that rough and rugged hiking we did. In the centre were groups of people huddled together for a picnic. I saw a few groups perched in somewhat precarious positions near the edge posing for pictures while waving Canadian flags and “Happy Canada Day” signs.
Our group found a “safe” corner where we could eat our take along sandwiches while enjoying the stunning vista of Howe Sound. The exhilaration of making it to the top, the cool breeze, and the sunny skies relaxed my nerves for a bit.
I later learned about the legend of the Stawamus Chief. In the language of the Squamish peoples, this mountain is called, Siam’ Smanit, which signifies someone who is deeply respected, such as a leader, a role model, a teacher or an elder. It has been loosely translated into “chief.” Stawamus is the name of the village at the foot of this mountain.
It was said that this mountain used to be a longhouse (a style of residential dwelling built by Indigenous peoples that is also used for community meetings) in which all the spirit animals gathered for a huge feast. Xaays, four supernatural brothers who came to this region to give moral teachings and spiritual understanding to the people living here, transformed this longhouse into stone. The spirits were trapped inside. On the rock face today, if you look closely, you can still see the outline of the spirit figures. The Squamish nation considers this mountain to be a place of great spiritual power.
As well, according to the legend, their mythical hero Xwech’taal vanquished a double-headed sea serpent named Sinulhkay that used to roam the Squamish territory and frightened the people of the village with its horrible shrieks. Xwech’taal was tasked to find and defeat it. As the creature fled across the mountains, it seared a trail of defeat into the stone, which today is visible as a deep blackened cleft that runs like a scar up and over the mountain’s face. Xwech’taal pursued the serpent for four years until he was able to slay it, its remains resting in a lake. From its body, he procured a special bone with which he was able to induce trances, among other powers. This victory led him to unite the Squamish peoples into one nation. I have wondered since then why Xaays decided to turn the longhouse into stone and trap the spirit animals. Perhaps, one day, I would find the time to research more about this legend. After all, I do want to go back to The Chief.
After lunch, my hiking companions and I posed for a few group photos and had a few minutes of rest before we decided to call it a day.
Our descent was tough. Essentially, we had to go down following the same route we took to the top. We had to wait for our turn to use the chains as there were more people climbing up. Though the rocks had good traction, I was not wearing proper footwear, so I had to be extra careful with my footing, and for the most part, I had to hold on to one of my hiking companions. We also had to exercise caution as we maneuvered around the tree roots and boulders. Even though going down usually appeared easier than going up, one false step could lead to a severe fall.
My spirits lightened when we reached the creek and the falls. That meant we were close to the wooden stairs, and eventually, the wide trail.
In no time, we were back to where we started. I made it. I survived…or so I thought…
I was exhausted but fine for the rest of the day, but waking up the following morning was another story. I was sore to the very core of my muscles and bones. I could not move an inch without screaming in pain. The last time I felt like this was after my first day of fencing class (yes, I did take it for Physical Education at university and eventually joined the university fencing league).
This was a grim reminder of how very much unfit I was and that perhaps, I should devote time for regular exercise. It was a painful lesson to learn and I suffered for more than a week.
However, the memories of the trek itself and the wonderful reward at the summit made it all worthwhile.
Photo Credits:
britishcolumbia.com, vancouvertrails.com, outdoorvancouver.ca, ourbc.com, hikebiketravel.com, squamishchief.com, warriorpublications.wordpress.com
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