Devil's Head

Devil’s Head – August 18, 2007

Mountain height:           2802 m
Total elevation gain:     1200 m
Ascent time:                  6:25
Descent time:                4:55

Scrambling (almost) with Mark and Raff.

An ascent of Devil’s Head is like scrambling on a different planet. The scenery was unlike anything we’ve seen and the actual scrambling, far more enjoyable than expected. Armed with an excellent route description from Bob Parr, we started heading west along the valley south of the objective. Three very chilly crossings of the Ghost River ensued. With water-resistant boots and gaiters, Mark was able to run across the river each time and remain completely dry. Raff and I wore approach shoes. Raff strolled across the river and was still smiling at the other side. I ran across and was whimpering like a baby after each crossing – I hate river crossings!

We then worked our way onto the ridge southeast of Devil’s Head and started towards the peak. Gaining the first highpoint granted us our first good look at the Head and what an impressive Head it was, the summit seemingly guarded by impregnable walls on all sides. From afar there appeared to be a few interesting rock formations that we would pass by on the way there. “Interesting rock formations” would be as big an understatement as you could imagine. This section of the trip was riddled with weird hoodoo-like forms, small caves, and cool pinnacles. As stated, it was like being on a different planet – or at least some other place on earth where they have hoodoo-like forms, small caves, and cool pinnacles! Had the objective of the trip not been the summit of Devil’s Head, we could have easily spent the rest of the day exploring this astonishing area.

Dragging ourselves away from this unique landscape, we hiked up to the impressive base of the Devil’s Head and then west to the gully that Bob describes. To our surprise, two sets of hiking poles sat at the bottom of the gully, indicating that at least two other people were doing the ascent. Ascending the gully was fun. It was quite narrow with very loose scree and rubble in the middle. This forced us (and anyone else doing the ascent) to ascend the gully by either straddling it or scrambling up solid rock on either side. Going straight up the middle would simply have unleashed a torrent of rock onto anyone below you and so wasn’t an option.

While in the gully I suddenly heard a deep James Earl Jones-like voice say, “Nugaaaaaaaa……..ra.” The voice was immediately recognizable as that of all-around mountain extraordinaire Jason Wilcox. He and his friend Jessica were on their way down after a successful ascent. It seemed coincidentally nostalgic that me, Mark, Raff, and Jason were all on the same mountain again exactly one year to the day of our semi-epic Kitchener ascent. All we needed was Kevin Barton and a huge notch to complete the picture. Kevin’s company would have been nice, but I think we’re all glad that our ascent route avoided anything that even resembled a notch. Jason and Jessica, who had set up camp in the valley, promised to have a beer waiting for us when we finished the trip.

The remainder of the scrambling was also very enjoyable, the route-finding easy thanks to Bob’s description and a string of well-placed cairns , and the scenery on the mountain stunning. The crux was very short was not terribly difficult, though the rappel chain at the top was a welcome sight. Other than that step, the entire ascent was mostly moderate scrambling with a few difficult moves.

We reached the summit in great spirits and surprisingly good weather. The summit panorama included a vast array of beautiful unnamed peaks to the north and west, as well as Costigan, Aylmer , and Black Rock. The descent was straightforward, all of us taking special care not to knock any rocks down. Mark was actually able to downclimb the crux, although I insisted on putting him on belay just in case. Raff and I took the easy road and rappelled the short step.

By the time we reached the bottom of gully, threatening weather was moving in. We were almost down to the valley when a violent thunderstorm rolled in, pelting us with good-sized hail. Good thing we all still had our helmets on. Given that we were already soaked from rainwater by the time we reached the Ghost River , the crossings were far less disagreeable than in the morning. Arriving at their campsite, Jessica and Jason greeted us with a hearty fire, a Stella Artois each, and some friendly conversation with a few laughs (mostly at Kevin Barton’s expense! Just kidding Kev, buddy).

Well-rested and energized by the smooth flavour of Stella, we finished what I would classify is one of the best trips of the summer and one of my favourite scrambles of all time. A big thanks to Bob for his excellent route description and to Jessica and Jason for their hospitality.