Climbers put Squamish on the map—and more than a few magazine covers—as the town began to quietly cement its reputation in outdoor recreation circles. And success bred success. In the 1970s, when the upstart sport of windsurfing took off, a new kind of tourist blew into town. There may not be much surf where the Squamish River meets Howe Sound along the town’s western perimeter, but this confluence is one of the most challenging and easily accessible stretches of water for windsurfers on the West Coast. Predictable winds fan the shoreline. Thanks to these strong blasts, kiteboarding is the latest extreme sport to hit Squamish.
Another technologically innovative piece of sports equipment, the mountain bike, arrived on the scene in the 1980s. The trailbuilding efforts of volunteer groups such as the Squamish Off-Road Cycling Association (www.sorca.com) and the Squamish Trails Society (www.squamishtrails.ca) ensure that new routes appear each year. At last count there were 122.
Roll all these activities together, and you can see why past decades have seen scores of fresh-air enthusiasts leave their footprints— and fingerprints—in and around Squamish. It’s one of my favorite year-round destinations, with a sea-level location that guarantees its low-elevation trails remain snow-free most of the year. The Test of Metal (www.testofmetal.com) endurance mountain bike race in June, softball tournaments in July, and Squamish Days Loggers’ Sports (www.squamishdays.org) on the first weekend in August draw crowds throughout the warm-weather months. Just as numerous are the birdwatchers who gather in January for the annual eagle count or to stroll the estuary dike trails with binoculars in hand looking for trumpeter swans.
It’s important to note that Highway 99 isn’t the town’s main street. That honor more properly belongs to Cleveland Avenue. Not that you’d know it. Any sense of the historic downtown core is all but shuttered from view, thanks to a strip of fast-food franchises that line the west side of Highway 99, which the late Squamish pioneer Rose Tatlow labeled “Hamburger Row.” Tatlow, who was named honorary senator by the municipal council in recognition of her lifelong service to the community, lived on the shore of the Mamquam Blind Channel directly across from Cleveland’s intersection with Highway 99. Little evidence of her modest residence remains other than several fragrant honeysuckle vines. Instead, leafy Rose Park (see page 20) offers a tranquil resting place from which to contemplate the placid surroundings. While Tatlow, who died in 1998, might have condemned town planners for allowing the likes of Taco Bell to dominate the landscape, I’m certain she would have been tickled to have the architecturally pleasing Squamish Adventure Centre as her neighbor.
With the opening of the Whistler Olympic/Paralympic Park, Squamish has also begun to position itself as a snowshoeing and Nordic skiing destination. Aside from the well-known trails at Diamond Head in Garibaldi Park (see chapter 2), local businesses are promoting the 2010 Olympic cross-country skiing facilities in the Callaghan Valley (see chapter 9), which are just a 30 -minute drive north. Squamish presents another choice besides Whistler for people looking for affordability, right in the middle of the action.
> SHANNON FALLS PROVINCIAL PARK
Access: Entrance to the park is well marked, at the traffic lights on the east side of Highway 99, south of the Stawamus Chief roadside pullout.
There is a fine viewpoint at the Squamish lower town limits, 1.6 km (1 mi) south of Shannon Falls on the west side of Highway 99. This is just above the spot where British naval captain George Vancouver and his crew camped while surveying Howe Sound in 1792. The Garibaldi viewpoint marks the approach to a remarkable series of geographical formations, including the eye-catching granite Stawamus Chief Mountain and B.C.’s third-highest waterfall—Shannon Falls, linked to the Chief by a 2.5-km-long (1.5-mi) trail. The white veil of water drops 335 m (1099 ft) from an easily spotted ridge above Highway 99 to a creekbed below that empties into nearby Howe Sound. In the late 1800s, the falls drove a wooden waterwheel to provide energy to a nearby sawmill. In the 1970s, their pure water was used to brew beer. These days the falls deliver mental refreshment to those seeking a soothing getaway from life’s hectic pace.
Shannon Falls is a tourist magnet during summer months, with a parking lot that’s usually full by noon on weekends May through September. A fee of $3 per vehicle per day is charged year-round, or $1 per hour if you’re just stopping by for a quick look. Two large picnic areas accommodate families and groups who like room to stretch out and play while barbecuing. The falls maintain a constant roar while the nearby Chief’s south face looms on high; many visitors understandably take advantage of this striking backdrop for photographs.
It takes only a few minutes to walk up to the falls from the parking lot. A well-built system of smooth trails, wooden staircases, and bridges leads to two viewing platforms near the base of the falls. On a hot day, the combination of mist from the falls and shade from some impressive large trees provides the perfect tonic, especially if you climb the stairs leading off to the left just before the main viewing spot to a higher vantage point at the base of the falls where fewer visitors venture. A breeze stirred by tons of falling water whips the mist into billowing clouds, making this an ideal place to get a natural facial. I particularly enjoy visiting here in fall when leaves on broadleaf and vine maple trees display vibrant colors.
To combine a visit to the falls with a walk to the Stawamus Chief, take the well-marked trail that leads 2.5 km (1.5 mi) north from the parking lot along the base of Goat Ridge. It crosses a small bridge at Oleson Creek that links with the Chief’s primary hiking route.
SLITHERIN’ SAY-NOTH-KA First Nations mythology tells of a two-headed sea serpent whose expeditions wore the spillway for Shannon Creek. Indeed, the falls’ rock face does look like snakeskin.
> STAWAMUS CHIEF MOUNTAIN
Access: The main entrance to Stawamus Chief Provincial Park, along with nearby climbers’ access parking lot, lies on the east side of Highway 99 south of the Mamquam Forest Service Road intersection. Ability Level: Strenuous
The Stawamus Chief is the sentinel of the Squamish Valley. As you journey north on the Sea to Sky Highway from Vancouver, the sight of this 702-m (2303-ft) granite monolith comes as a relief, the signal that the highway’s sinuous twists and turns lie behind now. To appreciate its majesty, pull over for a good look from the provincial park’s roadside viewpoint on Highway 99.
To the trained eye, the mountain’s smooth-faced apron of blue-gray rock reveals dozens of vertical routes to ledges from which to take in the bigger picture. The action in the parking lot below, where climbers spread out their ropes and pitons, carabiners and camming tools, daisies and aiders, belay and rappel devices, harnesses and chalk bags and all-important gear slings, is evidence of the amount of equipment and serious preparation required to make even a basic climb of the Chief’s west face. (Information on climbing routes on the Chief and other climbs in the Squamish region can be gleaned from Kevin McLane’s The Climbers Guide to Squamish.)
From the Base: One of the easiest routes at the base of the Chief begins at the well-marked climbers’ access parking lot beside Highway 99 just north of the Chief’s more prominent viewing zone. Follow the welcoming Apron Trail that leads a short distance uphill through the forest and connects