WHETHER I’M on snowshoes or wearing my hiking boots, I gravitate year-round to one of the most easily accessible subalpine regions in the Sea to Sky corridor in Garibaldi Provincial Park’s southwest corner: Diamond Head, a fortresslike ridge that rises above the Cheakamus River valley. Accompanied by craggy Atwell Peak (Mount Garibaldi’s south tower), Diamond Head makes a bold statement about the height of the mountain range here. As you travel north of Squamish on Highway 99, look straight ahead and up—these two imposing features dwarf all else on the skyline. But you’ll be surprised at how quickly you can get a close look at them.
The well-worn Diamond Head Trail is a testament to the generations of hikers who have made their way into the southwest corner of Garibaldi Park, often under arduous circumstances. Before anyone ever considered building the Sea to Sky Highway, members of the Vancouver Natural History Society caught boats from the city’s inner harbor to the Squamish waterfront. From there, they hired wagons to bring them as close to the ridges below Mount Garibaldi as possible; hikers then continued upwards on foot. Thanks to the society’s persuasive vision, a broad swath of highelevation peaks—from Squamish to Pemberton—was set aside as parkland in the 1920s. Their feat was remarkable because, back then, it took as much persistence as it does now to convince politicians of the need to protect such wild spaces, and that future generations would follow in even greater numbers.
> RED HEATHER AND ELFIN LAKES TRAIL
Access: On foot, allow 75 to 90 minutes to reach Red Heather, 5 km (3.1 mi) from the parking lot. From here, a bypass trail for hikers leads beyond Red Heather and rejoins the road on the ridge above. Allow an additional 90 to 120 minutes to reach Elfin Lakes, 6 km (3.7 mi) beyond Red Heather. Ability Level: Intermediate to expert
An air of profound silence envelops Diamond Head. Few birds sing, no dogs bark. And visitors cross into this zone of tranquility almost as soon as they embark on the old, gently graded road that, in the 1940s heyday of the Diamond Head Lodge, once transported supplies and lodge guests to the Elfin Lakes (see sidebar). BC Parks maintains a winter-only campground plus a day shelter at Red Heather, complete with a wood-burning stove. Believe me, skiers and snowshoers will find this a welcome stop. An elevated outhouse, fronted by a steep staircase, hints at the depth of snow in winter and adds new meaning to the term “throne room.”
Beyond here, all sense of time redefines itself en route to the Elfin Lakes. Much like the altered state induced by stargazing, one’s mind is drawn into another world, where the rhythms of change occur on a vastly amplified scale. Crevasse-lined glaciers that took millennia to form speak of a time frame that eclipses rational thought. But in the here and now, only in fall and winter will you be safe from the “no-see-ums” (small, biting flies); at other times, come prepared to combat them with repellent, long sleeves and pants, and even a mesh-covered hat.
As the trail rises above Red Heather, the forest thins to groves of deceptively small cypress trees. Their height is restricted because the growing period here is shorter than in the valley; snowstorms can occur here as late as June and resume in August. Ring samples indicate that the mature specimens are at least three hundred years old; some are twice that. This qualifies them for membership in the vaunted “ancient” category of forest appellations.
As you near the Elfin Lakes, the trail levels where it reaches Paul Ridge. The well-traveled route climbs up the mountain in rhythm with the contour of the slope. Walking or skiing it is a pleasure. In any season, the closer you get to Diamond Head, the more colors reveal themselves. What appeared at a distance to be dull gray now shows itself as sandy brown, deep auburn, green, yellow, white, and volcanic black. The rippled surface of Diamond Head’s sweeping ridge has been deeply grooved by the retreating glacier that still holds sway on the upper slopes.
The Elfin Lakes appear suddenly as the trail makes its final descent towards the old Diamond Head Lodge. Reduced in size and sagging at the corners, it’s still standing, though given the volumes of snow recorded locally in past winters, it’s a wonder the structure hasn’t fallen in on itself. Sheets of plywood cover the windows. Saggy soffits outline the roof like lipstick applied by a dipsomaniac. Nestled in a meadow beside the twin Elfin Lakes, surrounded by peaks, the old lodge still enjoys one of the most stunning prospects in Garibaldi Park.
A stone’s throw away stands the alpine-gothic Elfin Lodge, a two-story, 33-person shelter with bunk beds and kitchen facilities including propane stoves. The chalet, quite cozy inside, is a favorite nest for skiers and snowshoers on cold winter nights. In reality, the Elfin Lakes are little more than two alpine ponds. One is reserved for drinking water, the other for washing. Several picnic tables sit on the open slope next to a small interpretive display. The history of the region is explained simply on several laminated panels that include historical photos.
Elfin Lakes
In an open meadow below and just past the Elfin Lodge is a spacious, 14-site campground with equally superb views. There are outhouses nearby and all-important food caches as black bears frequent the area. Although the campground does not offer much seclusion, there is plenty of room to spread out. Spend a night here and, immersed in the silence of the surroundings, revel in the view of the Tantalus Range to the west when first lit by the early morning light. At that magic hour, you’d think that the sun was pouring forth lava like primordial plasma, the cosmic soup from which matter evolved.
You can hike for hours beyond Elfin Lakes. But if you don’t feel like venturing too far, at least take 15 minutes to catch a brief glimpse of this continually changing landscape. The fall color here is not just confined to the trees. The ground cover of red heather interwoven with low-lying blueberry bushes is a riot of scarlets. And six shades of yellow, from gold to pumpkin, climb the banks of small gullies to where scree has tumbled down from Mount Garibaldi’s eroding volcanic cone.
> COLUMNAR PEAK
Access: A 2-km (1.2-mi) hike from the Elfin Lakes on a well-marked trail that leads uphill and away from the route to the Opal Cone, a short distance north of the Elfin Lakes campground. Ability Level: Novice to intermediate
You’ll discover majestic views from the top of nearby Columnar Peak. (Columnar is the name given to lava formations. Much of Garibaldi Park’s landscape was shaped by volcanic eruptions at the end of the most recent ice age.) And it doesn’t take long to reach the saddle between several of the spires that constitute the peak. From here you’ll get a close-up look at two particularly gnarly formations on Columnar’s north flank: dubbed “The Gargoyles,” they more than live up to that moniker. In the middle distance, their crumbling facades convey a freakish impression that is almost scary. Up close, they assume cartoonish proportions with glazed expressions, as if they’ve been kiln-fired in hell.
From the top of one of the spires, which barely affords enough space to accommodate small groups, enjoy the unrestricted panorama south to the North Shore peaks and west to Vancouver Island. Closer at hand, Diamond Head’s subtly colored pink ridge links Columnar Peak with a parade of peaks, domes, and ridges that culminates in the lone sentinel of Mount Garibaldi—all it takes to get a closer look at it is more time. When a northern pygmy owl (a very small “earless” owl with a spotted head, frequently heard calling with a mellow “hoo” or seen flying in daytime) alights on top of a nearby subalpine fir, you’ll revel in this unanticipated reward.
> JOANIE GET YER MEN
JOAN MATTHEWS of West Vancouver was a champion slalom skier in the 1930s, who, during the Second World War, mapped out routes in the backcountry north of Squamish. At a ski meet, she met two world-class Norwegian ski jumpers, Ottar and Emil Brandvold, whom she introduced to the Whistler region. After she married Ottar, the three built the Diamond Head Lodge in 1945–46.
The old road used today to reach Elfin Lakes was the approach that brought guests to