Cypress Creek Canyon, Vancouver, Canada, PNW Fest

One last canyon, one last commute. But word on the street is you'd have to be nuts to miss Cypress Creek. Well, we ain't nuts, so we made the last long drive to the land of the Maple Leaf in search of glorious canyon fame. Unfortunately, that means an inconvenient stop at the border, which makes the drive even longer. Ugh. We finally made into Vancouver well after sunset. And now, where to camp? There isn't exactly good camping around here. So we headed farther north. We stopped and asked for advice. Porteau Cove was the closest, something like 30 minutes up the road. Good enough, we'll take it. We pulled in around 11:00 pm after I missed about a dozen turns. The rockstars weren't working anymore. But finally, we found some camping. Hmm, what would you know, the campground is jam packed, not a space to be found. We make a few laps and analyze the situation. After bartering with a few of the other campers, we secure a couple of walk in sites. And by walk in, they mean just that. You have to walk to get to them. Unfortunately, the night we have to walk to our campsite, we got our first taste of the dreaded PNW weather patterns, and it started to rain. I ended up sleeping in my car in the parking lot, while the rest braved the storm in tents.

After a long night, the weary crew made the trip back down to Vancouver. We were planning to meet the legendary Ziff, and his equally legendary buddy, Matt, at the trailhead around 9. Donna McMackin and Mike Cutliff were also going to join us for the day, so it looked like a good sized group. We wasted no time taking over the parking lot prepping our gear.

Cypress Creek is literally located in the heart of a city. Seriously. You pull up into a little park in the suburbs, with moderately sized houses all around, and a few public tennis courts down the hill. A nicely worn trail dips off into the woods, where the sound of rushing water beckons the canyoneer. Or the morning jogger.

The scene must be puzzling for the locals, out for their morning exercise. Pulling into the parking lot, they find cars from all over. Washington, Utah, and Vancouver. Neoprene, ropes, and harnesses are chaotically spread out across the parking stalls. And then a bunch of half naked people just chilling on their portable chairs. No doubt, the locals were curious. And the reply was inevitably "You guys are doing what?"

But don't be fooled by the neighborhood, this canyon is still impressive. The river pours through the suburban park, and down a nice sized gorge, with the goodies being a mile or two long. A grab bag of canyoneering obstacles awaits.

Porteau Cove at sunrise. Our place to camp for the night. That is, if you call it camping.

Steven on the first rappel.

Newcomer to the group, Donna McMackin joined us for the day.

Steve, back in typical form. Crooked helmet, and teeth back in place. Still poses well though…

Matt, getting a taste of his first technical canyon. Roger with the watchful eye…

Mike making easy work of the 2nd rappel.

Me Tarzan. Me want Jane.

Matt getting sprinkled on the third rappel.

The sprinkle gets a little bigger…

Ziff ain’t bashful about getting a little wet.

Ziff, heading into the rooster tail. The best rap of the week, no question.

After a casual series of raps and swims, the real gem of the canyon comes into play. A 70 foot rappel down a raging waterfall, anchored right off a viewing platform where the public can enjoy the scene. The walls shut down tight, constricting all the water through a narrow pour off, that sends a rooster tail spitting out 20 feet from the wall. As you rappel down, the force of the water gets stronger and stronger. It tops out the scale as a definite head-pounder.

Ziff, entering the punisher.

Farther down.

Matt takes a face shot. C’mon man, look up! It’s good for the pics!

Boo! I said look up, not down you wuss.

Matt, an able kayaker, ain’t never seen this kinda white water.

Finally, he looked up. Nice work Matt.

And down he goes.

A good look at the rooster tail, Tom and Ziff at the bottom, Matt on the ropes.

Matt again. Thanks for looking up for the photographer. Just killer.

Jane taking her turn in the skull-buster.

As we were enjoying the last rappel of the canyon, the group slowly noticed that everyone wasn't there... Bob, Mike, and Donna had slipped off behind us, and weren't catching up. Come to find out later, Donna had broken her ankle when she slipped on a boulder. Mike and Bob were busy setting up a hauling system to get her out of the canyon. Blast, not a good way to end the canyon.

What's more, it's prudent to rig a retrievable anchor on this rappel so that there is nothing left behind for the ill-prepared public to stumble on. Well, we decided we would rig a "run around" anchor. That is, the kind where you set up the rappel, and after we finish the canyon, Steve runs back around and cleans it. Well, for some reason, I thought that meant you don't actually pull the rope, but you just get it later. After I made it to the bottom, I learned that isn't what that means. Note to self, don't leave ropes behind, especially in swift waterfalls.

Mama Arhart on the climax of the trip.

Steven, enjoying the last jump of the week.

The ankle. Donna, hope the recovery is quick.

Well, it was clear that the group dynamics were breaking down. We had been driving all week, sleeping in parking lots, and hanging out in the rankest smelling neoprene imaginable, and now we were forgetting to pull our ropes. Add that to the fact Donna broke her ankle, and we were at least 16 hours driving from home, and we decided the karma was stacking up against us. Luckily, Bob and Mike were able to get Donna up and out of the canyons. The rest of the group went up to assist in getting her back to the cars. It wasn't exactly the picture perfect ending to the trip. As we all licked our wounds in the parking lot, it was obvious the games were over. Donna was on her way to the hospital in Washington, and it looked like the rest of the groups were ready to head home.

And thus Pacific Northwest Fest came to an abrupt end.

Well almost. We still had that drive home...