AWC Day 2

Day 2:  The Tsusena

Art at "Woods camp"

      The anticipation of walking over the next mountain pass to discover a new valley is the stuff of Christmas morning. Although I had scouted this valley extensively from the comforts of my living room with coffee and laptop (Google Earth,) the reality of discovering it on foot pales in comparison. Most notably, the scale of how big these valleys, mountains and rivers is really hard to gauge from home.  
      The low angle pass was an easy ridge walk along meandering benches.  The caribou trails we were on could have been single track mountain bike trails.  There was a small lake at the pass with four harlequin ducks swimming, diving, and carrying-on.  We stopped for lunch and watched the ducks do their thing. 
     “Hey Artie, try some of this.”  I handed him some moose jerky that I had made for the trip.  It was a recipe I got from my buddy Bryan.  We shared food everyday; the variety was nice.
     We made our way down and out of the pass into the headwaters of Tsusena Creek. We had hoped to be able to packraft some of it and take-out before Tsusena Butte eleven miles downstream.  Below the Butte is a 120 foot water fall.  Roman Dial and Forrest McCarthy, a couple of pros by anyone’s standards floated it several years ago and classified the Tsusena as sustained class 2+ with sections of class 3 with some “spicy” sections.  As we made our way along the Tsusena it was easy to see that we would not be pack rafting unless it settled down considerably.  Long wave trains of five foot waves took turns with a few holes and haystacks sprinkled in for fun. 
     On our rookie application we declared that we were both comfortable with class 3 whitewater but unwilling to take unnecessary chances in such a remote setting. We brought drysuits but did not bring life jackets or helmets.   All sections that we saw were within our capabilities and looked like fun but we both agreed that it would be prudent to hike out.  
      After one particularly harrowing stream crossing, we made our way down to the valley below.  From here we would work our way on-top-of and around some high knobs, picking our way through the brush to areas of better hiking.  We found several moose sheds in this area including a full set from a large mid 50’s inch bull.  We checked in on the Tsusena several more times and agreed that we made the right decision.  
     The bushwhacking was getting real at this point and I wondered if it were indicative of what was to come lower in the valley.  I found a game trail that ran along the bottom of the last knob and as we followed it the trail got better and better.  Soon the trail swung towards the river and for three solid miles we walked on the most beautiful game trail that I’ve ever seen.  We tried not to jinx ourselves by talking about it too much, but I couldn’t help it.  “This is like a trail in a National Park!”  The path meandered through a healthy spruce forest along the clear and fast Tsusena.  It was a beautiful sunny day and the hiking was excellent.  
       All good thing must come to an end and sure enough our dream trail eventually led us into what we would come-to-know-as the bog of eternal despair.  At one point after sloshing through beaver choked lowlands we encountered a rather lively stream rushing before us.  The water was thigh deep and the volume and speed of it combined with the fact the the bowling bowl sized boulders were slimy. The banks were packed with gnarly bushes and it was the first time that we found ourselves fording a stream and bushwacking at the same time.  
     Finally we made it to higher ground but it was slow going again.  We followed a game trail to the top of a hill.  “Whoa, look at this.”  The entire hilltop was ripped apart and littered with bones.  It was as if a bulldozer had worked over the area.  I had seen this before and knew that it was where a bear buried a moose carcass.  Art took the jaw and jabbed it into the dirt straight up-and-down to serve as a marker.  We were ahead of at least 2 people at this point and anyone passing this spot would surely notice it.  It was our little way of saying Hi.
      We zigzagged our way down the valley searching for game trails for another hour or so before calling it a day.  It was another 11 hour day of hiking and we were tired.  Our camp wasn’t ideal but we made it as homey as we could.  This would be what we would call our “Woods Camp.”