Alone in the Mountains
Renowned photographer Michael Overbeck grew up in the Coastal Mountains of British Columbia. After years photographing others’ adventures, He decided to take his camera, pack light and explore his own backyard, the mountain range in Whistler, B.C., on foot. He shares with us his invigorating and inspiring multi-day running adventure.
I’ve always been a runner. Since I was young I competed in track and field and cross-country races. When I wasn’t doing that, I was finding myself exploring the mountains near my home in Whistler, B.C. I began to notice over the years that I constantly wanted to run further and further. When I start running, there’s always a part of me that doesn’t want to stop, no matter how tired I get. Completing a solo multi-day run in the mountains is an idea I’ve always had in my head. There’s something about moving through the landscape alone, with very minimal supplies that has always inspired me. This story is about my first experience with a trip such as this.
After looking over many different routes in the Coast Mountains and the Rockies, I decided to do something at home in Whistler. Starting at the Rubble Creek parking lot, 27 kilometres south of Whistler, and finishing the run at Green Lake which is 6. 4 kilometres north of town. Throughout this, I wanted to spend as much time in the Alpine as possible, which made the trail choices quite easy. The trip began at the Rubble Creek Trailhead and then over to Cheakamus Lake, then across the valley to the Flank Trail, and up onto the Skywalk Trail, where I linked the south end of the trail with the north end to finish off at Screaming Cat Lakes on Cougar Mountain.
On the first day I felt great, excited for what I had ahead of me. Although as I began running, the intimidation of how far I had to go in two days started to consume my mind. To be honest, I had no idea how far I really had to run. I mean I had a rough idea, and I knew where I needed to make it to on the first day, but the total distance was in the range of 85–100k (I think), with at least 5,000 m of elevation gain. Oh, and more than half of the trails I had to run I had never actually been on before, so to say I was going into this underprepared is an understatement. Although, that’s how I planned it. I wanted to have an adventure, and to push myself physically and mentally with a loose itinerary.
After about 14 kilometres and 1,100 m of elevation gain, I was at the base of Panorama Ridge, which was covered entirely in snow. I was on a tight timeline, and I didn’t want to get my shoes completely soaked on the first day so I opted to skip it. But a part of me just couldn’t resist, and so up Panorama Ridge I went. After a long climb to the summit of the ridge, I fell to the ground, and all I could hear was my heart racing. This was my first real break on the run so far, and taking the backpack off felt better than I could have ever imagined. I didn’t plan to stay here for long. I wanted to have something to eat, drink some water and keep on my way. For this trip I packed extremely light, and my main source of food was bars – they taste good, are high in energy and extremely packable. Part of me was really wanting to eat something a bit more wholesome, but part of me was also thankful I wasn’t carrying anything heavy.
Before heading down, I went for a quick run along the ridge, and then made my way down. Since the entire ridge was still completely covered in snow, except for a small portion at the top, I was able to slide down the entire ridge on my feet, which made for completely soaked feet . But I covered 300 m of vertical in what felt like seconds. On my way down through Helm Creek there was more snow than I had expected, so I chose to do some routefinding around it , and link back on to the trail farther down. This was the f irst time on the trip that I had the chance to run downhill for a signif icant dist ance, and let gravit y carr y me instead of having to constantly f ight it . While I was running through the open meadow, a cool breeze came down the valley at my back. It doesn’t get much better when you’ve been cooking in the sun all day.
While I was running down through the forest on my way to Cheakamus Lake, I lost the sun behind the ridge, and right as I made it to Cheakamus River, the sun made a warm return as it popped out of the trees to light up the river. From here, it was completely f lat as I made my way to Function Junction, and on to the Flank Trail. This section was meant to be one of the easiest parts, but after a long day in the heat, and wet feet that had more wrinkles than I thought were possible, my body was hitting its breaking point for the day. I decided that when I found a spot that looks like a good place to hunker down for the night, I’d take it. After another 45 minutes or so, I came across a spot that looked perfect, and I set up my sleeping pad, sleeping bag, put all my layers on, and drank some water and ate a chicken wrap for dinner, with some gummy bears for dessert. Feeling the temperatures dropping, and the clouds rolling in, I knew I was in for a cold night.
The next morning I woke up to a frosty sleeping bag, the cold creeping into my bones. I ate a bar and some beef jerky, sipped some icy-cold water, and packed up in a hurry so I could start moving and warm up my limbs. I had about an hour or two of running before I reached the Skywalk trailhead. The only problem was that I didn’t quite know exactly where it was. Spending the morning on the Flank Trail was a good way to warm up, as it’s a very smooth trail, with very gradual slopes. By the time I found the Skywalk Trail entrance, I felt great, warmed up, and excited to make my way into the alpine for the afternoon. When I started up Skywalk, the forest was incredible. I would stop every 100 m to just look around, and enjoy my surroundings. This made the run take slightly longer, but I just couldn’t help myself. To add to it, this trail had to be one of the most enjoyable runs I have ever been on.
As I made my way out of the dense rain forest and into the alpine, I was blown away. The view behind me was incredible: a 180-degree perspective of the Whistler Valley, and in front of me there were more waterfalls than I could count, with monstrous overhanging walls of ice and snow, and peaks reaching into the clouds. This part of the trail turned into very slow running for me, as I was overwhelmed by my surroundings. At this moment, I realized that this was such a common occurrence. I could not just run through these places with my head down, I had to look up and see the landscape around me. This is one of the fundamental reasons why I love running, and why I feel many others love to run. The amount of incredible places you can explore, over such a short amount of time, all under your own power, is absolutely astonishing.
After a short rest at Iceberg Lake, I made my way around Rainbow Mountain with my mind still consumed by the view I just witnessed. I decided to put my camera away and finish the last leg of the trip with no distractions. After 36 hours it’s moments like these that test your human spirit more than anything else – the sore feet, sun-burnt legs, dehydration and the lack of food in order to travel fast and smooth. I wouldn’t trade the pain for anything else. For me, it’s these landscapes, and these moments of absolute exhaustion, that keep me going. The more I feel, the more I want to push myself through it. The act of physically moving myself through these rugged landscapes, when it seems that everything is going against you – wind, snow, mud, rain and cold temperatures on the best of days – that’s when I feel most alive.