The Route
Experienced Guides Guide Us Up Crumbly Mount Dickson
My First (Likely) First Ascent
This past June, my sister, Tania, brother, Erik, and an old friend we hadn’t seen in 10 years, Julian, made the first ascent of the East Pillar of Mount Dickson with the help of our two guides, Connie Amelunxen and Crosby Johnston. Bad weather had compromised our plans to climb in the Tantalus Range, and our plan B was to climb somewhere around Squamish. Thankfully, we were forced to go for plan C: chasing clear weather up north all the way to the Dickson Peak area using the Roxy Creek Mining cabin, near Gold Bridge, B.C.
Amelunxen had done risk assessment for a new mining company in the area and knew the access road was bulldozed. That meant we had the luxury of car-camping within decent proximity to the alpine. We arrived at 4 p.m. and set up camp. We then set off on a recon hike, still undecided as to which route to take, since we had so many choices, such as Penrose N1, Mount Mistaken, Dickson SW2 and Dickson Peak. Amelunxen pointed out the East Pillar of Dickson, stating casually, “Don’t think anyone has climbed that before, you want to give it a try?”
Being new to mountaineering, the idea of a first ascent seemed out of my reach, like an expedition in the Himalayas or a new V12 boulder. You always imagine first ascents take years of training, research and hours on Google Earth, so I was a little surprised that we were four hours away from Squamish, staring at an unclimbed tower.
Returning to the camp after the hike, we studied photos trying to pick a line up the tower. We headed to bed early for our 5 a.m. departure. In the morning, we made good time climbing to the bowl of Dickson then traversing south to the foot of the East Pillar, but with route-finding and loose rocks we roped up and things started slowing down. It was like climbing a game of Jenga. Almost every stone you went to pull on came loose. We spilt into two groups of three. Erik, Julian and Johnson led, leaving me, Tania and Amelunxen to wait in a safe place, avoiding falling rocks. Even when you’re being cautious, things can still happen.
Amelunxen was belaying from above and yelled, “Rock!” Tania had no purchase for
her feet and no time to react. A rock about the size of a cigarette pack, got Tania in the hand from a few metres above. It didn’t do too much damage, but Amelunxen bandaged it up.
Johnson’s team was still climbing above us, unaware that we had just stopped. They yelled for our location, and we answered back, but with the echo it sounded like we were further off to the side. Crosby cried out a warning for rocks. As we looked up, five lager stones were spinning down on us. We hid as best as we could. The seriousness of climbing started sinking in. For Amelunxen and Johnson, it seemed like business as usual, showing their years of experience, but as for Tania and I, we were nervous. Tania’s leg was keeping the beat of a thrash metal song with 280 beats per minute. Once we started climbing again, we were back in good order.
We regrouped with the other rope party at the foot of the first step of the tower, a short 15-foot 5.3. Then we had the last obstacle the crux of the climb: a 15-metre slab with an overhang top-out that you could climb around with a 5.6 move. It was a little tricky in alpine boots. To Johnson’s surprise, Amelunxen asked him to lead. Once up top, I yelled to Johnson, “Is that the summit?” He replied, “No.”
I had forgotten the tower was shaped like a twopronged pitchfork. We still had a down-climb to do, with a ridge traverse, to make the true summit. Making our way to the top of the summit at 1:49 p.m., with the wind blowing, there wasn’t even enough room for the group photo. Amelunxen was actually standing on a ledge to the side. On the summit we did not find a cairn, so we built one. Then. Johnson and Amelunxen started planning our descent. Option A was to rappel off the tower, then summit Dickson Peak with an easy threeand-a-half-hour decent on the south ridge. Amelunxen was lowered down to scope it out. He came back up saying it didn’t feel safe. The east face looked like a hanging house of cards ready to crumble.
Option B was to go back the way we came. That way down was much longer and would involve two rappels, two lowers, down-climbing on more loose rocks and a snow slope. At that point it seemed like the only option. On the duration of the climb, we didn’t see any signs of previous climbers, there was no gear left behind from rappels, pitons, nuts or cams. The stones that we cleaned off would have been obvious handholds. First ascent or not, it was a great climb that pushed our limits of what we thought we could climb. It was also an amazing learning experience. I have done some internet research and found no East Tower claims, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been climbed.
Johnson and Amelunxen were amazing as guides. They were like old detective partners finding clues in the mountain that would solve the way up and the whole time keeping us safe. We finally made it to the meadow at that point. I took out a flask filled with Buffalo Trace, took a drink, looked back on what we had climbed and with the relief of no more falling rocks or precarious ledges. We just had the last challenge left: making risotto for dinner.