A Matter of Perspective

• Posted on May 13, 2009 at 7:08 PM
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the view from the Petgill trail overlooking Howe Sound

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There are those who feel a wilderness adventure is a practice in deprivation. With no TV, no couch, no refrigerator standing by, it’s easy to see it that way. Less obvious though, is what can be gained when these comforts are left behind. In the backcountry, serenity and simplicity replace stress and schedule. If only just for one night, Melinda, my wife, and I are headed out of town; into the wilderness, for a change of perspective.

Vehicles whip past the trailhead sign, just off highway 99. We are headed to Murrin Park's across-the-street neighbour, the tiny alpine Petgill Lake. Five kilometres and 700m in elevation gain stand between us and the lake. Right from the start, the trail kicks up and ascends the roadside bluffs. Salal and devil's club line the trail to start. Orange diamonds marking the trail then lead us into a mature forest. As we ascend, signs mark a number of viewpoints and we stop to rest with a unique view of Howe Sound, Squamish and the Chief all in front of us.

A reminder of the past, the trail connects with an old logging road for a kilometre. The old road is mundane but makes for easy hiking. The road dead-ends and returns to trail below a steep ridge. Our eyes follow the path and connect the orange diamonds up the ridge. One step at a time, we climb. The top of the ridge however, reveals no lake. Furthermore, the trail unapologetically descends the backside, towards the next valley and ridge. This exhausting pattern repeats itself a number of times before we finally discover a "To Petgill Lake" trail sign. Moments later, the lake's shimmering surface is visible between the trees and we descend the cliffs that surround it.

Petgill Lake is a small mountain lake. Not much bigger than two soccer fields by my guess.
There’s barely enough room for one tent at the small lakeside clearing. Still, we greet it like a luxury resort after our strenuous approach. Soon, we have our tent pitched and dinner cooking. In the last light of evening, we brew a hot tea. Headlamps on, we follow a side trail to an incredible lookout with a Squamish view. Streetlights and stars glow on our natural big screen.

A woodpecker is our alarm clock. 30 minutes later, the whoop from a grouse acts as our snooze. We crawl out of our tent into the cold morning air. Instant oatmeal fuels our descent. A robin leads us down a corridor of trail for nearly a kilometre as she lands then takes off again from nearby branches. We scramble down the roadside bluffs and while hectic highway traffic zooms past, we stop for a trailhead photo.

On the surface, a backcountry outing can seem like deprivation. But those who explore often find the opposite to be true. Senses heighten and priorities realign in the wilderness, meaning adventurers often return more full from their treks. It’s all a matter of perspective.