Bowen Hiking 23: September Morn Beach

Jan 1, 2017

The morning's snowstorm turned into a windstorm.  It was still -6°C, but precipitation had stopped.  A Polar Bear Swim was scheduled at Bowen Bay Beach.  There was no way I was going to do that!!  xp  Especially when it meant driving cross-island in a windstorm just to *get* to it.  But it did inspire me to check out September Morn Beach, which was a lot closer to home.

I planned a 4 km round-trip walk from my house, but for the sake of this blog, I'll start in the Village, since many of you would come from there. Note that it is nearly exactly 2 km from the ferry to the beach, along the road.  Although I took Gardner Rd to Dorman Rd to Hummingbird Lane (marked in purple dots), f the weather were better, I could have just as easily taken Dorman Point Trail from Bowfest Beach (dotted maroon line), then turned off the trail at Robinson Rd, and turned left onto Hummingbird Lane. The route I did take took me up about 60m in altitude to the top of Dorman Rd, then downhill along Hummingbird Lane about 40m. Going via the trail would be shorter, but steeper.

(click on image to enlarge)

September Morn Beach was said to be named after the song of the same name by Neil Diamond. However, it seems so much more likely that it was named after the 1911 Chabas painting, since the beach was "clothing optional."  ;)

Ironically enough, the first (and nearly only) piece of early history of the area that I could find was a 1903 Government Gazette of BC, which described how a J. Douglass had applied for a logging licence to "strip" the 480-acre area (Lot 1658) of timber.  (Get it? Strip?... It's ok, insert groan here.)

In the first few decades of the 20th century, the area near the end of what is now Hummingbird Lane had also been the location of the "largest and relatively most productive mine on Bowen Island... the Bowena Mine" (source: BC Rockhounder).  In the last few years of the 19th century, four areas of Bowen Island were explored and developed for mining. Besides Bowena, the other three were the Albion copper mine (near Cates Bay) the Islander copper mine (in Galbraith Bay), and the Bonanza gold, silver, lead, zinc, and copper mine (on Mt Gardner near Bluewater).

(click map to enlarge, or see original at 

https://bcrockhounder.files.wordpress.com/2016/03/bcr-apr-2004.pdf )

The Bowena mine extracted copper/gold ore and silver. Two adits (horizontal tunnels), one 10m and one 70m, and a 10m shaft (vertical tunnel) were dug to explore three veins. One of the veins looked really promising in test shipments, and so a 100-ton-per-day mill was built. Another mining company, the Snug Cove Copper Company, staked a claim nearby, and made a 50m tunnel towards the vein in question. However, low copper prices and inadequate equipment meant low returns for both companies. In 1920, the mine dock was destroyed in a storm, and the mine closed soon thereafter.

In the 1960s, when the neighborhoods of Queen Charlottte Heights and Valhalla were starting to be subdivided, another attempt was made to find profitable ores in the area, but it came up empty. In modern days, although many properties (including our own!) still have underground mineral rights listed on their property titles, "mineral exploration is no longer permitted on Bowen Island."  Thank goodness! We wouldn't want to have to deal with any of THIS...

The Bowena mine adits are purportedly still relatively easy to locate, but difficult to access, due to the steep and treacherous shoreline, and the fact that anything above the tideline is now private property.  As you will see, this was certainly not the day to test that report!  The weather was not at all cooperative.

However, with blue skies above, and the snowfall stopped, I was optimistic for a nice brisk walk. I bundled myself up and set out.  I was offered a ride LIFT on the way to the Village by a random passing car.  That should have been my first sign that I was crazy to be out walking in that weather!

Walking along the shoulder of Dorman Rd away from the Village, I noticed by their hoof-prints that the deer had been walking along the shoulder too!  The white car that had gotten trapped in by the snowploughs was still there, holding vigil over the empty road.

At the first turn of Dorman Rd, a man fought the wind gusts coming down the hill as I headed up, "I've walked it both ways and down is easier!" he called out, with a wink.

I smiled and laughed, turned the corner, and headed up. A small group of people were walking down towards me, with their tiny dog.  The dog looked as scared as my dog Rory was that morning, listening to the howls of some terrible monsters in the skies. 

As we passed, the wind roared again, and branches fell around us. I barely avoided being hit. A huge CRRRRRRAAAAAAACK! signaled a tree falling down in the forest next to the road.  One man in the group and I exchanged raised eyebrows, as if to say, "well, THIS was escalating quickly..."

I pulled some big branches off the road at the curve in the road right before the intersection of Dorman Rd and Hummingbird Lane. The trees were whipping around fantastically, although I couldn't seem to capture that on camera.

The road from there to the intersection was littered with branches, and more rained down the whole time I was walking.  Although all I could see were evergreens, according to Chris Corrigan, "Up on Hummingbird Lane, on the crest of Dorman Point is the remnants of the Dorman family orchard, now divided throughout several private lots." 

I took Hummingbird Lane, which was really just a straight ahead continuation of Dorman Rd. Just past the corner, I could see the ocean roiling through a gap in the trees. Whitecaps abounded. 

On Hummingbird Lane, big branches mixed with small windfalls. Some especially large branches had been already pulled off the road.  The road itself was like a sheet of ice. 

I tried to capture the undulating movements of this grove of bamboo, as it was frothed by the high winds: it was moving almost as if underwater.  But it just looks like I took a blurry overexposed photo. 

In the next stretch, I needed my head down to watch my feet on the ice, and up for falling branches. I alternated, while clutching my toque and reaffirming to myself that this walk wasn't such a great idea...

There were some really nice views of the ocean, along this stretch.  I even got to see a BC Ferry bobbing about in the waves (that's a big class C ferry-- probably the Langdale ferry, the Queen of Surrey. The smaller Bowen ferry sailings were soon all cancelled).

The sky was thick with what seemed like hundreds of birds, careening wildly.  Hah!  You thought was birds but was branches... Bamboozled again!

I started to wonder how much farther it was to the beach.  According to google maps, the road had already ended.  My GPS said that I was in the ocean...  :/  Clearly, neither was correct!

I continued along the road, figuring I had nothing to lose. I kept an eye out for anything resembling a "trail" on the left side of the road. Actually, it was really obvious when I did get there, as there was a cul-de-sac, with a street sign saying "end of public road" on the one side of the circle, and signs for the beach on the other side.

Behind the garbage can, a snow-covered path led steeply towards the water.

Even from that distance, I would see the waves crashing on the beach at high tide. It sure didn't look too safe. I figured I'd follow the path as long as it seemed safe. The trail was not as scary or slippery as it looked. I had firm footing all the way down.  It was surprisingly less slippery than the road!  I guessed that was because it had not been compacted by vehicles.

At the end of the trail, there was a wooden bench at the top of a set of wooden stairs leading down to the beach-level. In the distance, I could could see Wreck Beach-- the clothing optional beach at UBC in Vancouver. Well, maybe the beach itself was too far away to see, but I could see where it should have been located, on the Western-most tip of UBC.

The left side of the beach was protected by a small outcropping of rock. The right side was open to the ocean, and stretched a fair distance.  It would be great at low tide. While the waves were crashing in fast and furious on this frigid winter's day, it was going to be fantastic in the summer!!  Although I suspected that this beach would not have the vendors that made Wreck Beach even more enjoyable. Oh Lucy, what will I do without your empanadas?!?!

I was losing feeling in my fingers as I tried to get my pano function to work properly.  First the distance wasn't right, then the lighting wasn't right. It kept malfunctioning.

Then, in the midst of my struggle, a hot tub beckoned from down below... wait?! what?!   I wondered about the chances of it actually being hooked up in the summer. More likely, it would be used as a "kiddie pool."  I'd have to wait and see.

My phone must have been registering my chilly distress, and smart enough to recognize the dark red hot tub in the viewscreen, because it popped up a notification dated 4 years ago to the day:  a "remember this day" photo collage of my Woodenfish trip to China. How are those related, you ask?  let me explain.

The workshop was "in the south" of China (in Guangzhou), which usually meant tropical temperatures somewhat like Hawaii (20-25ºC), even in winter.  However, it was not clarified that the monastery where we would be staying (the Nanhua Temple) was actually up in the mountains.  And that there would be no central heating inside the classrooms or dorms.

As a result, almost no-one packed appropriately. As temperatures dipped down near zero, we put on every piece of clothing that we brought with us, and sent workshop aides to nearby towns, in search of hot water bottles and extra fleece blankets (donated to the monastery afterwards).  Our workshop organizer looked the other way when we wore our blankets to meditation. Finally, she succumbed to pity, and arranged for a New Year's excursion to the nearby hotsprings. Since none of us had packed bathing suits, we had to purchase these beauties on-site.  XD

My warm memories were certainly not enough to stop my fingers from freezing, so I stuffed my hands back into my ski gloves, and headed back up the path to the cul-de-sac.

Soon I was back on the ultra-icy patch, playing "look-up-look-down" with the ice and flying debris.  The wind was roaring like sea lions or walruses or maybe some kind of sea lion-walrus hybrid... wait:  is that what a Liger actually is?  I might just be in over my head here...   What was I talking about again??

I made my way up Hummingbird Lane back to the intersection with Dorman Rd, and proceeded onto it.

Can you see where I cleared the road before?  No. The wind had already replaced the branches that I had cleared earlier.

The trail running beside Dorman Rd didn't look too bad. I pondered taking that route instead: maybe there would be less wind??  Just then, I head a loud BANG!! Another tree crashed in the forest to my right: a reminder that I would probably have more luck on the road than in the forest, if a tree came down.  I let it go, and stuck to the road.

On the way home from the Village, I got offered another LIFT. Where were these cars on the rest of my walk?!  I declined the offer, because I am some kind of masochist.

At home, the power kept flicking on and off.  Although our area had buried power lines, other areas of the island could easily lose power, if a tree were to fall on the lines. We decided to play it safe, and cook our soup dinner earlier than we had planned, but of course, then we didn't lose power again.  ;p

Thanks for reading.  Here's a "goofy dog" tax.