Owl Mountain

Seven years ago I really cared about how many summits I did each year and how many were on my totals list. After Phil Richards and I made what was then a pretty rare ascent of Mount Morrison, we turned our attention to an alternate descent line. This interesting route took us over a ridge and down towards Owl Lake making for a very scenic exit and a loop hike back to our bikes. Instead of simply leaving the ridge nameless, I decided to give it TWO additional names . 🙄 Sorry about that reader — I don’t even remember why I cared so much about such trivial things but there we were and here we are. It is what it is, but I’m here to declare that in hindsight I would at most call our exit line, “Owl Ridge”.

Fast forward to 2025 and perusing Facebook, I came across a trip that Geoff Hardy, Jean-Francois Richy and Andrew Nugara did in early August that peaked my interest. (See what I did there? You love it.) They made a rare ascent of an unofficial summit sitting between Mount Byng and Morrison that they creatively dubbed “Owl Mountain”. I immediately put this summit on my “sooner-than-later” list. It ticked all my favorite boxes for a peak. Unofficial. Remote. Long day trip. Complex terrain. Check, check, check, check. Yeah baby! If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you might be surprised that I was so quickly into trying another long, complex day in the hills. Only 7 days earlier I’d lurched back into the Mount Shark parking lot after an exhausting, semi-traumatic 70 km, 32.5 hour day up the Spray River valley with Wietse.

After a way-too-familiar drive up a dusty Spray Lakes road and bike approach via the Mount Shark Trail, I was off the bike at 07:30 and marching up the also-way-too-familiar Bryant Creek Trail.

It was a beautiful morning and despite feeling a little stiff from a long cycle the day before, I was in a pretty darn good mood.

By 08:00 I was marching through a remarkably busy Big Springs campground and by 08:30 I was on the much less traveled Owl Lake / Marvel Pass Trail.

I remembered some height loss to Bryant Creek before the trail started gaining height to a still distant Owl Lake. It was a typical late August day in the Rockies. Birds were chirping, squirrels were scurrying and marmots were shrieking. There was very little bear sign as I hiked the interesting terrain before the lake.

By 09:30 I found myself at the lakeshore, water lapping gently at my feet as I took in the incredibly tranquil vibes of Owl Lake. I didn’t realize that there is no camping allowed at this peaceful spot — a shame IMHO.

I started slowly hiking along the eastern shores of the lake, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere and feeling a little trepidation at the potential bushwhack ahead.

Geoff mentions an “animal trail (with occasional bushwhacking)” from Owl Lake to the basin between Byng and Owl Mountain. I had his GPS track but I wasn’t sure which line was optimal. Of course I started out by choosing the wrong one.

The bushwhack wasn’t horrible but the ‘whacking immediately climber’s left of the creek emanating from the basin soon became annoying. I decided to try Geoff’s other line and sure enough, I quickly found myself tramping up an obvious trail through light forest well to the east of the stream.

The importance of finding the animal trail cannot be understated. I kept looking for blazes or other human markings, it was that obvious and easy to follow. For at least 95% of it I didn’t have to pay any attention to stick to the track — rare for an animal trail which usually tends to disappear annoyingly fast. Even in thick willows, the trail was obvious underfoot. I was more than a little delighted with the situation and managed to follow it even more closely than Geoff’s team had (they likely found it on descent). Once again it paid off to be the 2nd party up a remote peak — you can learn from the previous one’s mistakes.

The trail not only provided mojo, it sped up the ascent dramatically. It wasn’t even 10:30 as I exited some annoyingly tight willows and started across a swampy basin towards old moraines under Mount Byng’s impressive NE face. The sun shone bright in my lens as I tried taking photos of the route ahead. What a beautiful day this was turning out to be! It felt incredibly remote and quiet as I picked my way up an obvious line on lateral moraines above a rapidly dying glacier hidden under rubble to my right.

After switching moraines and ascending some fun slabs up a sharply angled draw, I took in my first clear views of the complex west face and north ridge of Owl Mountain, still far above me. Hmmm.

I didn’t have Geoff’s trip report with me, but I only remembered some small details from it. One of them was that they’d followed ledges along the upper ridge and another was that they regretted NOT following their ascent route back down. Now, looking at the terrain I was wondering if I’d underestimated the complexities of the route, or if Geoff had sandbagged me. 🙂 Either way, I was about to find out!

I slowly made my way up lower rubble and slabs on the west face, following Geoff’s track and my nose up well placed ledges and easily angled terrain.

My eyes kept shifting off the easy stuff just in front of me to the upper north ridge which looked more complex and more terrifying with each step. Huh. I’ve done enough routes in the hills over the past few decades to know that nothing is as it appears, but still.

This was all starting to look a little more intimidating than I was expecting. I kept at it. At this point I still had no idea where the actual summit was either. I knew it was at the far south end (of course it’s never the close one) but I couldn’t actually pick it out from all the complex terrain.

At the north end of the long summit ridge, I abandoned Geoff’s track for the most part and followed my own nose and the terrain as I saw fit. I referenced the track a few times to validate my choices, but all the cliffs, ledges and complexities made for an unreliable recording at the ground level anyway.

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(The reader should be aware of this for my GPS recording, linked above. There is only so much detail a GPS can record when a few feet in either direction mean a relatively easy ledge versus a manky cliff.)

As I neared the summit, the terrain I was on grew increasingly exposed until I was balancing delicately over knife-edged ridges and along severely exposed and loose ledges just off the crest. I noted that on the most difficult terrain I was slightly off Geoff’s track, joining back with it under the summit. I was having a lot of fun despite the unexpected challenges and wasn’t too concerned about finding my way back. There was one short section I didn’t love the idea of reversing (this time on top of the east face) but there were so many options below the ridge I figured I’d find something that would work better.

Finally, I spotted a tall cairn ahead and picked my way along some more moderate to difficult terrain before topping out.

It had taken me only 5.5 hours to this point, much quicker than the 6.5-7 hours that I was counting on. Summit views were excellent, as expected in this area. It was humbling to spot the peaks that I’d so recently spent a tough night stranded on, but here I was a week later with a giant smile on my face again.

I turned my attention to what promised to be a tricky descent of the north ridge. Geoff states in his brief report that “it would have been much easier to reverse” their approach line than what they ended up taking on return from the summit. He might well be right, but unfortunately his use of the word easy is somewhat misleading. To be clear. Owl Mountain is NOT easy, no matter what line you end up taking, up or down. I am confidently rating it an SC7.

On my way up the mountain I kept wondering why the heck Geoff’s group even bothered with an alternate descent line. As I got closer to the summit and traversed some difficult, exposed and complex terrain I figured out the reason and did the exact same thing myself on return. Standing just off the summit, the ledges and gullies below to the west of the exposed and sharply angled north ridge are extremely tempting to descend. I didn’t want to get quite as low as Geoff’s line on the west face, but I did traverse lower than my ascent track and this ended up working just fine.

Most of the terrain was much less consequential than my ascent line had been and the ledges and pockets on the face felt more protected. Again — this was complex route finding and I kept my head on a swivel, always sussing out the safest lines. Sometimes I had to ascend a bit before descending and for a good part of the slowly descending traverse I was following goat trails and tracks.

It felt good to be on easier terrain at the north end of the ridge and I quickly reversed my route down the west face to the moraines below.

After tip-toeing my way down the moraines I crossed the swampy basin and picked up the animal trail I’d followed on approach.

I was determined to take the trail as much as possible and managed to follow it for 95% of the way back to Owl Lake, elevating this scramble to a highly recommended one.

From Owl Lake it was an easy but familiar and long trudge back to my bike and from there a quick ride to the parking lot.

My round trip time of just 10.5 hours surprised me. I never felt like I was rushing and the excellent animal trail from Owl Lake to the upper basin between Mount Byng and Owl Mountain was a real treat. Another surprise was the complexity of the upper mountain, but this was another mostly pleasant surprise in hindsight. As long as you don’t go expecting a simple, easy route, I think most experienced scramblers who have done many of the named summits nearby will find this one engaging and fun. The overall length and unofficial status should keep the crowds at bay.