Thunderbolts and Lightning // Overnighting on Alpaca Peak
- Greg Luesink
- Aug 12, 2024
- 4 min read
Very very frightening! The most terrifying backpacking trip of our lives...
Jas and I were excited to go on our first backpacking trip of the summer. I was excited to show her an area of the Coquihalla that she had never been to, Alpaca Peak. JC and I had run the ridge a few years prior, and it was a good length for a casual backpacking trip. The weather was looking decent with a little clouds and perhaps some rain, so we decided to head out, arriving at Coquihalla Summit Recreation Area around noon.
As we walked up the forest service road towards Zupjok, the sun was shining, and it was slightly overcast and humid. We were excited to spend a night in the mountains, something that we don't tend to do very often.
We reached the top of Zupjok summit after a couple hours, catching our first glimpse of Alpaca Peak to the North. To the West, there were gorgeous clear skies. To the East, ominous rain clouds... We chatted with a hiker on the top and he said the rain clouds had been steadily moving away from our ridge all afternoon.
We decided to continue along the ridge, keeping a close eye on the East for any signs of a shift in weather. The entire way past Llama Peak the wind kept pushing the clouds away. The granite ridge was a hoot to hike along, with gentle rolling ups and downs along the way.
As soon as we arrived at the summit of Alpaca Peak, the wind began to shift. The once distant rain clouds began to billow towards us.
In the distance, we could see flashes of lightning, and the roll of thunder echoed across the sky... getting ever closer.
As we considered our options, we decided that it would likely take too long to get back to the car due to our late start, and it would be worse to get caught in the rain on the rock slabs on the way down. So, I started to set up the tent. Before I had a chance to stake it in, another duo of hikers arrived at the summit and we started chatting.
Greg!! The tent!
As I had looked away for a moment, the tent had gotten blasted by wind and started to roll towards the cliff.
I sprinted over and grabbed the tent before I flew away towards Vicuna.
I staked it down, loaded our packs inside, and we jumped inside as soon as the rain hit the summit of Alpaca. We had cell service, so we quickly googled if it was safer to be inside a tent during a lightning storm... the answer was "no."
As the flashes and booms echoed around us, rain pelted our tent in intermittent torrents. Feeling rather helpless, we decided to abandon our tent and hide-out lower down on the mountain. Finding a small overhang in a notch below the summit, we sook refuge from the elements.
It was just after 6pm that we hid in the shallow cave. Thankfully, we brought our Z-pads for some comfort while sitting down. Our sunglasses came in handy as we got blinded by flashes of lightning. We held hands so that if one of us got struck we'd at least both get electrocuted. Despite wearing every single layer of clothing that we'd packed on our bodies, after about 1.5 hours of rain, hail, wind, thunder, lightning, and everything in between...
We were getting cold. Shivery. Should we make a break for the tent so we could get warm in our sleeping bags? Was it better to get struck by lightning in our tent, or get hypothermia in this stupid cave?
We decided to risk the lightning strike in favour of warmth, so we scurried back to our fabric shelter in between bouts of rain. While we tried to rest, the hue of the tent would turn bright red as the lightning flashes, several times the thunder crashing mere seconds after. The wind rocked our tent and we were pelted by rain. We did feel nervous about a lightning strike, but we were warm and dry!
While I am normally quite skittish when it comes to camping in the mountains (one too many scary bear experiences while camping), I was actually quite at peace knowing that absolutely zero bears would be out and about in this storm. With this thought in mind, I fell asleep to the crackle and boom of thunder, pitter patter of rain, and whoosh of wind.
The Calm After the Storm
Sometime around midnight the storm abated, and we were able to sleep more peacefully until morning. While I slept relatively well, Jas was wide awake while the storm raged. We awoke for sunrise, anxious to get ourselves off the mountain. In the hustle and bustle of storm-prepping and avoiding, we'd skipped dinner in lieu of a quick granola bar. So, before we packed up camp, we decided to enjoy some hot food and enjoy the sunrise. It was at this time that Jas engineered a new way to use a sleeping bag. Please enjoy the video of Jas the Jumping Bean.
We had to admit, the sunrise after the storm was stunning. Not sure that it was entirely worth all of the havoc leading up to it, but we did enjoy the vibrant horizon in the moment.
After a hot breakfast of Happy Yak Pad Thai, we packed up our camp and set off down the slabs of rock. The relief we felt was palpable, and we could not believe the night we'd just had. We enjoyed the spectacular scenery as we trod along the ridge, looking West to the Anderson River Valley, and looking East to Vicuna and Guanaco. Nearly at the car, the heat had increased substantially, so we opted for a dip in a nice stream. At this point, we realized that we'd forgotten to take photos with our film camera! We set up a self timer and had moderate success with a cold dip shot.
Overall, while the trip did not go according to plan, we have an astoundingly dramatic tale to tell from it, so it seems that all of the terror was worth it in the end. Stay home folks! Just kidding, but maybe don't camp on a summit in a thunderstorm...
“Gadzooks” came to mind as I read this. Maybe “GadZeus” is even better…