Channel Peak

After a fun day wandering around Downton Creek (which, by the way, has nothing to do with aristocratic British dramas), we car camped along Duffy Road to explore the lesser-traveled terrain of Channel Creek. Because who doesn’t want to go adventuring in a place that barely exists on maps?

Channel Creek has two prominent peaks you can easily bag from the area, o naturally, we picked Channel Peak, because it sounded the most like a real destination. Also, it had a trail. Sort of.

The logging road started out promising, giving us a false sense of security. But it quickly reminded us of its wild side: bushy, scratchy, and the kind of overgrowth that makes you question your life choices every few meters. Still, the road held up surprisingly well. 

After crossing the creek, we hopped on a faint trail that led to the lake, faint as in “you’d better already know it’s there.” We climbed up to Channel Peak, which stands proud as the highest point on a long ridge between Gott Creek and Blowdown Creek. It’s also directly east of a lovely little lake, though good luck finding it labeled on anything more official than a road sign from 1983.

Apparently, Channel Peak’s "ultimate line parent" is Elusive Peak, a fitting name, considering it feels like you’d need a sherpa, three weeks, and a spiritual awakening to connect the dots around the massive horseshoe at the head of the creek.

Fun facts:

• Channel Creek is a mysterious forked creek that nobody talks about.

• It’s not labeled on BC Basemap or NTS maps.

• Its only known identity is scrawled on a roadside sign, which may or may not have been written in Sharpie.

Despite the lack of signage, recognition, or basic cartographic respect, Channel Peak offered good views, decent terrain, and some top-notch alpine wandering. In conclusion: solid adventure, great crew, and a few more scratches on our shins and egos.