In a true last-minute decision fueled by either brilliance or forgetfulness, I joined this overnight trip without a crucial piece of gear: my sleeping bag. Yep, left it home. Rookie move. Thankfully, Ben came to the rescue with his emergency blanket, which basically turned me into a human burrito. Spoiler alert: it was just a weeee bit cold that night. Like “why is my face freezing?” cold.
We hit the trail at the 2.5km mark of Birkenhead Lake FSR, hopping onto an old spur road. We drove up about 500m before hitting snow, except, plot twist, the snow had mostly melted, so we got to enjoy the thrill of repeatedly taking our skis off and on like it was a weird winter-themed dance.
The route up to the upper plateau of the ridge was no walk in the park, more like a determined shuffle through what felt like nature’s obstacle course. But hey, adventure is suffering with style, right?
We set up camp at the base of Mount McDonald and tackled the South face for some sweet skiing action. The next morning was a scenic buffet: skiing Algoa Peak, contouring the East side of Mount McDonald just above Foole Creek, crossing two lakes in the West bowl of Birkenhead NW1, then over the NW ridge. We took the West ridge to ascend Algoa Peak, which felt like a legit accomplishment after the previous day’s shenanigans.
Oh, and the North face of Birkenhead Peak? Totally accessible from there, just in case you wanted to add more peaks to your “I survived this trip” trophy shelf.
All in all: no sleeping bag, plenty of cold, and enough skiing to make me question my life choices—in the best possible way.
Birkenhead Peak North Face
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