Forks Peak

Summit Elevation (m): 2848
Trip Date: July 26, 2024
Elevation Gain (m): 1200
Round Trip Time (hrs): 6.5
Total Trip Distance (km): 17.5
Quick ‘n Dirty Rating: Class 4 – you fall, you die
Difficulty Notes: Difficult, exposed and loose scrambling on the route I took. I’m not convinced there’s much easier ones.
Technical Rating: SC7-
GPS Track: Gaia
Map: Google Maps

I first read about “Forks Peak” in David P. Jones excellent climber’s guide, Rockies South, on page 190. Now that I’ve done several peaks with ratings by the energetic and well traveled John Martin I have come to realize a few things about him and his ratings and the ratings in Jones’ books in general. First on Martin’s ratings and routes. He ascended Forks Peak via the south ridge on July 2nd, 1984 and rated it “F 3rd”. In 1987 he was back, but this time as part of a grand traverse from Hermione Peak via the Warspite col. He rates this traverse as “F 4th”. There have been several cases where people have focused on words such as “easy” and “F 3rd” or even “F 2nd” and been very surprised to find moderate to difficult scrambling or even low 5th class climbing on the route. Jones summarizes this dilemma in his guide as follows (pg 25).

Early alpinists were remarkably adept at route finding and rock scrambling on exposed blocky alpine terrain; consequently, many early routes originally rated 4th-class might be considered low-5th-class by today’s standards. Never underestimate the capabilities of climbers from previous generations – a route graded 4th-class might easily include short sections with difficulties to 5.4, which they believed to be less than 5th-class. There is no bright-line rating test to differentiate between 3rd-class, 4th-class and low-5th-class difficulty. On routes with few ascents, the grading may simply reflect the opinion of one climber.

This explains a lot of the confusion with the ratings in Jones’ books. Folks have to remember that although Jones has done a remarkable number of the peaks in his guides, most of the routes are from other sources and many from many years ago. Peaks like “Forks” are unofficial and likely have only a handful of ascents and only one person rating them. I remember when I first started following Alan Kane’s routes all over the Rockies. It took 50 or 60 peaks before I came to realize what his “difficult” or “moderate” meant. Now I’m running into the same thing with John Martin. I’ve also run into this with Rick Collier’s ratings. Everyone has their own comfort level and rating style and to make things much more confusing, it can change over time and over conditions for the same person! Someone who hates snow or ice might rate something really hard when in reality it’s a moderate scramble when dry. Many folks around Calgary start scrambling from a hiking background (including myself) and tend to get frustrated by climbers’ ratings of things. People like John and Rick are hardcore alpinists and with all their experience they honestly felt like most unroped ascents were “easy”. If it were “hard” they’d have a rope on! All this to say – beware of any F-3rd or F-4th ratings on remote and rarely ascended peaks. Definitely count on some, “you fall, you die” difficulty notes on explor8ion from such adventures.

As I prepared for the 2nd canoe trip of 2024 and an extended family holiday away from the Rockies I thought I’d better sneak a few peaks into my schedule to tide me over until mid-August. 2024 has been a very slow year for me in the hills for various reasons. Part of me needed a break from the relentless grind of peak bagging that I’ve been engaged in over the last 25 years but part of me also knows that winter is looming and I will have huge regrets if I don’t get out once in a while! It’s all good. Life is life and I am defined by more than just bagging peaks – at least to my friends and family. 😉 After a wonderful (but very windy) outing down south on Hollebeke Mountain the day before, today was all about exploring a peak that has been on my list for a few years now.

At first glance and read, “Forks Peak” seemed relatively straightforward. Named for the meeting place of two rivers to the south (Upper Kananaskis and Three Isle) and the campground that Martin starts his route from, this unofficial summit is positioned in a scenic area of the Rockies. There are many officially named peaks surrounding it, including Lyautey, Putnik, Warspite, Invincible and Indefatigable. Martin’s route is very straightforward – simply ascend north from the Forks Campground to the south ridge and follow it to the summit. He notes that, “The summit block appears to be difficult; however, the route is easy if the ridge crest is followed to the summit”. There it is again – that confusing word, “easy”! He makes another note that caught my eye. He mentions an “overgrown road and trail from the east” which can be used to access treeline. It so happens that I’ve been on this “overgrown road” and it’s not as tangled as Martin might think – at least the section I hiked in 2015 on an ascent of Mount Nomad with Phil Richards.

It had been almost a decade since my last excursion on the old road located at the end of the bikeable section of the GDT / Three Isle Lake trail from the Interlakes parking lot. Despite this, I have seen plenty of follow-up trip reports from folks checking out the scenic lake and diminutive peak tucked into an alpine bowl north of Upper Kananaskis Lake. I figured with all the traffic, the trail must still be open. What I couldn’t know was the condition of the old road after the north exit towards Nomad and the hanging valley. Was there still an “road” here at all, or was it completely buried in thick growth as many old exploration routes now are in the Rockies? There was only one way to find out of course. So that’s exactly what I did. My day started with a bit of a reality shock – fresh snow from an evening rain event could be seen on Mount Putnik from the parking lot. Yikes! It didn’t look like enough to cause issues, thankfully. After passing a few people in the parking lot, I pedalled rapidly up the GDT on a mix of hardpack and loose scree to the bike drop. Very few people bother biking the 4 kms to the drop, but IMHO it’s a no-brainer. Not only does it save time, it’s a fun ride and gives the feet 8 kms of break on the day.

After locking the bike to a tree I made a grandiose rookie mistake. I followed a blaze on a nearby tree up a faint path on the wrong side (north) of Invincible Creek! It took me a few minutes to realize my mistake and then I made another. I stubbornly continued on my route until being forced down steep, slick rocks and scree and over the darn creek to the proper trail. It’s hilarious that after all these years I still can’t follow a GPS track on my f’ing iPhone. What was decidedly unhilarious however, was the soaking wet undergrowth along the ironically extremely overgrown trail I now found myself on. Dang it! I made my 3rd and thankfully last rookie mistake here. Instead of slowing down and donning rain gear, I stubbornly pushed on – frustrated at my own incompetence and confusing start to the trip. In less time than it takes Noah Lyles to run 100 meters I was soaked from head to toe. I don’t mean “wet” – I mean “soaked”. My feet were squishing in my shoes – I might as well have swam across Invincible Creek than rock-hopped it. Remember that snow I’d seen on Putnik? Yeah, it was only 5 degrees, cloudy and wet. I was quickly turning this little adventure into a bit of a flustercuck. I came surprisingly close to turning around but instead I finally slowed down, donned my down jacket and raincoat and continued slowly up the obvious but very closed in trail.

It didn’t take long before I was at the marked junction heading north towards the Nomad hanging valley. A stone arrow pointed 90 degrees to the right and I ignored it. It was here that my day finally turned around and became very much less flustered and very much more enjoyable. (And this is why you push through the low moments – you never know what good ones are just ahead…) In a remarkably unforeseen and unlikely twist, the “overgrown” part of the trail vanished almost immediately after the Nomad turnoff. The road continued marching along but due to elevation or luck the silly willows and shrubs crowding the lower route vanished. My mood climbed along with the trail and I whooped aloud as I grunted up a final steep section and realized I was very close to treeline already. An old pile of stones and some old blazes guided me through a very mild bushwhack to open slopes SE of my objective. I couldn’t believe my good fortune as I followed the rubble slopes up and west to get directly under my planned ascent line. Views back over the Upper Kananaskis Lake were stunning, as were Putnik and Lyautey rising high into a moody sky above.

My day continued to delight as my choices improved dramatically. Rather than gain elevation too quickly, I stuck to my planned route and followed easy sheep trails and firm slab first west and than directly up south slopes to the upper south ridge. As I ascended very quickly on slabby terrain, I noted scree off to my left – a nice option for descent. Views up the valley towards Lawson and Maude Lakes were stunning, as were the views back over towards Lyautey and Putnik. This is a very scenic area of the Rockies and the moody atmosphere only enhanced it.

As I finally topped out on the south ridge I gulped a few times. First, there were the continued stunning views in every direction – including over the tiny Nomad Peak and lake. But more directly and a little unexpected despite Martin’s caution, was the intimidating view of what I only assumed was the summit block of Forks Peak. Holy crap – that was an eye-opener for a fact. Not for the first time this day, I almost turned back on seeing that view. But I’ve done enough scrambling throughout the Rockies to know that you never turn back without getting your nose into things so instead of tucking tail, I started traversing towards the obvious technical crux of my day. (The mental one was far behind me already at this point.) 

The weather was holding, but I was wearing all my extra layers as I hiked and scrambled the south ridge of Forks Peak. My feet were still soaked and I wasn’t warm despite the rapid pace of my ascent. I wasn’t too concerned about hypothermia anymore but I was aware that any additional moisture wouldn’t do me or the ease of the looming crux any good either.

I’d hiked over fresh snow on the ascent slopes but thankfully there wasn’t much left on the ridge ahead. The views over Nomad Peak and Lake were sublime, but the views up the ridge and over the Kananaskis River valley to my left were dramatic and sobering. There were a few SC6 moves along a loose and exposed ridge before I found myself at the summit block.

Martin mentions an “easy” route up the ridge crest to the summit but this should obviously be taken with a giant grain of salt if you’re a wuss hiker / scrambler such as myself. Hardcore climbers wouldn’t bat an eye on this terrain, but as I worked up an ever-steepening and ever-loosening ridge crest I gulped more than a few times. There was a short, difficult section with severe exposure where a slip or the wrong handhold coming off would result in an involuntary Icarus debacle (and ending). Martin is technically correct, however. Despite appearances, the scrambling was never more than SC7 IMHO. I’ve done harder 3rd-class terrain but easier SC7 if that makes any sense – hence my rating of SC7-. A short stroll to the summit provided more stunning views in every direction.

I didn’t linger long atop Forks Peak. I was disappointed to find no register, but not surprised. The small cairn looked like it had been blasted apart by lightning and there was no indication of any recent activity. I’m sure the occasional peakbagger has wandered up here over the years, but other than Martin’s two ascents in 1984 and 1987 I could find no mention of any others. Descending the crux was slightly harder than the ascent – the severe exposure was in my face as I pulled and pushed on loose rock along a knife-edge ridge. To be honest, I loved it. It felt great to be back on airy terrain that nobody else cares about with dramatic views all around me. Part of me regretted the next three weeks that I’d be gone from the mountains despite knowing that they’d be waiting for me on return.

Descent was a pleasure after the crux downclimb. First I traversed the south ridge, views smacking me in the face the entire way. Then it was a fast scree run before looping back along my ascent line, staying high above the trees below until the very last minute. I found another old rock cairn at my exit gully – I have no idea who these could be from? Both cairns I found were very old with moss on the rocks. A very short and easy bushwhack got me back to the exploration road which was much drier than earlier in the day. The bike ride back to the parking lot was fast and furious with many hikers wondering where this crazed bushman with a large knife hanging from his waistband was coming from, on his two-wheel steed. If only they knew, they’d understand even less I think.

Forks Peak had it all in the end. A frustrating start with a soaked trail and fresh snow greeted me. Then an unknown route worked out perfectly, getting me quickly to treeline and the upper south ridge. An intimidating summit was no more than difficult scrambling. Stunning views entertained me almost all day and I got to enjoy a fast bike ride at the end of it all. The best part was the deep solitude that I always seem to enjoy more than expected. This is a highly recommended outing for those looking for obscurity, distinct views and a healthy challenge.