Trip report by Holly Dubnah:
Mackenzie Summit - The Humbling
August 23-24, 2025
At the crack of 9 a.m an instant friendship formed between Chris Neate and Holly and Andrew Dibnah, at the bottom of the Canoe Creek Hydro Dam road. Chris, our fearless leader of the trip (truly), drove from Victoria that very morning, while we had the luxury of staying with family in Port Alberni the night before. Our objective - MacKenzie Peak on Day 1, camp, then attempt Shadowblade or another objective before hiking back out on Day 2. We had everything we needed and more: our 60m rope, Chris’s trad rack, enough food to last for days, and sheer determination… we had everything covered!
It was about 9:30 when I was finished being indecisive about footwear, and we were off - and were treated to a leisurely 3km slog up the switchbacking gravel road towards the Hydro Dam, wherein the road ended and became a narrow, winding trail. This began our real slog up to the MacKenzie range. There were bat ropes to assist us every once in a while through some of the steeper gullies we had to hike up.
The sun exposure was full tilt at this point, and I felt grateful we had the privilege of hiking under the forested canopy; that is, until we broke out of the forest around 13:00 into the wide open rays of the sun. I did my best to keep up a strong pace so we would be able to maximize our time on Day 1.
We stopped to assess Canoe Peak and ponder the ascent route I had done during a successful group trip led by Matt Lettington in May of 2023. What a smooth and memorable trip that was.
It wasn’t long after continuing uphill that the jagged spires of the mighty MacKenzie range made their dramatic appearance behind a small curtain of alpine forest. We stopped here for a snack in the shade, while marvelling at the beauty and terror that the spires presented. From the North they appeared so tall and ominous and unforgiving. We realized why Shadowblade was so appropriately named, and I felt that if we were to climb it, it would likely feel like teetering on the edge of a blade and a shadow.
Redwall peak looked like an inviting but challenging objective, but Chris had already climbed Redwall previously and we were all interested in new objectives on this trip. Andrew and I had set out for MacKenzie peak in June of 2024 via the climbers trail but had decided to turn around at Perez Lookout and wave au revoir to MacKenzie due to how late it had been in the day at that point.
We began our ascent again, and as we started moving upwards through more rocky, talus-y, bouldery terrain, I swigged water from my water bladder and hoped we would be greeted sooner than later by some tarns we were expecting to find on our way to our camp spot. Thankfully we managed to find one ever so slightly past our camp. Our other option would have been to drop down a couple hundred meters from camp to a glacier pond at the base of the MacKenzie Range on the North side. As gorgeous as the glacier pond looked to be, I was glad we didn’t have to make the trek there for our water.
It was around 14:30 that we reached our 5-star camp spot, overlooking Kennedy Lake while also being overlooked by the spires of the Mackenzie range. At this point we had gained 1100~ meters and we were at 1150~ meters. We set up our tents and all took refuge from the sun for a few minutes where we could find sweet, sweet shade. Andrew and I found a little shaded nook under some spindley trees and had a snack-and-snuggle. It didn’t feel like long after finishing some beef jerky that we were on our way to MacKenzie summit, even though it had already been an hour spent at camp in total. Time flew there.
At camp we were about 1 km from the MacKenzie “col” (or notch, as I’ve heard it described) wherein behind lies Shadowblade, Flat Top and the menagerie of additional summits we were pondering on the feasibility of summiting during this trip. Afterall, I thought, MacKenzie will just be a warm-up for tomorrow… it was only 1 km from camp, and the guidebook said it was a bushy 4th class scramble… it would likely just be a slightly spicy hop, skip and a jump, right? Well, let me tell you how I was humbled!
The Humbling began by traversing up and across talus-y terrain and then across a long boulder field that felt more like staggering through a desert. I was working towards smaller objectives on the trek though, like “make it to the next pool of shade, rest momentarily, then repeat.” It felt like 500 degrees but was probably more like 25 Celsius. There was not a cloud in the sky. But there were also no bugs, which we were so grateful for. When Andrew and I had come up to Perez lookout the previous year in June, we were violently swarmed by black flys like nothing I’d ever experienced, and the welts they had left behind on our skin stayed for weeks.
There were only a couple short, snowy patches to traverse across before we trudged up the final steep talus slope and into some perma-shade at the base of our first pitch around 16:30. I needed a couple extra minutes of rest to fight off the delirium exhaustorium. And an Oreo for good luck.
Chris ended up soloing the first 30 meter pitch, which was an incredibly steep gully filled with dirt, loose rock and small shrubs, and it was definitely a testimony to his level of skill, experience and confidence. I found it very challenging when it was my turn to climb it, and I was eternally grateful that Chris gave us a belay from above. The guidebook claims this route is 4th class, which I found interesting, since I’ve climbed crag routes on Vancouver Island that were considered 5.6 - 5.7 class yet they felt substantially easier. Then again, this seemed more like a vertical wall of dirt to me, which was something I didn’t have a lot of practice on.
Andrew was the second to climb the first pitch, and at one point -while standing where I shouldn’t have been- a helmet-sized boulder had become dislodged above and came whizzing down past me. It would’ve knocked me down into Kennedy Lake had it not missed me, since I didn’t have anything solid to hang on to where I was standing. Lesson learned. Exit stage left.
The finale of the first pitch brought us into what felt like a very snug and steep, forested nook, where there were rappel slings already installed on a thick tree trunk. For the second (15~ meter) pitch, Chris led while I belayed him. He set a couple cams, from what I can remember, before setting up another solid anchor from a tree at the top of the pitch. Andrew followed next, then me, and one of my feet slipped while I was trying to stem up a wide, overhanging ledge. It was a good thing I was on belay, and since I only ended up falling a few feet, I bunged up an elbow *just* enough to have a souvenir from the excursion for a couple weeks.
At the top of the second pitch we ended up popping out of the thick forested canopy and onto a tiny flat landing, which required we traverse up a narrow, bushy ledge for a short distance, and cross over a short, airy step to the left of a massive rock face, then into a forested area along the rock face. Chris set up some pro on some thick shrubs as he led the third pitch. We found there was a lot of care and attention required with communication between the lead climber and belayer in this area since the person on lead disappears from sight after the bushy ledge, where it becomes more of a traverse to the left.
Once around the corner of the massive rock face, Chris set up a solid anchor in the crack of a boulder using two cams and a nut. We were all really stoked on the quality of the anchor setup.
We made the final push to the summit rope-less, as the final 15~ meters before the summit itself had us ascending a much more gentle slope which ran parallel with the rock face we had moved to the left of. However, it was home to a sea of remarkably thick cedar shrubs and tree branches that felt as though they were all working in unison to tangle us and grab hold of us while we ducked and weaved and navigated underneath and around and overtop of them.
At last we rounded the final boulder onto the summit around 19:00 and rejoiced in our victory. It was well worth every sun-drenched second-thought, as well as the late-night delirium back at camp. I thanked Chris for helping us get up there. Or at least, I hope I did, in my exhausted state.
We used our vantage point to scout the other adjoining peaks, and Chris captured some great drone photos. I was also so happy Andrew got such an incredible view of the Broken Islands from above, since he had done a week-long group kayaking trip to the Broken Group when he was fourteen!
Eventually we all signed the summit register and bid the summit farewell, about half hour after our arrival.
We returned via the same route we had climbed up, using our rope in the same places as the ascent. We rappelled down the first two pitches, which brought us to the base of the MacKenzie “col” before 21:00. The sun had fallen below the horizon and left us with an electrifying orange glow that radiated behind the silhouettes of distant peaks. Although incredibly beautiful, it didn’t leave us with much light, so we donned our headlamps to descend the talus slopes and boulder fields around Red Wall and back to camp.
By 22:00 we found ourselves at our familiar camp tarn - yay! - and we filled up on water to tote back to camp. Andrew and I enjoyed our gourmet noodle cup meal under the calm, clear, star-filled sky. For years I had dreamed about spending the night in the Mackenzie range and it did not disappoint.
The three of us re-grouped about plans before heading to bed, where Andrew and I immediately opted out of an attempt on another summit the following day. Chris said he felt similarly, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was just saying it to make me feel better. We all agreed that the objective of the day left us feeling incredibly satisfied, and that it felt more difficult than we anticipated. Either way, none of us were stoked on the idea of driving back to Victoria on the same day as doing another challenging objective, all the while hiking out too.
So instead, the following morning we all played around on some of the short rock walls at camp with our climbing gear and Chris taught Andrew and I some valuable climbing techniques. We were so grateful to have such a solid, experienced leader on this trip sharing his knowledge and engaging in it with us. This part was a highlight of the trip for me. Also a highlight was the Teriyaki Sidekick noodles Andrew and I had made for breakfast that morning. So good!
Around noon we decided to start getting ready to head down and we were on the descent before 13:00. Everything on the descent went smooth and it was much, much nicer on the knees to have broken our trip into two days, without having done another big objective on Day 2.
Once we made it to the Hydro Dam, we dipped our feet in the frigid pool for a small break and had a snack before slip-sliding down the final 3km of steep gravel switchbacks, contemplating the experience; the fun, the exhaustion and the lessons learned. It was an absolutely amazing trip and we couldn’t have done it without Chris’s expertise. We’ll be back one day, Shadowblade…
Holly Dibnah