Mollie Adams Diary of her Journey in the Canadian Rockies, August 18, 1908

First Glimpse of Mount Robson, Moore Family Fonds,

Whyte Museum of the Canadian Rockies (V439 / PS - 53)

Grand Forks

Monday Aug. 18.

               Mr. Barra was off before we were up, as he means to make the Cache tonight, a distance of 23 miles in a straight line according to McEvoy. We started at 9 and travelled only 6 hrs. to the Grand Fork. The trail was not so bad as yesterday, although it had quite a few places which would seem queer to the tenderfoot. We were expecting something quite sporty, as McEvoy says “at one place the trail is forced to seek a passage by a narrow foothold scooped out of the face of the crumbling rock overhanging the river”, but the Grand Trunk people must have done some improving along there, for although it certainly is a precipitous rock face, the footing is perfectly good and the trail a foot or more wide. The first glimpse of Robson Peak was quite surprising, to me, although I was looking for it to appear just where it did at any moment, for we were coming around the last shoulder between us and the Grand Fork valley, but it looked so astonishingly near and so glaring white. As we got out where there was a clear view of it, we were getting farther away from it all the time. The others did a lot of snorting and thought it was not much to look at, but I consider it a pretty good mountain, as such. Of course, the surrounding scenery is hideous, compared to the general average near the C.P.R. – rock slab mountains about 9000 ft. high, no snow on them, rather broad valleys with scrubby or burned timber. I hope we can get up near the base of it, where there is supposed to be a lake. We camped about a mile below the mouth of the Grand Fork, on a sort of island. Decided to go on down to the Tete Jaune Cache tomorrow, as it seems a shame to be so near and not see what it is like, we have heard and read so much about it. The first time I ever heard there was such a place was summer before last – we were camped at the West Branch (Sask), Wood Tick Camp, and M. was putting a rather facetious register on a tree, Joe Baker looking on. And he said “you ought to put that we are bound for the Yellowhead Pass and the T John Cache”, and we said “where’s that?” And then I thought I was awfully clever because I guessed what “T John” meant. That is what it is usually called. It was a yellow headed Indian the place is named for, who used to cache his winter’s catch of furs there.

               Quite fine northern lights just before we turned in. I stayed out some time watching them do stunts. Robson Peak showed up his outline well against a low arch, almost a straight stripe at times, of greenish light. There was a much larger arch too, much fainter, which sometimes went up above the North Star, and a pale light all between the two, so the stars looked very feeble through it. And several times two or three streamers shot up from the outer arch.