The entirety of the limestone in and around the Marble Meadows area - and in fact, all limestone everywhere - is composed of the countless bodies of dead marine mammals. Their remains are primarily composed of the compound calcium carbonate - CaCO3 - and these remains precipitate out of the water column and settle on the bottom. Over countless years, these remains thicken, and thicken, and thicken - until there are perhaps thousands of feet of calcium carbonate. If this layer is then buried and compressed, it turns into the rock we know as limestone. And if conditions are right, the forms of these dead marine mammals are fossilized and visible in the rock.
Climbing through seafloor
Although we could have looked for fossils anywhere in the limestone, we had decided to not look in earnest until we had reached the far western reaches of Marble Meadows, where we were now. I had heard from various descriptions that this was the best place (or at least, perhaps the easiest place) to do our fossil hunting.
Continuing after our lunchbreak, we soon climbed up through the section that I believe was cited in the description(s) - an extensive side-sloping area of brilliant white rock, nearly devoid of trees. The herdpath wound through the west-sloping beds of this rock, marked only with cairns, for there was only the very faintest bit of a boot path to be seen here, and then only intermittently.
courtesy JInnes
We soon began to spot curious little forms in the rock - in fact, countless thousands of them. Mostly they were fossils of crinoids - a type of marine animal that has a tube-like stem and feathery arms, and which filters food particles from the water. We moved very slowly through here, taking time to explore nooks and crannies, looking for fossils.
courtesy JInnes
We soon came to the "heart" of this particular zone, where we could see virtually nothing other than outcrops of the brilliant white rock (which, by the way, is known as the Buttle Lake Limestone - from the Permian period, 250 to 300 million years old). It was no longer hard to spot fossils - they were literally everywhere, on virtually every square centimetre of rock we looked at. This wasn't too surprising when one considers that pretty much the entire mass of the rock we were standing on is composed of dead critters.
Crinoid Stem
The fossils we most recognized were of crinoids, mostly their stems, but there were also other types of organisms present : brachiopods, bivalves, and bryzoans. However, we weren't disciplined or knowledgeable enough to properly identify them. No matter - the range and breadth of crinoid bits were more than cool enough. The forms and textures preserved were simply amazing - features down to the sub-millimetre level, clearly visible.
Climbing out of the limestone
Our pace through the fossil-hunting section was much reduced, but eventually we made our way through it, climbing up to a contact point where the overlying strata - an orange-ish mudstone or something - took over. From here it was a loose perhaps 300-foot (100m) climb up scree to the crest of the McBride-Morrison ridgeline.
Upon arriving at the ridgecrest, an expansive panorama of Strathcona Provincial Park unfolded before us. Views to the west had been - up to this point - almost entirely blocked from view. Now, however, we were able to look out in that direction. The most dramatic sight was the nearby complex of steep crags and sharp points that comprised the highest point on all of Vancouver Island - The Golden Hinde, reaching a height of over 7200 feet (2200m). Very respectable for a mountain on an island.
courtesy BConnell
courtesy JInnes
Andrew crossing flat slabs
Looking for a vantage point
Amazing Ridgecrest Walking
The ridgecrest itself had its own charms. It was completely bare, save for a few small patches of low alpine plants and heather. The structure of the bedrock on the ridge formed long narrow depressions, and several of these had turquoise-blue ponds in them. There was even one long finger of a snowfield in one - the first up-close snow we had seen on this backpack.
courtesy JInnes
As nice as it was to poke around the subtleties of the ridgeline, it was the nearby Golden Hinde that dominated one's attention. We were actually quite close to the mountain - in a straight line, that is. Between us stood the deep valley of the Wolf River, whose forested valley floor was more than 4000 feet (1300m) below us. Actually getting to the base of the Hinde from our current location would either involve a very strenuous down-and-up, or a two-day backpack via connecting ridges.
We were ok with not visiting the Hinde today, though. Instead, we were content merely to look at it. We located a perfect little patch of soft heathery ground that provided a glorious vantage point, and stopped for an afternoon snack break. A dry, gentle breeze and nearly perfect temperatures completed the perfection of the spot.
courtesy JInnes
courtesy AHyndman
We could have easily relaxed and dozed on our cushy little ridgetop rest spot for hours - but we did want to get to the top of something, so we eventually made ready to continue on, towards Morrison Spire. Although we couldn't quite see it from our current spot - a few intermediate bumps along the ridge blocked our view - we knew we were now quite close.
First Snow
Once on the McBride-Morrison ridgeline, there is no specific path to follow. The route simply involves following the crest south, until one reaches the spire. We elected to boot up the aforementioned sliver of a snowfield. We were feeling a bit nostalgic for the feeling of firm corn snow underfoot.
The top end of the snow field ended in a dropoff into the basin north of Morrison Spire, and there was a nice view of the spire's north-east cliff face.
courtesy JInnes
courtesy BConnell
Andrew and Morrison Spire
At the top end of the snow field, we climbed up right, regaining the crest of the ridge. The spire was now directly in front of us, perhaps only a few hundred yards / metres away. In contrast to the three-spired vertical spike that it appeared to be from our camp, from this angle, the spire looked more like a triangular peak with only a moderately-sloping western aspect.
We hiked along the now-narrow (but not knife-edged) section of ridgeline, and in a few more minutes, we were at the base of the scrub-covered western slope of the spire.
Final Ridgecrest to Spire