Paton and Coliseum via the LSCR

My goals for the day were simple:  sleep in, bag a few peaks in the sun with some folks I'd not run with in a while and be home in time to do some yard work before sparking-up the bar-b.

After successfully accomplishing goal #1, things went slightly sideways.  First, as the clock ticked-down to show-time, those who had been after me all week to do a Sunday run were not to be found.  Second, I fell victim to a "bait and switch" by Environment Canada... steely gray skies, low hanging clouds and the threat of rain were substituted for the magnificent weather I'd been promised all week.

During a lapse into indecisiveness, I drew upon Shakespeare's Hamlet...

"To bag, or not to bag: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of again missing the summit of the Bagger Challenge,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by getting on my bike, end them?
To die: to sleep;
No more;
and by a sleep to say I avoid the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that falling-off cliffs, scraping my shins on blueberry bushes and getting cold and wet is heir to,
'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd..."

or something like that.  Anyway, time was a-wasting so with only seven days remaining in the 2010 Bagger Challenge and a narrow window of opportunity today, I saddled-up and set out on a solo, bike cloud bag.  Here's how it went:

• rode down the street in full bagger gear at 09:00.  Cruised by the End of the Line Cafe to see if I could find some company, but none was there.  Continued to the LSCR gazebo then up the LSCR trail.  It was a cool, misty morning. Lots more leaves on the ground than a week ago. Kept my eyes peeled for mushrooms and the 9K marker
• saw mushrooms, missed the 9K marker.  No worries because the recreation trail intersects the service road to Seymour Dam about 100m beyond my cutoff.  I double-back and take a fairly steep dirt side road up into the fog.  Lots of pink "culvert" tape in the trees
• dirt road ends at a creek in about 1K.  North Shore Rescue tape on a tree.  Must be the trail, I figure.  Figure right.  10:15.  Stash the bike and start to run.  Dho!... guess I don't need the helmet, so run back and stash the helmet, too.
• was expecting burly bushwhack.  Trail not what I was expecting.  Think Grouse Grind back in the day:  wide-open forest with a well-defined trail, soft underfoot, lots of marking, not a soul to be seen
• arrive at Paton Peak in about 1 hour.  Can't see a thing, but assume the friendly inukshuk is as good as a cairn for peak shot. Pace around a bit and find a home-made snowshoe (made from tennis racket and duct tape) and a nice, albeit dirty, hand-made toque.  Wonder if the owner had slipped into insanity and was eaten by a bear?
• drop down other side of peak into the drenching maw of bushes and scrubby pines.  Soaked to the bone yet again every time I grab a tree.  Shoes make squeaking noises as I jog across boulder fields, hike up a rope, skirt a cliff and finally reach the peak at 12:30-ish
• eat some leftover pork chops and ravioli in the wind and rain.  Harsh.  Dumb question, but am I on the peak of Coliseum or is this Burwell?  Don't want to consult map for fear of ruining it, so rummage around the cairn for a clue. 
• What's this?   I pull a bottle with a weathered sambuca label from the rocks.  It is 3/4 full of a clear liquid.  Curiosity gets the best of me.  'Smells like sambuca.  No telltale traces of yellow in the liquid.  "Why would anyone leave their booze up here?" I wonder.  Could it be a gift from the Gods... a reward for soldiering all this way, alone through the wet and the fog?  I take a sip.  'Tastes like sambuca.  I thank the kind soul who left me this thoughtful gift, take a bigger sip, carefully replace the bottle and with squishy shoes, head out before I freeze solid.
• assume I was on Coliseum.  Opt to save BUR for another day.  Retrace steps back to the saddle with Paton.  Try a different trail I assume goes around the peak, but end up backtracking rather than gambling.   Jogged most of the way down on the soft trail.  Bike and helmet still there. Woo hoo... trust in human nature invigorated
• back home by 3:30 making that a 6.5-hour round-trip.  Even managed to get some yard-work in before sparking up the bar-b.  Success!