Mosley Creek Day 5-Homathko River and the Flight Out

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That morning we awoke to a hard frost on the glacial moraine, muscles were sore and the team was slow on the rise. We began with a refueling session of oatmeal and other breakfast foods. The shear beauty and almost spiritual feel of this place is hard to describe. Arguably the very heart of one North America’s bigger wilderness mountain ranges, one can’t help feeling the power of the Waddington vortex.

Snow-laden peaks surrounded our glacial spread.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Early morning frost coats the gear; first round of breakfast cooking up.

photo by Johnnie Kern


photo by Johnnie Kern

Here is a shot of the team on April 8th, 2005

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The same mountains during the fall of 2003.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Due to our camp’s location on the third tributary of the Homathko, we began the morning by paddling down the glacial Tiedemann Creek.

The confluence with Mosley Creek and Tiedemann Creek.

photo by Johnnie Kern

After the two creeks come together a sort section leads to the main Homathko and the mighty Trifluence.

The river is typically paddled with a flow of 8,000-12,000 cfs. Due to the necessary low flow we needed for the Mosley Creek, the Homathko was running an unusual 3,500 cfs. Anticipation for what we would find downstream ran high, with speculation of river–wide sieves and boxed-in hydraulics.

Here is series of “The Bet”. The Bet is the single most challenging rapid on the river, we were sure we would find a terminal aspect at the bottom, but the rapid proved to run clean, 10 feet below the standard flow.

Pat Keller in the entrance.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Johnnie Kern working it out in the Bet.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


photo by Tommy Hilleke


photo by Tommy Hilleke


photo by Tommy Hilleke

There was still a “big dawg” hole at the bottom but the momentum of our loaded boats was no match for the pile.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


Our biggest concern we had in pre-planning laid in the ‘First Act of Tragedy’ Gorge. The 3 ‘Acts of Tragedy” were named not for kayaker carnage, but for the work party of Alfred Waddington, who were all murdered save one by their Indian laborers on a gravel bar at the mouth of the last Tragedy canyon.

Sure enough the main line was a pile of sieves. The portage around this canyon would be daunting at best, but fortunately there was a slot down the right hand wall open for passage. At typical flows the force of the flow would push paddlers on this side of the river into a stopped-up sieve. The flow we were on allowed escape to the center of the river, avoiding the pinch.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Pat Keller and Daniel DeLaVergne scouting “Tradgedy Act 1”

photo by Johnnie Kern

Dropping in.

photo by Johnnie Kern



photo by Johnnie Kern

Right slot and sieves in the flow.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Pat Keller

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Johnnie Kern

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The rapids lead into a beautiful boxed-in canyon. Mystical floating for sure.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


photo by Johnnie Kern

The Second Act of Tragedy presents the longest walled in section of the river. At typical flows the Second Act is composed of three parts; A tight box with undercuts and bizarre currents, a river-wide ledge with multiple options, all with epic consequences, then a long rapid culminating in the “Death Hole”.

Grace in the entrance to Part 1.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Pat Keller same, the boulder he is passing is typically forming a large hydraulic.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Grace in the outflow of the first box of Act II.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Johnnie Kern Act II, Part II.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

One of the big issues with the Second Act comes in the form of a creek separating the box canyon in two. The scout all the way to the Death Hole typically takes 30 minutes each way and requires a swim across said creek. Twice. We chose to forego that option and dropped right in, leaving us ZERO portage option.

Here is Johnnie Kern hopping out for a look-see.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Pat Keller and John Grace headed through the gut of Act II.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

A look up from the bottom of II.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


photo by Johnnie Kern


photo by Johnnie Kern

The team survived the Third Act and bombed through the last significant cataract, Labyrinth, without executing a bit of scouting. There were a few tenuous moments but in the end it all went just fine.

After paddling through the still and deep Waddington Canyon it was time to pull out and call in the heli shuttle. During the fall Homathko Season paddlers usually cruise out the final forty miles of dead flat water to Bute Inlet, but due to the low flow we feared we would get lost in the myriad of braided flows.

Paddling to the coast also requires the use of a Float Plane, which must fly at a higher elevation than the helicopter and is inherently more susceptible to weather delays.

Kern calling in the Bell Long Ranger.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Mike King coming in hot.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Sand Blasted.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The crew loading up the net. ‘Now this is some boat racking I could get used to.” – Tommy Hilleke.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Ready to rock and Roll.

photo by Johnnie Kern

We sent the boats on the first trip, not wanting to leave the sanctity of such a wild place. Now that we had survived the storm of ’05, paddled the river, slogged the portage and generally had a splendid time exploring the bush, the helicopter seemed such a foreign intrusion. Were we real me we would have paddled the 200 miles to Quatrra Island to the Greyhound station and bused it back to the put in. Here we were buzzing out of the river like corporate execs headed to the next board meeting.

At least for the next hour we were alone on the beach with out our gear, soaking in our last moments in the mythical Homathko Gorges.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The river flowing through Waddington Canyon, aka “Inner Peace”.

photo by Johnnie Kern

The mighty Tiedemann Glacier flowing off of Mount Waddington hidden in the smoldering clouds.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The flight out and around the huge icefields of the lower river was truly awe-inspiring, but the views turned to Triple A grade when Mike took us on “the Short Cut”.

Proud of his new Bell Long Ranger and the heli’s amazing flying capabilities, Mike flew us up and over an 8,000-foot mountain pass, complete with glaciers and all.

The run out of an old glacial bowl.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

There are many large lakes on the ridges above the Homathko and Mosley canyons. They were all as frozen as this one.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Another lake.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Once in the Short Cut we were treated with amazing close-up views of the alpine mountain terrain.

photo by Johnnie Kern


photo by Tommy Hilleke

There were active and remnant glaciers throughout the valleys and peaks of the terrain we were flying. Amazing how big and lonely the wilderness expanse of the Coast Range can be.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Johnnie documenting the beauty we were so fortunate to witness. The images and video we returned with nothing short of spectacular, but hardly did justice to the first hand experience.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


photo by Johnnie Kern

After our momentous crossing of the pass we dropped out of the alpine and back toward our base camp at White Saddle Air (2,900 feet).

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Unloading our gear from the net, we shared a feeling of uncontained excitement and the ever-present dread of returning to the work-a-day world from which we had momentarily escaped.

photo by Johnnie Kern

The pile of gear that we hauled down the river, packing up for the trip back to Seattle.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Locked and loaded, we said goodbye to our new friends from Canada, vowing to return for a trip down the mighty Homathko River.

photo by Johnnie Kern

For the complete story and brilliant images see the OR Issue of Canoe and Kayak Magazine.

To witness the story of our trip from your television check out LVM Issue #17, available this fall at LVMvideo.com.

Mosley Creek Day 4- The Portage

After a pleasant evening by the fire, the confidence level of the team was on the rise. Pat had suffered a brain tingling spill while portaging late in the day and was nearing shutdown. Grace saw him fall off an eight foot tall boulder with the initial impact occurring to the back of his head, the second occurring as his whole body landed in a frigid pool between the house sized boulders. John said the impact would have damn near killed one of us, but the young and resilient Mr. Keller carried on. After some good cheer at camp he was back and the group began to speculate about the final push to the Homathko River. We had paddled around six miles and now there was only the final ¾ mile to the end. John Kern mentioned a review our footage from the helicopter.


photo by Johnnie Kern

The review of the four remaining rapids did not support of current mood of confidence, in fact it sent us all to bed with thoughts of marginal, unprotected rock climbing in an un-passable box canyon with as many choked off sieves as rapids.

As soon as I awoke from my pleasant dreams I sat up in my cave camp, smashing my head into the overhanging rocks. The reality of the here and now struck home, literally. This day would require an enormous amount of effort, dexterity and drive, one way or another.

Utilizing the camera to scout one more time.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Johnnie Kern self-portrait. Expression says it all.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Upstream from our camp, notice the bluebird skies.

photo by Johnnie Kern

During the AM a variety of plans were discussed. We knew we had 6 rapids and at least 4 were completely unrunnable. We also knew that we could, with a tremendous amount of effort, cross the river and portage up the river right canyon wall, and walk to the base of the river via the ridgeline.

Here is Tommy scouting the first falls downstream, “It don’t look so good boys, you might be able to…nahh”

photo by Johnnie Kern

John and Daniel scouting the maelstrom below the saddle camp.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

After extensive scouting and deliberation we decided not to gamble on the river left portage and set out to go straight up the right wall.

The going was near vertical at times and required extensive boat hauling and teamwork.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

We reached one rock band of cliffs that could not be passed without a few “up and over” hauls. The crew was beaten and exhausted after schlepping our 100-pound kayaks 1000 vertical feet straight up.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Near the top of the ridge the snow became even deeper, one miss-step and a dropped boat would plummet back toward the river, an unacceptable situation.

Here is Riley ‘topping out’ after 3.5 hours of uphill portaging.

photo by Johnnie Kern

The view from the top was nothing short of spectacular. Making the whole trip worth it.

photo by Johnnie Kern

After another hour of slogging through the snow at the top of the ridge we got our first glance down into the mighty Homathko River.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Enjoying the view from a grove of yellow cedar.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Another shot of the Homathko gorges.

photo by Johnnie Kern

After nearly six hours of portaging we popped out of the snow and blow down to this amazing bench. The beauty of the panoramic view cannot be expressed in words, barely in pictures. It was a truly spiritual experience to be so deep amongst it and so far from civilization in such an inhospitable place. It could be said that life was created for moments like these. Surely a day in the woods I will never forget.

photo by Johnnie Kern


With only 30 minutes of daylight remaining we were faced with the decision to sleep waterless on the bench or bushwhack our way the Tiedemann creek flood plain, down to our right. Although exhausted from hauling our kayaks through the snow and terrain we decided to push on.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Here is a shot of the mighty trifluence. Tiedemann creek to the left, Mosley in the closer crack to the viewers left and the Homathko in the distance flowing from left to right.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

We made our less-than-graceful final push straight off the bench and onto the Tiedemann flood plane, at last we were out of the snow, on flat ground and loving life.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

John Grace prepares the fire to ward off the extremely cold temps that were about to flush in from the heavens.

photo by Johnnie Kern

We were treated to some amazing alpen glow up an un-named glacier.

photo by Johnnie Kern


Dusk settling on the mountains around our camp. We went to bed, glad to be on the other side of the lower Mosley gorge, eagerly awaiting our push through the meat of the Homathko gorges.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Mosley Creek Day 3 The River

Mosley Creek Day 3- The River and Camp 1

After sitting on the cold, snow-laden gravel bar for nearly an hour, Mike returned with our boats, and to our dismay, his daughter, making more people present than seats in the Bell Long Ranger. We were now obligated to paddle the river, as there was not enough room to all pile in the helicopter and go home.

With the decision made for us, there was nothing left to do but drop in.

We paddled flats for a while in silent contemplation. We new what lay downstream from the flight, and things were going to get tough one way or another. For the moment we were all enjoying floating on the mythical Mosley Creek. Amazed that years of planning, weather and flow speculation and serious persistence had finally delivered us to the present moment. Now all we had to do was survive and our goal would be accomplished.

Here is a shot of the first rapid; you can see where the river changes from gravel bars to the gorge.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Riley and Daniel working through the warm up.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

A good look at the initial character of the river.

photo by Johnnie Kern

A downstream shot of the run-out of the first gorge.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

We soon realized that most of the rapids we took for easy class Five from the air were not that at all. The height of the drops, the complexity of the greyhound size boulders and the inherently dangerous character of the river combined to make the going tough and tenuous.

“Where do we go? Better yet, where did the river go?”

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Here is the group at the top of one of the cleaner drops.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Pat Keller pulling an artful wall grind over a dangerous hydraulic.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


John Grace and Pat in the runout of the same rapid. The stream morphology of Mosley Creek may be compared to North Carolina’s Linville Gorge or Colorado’s Black Canyon of the Gunnison, or that of Chile/Argentina’s Manso River. This company puts the Mosley in a class with some of the world’s most intimidating and dangerous whitewater.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Daniel protecting his fragile HD camera, Seattle-style.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

John Grace and Riley running another classic Mosley drop.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The rapid typifies what one would find if they made the foolish mistake of returning to Mosley Creek; big ledges and big holes with bigger trees protruding from even bigger sieves and potholes. AWESOME!

photo by Johnnie Kern

Daniel finishing out the above cataract.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Just below this gorge we experienced the most decisively dangerous moment of the trip. We scouted a complex boulder garden that was deemed un-runnable from the air due to several house size boulders blocking the entire flow of the river. Upon closer inspection a serpentine path wove its way through the madness of granite and whitewater. Riley and Daniel went first through the overhanging channel, somewhere mid rapid a powerful turn to the right is necessary to avoid a cave running perpendicular to the flow. Upon first inspection the cave appeared to be a stellar place to eddy out and enjoy being down amongst it. Second glance told a different story. The entire cave boulder was undercut and a good portion of the river was flowing UNDER the downstream wall of the cave. For those of you who have paddled the mighty Russell Fork Gorge in Kentucky, imagine the ’16 Stitches’ rock in maze rapid.

Here is John Grace pulling out after "Pat's Rapid". Notice Mr. Keller standing on top of the large boulder and the excessive flow pouring out from underneath its entire length.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Pat was third and heeded the sirens call, catching the eddy in the cave. He soon realized the error of his ways and decisively fought the flow sucking him under the downstream wall. Pat fought and made his way to a pile of boulders in the back of the cave and pulled himself up on the shore. Pat was then forced to climb up a vertical cave chimney to assess the situation. He was stuck on the river left/middle and none of team could help him out. We felt a sense of helplessness and could only offer moral support. The big problem was the rapid just below, and Pats proximity to the lead in. He was forced to seal launch over 15 feet, land in a micro eddy and then make a near-impossible upstream ferry to avoid running said rapid of destruction.

John Kern and Daniel re-entering the river after Pat's talented aversion of disaster.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

John Grace in the run-out of the same gorge.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Grace in the bottom of one of the more serious and complex cataracts of the trip.

photo by Johnnie Kern


Tommy Hilleke, deep in the meat of the run. The expression tells it all.

photo by Johnnie Kern

We finally reached the point in the gorge from which we scouted Mosley in 2003. Way less water and a whole pile of logs and sieves and undercuts, Not good.

photo by Johnnie Kern

The top of the rapid from "Amongst IT".

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Beaten and exahusted we began scouting for a bit of flat land, any flat land.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Finding a somewhat acceptable bench, 40 feet of the river, we made camp in the snow. A few random sleep spots were found, including an overhanging cave that provided shelter from the falling snow.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


photo by Tommy Hilleke

The view from the cave at Mosley camp 1.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Mosley Creek Day 3- The Flight

We awoke at 630 am to still air and no fresh snow. The weight of our plan was palatable in the air of the cabin. Nervous laughter chattered from room to room as battle gear was donned. Gore-tex dry suits with full-body fleece “union suits’, wool socks all that shit.
We met Mike at the Hanger and loaded our boats in the haul net.


photo by Johnnie Kern

Mike King and John Grace discussing the plan for the upcoming flight.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Packing last nights sleeping gear.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Final flight check.

photo by Johnnie Kern

The team ready for action.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

View from the ground.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The crew headed to the coast for scout and potential drop off at Mosley Creek.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The upper Mosley Creek; “as low as she gets”, says Grandma King.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Approaching the gorge, snow on the banks.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The mighty Mosley Creek.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


Pat Keller looking down on the large glacier dropping into the upper Mosley Creek. The huge chunk of blue was one of the most spectacular riverside ice flows any of us had ever seen, let alone paddled past.


photo by Tommy Hilleke

A bird’s eye view of a place that later turned ominous.

photo by Johnnie Kern

A concerned look for a concerning situation in a concerning location.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Mike King and Johnnie Kern discussing logistics in case something goes awry.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Mike taking off headed back to the heli port to pick up our kayaks.

photo by Johnnie Kern

A long lonely and introspective wait. We were all wondering what we would have to do to convince the others we should get back in the bird and go home.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Mike delivering our boats from the interior. Serious reality check.

photo by Tommy Hilleke



photo by Johnnie Kern


photo by Tommy Hilleke

The team headed into the depths of Mosley Creek. 36 degrees Fahrenheit, 6 inches of snow and about 900 CFS, perfect.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Mosley Creek Day 2 Base Camp

We awoke the next morning to a fresh coat of snow on the ground, high winds whipping out of the Coast Range and more flakes falling on the ranch.

Our guesthouse at the White Saddle B&B.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Spaceships at the ready.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


photo by Tommy Hilleke

Our original game plan was to fly with Mike around 1 pm. He was flying around a group of top Ministry executives and would not be ready to fly till the afternoon. High wind warnings were issued and Mike’s flight was delayed. He advised us that the cost of the flight would be prohibitively higher due to the excessive head wind. With temperatures hovering around two degrees Celsius and sixty-kilometer per hour wind gusts, we were happy to blow off the mission for a day. The team spent our time working with Dave and Lauri on the King Ranch.

A few Canadian Geese on the lake outside the Hanger.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Lauri and Riley feeding the horses.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Hay Good.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The King Ranch is mid-calving, here is a baby less than 1 hour old.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Milk Good.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Here the house dogs hang with John Grace as he films a spectacular timelapse with his new High-Definition (HD) camera.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

With the advent of portable and legitimate HD cameras, we felt a real adventure was needed to capture the raw image-producing power of the cameras.
photo by Tommy Hilleke

The only real issues we experienced were the overall size of the cameras. Here is John cutting down the foam liner that protects his HD camera from shock, while a dry duffel bag keeps out the elements.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Here is Daniel modifying his front wall to facilitate the creation of what he calls “a $5,000 Suicide Block". (We do not recommend placing large objects between your legs while kayaking. The object will inhibite the ability for a user to exit the craft without the object first being removed.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Mosley Creek Day 1 Base Camp

After stopping over in Williams Lake, we made our way out into the Chilcotin Plateau. The weather in the interior was blustery and cold. We had trouble convincing locals of our plan to paddle out to the coast, most just wrote us off as foolish Americans.

Loaded up and ready to roll.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

After a 3-hour drive from the Caribou interior we arrived at the edge of the West Chilcotin Plateau.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Mosley Creek where it meets the Homathko River.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Conditions were bitter atop the plateau and team moral was dragging to a low point.
All of the lakes and rivers we drove past were either frozen or deep with snow on the banks. Our last push took us over the top and down into the White Saddle Ranch and Air Service. The climate down the hill brought our spirits up a bit. The air was warmer, a light rain was falling and there was no snow on the ground.

White Saddle Air.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Here are a few of the crew checking out the flow at the top of Mosley Creek.
“As low as the river ever gets", according to Grandma King.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

That night we were treated to a five star meal served up by Lauri King of the White Saddle Bed and Breakfast.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

After a fine meal the crew was ready to fly into the coast early the next AM.
Pat Keller getting swallowed up by his Nomad as he stows away his gear.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

John Grace sorting out his new HD Camera, aka “a $5,000 dollar suicide block".

photo by Tommy Hilleke

photo by Tommy Hilleke

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Pat packing his food.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Johnnie Kern preparing his specialty, Peanut Butter, Honey and Nuttella Sandwiches, seven of them to be precise.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Nervous energy was palatable as the six of us drifted off into fitful sleep; eager to see what we would find when we headed into the heart of Mosley Creek, one of the last great first descents in North America.

“When Stars Align” sort of

Watch an 8 Minute Streaming Movie of an aborted attempt in 2003 (High Speed Internet Required) ***This clip courtesy of John Grace. Part of the Feature Film, “Amongst It”.

Relief Map of the BC wildlands. Large white mass is Mt. Waddington. Mosley is the drainage just to the leeward slope of Waddington.


Here is a shot of the current visible and IR satellite. The weather channel is calling for the biggest storm of the year to rage through the BC coast on Tuesday night (5th). The water level appears to be holding low and the temperatures will range from -2 to 13 degrees Celsius till Saturday, where overnight lows will drop to -7 Celsius.


The team is preparing to depart from Williams Lake to White Saddle Air this afternoon, where we will fly out in the morning for the heart of Mosley Creek. We hope to survive the trip and return with stories of a successful first descent through embattled conditions and expansive winderness.

Mosley Creek First Descent

Watch an 8 Minute Streaming Movie of an aborted attempt in 2003 (High Speed Internet Required) > ***This clip courtesy of John Grace. Part of the Feature Film, “Amongst It”.

If you were to open an atlas to British Columbia, perhaps the first thing that would catch your eye is an expansive road less wilderness somewhere to the north of Vancouver. Here lies the heart of the Coast Range. Spanning thousands of square miles, this wilderness spans from the Chilcotin Plateau through mountains and glacier ice fields of the grandest stature. Draining the epicenter of these features are three main flows, the Homathko River, Tiedemann Glacier Creek and Mosley Creek. These three meet at a mystical trifluence, whose destination we seek.

John Grace paddling out of the bottom canyon of Mosley Creek. 2003 Scouting Mission.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The evening autumn sun falls on the Trifluence. The Homathko River on the right and combined flows of Mosley and Tiedemann Creeks.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


The Stats
Location: British Columbia Coast Range
The Rivers: Mosley Creek, into the final gorges of the Homathko River
Start Point: White Saddle Air, Tatla Lake, BC


End Point: Homathko Camp, Bute Inlet, BC



Crux: 15 Miles of un run whitewater on Mosley Creek. Most notably the final seven miles, two of which drop into the trifluene at a stout 250 vertical feet per mile.
The Team: Pat Keller, Johnnie Kern, Riley Cathcart, John Grace, Tommy Hilleke, Daniel DeLaVergne

Execution: The team has selected early April due to the extremely low winter flows. The temperatures have just started to climb, but still freezing at night keeping the glacial headwaters at bay. We will fly From White Saddle Air with Mike as Heli Pilot. We will drop in at the head of the gorge and get a bird’s eye view of what is in store. We will spend two days solving the problems of Mosley’s Box Canyons and another on the final gorges of the Homathko River (otherwise known as the ‘The Three Acts of Tragedy).

The Homathko River passing through “The Bet”, just below the trifluence with Mosley and Tiedemann Creek.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

A Brief History of the Homathko River and Mosley Creek

Scouting mission in 2003 to Mosley Creek

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The Homathko River Gorges have always proved impassible to the white man. Alfred Waddington attempted to build a “road” through the Homathko and Mosley Creek to the gold-rich Chilcotin plateau. The road construction crew were slaughtered by their Native guides at a gravel spit of land deep in Waddington Canyon. To this day no roads penetrate into canyons of the Homathko.
Stewart Smith and a group of Germans made the first descent in the late 80s or early 90s. The river has been run around 18 times, some major portage fests, so near complete trips. Homathko paddlers typically fly back to the putin lake via a float plane. If the skies are clear, passengers on the left side of the plane get a bird’s eye view of the elusive Mosley Creek. Multiple scouting Missions have approached Mosley, in fact one tandem paddled all the way to the head of the canyon, then bailed out.

Gideon Schutze and his Sharp Wings Beaver Float Plane

photo by Tommy Hilleke