Mount Drysdale adopted 4 June 1918 on Kootenay Park sheet, as submitted by the BC Mountaineering Club. Published in the the 16th Report of the Geographic Board of Canada, 31 March 1919.

Source: BC place name cards, or correspondence to/from BC's Chief Geographer or BC Geographical Names Office

"After C. W. Drysdale, geologist, drowned in Kootenay River 10 July 1917." (16th Report, Geographic Board of Canada). Born 1885; employed by Geological Survey of Canada; attempting to cross Kootenay River, 30 miles above Athalmar, with fellow geologist William J. Gray from Vancouver; raft capsized and both were swept away.

Source: BC place name cards, or correspondence to/from BC's Chief Geographer or BC Geographical Names Office

After Charles W. Drysdale, Ph.D, who died in the midst of his labours in British Columbia, the province to whose development he was so deeply devoted. He was drowned in the Kootenay River (along with his assistant, William J. Gray of Vancouver) while on a geological survey, July 10, 1917. (Ottawa file 0320)

Source: Canadian Geographical Names Database, Ottawa

Charles Wales Drysdale, born 1 November 1885 at Montreal, son of Mary Maltbie Wales Drysdale and William Drysdale, publisher; graduated from McGill University with an Engineering degree, then received a Doctorate degree from Yale University in 1912 for his detailed study of the areal and economic geology of the Franklin Camp area. Joined Geological Survey of Canada in 1913 and was engaged on their field survey at the time of his death. Drysdale's geological surveys in BC include: Franklin Mining Camp, 1911; Geology of the Thompson River Valley below Kamloops Lake, 1912; Rossland Mining Camp, 1913; Ymir Mining Camp, 1914; Geology of Franklin Mining Camp, 1915; Anyox Map Area and Bridge River Map Area, 1916; Ymir Mining Camp, 1917; Bridge River Mining Area and Slocan Mining Area, 1918 (edited & published by GSC posthumously). First ascent is credited to a party that included Drysdale's daughter, Donacilla Drysdale Peck. (information provided October 2001 by Drysdale's grandson, E. Peck)

Source: BC place name cards, or correspondence to/from BC's Chief Geographer or BC Geographical Names Office

The following is a transcription of a letter describing Drysdale's death in the field: "Sinclair Post Office, 12 July 1917. Dear Mrs Drysdale:- It's midnight and everything is quiet and I am going to try and tell you all. We spent Monday looking for a possible fording place but failed and decided to raft across. Tuesday we moved up the Kootenay River about three miles above where the cross River empties into it and decided to build a raft on an island that we could reach by fording and that left much less of the river to raft than if we had taken a spot where the whole river would have to be crossed. We build the raft of logs in the log jam at the upper end of island "f". It was wired and spiked, 16 feet long by 8 feet wide, made of logs 10 inches or over in diameter, a staunch craft which struck a log at the head of the island "f" on the return without hurting it and struck the cliff at "z" and capsized without hurting it, on the second trip across. Our packer George M. Smith, who had rafted many times and our most experienced man, was practically in charge of the raft on both trips by common consent. We were all on the island and all helped build the raft, loaded it, lashing everything to the raft and Smith and your husband decided to make the first trip. I shoved the raft off with an 18 foot pole, going into the water about 20 feet and your husband, or the "chief" as he was affectionately called by the packer, (Smith) jumped ashore at "b" with the rope. He had difficulty holding the raft and Smith jumped also and they swung it in to shore, a perfect crossing. The safety zone, or place along any part of which a safe landing could be made extended 900 feet below where they stopped so we all felt that perfect safety for the second trip was assured. I crossed on one of the horses and we made it after a long hard swim, in which I was proud of him, hitting the bank above "b". The three of us then lined the raft back up the river to "g", a long very hard trip with Smith in his stocking feet. Your husband and myself had kept out shoes on even though we expected that we might have to swim for it. Since "the chief" was chief of the party and felt that he should be with the main outfit and since he and Smith had already made one safe trip I was left on the far side of the river to catch the rope on the second trip and thus save either of them from having to jump again after the exertion of paddling across, and they crossed back. I still think it was wise, they had crossed safely, knew the raft and the river and a fresh man was on hand to catch the rope and we
saw no chance of failure. I was able again to give the raft a good 35 feet push off and they made the head of our island but struck the jam hard enough so that the raft tipped upon its side in the current and when they righted it the raft was floating upside down. It was absolutely unhurt so they spiked new pieces across it and loaded the rest of the material. The horses were then sent across with Emmons, the cook on the first horse. He and all the horses made the trip safely though two of the horses were very poor swimmers. Perhaps I should mention that we were all in our underwear except you husband who kept on his breeches and the cook who kept on only his shirt and even took off his hobnailed boots. As things turned out he would have been unable to offer
any assistance if he had been there but the absence of some clothing made it impossible for him to stand the cold water and the absence of boots made him slower in reaching the cliffs than I who had kept them on, but for the same reason placed him in a position to see what happened. He reached the west side of the river in time to stand with me at "b" ready to catch the rope (two lash ropes tied together) from the raft. I had spent the meantime getting acquainted with the bottom, the water was very muddy, depth of water, etc., below "b" so that there should be no failure from our stepping into a deep hole and being pulled off our feet. The raft started with your husband, Gray his assistant, and Smith (and our little stray dog Gyp, who had joined us at Canmore and had climbed every hill with us, swam those fords where we didn't lift him into one of our saddles, shared our lunches and our beds, - he insisted on being inside and usually slept with Gray) but there was no one to push it off, a disadvantage which I immediately assumed would be more than offset by the presence of an extra man to paddle, but the raft never got into the current that would have swung it toward the shore from "b" to "b" 1. They were way beyond the reach of ropes though we selected the proven shallowest portion and went to the farthest possible depth. They were paddling strong, however, and there was still 900 feet of good landing below so I ran down the bank to "b" 1 keeping opposite them. Shortly before they reached that point they realised they never could make it, they were still almost in mid current, and started to paddle away from shore in order not to be carried against the cliffs. In this they were too late and the raft struck the cliff at "a" just alongside of a little inlet. If it had struck about twenty feet further down the inlet (another one) at that point was just so fixed that they probably could have saved themselves and easily waited for us to help them climb the cliff. Your husband jumped for this inlet, followed immediately by his assistant, - and that instant I saw a foot splash the water as if one of them were swimming hard to keep in the inlet. It all happened so suddenly that it seemed as if I were looking down from above with a pole in my hands ten seconds later but the cook estimated the time at a minute and a half or possibly more when I asked the next morning. We went over the ground and I had ran 80 feet swam 50 feet, crawled over a large spruce tree, swam 15 feet more, climbed the gravel cliff which fortunately was not as vertical as it usually weathers, about 20 feet high, and ran 60 feet picking up a pole with a branched end, which seemed to be providentially placed by my path, before I reached the spot. But they were gone and by the way the water swirled and shot under the cliff I knew that they had been carried down. I ran to the next inlet, and the next, and then saw that Smith had saved himself and was watching the river for them. I could see the river near the cliffs and for several hundred yards downstream but neither Smith from the raft which he climbed aboard after it capsized or from the bar "d" to which he jumped, nor the cook from his position upstream where he could see into the inlet, nor I from the top of the cliff ever saw either of them after that first splash. On the chance that they might have lodged in the log jam at the upper end of bar "d" we worked in the water there for two hours and a half. Written or spoken words couldn't convey our feelings then nor mine now. We heard no outcry and they must have gone under immediately - soundings next morning showed a cut under the bank with very deep water and a terrible undertow. The cook told me today that he had followed me over the spruce log below the cliff and for some time was afraid he would go under himself. I had to tell him I was never conscious of a current when I swam it and only mention it now because it almost got him and it wasn't the fraction of a circumstance to the current that cut under form the inlet the boys jumped into. They hadn't a
single chance. Both your husband and his assistant must have lost consciousness immediately, the time was one of instants rather than seconds, and we, after the shock of almost unbelievable suddenness looked to this as the one ray of light in a picture that is so gloomy that my pen falters. We kept hoping, or expecting to hear a call from somewhere, it didn't seem possible, and when two and a half hours had gone by (the cook's watch came over safely) without our finding what we were hoping against hope we would find soon enough it was a sorry little party that huddled around the material we had saved, found a waterproof match safe, and built a fire. It was getting dark and I only gave the word to stop when it seemed certain that they were not caught in the logs and when it seemed too probable that in our thoroughly chilled condition a mis-step in the treacherous swiftness that swept around and under that log jam would butadd another to the toll. We were up before sunrise and after spending five hours on the jam without success we came back to the spot where we had seen the last of our comrades and left the following record on a large spruce tree 25 feet back from the edge of the cliff:
C.W.DRYSDALE
W.J.GRAY
July 10/17.
Thirty miles trail from the nearest settlement, in the heart of the mountains he loved, three bareheaded men by the side of a rude record made by their only rescued instrument, a jack-knife, asking God to bless Mr and Mrs Gray and yourself and your dear children. I can't write anymore. (signed) Lancaster D. Burling. I can't close without saying that I count it one of the privileges of my life to have gotten to know your husband and the men all felt and feel the same. This letter is so full of our little part, I am sorry." (transcript provided October 2001 by Drysdale's grandson, E. Peck; annotated map showing locations not included)

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