Update June 2017:
Google killed the Picasaweb photo service and the photos in this post no longer click through to larger versions. Here's the album containing the photos: https://goo.gl/photos/GGrx3D6o41gU6mbw7
Craig, Brenda and I hiked up to Hermit Meadows on Saturday afternoon.
Much less snow this year and we didn't even need to dig out a tent platform.
The next morning we got an early start and made our way across snow and braided streams to the start of the ridge. The snow was still quite supportive and there were only a few occasions when one of us would disappear up to the waist with a startled "oomph!".
The route wanders up and down across easy terrain until you reach the first steep part. It looks quite imposing at first but the rock is solid (for a change) and the holds are all there. We were tentative for the first few meters but eventually got into a rhythm as the Tupper glacier began to drop away beneath our feet.
We got the rope out for a little traverse, and then for the 5.6 corner pitch, and before we knew it we were on the final pitch to the summit. We'd been worried about the weather all the way up, but it had held for us and we had great views from the top.
We were 5 1/2 hours up and we spent another 4 hours rappelling, down climbing, and slip-sliding back to the tents. The snow had softened considerably and there were quite a few more "oomphs!" on the way down than there had been on the way up.
We packed up, shouldered our heavy sacks, and trudged down the trail back to the highway. A great trip. More photos here.
Update May 2017: Google killed Picasa. So the photos in the text won't click through. Eat a dick Google. Here are the photos on Google Photos: https://goo.gl/photos/aiHusVSDSCZbYEyu6
Skyladder on Mount Andromeda has developed into a bit of a bugbear for me over the years. When we lived back east Skyladder was always on our todo list during the annual summer climbing pilgrimage; but our trips always took place in late summer and inevitably the route was out of shape with bare ice and nasty rockfall. Eventually we'd been in several times to look at Skyladder. Yeah, I know, "look at" is a euphemism for "we went to climb it but got scared and ran away in a comical Monty Pythonesque fashion". It's probably the reason I've climbed Mount Athabasca so many times; it's right next door to Andromeda.
The solution? Climb it in June. Brilliant. Apparently we're a bit late with this revelation since I don't think anyone climbs the route in summer any more. But still, we can be taught!
Ross and I left a bleary-eyed Brenda in the van at the climber's bivy at 3:30am. She had a full day of studying ahead of her, but that wouldn't start until after several more hours of sleep. It was dark, cold, sleeting, and miserable. Egad how I envied her! I don't think we really expected to get very far but nevertheless we turned on our headlamps and began trudging along the road and up the moraines. We found our way through the icefall (not without incident), dodged crevasses across the glacier, made an end run around the bergschrund, and began kicking steps upwards.
The usual A common method of climbing Skyladder is to top out on the route and to then make a long traverse over to the Andromeda-Athabasca col. A number of raps gets you back down to the glacier. However it's notorious for getting people lost, especially in poor visibility, and visibility was decidedly lacking.
We'd resolved to kick really good steps just in case we needed to descend the same way we came up. This seemed like a great idea when I was in the lead making the steps. Unfortunately the frailty of our plan was revealed when I was later following Ross's steps; by the time I'd placed my feet in twenty of his steps the rest had disappeared. The blowing snow simply filled them in within minutes. I was mildly alarmed when I realized this but by then the weather was showing signs of improvement so we continued on up.
We'd set a turnaround time of 1:00PM. By 12:40 we'd basically completed the route but still hadn't actually topped out. The weather was still pretty dodgy so, much to Ross's dismay, we began heading down. Of course after we'd descended a few hundred meters the weather began to clear out in earnest and we were left agonizing over our decision. Oh well. The sunny skies made the descent seem easy despite not having any steps to follow down. We were back on the glacier in an hour and a half.
Almost without us noticing it had turned into a beautiful day; the sun was blazing and the fresh snow was dazzling. It was only at this point that I stupidly remembered to put on sunscreen and sunglasses. Alas, it was far too late and I already had the sunburn of my life. I'd even managed to burn my eyelids. The next couple of days were agony as my eyelids and face swelled up painfully.
Anyway, we trundled across the glacier, Ross fell into a couple of crevasses up to his waist, and we generally enjoyed our walk back to the van. Brenda, bless her, met us part way up the moraine with fresh water and snacks.
Two weekends ago we loaded the old canoe onto the van and headed to Jimmy Lake to meet Fred. Ostensibly we were going there to do some fishing, but since Brenda and I only have one fishing road between the two of us, and one of us is a vegetarian, let's just say that the fish needn't have been overly worried.
On the first part of the drive, on paved road, we traveled 157kms in about an hour and a half. On the second part of the drive, on a logging road, we traveled a whopping 20kms in one hour. 16-year old VW vans don't like logging roads.
Some highlights of the trip were two loons tearing madly around the lake chasing each other, a baby deer with it's mother, and studying a bald eagle on its nest as we casually floated by in the canoe.
We also noticed loads of bright blue damselflies congregating on lily pads. Looking closely we realized that (what we assume to be) female damselflies were hatching in the water and clinging to the underside of the lily pads. The males were patiently waiting for them to come to the surface. As soon as a female got too close to the edge of a lily pad, a male would grab her and haul her to the surface and try to mate. There was a lot happening on those lily pads and we spent quite a while watching, enthralled.
That's about it. Fred claims to have caught a good sized rainbow trout, but since it was already cleaned and in the freezer when we arrived, we're a bit dubious.
We were hoping to get over to the north side of Bruins Pass again on Saturday. The weather forecast was pretty grim as we started up the Connaught on a wet and grey morning. We knew that we were pushing our luck with the weather but you "need to give the mountain a chance" as they say.
There were about 5cms of moist new snow over a hard surface. As we plodded upwards, and the terrain became steeper, our skins seemed to delight in randomly losing their purchase and skidding out from underneath us. Comical at first, but it got old in a hurry. The skins were balling up with frustrating regularity too.
But we fought the good fight and struggled on upwards. At first it looked as though we would be rewarded for our efforts too; a fleeting patch of blue sky appeared providing us with a view back towards Cheops.
The wind changed direction, the clouds churned up, and we actually had a reasonable window of good weather. After half an hour this was our view to Bruins Pass.
But even in this photo it already looked as though our window was beginning to shut. A few minutes later this was Steve pointing to the same rocky outcrop.
We hunkered down for a while under the tarp to wait-and-see. Snacks were eaten. The tarp layout was "improved" fifty times. More snacks were eaten. Chunks of snow were cut off the cornice and rolled down the slope to disappear in the mist. Old Easter candy was discovered in the bottom of a lunch bag and passed around to much acclaim.
But, reluctantly, we admitted defeat and carried our skis part way down the ridge until it was wide enough to begin skiing down.
Ah well, you win some and you lose some. Between yard work and family visits I'm sure we'll be out again this spring.
We skied Forever Young on Saturday, and today, two days later, we're still basking in the glow of good memories.
Forever Young is a steep couloir that drops off the north edge of Young's Peak. It's about 500m high and 40+ degrees for much of it's length. It's also extremely narrow in places, or at least it seems really narrow to weekend warriors like ourselves. And so yes I feel that we can legitimately use the term "couloir" rather than "gully" :)
(Photo from 2008)
The day started clear and warm as we skied up the Illecillewaet Glacier. The four of us were sweating buckets, but the great morning weather had turned foul and cold by midday. The visibility deteriorated so badly that we double-checked the GPS to make sure it was properly tracking our route, just in case. It's pretty easy to get turned around on the Illecillewaet in bad light.
We made our way over the rolling snow towards Youngs Peak. Along the way we met up with another party that were heading for the Young's Peak traverse; they were hunkered down to wait for the weather to improve. We said our hello's and continued over to the top of Forever Young where, admittedly, I could feel the butterflies beginning to form in my stomach.
It's just so bloody intimidating! The first turns are steep, but the real kicker is that the slope is convex; as you look down the gully it kind of rolls away and gets even steeper, hiding most of the run from view. The walls loom ominously above and pinch off part way down too for good measure. It's quite a sight.
It was simply an awesome ski; steep, exhilarating, thrilling, kinda nerve wracking, but most of all, exhausting!
We'd make 4 or 5 turns and then quickly scoot to the side to catch our breath and let our sloughs run past. Eventually, after what seemed like forever, the walls opened up a bit and the angle let up just a little, and we were left with a fantastic run down the lower third of the slope.
Best ski of the season, bar none. More photos here.
We expected that the only place we were going to find good snow this weekend was on north facing terrain at high elevations. Having never skied the north side of Bruins Pass before, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to go up and have a look. Nick and Steve joined us at the Visitor's Centre and we were away.
It sure gets quiet this time of year in Rogers Pass; I think people are just tired of skiing by now. After six months of it I was kind of feeling the same way as we trudged up the Connaught Drainage and started up Bruins Ridge. It's hard to get motivated when it's hot and the snow is beginning to melt away.
Spring seems to have arrived early and we were reminded again of how much less snow there is this year. Here's a photo of Bruins Ridge from March of last year (first photo) and another from the same spot this weekend (second photo).
It's a month later, and the ridge is pretty wind-blasted, but it still seems like a big difference.
Anyway enough about that. Our enthusiasm was quickly restored when we dropped over Bruins Pass. It was cold and wintry, the snow was powdery and untouched, and the skiing was fantastic. After one run down we were all smiles. We skinned back up and on a lark boot packed to the top of 8812.
We had another run down and it was even better. By the time we had skinned back up to Bruins we'd logged almost 2000 meters of climbing on the day. I think that's the biggest ski day we've ever had. The return ski down the east facing 8812 bowl was...er, marginal to put it charitably, so we won't talk about that. But overall certainly one of our best days this season.
Another annual hut trip has come and gone. It's hard to believe that 12 months have passed since I wrote about our last hut trip. Where does the time go?
We have already been to Sorcerer twice. It's such an amazing place that when we last flew out from the lodge back in 2007 we booked a week in 2009 as we stepped off the helicopter. Of all of the huts we've been to, Sorcerer has the most impressive and varied terrain, the best accommodations, the nicest owner, and is the most professionally operated of them all. You've got a special place Tannis. Thanks!
The trip got off to a good start in Golden where we stayed at the Ponderosa Motel. When the proprietor learned that we were repeat customers he was barely able to restrain his enthusiasm. As we organized gear in the parking lot he chatted and joked with us. At one point he ducked into the office and returned with Ponderosa Motel ball caps for each of us!
This time of year you can get full-on spring or full-on winter conditions. Thankfully we had conditions that were more like winter with cold temperatures, generally clear skies and just a hint of spring in the air. The March 1st layer was still reactive at tree line. Although the avalanche conditions generally improved throughout the week we still avoided some of the steeper lines that we've skied in past years. There was also less snow in general, a common story in the Selkirks this year. There were many holes and fractures showing on the glaciers that we'd never seen before. We often wore harnesses and probed for crevasses whenever we stopped for lunch or something.
There were a couple of pine martens around the hut this year. They were incredibly bold. One only very reluctantly gave way to let me through to the sauna; he growled and hissed at me as I passed. Having left a pair sandals on the deck I returned to find one of them missing. Thief! I was miffed. From then on, after returning from a day of skiing I would wander around the hut with a shovel and dig up random marten holes looking for the stolen booty. It seemed a hopeless endeavor but I persevered.
On the fourth day I followed a particularly well worn marten path away from the hut towards the lake. It led to series of deep rocky nooks. As I approached actually saw the little bugger clambering up the cliff side away from me. I scrambled down to the lake and lowered myself head first between the rocks to peer into the darkness. As my eyes slowly adjusted I slowly discerned the outline of...a sandal! There it was far back in the deepest nook. Aha you little bugger, victory is mine. Well, victory of a sort anyway since there wasn't much sandal left. Still...screw you marten.
Our trip to the Asulkan Hut this weekend seemed to mark the transition from winter to spring skiing. It began in the customary manner; clagged in and misty. We wondered if we would even be able to venture above the hut. We shouldn't have worried. An incredible overnight gale had the hut shuddering on it's foundations and made the simple task of collecting snow for water a major ordeal. But the wind blew away the clouds and we awoke the next morning to blue skies and the sight of an impressive avalanche that had crashed down off Mount Leda and continued down towards the mouse trap.
And thus began a remarkable two days of skiing. Blue skies, warm temperatures, great snow. It couldn't have been any better. Even when we had completely exhausted ourselves we didn't want to call it a day and just kept going up for more. A few in the group put in something over 2000m of vertical on Saturday. The place looked like heli-ski terrain by Sunday.
We had some visitors on Saturday afternoon.
Avalanche control was on-going in the valley and the helicopter had been dispatched to prevent a group from dropping into Loop Brook from Sapphire Col without a permit. You'd think the prospect of getting a Howitzer shell in the head would be enough of a deterrent?
Anyway they stopped in at the hut to do some repairs and to grace us with their presence.
How does that joke go...What's the difference between God and Mountain Guide? God doesn't think he's a Mountain Guide.
Okay not quite relevant but the idea is there. I guess they meant well.
Oh one last thing. We met a guy named Grog Still. He reminded us of someone but we couldn't quite place the name. He was shooting video with someone he kept referring to as "The Slough Monkey". Anyway he said he'd send us some footage. If he does we'll post it here.
On Saturday we headed up Loop Brook and skied in the Bonney Moraines. The moraines are a complicated mix of old, twisted, and interlaced ridges just below the glacier on Mount Bonney.
Despite the relatively normal sounding avalanche bulletin everyone was quite wary of the avalanche conditions. "Spooky" is a word that avalanche professionals seem to be using a lot this year. Looks like some skiers just avoided getting caught in this little nasty:
Anyway we did a couple of laps on one of the gentler moraines and then ventured onto the steeper treed slopes on far skiers right.
The skiing was, in a word, awesome.
Steve, Nick, and Fred headed home after skiing on Saturday. Brenda and I stayed and we had a short day in NRC Gully on Sunday.
If NRC wasn't just a giant avalanche path we would ski here more often! The turns-to-effort ratio is brilliant; you simply step out of the car, go up, rip off your skins, and ski right back down to the car.
But the fact remains that NRC is simply a giant avalanche path and I find it a little spooky.
Earlier this year a truly big avalanche ripped through NRC that ran beyond it's normal runout and tore up mature timber. We found lots of evidence of this event. Most of the trees have fresh scars on their uphill sides like this one:
The skiing was so-so. NRC is west facing, compared to Bonney which faces north, and the warm sun earlier in the week had made a crust that lurked about 30cm below the surface. We managed to avoid any classic telemark-death-crust-face-plants, but, like the crust itself, the possibility was always there, lurking!
We skied at Zoa Peak on Saturday. Previous visits here have left us a bit underwhelmed but maybe we've just been unlucky. This time we really enjoyed ourselves and have a new found appreciation for the place. Good visibility too so we were able to look around a bit. There's plenty of scope for exploration here.
The theme for the day was surface hoar; it was everywhere, glinting in the sun, tinkling noisily, and shooting ahead of us in ethereal fast-moving surface sloughs as we skied.
I used to do a fair bit of ice climbing when I lived in Quebec, before I discovered backcountry skiing anyway. Skiing has a much more agreeable fear-to-fun ratio. But I was never any good at it really and I've only been out a handful of times in the past several years. War has been described as "long periods of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror", and this, too, can be applied to ice climbing..."long periods of freezing-to-death punctuated by moments of sheer terror".
So I scraped the rust and cobwebs off my now dated looking ice tools, packed a thermos of hot tea, a down jacket, enormous thick gloves, a balaclava; everything I could think of to keep warm. Sean had been somewhat vague about our destination, so despite the warm temperatures in Kelowna I was prepared for the worst.
I needn't have worried. We had a fun and easy day of top roping and the greater hazard lay in overheating rather than freezing to death. One of the bigger challenges was in trying to avoid the cactii as we set up a top rope. Those buggers are not to be trifled with.
So yeah, ice climbing in the Okanagan. Not like the old days at LakeWilloughby in Vermont.
A memorable trip to the Asulkan Cabin this weekend. Snow stability in the alpine is really good right now and people are skiing big, bold lines all over the place. As we climbed up to the hut on Friday we saw a conga line of people dropping down Forever Young, a steep and narrow couloir that lines the north side of Youngs Peak. That one is on our to do list but not for this weekend. However over the course of this trip we did get up Youngs Peak from the Asulkan side (we had previously been up from the Illecillewaet side) and also had a great time skiing below Mount Jupiter on the west side of the Asulkan Valley.
Steve and Claude were originally to start skiing at 3:00PM on Friday afternoon, planning to arrive at the hut slightly after dark. But they didn't get 10 steps from the trailhead before Steve had a catastrophic binding failure. After a desperate run to Revelstoke to rent gear they eventually arrived at the hut at 11:30PM to find us all, somewhat guiltily, ensconced in our sleeping bags. "If you think I'm going to be quiet you can forget it!" announced Steve as they stomped around in the dark cabin.
We met Katie, Mark, Sean, and Yann and also caught up with Dave who we last saw on Know Mountain in December. Thanks for organizing a great weekend Steve.
Forever Young
Asulkan Cabin
Youngs Peak Headwall
Yann, Andrew, Brenda, Katie, Henry, Dave, Steve, Fred on Youngs Peak
Permits were finally available this weekend. We grabbed one for Hermit and headed up Grizzly Shoulder towards Little Sifton Col with Nick. Visibility was reasonable and our plan was to drop over the col and return to the highway via Hermit Meadows.
We dug a couple of pits on the ridge above Grizzly Shoulder, the logic being that we would be descending a similar aspect in Hermit. We got some poor compression test results on an ESE aspect @ 2250 meters on yet another sun crust over facet layer about 15cm down. Higher up the wind had wreaked havoc and it was basically dust over crust from here on up.
By the time we reached the col at around 1:30 the weather was changing and the visibility was deteriorating a bit. The north facing descent from the col is really steep. We negotiated our way around the cornice and had a good long examination of the snow. The top 20-30cm was a rock hard crust sitting on a 5cm layer of crappy facets. It was a tough call. It seemed like it would take a lot to release the slope, but if it did go that it would go in a big way. We had one vote for skiing it, one vote for bailing, and one abstention. We bailed.
But all was not lost! Armed with the permit we could detour into Puff Daddy and save the day. We had never skied this line before. Wow it was fantastic. Steep lines and plenty of space between the trees. We whooped and hollered our way down to the highway and wondered why we had never skied here before.
The next day we met with Tim, an old friend, roommate, and climbing buddy of mine from Montreal. Years ago we had scared ourselves silly together on some of our first alpine climbs. Sometimes I wonder how we survived. He now lives in Lethbridge and was on his way to a locum in Nelson.
Tim had never skied in Rogers Pass before so we were keen to show him a good day. The weather was awesome with blue sky from horizon to horizon. With memories of Puff Daddy fresh in our heads we decided to go back again. After climbing up Grizzly Shoulder for the umpteenth time this season we popped up onto the ridge. It was a stunning view and Tim was all smiles.
The day was young and we decided to do a couple of laps higher up before dropping into Puff Daddy proper. The skiing was great and thank goodness it was because the descent down Puff Daddy was a complete fiasco!
Oh man I don't know where we went wrong. We thrashed through trees, skidded down dodgy gullies, and crashed in the crusty snow. It basically just sucked. We were desperately trying to find the brilliant line that we had skied only 24 hours before. The smile was long gone from Tim's face.
I was convinced that we were too far left so we kept traversing to the right thinking we'd eventually find the good skiing, but it eluded us.
Eventually we came across a creek and heard some voices. Peering through the trees we saw several people descending a well worn path. We were completely bewildered. Where the heck were all these people coming from in the middle of nowhere?
Then the truth dawned on us. We had traversed so far to the right that we had reached the main uptrack leading into the Connaught Drainage. We couldn't believe it. Even now, sitting at home typing this, I'm not sure how we screwed it up so badly.
I'm sure it'll all seem pretty funny...eventually. Thankfully we have a GPS track from the first run. This is how Puff Daddy is supposed to be skied...
Up to the pass on Friday. Overnight the wind was howling. On the avalanche report the next day we read that it had reached 140kmh. I'd believe it; the snapping of the flags at the Visitor Centre sounded like rapid fire gun shots.
No permits again on Saturday morning so we decided to stay in the Connaught Drainage rather than driving back to the Bostock or Asulkan trailheads. Ideally we would have skied up towards Ursus or Bruins or something but we were wary of crossing all of the avalanche run outs. Instead the four of us (Nick, Fred, and us two) started by climbing up the Cheops ridge and then skiing down the Hour Glass. We then crossed over the creek and did a run on Grizzly Shoulder. After that it was still early so we scurried across the Grizzly slide path and had a run in the Teddy Bear Trees. When all was said and done we'd climbed over 1600 meters on the day. That's a lot for us.
The snow was good but not fantastic. Overall there was about 70cm of new snow. At higher elevations this was on top of a lurking crust that would occasionally send the unwary telemarker head-over-heels. At lower elevations the new snow was lying on top of the hoar frost layer we've been hearing so much about. On the mellow terrain below the hour glass, where it had been exposed to the wind, the snow had compressed into a slab. We saw shooting cracks that traveled for 30 or 40 meters as the snow settled with a loud "whumph". We were able to trigger small remote sloughs too. Fun stuff.
As I write this on Tuesday the forecast is again calling for freezing levels to reach mountain top this week. Man, what a weird season it's been.
We had a chat with Luc at the Rogers Pass Visitors Center on Saturday morning. He had a few good stories to relate that spoke volumes about the current avalanche conditions in the area.
The first, and the most pressing as far as we were concerned, was that Saturday was the 12th day in row that no permits were to be available for backcountry travel. Another was that during mid-week the control crews had fired five successive Howitzer rounds into the same slope without generating a result. They then moved on to the next firing location when the slope released on its own and ran down to the highway.
Tree skiing for us then! And off to McGill Shoulder we headed. We skied with Nick from Revelstoke for the first time. Blue skies and warm temperatures. It seemed more like April than the middle of January. Man it was great to see the sun and to feel some warmth on our faces. A nice change from Kelowna where it has been clagged in for weeks now.
We took it easy and did a couple of laps in the small clearings on skiers left of the two main avalanche paths beginning at about 1950 meters. McGill is a good option on low visibility days and we've often skied there under those conditions. It was a real treat to be there on such a nice clear day. Almost like being there for the first time. It became seriously hot. Snow was sloughing off the trees and snowballing down the slopes.
It's been a strange winter so far. In many ways we feel like it hasn't even really begun yet. I hope things settle down soon.
Photo: Nick
And check out these photos of the CPR Mainline taken last week near Rogers Pass (thanks Steve).
Unfortunately there's no new footage. Just lots of older video cobbled together to make us look good. Well, sorta good anyway.
But why no new footage? Ah glad you asked.
We're in the market for a new camera. Our current camera is a Sony DSC-P92. It's just a simple point-and-shoot digital, several years old. It has served us very well but I dropped it down a scree slope last summer and it just hasn't been the same since. Actually it's a wonder the poor thing still works at all.
We've considered a video camera but we also want to shoot stills. My understanding is that most video cameras can also shoot stills but that the resolution isn't nearly as good as with a regular camera. And there's no way I'm going to carry one of each.
Any suggestions?
Here's the wish list: - AA batteries - video @ 30fps and 640x480 resolution - viewfinder (or an LCD that is actually usable in bright light) - >3x optical zoom - zoom while shooting video (dreaming?)
We spent five days skiing in The Pass over the holidays. 70cm of new snow fell while we were there which made for some tetchy avalanche conditions. We took it easy and stayed in the conservative terrain at McGill Shoulder, Teddy Bear Trees, Flat Creek, Grizzly Shoulder, and Ursus Trees. But we also heard of people skiing bigger stuff like Video Peak. We were mystified at that. Are they nuts for skiing it or are we nuts for avoiding it?
Two days were spent with MB on a sort of custom avalanche course which we had organized for just Brenda and myself. Time well spent. It had been a long time since either of us had brushed up on our avalanche training.
Some highlights of our trip...
The New Years's eve bash at the hotel was full-on.
Cold! The temperature one morning was -22C outside and -18 inside (that is, inside the van). It was a severe test of my sleeping bag and down duvet combination. The moisture from cooking and breathing produced a hard layer of verglas on just about everything.
The highway was closed one night for avalanche control as the military boys wheeled out their Howitzers. The boom of the guns and the roar of the avalanches echoed up and down the valley. I think they were shooting at the Herdman Couloir on Mt. MacDonald which was just east of where we were parked.
We explored two areas which were new to us. The south side of Flat Creek provided some good tree skiing. Unfortunately the lower third of the descent to the valley floor was diabolical! The snow pack is still relatively low and the forest floor was choked with fallen logs. Character building stuff. We also took what was for us a new line from Grizzly Shoulder. We went up and over the top and then skied down almost directly on top of the ridge to the valley bottom. Very tight tree skiing in super deep snow. I need to become a better tele skier for that stuff. Parallel turns ruled the day for me. Aye it's a slippery slope.
MB and Brenda on Grizzly Shoulder
Looking towards the Illecillewaet from Grizzly Shoulder
