Hermit

There was an interesting graph posted on the bulletin board at the Visitors Centre on Saturday. Something like this:



It showed height of snowpack vs time as measured at the Fidelity Research Station near Rogers Pass. The upper line shows the record high snowpack recorded, the lower line shows the record low, and the middle line shows this year. It all looked so promising back in November!

We haven't been backcounty skiing for a couple of weeks now; lying low while the avalanche hazard has gone through the roof. We finally ventured forth with Fred into Hermit Meadows on Saturday. It was blazing hot on these south facing slopes and we suffered on the way up.





It took a supreme effort to toil for that last long hour up to Tupper Ridge. The snow was still cold behind Tupper and we had one good run on the gentle north facing bowl.



Up to the ridge again and then back the way we came to battle the wet grabby snow with gritted teeth. It wasn't too bad at first, but as we descended lower we got into areas that had already been in the shade for a couple of hours that had developed a nasty crust. Oh it was diabolical. The worst conditions I've ever had in Rogers Pass bar none! Hard crust on top with wet and sometime bottomless rotten snow underneath. It was hopeless. We had to literally side slip most of the way down; all attempts to turn resulted in an immediate punishing crash. I shudder just to think back.

Ah well. We picked our way down and arrived at the car at dusk, alive and well to fight another day.

Sapphire Col Traverse (Lily Glacier)

We skied up the Asulkan Valley last Saturday morning (Feb 13th). Usually when we come this way we're going to the hut with overnight packs; this time it was a pleasure to be traveling light and moving quickly.

We followed a well-worn skin track through the mousetrap and then began breaking trail up to climbers left of the cleaver. The forecast wasn't great so we were trying to leave some options open. We could come back the way we came; or we could sneak over the top of the cleaver to the Dome Glacier; or, more ambitiously, we could ski over Sapphire Col and exit out the Lily Glacier and Loop Brook (we had shuttled a car just in case).

Several hours later, with our heads down into the biting wind, we made the last long pull across the upper glacier to the col. When we arrived the visibility was crapping out and we couldn't see the steep slope that drops down to the Lily. Resigned to returning the way that we had just come, we ducked into the hut for a hot drink and something to eat. The respite from the wind made the tiny hut seem cozy and warm at first but it didn't take long for the cold to get into our bones and we figured we'd better get a move on.

By the time we looked outside it had cleared just barely enough to see down to the Lily. Time was getting on but we thought we'd be okay if we didn't dawdle. Seemed like a good plan at the time! Down we went.

We soon realized that this slope wasn't exactly the most stable piece of terrain we'd seen today. It took an age to pick our way down. Then the tedious haul across the flats seemed to take forever as these things do when you're in a rush. Finally the Lily started steepening into the long gentle run that we knew from our only previous visit. But something was a little different this time...

Crevasses. Or, more precisely, semi-bridged-difficult-to-see-in-the-fading-light crevasses stretching across much of the glacier. Our previous visit had been in April but here we were in February, hence the encroaching darkness, and in a year with a below average snow pack.

We hummed and hawed. We debated options. We went left. We went right. We checked the time. A lot. We picked our way down. It was by the light of three headlamps that we arrived back at the car.

Not a single photo; all three of us forgot our cameras.

March 7th: Just found a photo on Brenda's camera that she took when we got back to the car.

Zoa Peak and Manning Park

Wes and Tina, who we met last weekend at Baldy, invited us to join them at Manning Park on Sunday. We were keen to ski at a new place but less keen on the 5:00am start that it required. So to break up the drive we went to Zoa Peak on Saturday which in a roundabout way allowed us to get to Manning on Saturday night with minimal extra driving. Zoa is at "B" and Manning is at "C" on this map.



Google Street View has recently become available in our area. This is the Zoa trailhead in summer. The snowy peaks on the left are Nak and Thor Thar. Zoa is the rather unimpressive looking ridge on the right.


View Larger Map

Zoa is an okay destination for an easy non-committing kind of day. The north facing slopes off the summit only provide about 200m of vertical, maybe less. We saw some neat hoar frost on the trees on the way up.



The ski out on the road cut can be either a mellow slide home or diabolical survival ski. Today was the latter on re-frozen snowmobile tracks. Yech.

Continuing on our way we eventually found the Cambie Creek trailhead in Manning and settled down in the parking lot for the night. In the morning we were surprised to find some sort of outdoor education camp set up just on the other side of the parking lot snowbank.



As we were having breakfast they trooped by en masse to go watch the Olympic torch pass by on the highway. Meh. I'm fed up with the Olympics.

Joined by Sandy, Wes, Sid, and Tina, we skied up the Fat Dog ski trail for several kilometers before heading up a small knoll. There was some mellow skiing from the top and we just enjoyed being out somewhere new.

I'm not sure this location would be worth another 3 hour drive from Kelowna, not when we could be in Rogers Pass with the same amount of driving. But as always it was just good to be out skiing.

Mount Baldy

We went lift skiing at Silverstar on Friday night for 5 bucks. Good deal eh? But then we spent many times that on beer at the pub afterward. Mmm... Back Hand of God.

On Sunday we tagged along on an ACC trip to Mount Baldy, a relatively small ski resort south of Kelowna quite near to the US border.



It's an interesting hill with an old time feel much like the small resorts in the Eastern Townships near Montreal. A one ride lift ticket can be had with minimal fuss for $13 allowing quick access to the summit.

We skied some really gentle terrain. It was the wise choice given the size of the group and the skiing level, but the slow pace and the limited vertical left me with that "mall funk", a pervading feeling of lethargy and sapped energy which usually occurs whenever I spend any time inside a shopping mall.

Nevertheless we enjoyed our day; we got to see a new place and met some very nice folks who we may ski with next weekend on an exploratory trip to Manning Park.

Bruins Pass and Sifton Traverse

Weeks of persistent valley cloud in the Okanagan had left us craving sunlight. Saturday had a promising forecast and as we toured up the Connaught drainage that promise became a reality; bright sunshine warmed both our faces and our souls.



We climbed up Bruins Ridge and had a short run down the cold and shady north side before climbing back up and skiing down 8812 bowl.



The avalanche control teams sometimes go through an exercise of "ranging" their guns. This was going on full-tilt Saturday afternoon as the air was rent apart by the BOOM! of the Howitzers and the WHOOSH! of shells flying through the air. One can't help but feel a visceral response to such power and potential destruction despite knowing perfectly well that they weren't firing anywhere near us. We occasionally smiled at each other a bit uneasily.

Fred and Steve joined us on Sunday for a trip up and over Sifton Col and back down Hermit Meadows. The day started out brilliantly again and then clouded over and snowed a bit by mid-morning, but the visibility held and we enjoyed the 1400m run back down Hermit Meadows.

This is the descent just below Sifton Col. I remember this gave us the heebie-jeebies the first time we skied it. Didn't seem so bad today.

Fairy Meadows

Fairy Meadows for 400 bucks over the holidays? Wow that's cheap, I thought. Someone is going to get a screaming deal there.

Wait a minute...I'm "someone". That could be me!

So to make a long story short (since interactions with the ACC often lead to long stories and this was no exception) it turned out that yes, we are in fact "some people", and we found ourselves goggling the scenery on the first flight into Fairy Meadows of the 2009 ski season. To we lucky chosen few went the dubious honour of several tedious hours of digging; hut, outhouse, chimney, woodshed, and sauna. What a job.





Nevertheless we did get some turns in on our first day and thus began a super week. There was a group of six from Washington and Oregon, three from Golden/Canmore, and another group of eight, including the ACC work crew, also from Canmore. They were an eclectic group of great people and we really enjoyed everyone's company. I knew one person, Helen, from a previous trip to Fairy Meadows in the summer of 2000 when I was taking a course and Helen was one of the guides.

Brenda and I spent the first few days skiing on our own. We'll admit to feeling a little overwhelmed at first; we were less familiar with the terrain and it seemed like everyone was charging all over the place doing these huge lines while we were pottering around trying to get a handle on things. But we found our bearings and in retrospect it was good to be making our own decisions over those first few days, and we enjoyed ourselves.



The week settled into that familiar and pleasurable hut routine of a long day of skiing followed by a long evening (especially this time of year) of cooking, eating, unwinding in the sauna, and working through the alcohol supply with some determination before being overtaken by utter exhaustion.



It was back to reality last week; first with work, and then getting waylaid with a nasty cold as the activities of the past few weeks finally caught up with me. Although we only returned from the hut a week a go it already seems like a distant memory.



More photos here.

Bonney Moraines

Saturday morning at the Visitor Centre and we were hemming and hawing with indecision. The morning forecast had changed significantly from the day before; increasing cloudiness and flurries rather than blue skies. What to do? Go up into the alpine but risk getting stuck in flat light, or ski the trees where visibility wasn't going to be an issue but possibly miss out on the chance to get up really high? We chose the trees and headed for Loop Brook.

In the end there was a mixed bag of weather and human nature being what it is we questioned our decision all day! The valley fog lifted, returned again, and then burned off completely to leave some patches of blue sky peaking out from behind the clouds.

Ross Peak


Oh man it took forever to get up into the moraines. I haven't been cycling to work for a few weeks and I'm sure I felt it in my legs breaking trail. Thankfully Nick did most of the hard work.

We spent quite a while doing some compression tests and a Rutschblock. Not that we had reason to suspect the slope but the snowpack has certainly become more complex over the last couple of weeks and we wanted to get a handle on things (btw we were getting moderate results in the 40-55cm range which seems to confirm what the professionals are seeing).

The skiing was really good; wind-effected powder that exploded in chunks all around us. We did a couple of runs and then thrashed around a bit in the trees getting back to the "Elephants Trunk". I think descending via the Lily Glacier moraines on far skiers right is definitely the better option. It was nearly dark by the time we got back to the cars. Not a spectacular day by most measures but any day out in the mountains with friends is always a good one. A veggie burger at the Nomad and we all headed home. Some photos here.

Malakwa

Malakwa on Saturday with a group from the Alpine Club.

Er, yeah, that's about it really. I'm completely devoid of content material. No witty anecdotes. No little tidbits of information. Nothing. I haven't even got my own photos. Here's one from Nick:



Worst post ever...

Ursus Trees and Puff Daddy

Ursus Trees on Saturday with Steve and Nick. We left the parking lot at the same time as several large groups and there must have been 25 people strung out along the track. It was crazy. Thankfully for everyone a lot of folks went up Grizzly Shoulder and others peeled off to various destinations along the way until eventually we were breaking trail up Ursus Minor Ridge. Coming down it was the same story as it has been all season -- great skiing. We headed back early in order to be at the Visitor Centre in time for a "Winter Permit Orientation Session".

Ah yes, the bureaucracy of skiing in Roger Pass. There have been many changes to the permit system since last winter. One is that there is now an Annual Winter Permit that allows entry into the Winter Restricted Areas without having to obtain a daily permit. To get the pass you need to attend one of the orientation sessions. The permit is associated to your vehicle by license plate and has two parts: one with your photo on it that you carry on your person, and the other that you leave in your car.

It's hard to say at this point whether or not this is an actual improvement for skiers or if it's just a sop to the powers-that-be. On the one hand it will be convenient to not have to line up for a daily permit when intending to ski in a permit area (now officially called a "Winter Restricted Access" area). But that will only be the case when every member of the party has an Annual Winter Permit since those without an Annual Permit still require a daily permit. As well, the Winter Restricted Access areas will only be pronounced open or closed at around 7:30 each morning. Since there is limited cell phone coverage in the area (depends on your carrier) you pretty much have to be at the Visitors Centre to get the information anyway.

Dystopian nightmare? Remains to be seen. At least they're not charging us for any of these additional permits yet.

On Sunday Brenda and I went up Grizzly Shoulder with the idea of skiing Puff Daddy back down to the highway. We'd been there twice before; one time was great and the other time it was a fiasco. This time it was a little of both!

At first we recognized the terrain and enjoyed some nice skiing, but soon we were drawn into a steep gnarly gully and we realized that all was not well with the world. We were pretty committed at that point but the fear of a repeat fiasco drove us to put our skins on and thrash back up through some cliffs in the hope of finding a better way.

To make a long story short...

Yay! We found the twin slide paths that provide excellent skiing and popped out on the highway between the Visitors Centre and the Hermit trailhead.



I think the moral of the story is that it's pretty hard to go too far to skiers left on Puff Daddy.

Last thing of note. The hotel is much improved again this year (not that we stayed there, but we will). The buffet is cheaper, there's a well thought out dinner menu, and the pub fare looks great.

Alas there's much less weirdness. I kinda miss the weirdness.

Moe: "Nobody wants to hang out in a dank pit no more."
Carl: "You ain't thinkin' of gettin' rid of the dank are you Moe?"
Moe: "Ah maybe I am."
Carl: "Oh but Moe! The dank, the dank!?"

Malakwa

Harsh 6:00am alarms ringing in the darkness. A freezing cold house since the heat hasn't come on yet. Groans from underneath the covers. Severe misgivings about about going skiing today.

Day trips to Malakwa start with a real...whimper.

This was our first trip to Malakwa since January 2008. Access is dependent upon the logging company plowing the access road and it wasn't maintained last year. The kilometer 15 pullout was jammed with a dozen vehicles by 9:30 so we continued on to around kilometer 16 and had the place to ourselves. There isn't as much open skiing as there is around 15k, but the tree skiing is excellent.

It's been an incredible start to the season. Two meters of snow at treeline in mid-November? Wow.

Après-ski drinkies at The Burner featured Mount Begbie's Attila the Honey. I'm no expert (Pat?) put this is a good beer.

No pictures (of beer or skiing). Camera on the fritz. Again.

Asulkan Cabin

The most uneventful start to the season ever?

No mud. No sticks or rocks. No cow patties. No goofing around on daft patches of machine-made snow. No doubting the sanity of trying to push in some early skiing.

We simply drove to the pass, climbed to the hut, skied in midseason-like snow, and went home. What could be easier? I don't get it. No complaints though. A terrific start.

ESE Ridge Mount Lady MacDonald

"Car died in Red Deer. Pick me up in Calgary?"

I was in Golden en route to Canmore when I received this text message from Ross. The extra driving between Canmore and Calgary and then back again, plus the delays in getting through the road construction between Golden and Banff, meant that it was getting late by the time we arrived at the Canmore Castle. We set our sights on the ESE Ridge of Lady MacDonald since it wouldn't require an alpine start. Something I'm always keen on anyway!

The approach begins on the edge of town and passes though the Cougar Canyon climbing area. The route has a few technical spots (5.5ish) and lots of exposed knife edge ridge scrambling. It generally follows the right skyline in this (admittedly poor) photo:



It's a fun route but it did seem a little tedious at times as the ridge scrambling is interrupted by loads of classic Rockies rubble, but it's definitely worth a go, even if only to climb a local Canmore landmark by a route other than the hiking trail.





We planned to do a climb the next day also. Sadly the fickle weather toyed with us. First we gave up on Mothers Day Buttress, then Kid Goat crag, and then were left thoroughly soaked by a hailstorm as we stood below the sport climbs in Cougar Canyon.

Miffed, we messed around with Ross's mountain bike at the town's little terrain park instead. This was quite successful actually. First, we managed not to hurt ourselves. Second, we managed to impress some local mountain bike gurus* by riding a hair-raising narrow wooden beam** from end to end.

*Local gurus were 10 years old (I asked)

**The track was a foot off the ground.

Balu Peak

We spent the weekend in Rogers Pass with the Okanagan section of the Alpine Club. The entire event was organized by Brenda with the idea being to get people out on some scrambles and hikes in the area and to have a potluck dinner on Saturday night. There were some familiar faces and many new faces too. It went really well.

On Saturday we took a small group up Balu Peak. Our original plan had been to climb Mount Avalanche but we discovered midweek that the Avalanche Crest trail had been closed because of damage from a big storm the previous week. In fact the entire Illecillewaet campground is closed at the moment. It's an impressive scene; there are dozens and dozens of huge trees down, their root systems, including giant boulders, thrust up into the air at crazy angles. We saw a concrete picnic table that had been smashed to smithereens under a 200 year old tree (yup, we counted the rings).

The route from Balu Pass is really just a scramble. Nevertheless it often feels a leap of faith to take on the role of a "leader" for something like this. Despite all precautions you can never quite know what you're getting into with people you've never met before! In the end it was a great group and a lot of fun. I think the route was what people expected and that everyone enjoyed themselves. Hopefully no one resents the 7:00am start :)

Balu Peak


Brian on the way up


Fresh snow on the summit


Brenda on the descent

Cathedral Park

The weather forecast over the Labour Day weekend called for rain on Saturday, rain on Sunday, and then just for a change, rain on Monday.

But we were planning to head further south, deep into the hot, dry, fruit growing region south of Keremeos. It's a desert down there, I mean how wet could it be? If it rained at all it would probably just sprinkle a bit at worst; an Okanagan rain that makes you consider a light sweater rather than a raincoat. So we decided to follow through with our plan and we hiked into the Wall Creek area of Cathedral Park to attempt the Grimface-Macabre-Matriarch Traverse.

And in the end the forecast was absolutely completely wrong.

It snowed instead.

Sigh.

Here I am at home now on a Tuesday evening, warm and dry, tapping away at the keyboard. Already the process of selective memory is taking hold.

So rather than having a good whinge about heavy packs, soaked feet, and freezing temperatures, I'll just say that we had a great trip. The weather swung wildly from warm and fall-like (however briefly) to full-on snow squalls and then back again seemingly within minutes. It made for a real study in contrasts; warm and cold, wet and dry, pleasant and grim, smiles and frowns.

I think the contrast between this video and just the one photo sums up our trip pretty well.

Canoeing on Okanagan Lake

We followed in the footsteps of our fellow local bloggers at Tread Lightly this weekend and made a short overnight canoe trip down Okanagan Lake. (We're not stalking you guys, honestly! It's just that great minds really do think alike.)

We put in near Okanagan Mountain Park, a 20 minute drive south from our place. The lake was crowded with noisy power boats and even noisier power boat occupants. They gawked in amazement at our incredible craft which moved silently through the water. "No engine?" they exclaimed. "But how do you tow inflatable water-weenies up and down the lake?".

Okay Brenda says this exchange didn't actually take place. Fine fine.

We enjoyed the paddle and found a nice spot to spend the night. As the evening progressed the number of boats dwindled and watched the sun set behind the hills on the western shore in peace and quiet. A great way to spend the weekend close to home.

Mount Sir Donald Northwest Ridge

Update July 2017:
Google killed the Picasaweb photo service so the photos in this post no longer click through to larger versions. Suck it Google. Here's an album containing the photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/NssTA3vKczyUGcm43

Ross and I have been hoping to climb Sir Donald for years. Schedules, weather, and motivation have all played a part in preventing us from ever setting foot on the mountain. This weekend the stars finally aligned and we climbed the northwest ridge on Saturday.

The NW Ridge of Sir Donald is one of those climbs that you hear a lot about, often for all the wrong reasons. Tales abound of unplanned overnights and epic descents. In fact we witnessed examples of both unfold on this very same weekend last year during one of our previous pseudo-attempts. The climb is listed in Steck and Roper's "Fifty Classic Climbs of North America" and attracts people from all over the world.

To make a long story short we reached the top in 5.5 hours. It was mainly 4th class exposed climbing with short pitches of 5th class. We simulclimbed with about 15m of rope between us and placed the odd piece of gear. You don't really need a rope for most of the climb but it seemed easier to just leave the rope on rather than switching back-and-forth when it was needed for a short section. There was a surprising amount of micro-route finding on the way up. This sounds a funny thing to say about a ridge climb (just follow the freakin' ridge!) but the features are so big that were constantly peaking around corners and checking out ledges to find the path of least resistance.





We topped out at around 11:00am and sat down for a minute to have a snack. Clouds were boiling up in the Beaver Valley on the east side of Sir Donald while the west side was completely clear. We headed south over the summit to find the west face bypass. This would lead us all the way back across the west face to a point on the NW ridge about 1/3 of the way below summit. The ridge is festooned (a great word!) with slings and back-off anchors all over the place and we used them liberally to make short rappels in between sections of frightening down climbing. We each had a few "yeash!" moments at the down climbing bits but eventually we found our way to the first of 12 bolted rap stations and from here we knew we had it made.





It was a loooong 6.5 hours down from the summit. At last we made the final rappel and hit terra firma. Still in good spirits we decided to spend another night at the picturesque bivy site rather than packing up and heading out right away. It's not like we needed an excuse though; look at this place, it's amazing.



In fact staying another night was doubly entertaining for me. It meant that Ross, who had somehow lost all of his cutlery on the hike in, had to eat another meal of soup and pasta using nothing but a pointy stick.

That's the great thing about climbing with Ross; it's usually not the climb itself that you remember the most afterwards.

Terminal Traverse

On Saturday, your guest blogger (Brenda) accompanied Andrew on the Terminal Traverse.

We left after work on Friday and slept at the Illecillewaet parking lot (yay van!). Saturday morning began portentously; the alarm did not go off as planned, and we got up at 4:40 instead of 4:00. Our bleary-eyed cereal consumption was marred by the fact that we had accidentally brought whipping cream, not milk. Undaunted, we set off at 5am.

The trip began with the hike to Perley Rock. It's a tiring 3-hour uphill grind, but Perley Rock itself is a scenic spot beside the glacier. A perfect place for a snack.



From Perley Rock, we continued up the snow and crossed a corner of the glacier to get to the base of the south ridge of South Terminal Peak. Here, Andrew leads your guest blogger jauntily up the glacier. Our route up is the right skyline.



At the base of the ridge, we stopped for a snack and got ourselves ready to climb. The route itself was not always obvious - there was a good deal of poking around, wondering where to go next. The rock was good, however, and the climbing generally fun.



It took longer than we expected, so we stopped for a snack half-way up.



We finally made it to the top of the South peak, and took a well-deserved snack break. We enjoyed ourselves until we realized that we had to get down somehow. This did not come as a surprise, but it did cause some concern, as the way down was not obvious. We weren't sure whether we wanted to go for the traverse to the north peak, so we descended the ledges of the West face in the general direction of the North peak. The way down, much like the way up, was not obvious. Maybe descending more directly from the peak would have been easier, it's hard to know.

Eventually we determined that it would be easier and simpler to just go over the North peak, so we started in that direction. At last, the route was easy to find, and having found our way we stopped for a snack.

The trip up and down North Terminal peak was mercifully straightforward. We took the fast exit down the snow slope, easily over the bergschrund and off the glacier in good time. It was a relief to get off the glacier and stop for a much-needed snack just as a few raindrops started to fall.



All that remained was the bone-jarring hike back down the Perley Rock trail. Judging by the summit register, South Terminal doesn't get climbed very often. It was a long day, but a fun climb. At 8pm we made it back to the van. We found a place to camp, had dinner, and went to sleep.

Total ascent/descent - 2100m
Guidebook time - 12-14 hours
Brenda & Andrew time - 15 hours
Snacks consumed - 2 PB&J sandwiches, 2 cheese sandwiches, 2 pastries, several granola bars
Photos: https://goo.gl/photos/2atHHySuQF1QQpcE7

West Ridge Mount Tupper

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.

Skyladder, Mount Andromeda

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.