Rohr lives up to name. Everyone surprised.
“Ugh! That Whiskey Jack ate my loogie” Cody sat on the remnants of the column of snow that he’d dug out to do a Snow Stability test. A persistent weak layer that had formed near the beginning of the month was lingering. The column had serendipitously split just high enough to make for a nice high perch to sit on as he scarfed down some calories. Spring joked “You look like a King on his throne…yeah… *low voice* Winter is Coming!“. Much to her chagrin nobody, but I, got her Game Of Thrones reference so she let it slide, no pun intended. Cody, living up to his net nom de plume as “The Camel”, hocked a loogie into the snow beside him. Within seconds it froze solid, within a few seconds more a keen eyed Gray Jay swooped down and flew away with that frozen morsel to a nearby branch to devour it. Slightly disgusted but amused by this scene it had at least taken our thoughts away from the weather for a moment. A low ceiling of cloud hung close above us, winds were picking up and it was intermittently hailing and snowing. We’d made it just above the treeline and from here on out we’d be climbing further and further into the clouds and the reduced visibility they promised. This wasn’t the Spring day I had imagined. This felt more like a day during the depths of Winter. Once again this troupe had been caught on the hop in the unpredictable weather of the shoulder seasons. We packed up again and continued on. I couldn’t help but laugh. The last time the four of us, myself, Spring, Ben and Cody, had been out in the mountains together was last Fall. We had attempted, and reached, the summit of Mount Frosty. Back then we had gauged for warmer Fall weather. What we got however was the birth pangs of Winter, with temperatures below -15’c, a biting wind, and a fair amount of fresh snow on the ground. Frosty had lived up to its name, it was in fact very frosty. Fast forward through Winter and finally, in the beginning of Spring, all our schedules aligned so that we could get out again together. In town the weather had been warm, it hadn’t snowed at sea level in months and, at times, it felt more like Summer weather than Spring. So, when I was packing for Mount Rohr, I packed for warm, Spring conditions. What I got however was the death throes of Winter. As we traversed above two lakes heading to the base of Mount Rohr we’d get...
Skins, Skis and Aching Knees
“I’m concentrating on Ice Climbing this Winter, not Skiing” I foolishly uttered those words to myself last Fall believing I would hold fast in my convictions. I truly believe that if you want to get good at something, not just passably capable, you need to pick one pursuit per season. I’ve consistently broken my own rule in this regard. I’m like that dog in the film “UP” that has all the intentions in the world of doing one thing only, until SQUIRREL! I see a SQUIRREL! Coming into Winter last year I wanted to work solely on my Ice Climbing. It was all going well for a while, we took a 5 day ice climbing course in Canmore, Alberta and we tried to go Ice Climbing near Lillooet, BC for a few weekends but the shiny new skis of my friends kept glinting in the corner of my eyes. You see, when I’d chosen to focus on Ice Climbing, my circle of friends had not received the memo. They’d all chosen to focus on learning to backcountry ski. I staved off looking at that Squirrel for a few trips, whilst I wallowed through the powder in my démodé snowshoes. But eventually I couldn’t take it any more. I caved. MEC, our outdoor gear mecca, was clearing out of all their Ski gear for their Spring stock and had slashed their prices. Myself and my other half went in and bought everything we needed; skis, skins, boots and bindings. We already had ski poles and avalanche gear but still, it was a big chunk of change to get going. After the dust settled and we had our newly acquired Alpine Touring Ski setup laid out in our spare bedroom cum walk-in-gear-closet we wondered “now what?” Our friends, who had been touring on their skis all winter, invited us on an overnight trip to attempt a couloir on the East face of Atwell Peak. We wouldn’t be skiing this gully, only skinning up to it and then boot packing our way up to the summit. Nevertheless, just getting to the campsite below the base of Atwell, ~32 kms return with ~2000m’s of elevation gain, would be a big undertaking, seeing as this would be our first time in the backcountry on touring skis. We were apprehensive but I knew that the first half of the route is a common trail for beginner backcountry skiers, leading to the Elfin Lakes Hut. If we felt like we were way out of our depth by the hut we could always temper our plans, stay at the Hut for the night and spend the next day practicing our backcountry...
I a go to Great Bear: The French Connection
On Family day weekend, 2013, myself and a surly bunch of fellow backcountry recreationists spent a cold, somewhat windy night atop a mountain we had no intentions to be anywhere near. This somewhat serendipitous weekend occurred thanks in large part to my French friend, Mr. Adrien T. (drumroll please) What follows will be less an account of the events from that weekend and more the experiences I had and have gladly had in Adrien’s company. Mountains have the capacity to make people a little crazy in my opinion. If you’ve got even a slightly obsessive or addictive personality then you are going to find a way to feed it in the Mountains. You have the peakbaggers who just have to “collect ‘em all”, the adrenaline junkies, the First Ascentists, those who count every foot of elevation they’ve ever climbed, those who constantly need to push their physical and mental limits (I’d count myself among these) and then you have your Completists, to name a few. I’d define Adrien as a bit of a Completist. He sees beauty in order, organization and structure. How this translates to the Mountains is lists. Lists of peaks, lakes, trails, routes. There is a cornucopia of guidebooks out there on most subjects mountain related. Some use them as a reference, while others see them as a challenge. The challenge to visit all of the respective locales in these books and tick them all off. He’s certainly not alone. I’ve met many people who do this. When I have informed fellow hikers on the trails that I am using a certain book as a reference I’ve been oft posed the question: “how many have you done?”. I have no clue, but I do see the appeal of keeping track, if only to see how I have personally been progressing in my ability and experience. Adrien is working on a few lists at the moment and most trips that he plans tend to be chosen in such a way as to tick off at least one of the places they reference. Which is why it came as some surprise last weekend when he made us aware of a trip he wanted to do that wasn’t in any guidebook that I know of. He wanted to visit a peak accessed from the Coquihalla Hwy named Mount Henning. Adrien organizes like a mutha hubba, I mean he usually has it dialed in up to 11 when it comes to working out distances, weather, gear lists… etc. So when he said he wanted to do a few mellow peaks to do some testing of his new AT Ski setup I agreed. Saturday morning arrived, and in my typically Irish fashion, I was running...
