A tour where we were never quite sure if we were in exactly the right place, but at least the weather was nice. We went up the hill, and skied down again, and the snow was rubbish (breakable crust), so we didn’t feel inclined to ski up again.
Dist: 24km. Elevation gain: 1280m. Elevation loss: 1280m. Max elevation 3203m.
We were quite happy with the fact we managed our backwards traverse of the Wapta. But as we drove home again, we realised the one thing that bothered us was that we never managed to get to the top of any mountains. So one week on, the original Wapta Icefields Reverse Traverse team re-assembled once more to make an ascent of Mount Gordon.
As we were getting things together in the carpark we were astounded at how many other people were tumbling out of cars and skiing out across Bow Lake. There were hoards! It wasn’t even the weekend!
We were chatting to the group parked next to us when our suspicions began to be raised. It was Amy who asked them.
“Would you be the Gay Christian Telemark Association by any chance?”
And they were! We had met the Gay Christian Telemark Association! They were heading up to Peyto Hut for their annual pilgrimage (and they let us know that they weren’t gay or christians, “You’re not are you?” they inquired).
So we fought our way through the hoards and started the ascent to Bow Hut, which was all fairly straightforward. Once we reached the hut we stopped for a snack, and then headed on up. We were realising how lucky we’d been with the weather on our traverse. Today there was a horribly cold wind, the view was largely obscured by drifting clouds and mistiness, and as we got out onto the glacier we were being constantly attacked by the gritty wind. So we slogged on and on and up.
We finally curved around the enormous rock and up to the summit of Mount Gordon. The wind continued to be cold and throw snow at us, and the drifting whiteness let us catch only glimpses of what we could tell should have been an awesome view. Oh well.
So we skiied down and down on the horribly wind-affected snow. Then down onto slushier snow, and a high speed zoom through the packed snow in the canyon, and a final skate out across Bow Lake.
And then there was hot chocolate – ridiculously delicious hot chocolate – from the Num Ti Jah Lodge, as we rested on chairs made out of antlers.
Peyto Hut – Peyto Lake. 10km. 550m altitude lost. 4hrs.
This morning was another sleep-in morning, especially as it looked so cloudy and miserable outside. It had been quite windy overnight as well, which would mean unpleasant wind-affected snow to ski on.
After some extended lazing around, and a very slow breakfast (included a nice cup of tea) we wandered out towards Mt Rhondda, decided the snow was a bit rubbish and there was no visibility so there was no point skiing to the top of the mountain, and just did a run down from where we were.
I was unimpressed with the snow, and Alex wanted to dig a hole, so Amy went off and did another run while Alex occupied himself with digging and I occupied myself with watching.
He dug down to the glacier underneath – over 2.5 metres below the surface.
We all hopped in the hole and confirmed that there was indeed a glacier in it, then hopped out again, filled in the hole, and skiied back to the hut for lunch.
My ski had been feeling a bit odd, and when I took it off at the hut I noticed the binding was a bit wiggly. We unscrewed it from the ski, and realised that two of the screws holding it to the ski had sheared off. Well this was a bit unfortunate. The only allen key we had with us was too rubbish to loosen any of the other screws, so we only had two to work with. Luckily K2 telemark skis have more than one set of insets in them, so you have the option to place your binding in two different locations on the ski. So I reattached the binding a little further forward, with one screw at the front, one at the back, and hoped it would hold.
After that issue had prolonged our lunch, we set off into the white. Visibility wasn’t particularly terrible, it just wasn’t particularly good either. As we started heading downhill, I spent as much of my time skiing on one leg as I could, trying to avoid applying much weight or twisting forces to my gimpy binding.
We got off the glacier, and then it was skis off as we started hiking out over the moraine. A quick explore around the glacial research huts, and then we kept hiking – eventually giving in on the idea of carrying our skis, and just shoving them in our packs, as we kept crossing from snow to rock to snow to dirt.
We got our first glimpse of Peyto Lake, then it was a steep descent down to reach it – done mostly on foot by me, not wanting to risk my binding.
So, we were back in the land of trees again. Skiing across the lake it was odd to have a frame of reference to make our progress so noticeable again. Skiing across the lake I decided that even with a frame of reference, the lake seemed unnecessarily long and irritating to ski across. I don’t mind skiing uphill, and I don’t mind skiing downhill, but this shuffling across long flat surfaces just gets a bit tedious.
Luckily, the tedium finally ended, and there was just the final kilometre through the trees to get to the car. It was an interesting steep and winding track through trees, which wasn’t as always as easy to follow as we would have thought, but after some interesting close encounters with trees, we finally popped out at the car park. Back to civilisation. Boo! I was secretly hoping we were just going to end up at another hut, freshly stocked with food for us, so we could continue our journey.
Bow Hut – Peyto Hut. 6km. 300m altitude gain – 150m altitude lost. 4hrs.
We were laughing as we got up this morning. Only 6km! With only 300m elevation gain! This was a rest day! So we slept in until the hut was nearly empty, and by the time we finished breakfast (for me: pancakes, porridge, some beef jerky and a snickers bar… two full days of fully loaded skiing can make a girl hungry) we nearly had the place to ourselves.
It was a beautiful sunny day as we meandered up the slope back up onto the glacier from Bow Hut. Our pace was slow and casual as we stopped to snack and take photos as often as we wanted – ah, luxury.
We tossed up the idea of making a side trip up Mt Rhondda, but decided against it due to… well, laziness perhaps. And the fact that this was supposed to be a rest day, we were kind of looking forward to spending an afternoon lazing around.
It didn’t take long to finish all the climbing we were going to do that day, then it was a gentle, mostly flat cruise across the icefield.
It wasn’t long until the valley containing Peyto Hut popped into sight. We cruised down towards the hut, enjoying the turns down this gentle slope.
After another final cruel uphill (what is it with these huts? downhill all the way there, but just a final 100 metres to actually reach the hut, which means you have to reach the terrible realisation that you have to stop and put your skins on, when all you want to do is reach the hut and sit down)… but after another final cruel uphill we were relaxing at the hut – which had a patio! It was also lovely and spacious inside, with enormous windows, and noone else there!
We spread out our things to dry, lazed in the sun, took a series of very silly jumping photos, and perused some of the reading matter we’d availed ourselves with from the hut. As it eventually started to cool down a bit, and we probably needed to get out of the sun anyway, we made a move to the table just inside the hut.
Lazing around and having a slow dinner, we admired the view and read the hut log. We learnt about the annual April visits of the Gay Christian Telemark Association and wondered if they would be coming this weekend. At 7pm another couple turned up at the hut, so we no longer had it to ourselves, but it was still a quiet relaxing evening, as we sat planning to ski up a peak tomorrow.
Scott Duncan Hut – Bow Hut. 17km. 750m altitude gain – 950m altitude lost. 10.5hrs.
After the long day yesterday we decided to sleep in for a bit… which meant not getting up until after it started getting light at 6am. I stumbled outside and looked around. A sea of snow and glaciers and mountains looked back at me. Everything was bathed in dawn light, and looked incredibly beautiful and remote.
Pottering around the hut getting ready, we didn’t feel too bad, and decided to keep heading onwards. If we ended up feeling hideously sore we could turn back. We flew down from the hut out across onto the glacier at 8.15am, roping up as we started heading uphill. It probably wasn’t necessary, but we really didn’t know the terrain, and we figured it couldn’t hurt. Plus more practise with roped up travel wasn’t a bad thing.
Our first goal was to reach Balfour High Col. We could see it from Scott Duncan Hut, and it seemed so close for a point that was several kilometres away. Travel conditions were good though – we were still trail breaking, but the snow wasn’t sticking to our skins now, and it was a pleasant clear day. Not windy, not too hot, not too cold. We were surprised to discover that we really weren’t feeling too sore, and could easily keep up a decent pace as we gradually reeled in the distance between us and the Col.
As we started climbing up onto the bench before the Col, we ran into a couple of other groups, heading towards Scott Duncan from Balfour – hurrah! We wouldn’t be breaking trail anymore! Although our run of isolation had now ended, human contact had been made.
We stopped on top of Balfour High Col to look at the road ahead, and decide on a route. We had two options. We could pass underneath Mount Balfour, along a bench with seracs looming over us on one side and great open crevasses lurking beneath, or we could turn downhill earlier, and weave our way down a narrow path between a rock and the crevasses, and then turn across to the hut. Everyone who had come up that morning had gone for Option A. The path looked clear and obvious, and we’d have the advantage of speed to help us clear the serac danger-zone quickly. We went for Option A, but decided to stay roped up.
Through necessity, we quickly got the hang of skiing downhill with ropes on. I was last on the rope, after being deemed the one least likely to fall over. We hurtled past the seracs as fast as we could, discovering that trying to stay in control with heavy packs and tired legs wasn’t as easy as it sounded. I’d almost prefer to have been going uphill. Convincing tired legs to keep going, we turned down the last slope, then pushed across the short uphill section to reach Balfour Hut.
There were hoards of people milling around the hut – well, we knew it was booked out that night, otherwise we would have been staying there. Balfour Hut was our second escape point in case of extreme exhaustion. If we really had to we could beg for a spot on the floor. But although we were all feeling pretty tired, and the downhill to reach the hut had taken longer than planned, we weren’t feeling that desperate. It was 2.30pm, so we still had another 6 and a half hours of daylight. And if necessary, headlamps. Besides, we’d finished the longer section – 10km down, 7km to go, and the uphill was nice and gradual. A quick lunch, and we pushed onwards.
The ski up Vulture Glacier was indeed gradual, but we slowly started to melt as the afternoon sun reflected at us from all angles. On rest breaks I’d dive my face into the snow in an attempt to cool down, and eat handfuls of snow to keep my mouth from drying out. Thankfully it started to cloud over though, and as Amy set a fast pace up the glacier, we marched and marched into the clouds.
Counting steps and counting steps, staying roped up we made our way up to Olive-St. Nicholas Col. It seemed like we would be at the top in just 500 steps… maybe another 200… another 100… another 100. With the clouds came snow and a cold wind; my ear started filling with snow and feeling numb, where just a couple of hours earlier it had been overheating in the sun. I pulled my neckwarmer up to cover it. Convincing tired limbs to keep moving, we finally reached the top. The afternoon storm was clearing, the sun was getting low in the sky, and the Wapta Icefields were spread out in front of us, mountains sitting in a sea of glacier.
We unroped and started flying down towards Bow Hut. I got stuck with the rope (perhaps I volunteered), and my tired legs protested as I turned down the hill. The snow was gorgeous, but my legs refused to appreciate it, as I struggled to keep a consistent snow plough going.
In the end we stumbled into the Hut at about 7.45pm, revelling in the luxury of being able to take our skis off, and not having a pack on. And it wasn’t even dark yet! Bow Hut is like a mansion of huts. There’s a separate wing for the bunks, another for the huge kitchen area, and the toilets, instead of being in a little outhouse in the snow, were just off the corridor joining the other two areas.
We dropped our things on a bunk then thankfully collapsed in the kitchen to cook dinner, feeling smug as we heard people who had just started the traverse talking fearfully about what a long day it was going to be tomorrow, having to ski all the way to Balfour Hut. A few people asked us where we’d come from, and were amazed. But honestly, it wasn’t that bad, we didn’t get up super early, and we definitely weren’t travelling super fast. It’s only 17km even if it is with a heavy pack. Now Wapta Traverse in a day, THAT would be a challenge…