Sherbrooke Lake – Scott Duncan Hut. 12km. 1300m altitude gain. 12hrs.
After leaving Canmore not long after 5am, we were driving up the Icefields Parkway in the snow to drop off one of the cars by Peyto Lake. Back at West Louise Lodge in Amy’s van (with it’s trusty worn summer tyres that made it somehow), we got everything together and started skiing up the trail at about 9am. The trail up to Sherbrooke Lake was a bit steep, but covered in fresh snow it was fairly easy going and easy to follow.
We crossed the lake and meandered up along Sherbrooke Creek – a lovely sunny day so far. It was all going well until we had to veer up into the trees, and then the snow started sticking to our skins, and then clumping onto our skins, and the snow was also getting nice and isothermic, and then we started punching through the crust and wallowing uphill through trees with an igloo-worth of snow attached to the bottom of our skis. You could say that travel was slow. And painful. And we were looking forward to the idea of not having to see another tree for four days.
Finally, 10 hours later, we made it through the trees. Well, perhaps it wasn’t that long. But nearly. We were exhausted. Travel conditions improved once we got out into the open, although we all continued to have issues with snow sticking to our skins. The weather began to close in too – cloudy and flat light, just what we wanted as we were getting close to the first glacier.
We roped up as we drew alongside Mount Niles, and then crossed onto the Niles Glacier, the start of the Waputik Icefield. By this point we were all feeling fairly exhausted, and it wasn’t long after that the counting began. It was the easiest way to make your legs keep moving – singing required too much mental effort. Even counting could get difficult… 106.. 107.. 108.. 109.. 200.. what? no… um…
It was only 3 kilometres from Mount Niles to the Scott Duncan Hut, but they’re some of the slowest kilometres I’ve ever travelled. We’d been breaking trail all day, thanks to a combination of fresh snow and wind. And my skins would not stop gunking up with snow, which made every step a dragging effort with no glide at all. The landscape was so huge it felt as if we were hardly moving, so the only thing that helped was the counting.
Finally though, we swung underneath Mount Daly, and could begin the final (short) climb to the hut. And as we did the sun was setting, and there was the most brilliant pink sunset sky that I think I’ve ever seen – and it will remain that way too, as I was far too tired to even think about dragging my camera out.
As we stumbled into the hut, we breathed a sigh of relief that we’d have it to ourselves. Scott Duncan is a tiny little hut that sleeps only 16 – and would be very cramped with that many. But it feels wild and remote – especially after a day of trail breaking, and not another human in sight.
As we ate dinner we discussed whether we’d actually be able to carry out the trip as planned. Thanks to issues booking huts, we were doing the traverse in reverse (most people do it from North to South, giving less uphill, and a much MUCH easier first day), and we’d also been unable to get into Balfour Hut, meaning that tomorrow would be another long day, combining what would usually be two days of the traverse into one. And after the exhausting day we’d just finished, we weren’t sure if we’d be able to do it. So we went to bed, deciding we’d see how we felt in the morning. If necessary we could always turn around and ski back to the car.
