A Long Weekend, Part III: Monday

The cool thing about the shoulder seasons of spring and fall in the Rockies is that, depending on mood and weather, one can pick and choose between sport climbing, alpine rock, ice (OK, maybe not just yet in early October) and alpine climbing proper. I felt like I had not been up into the snowy alpine for a while, probably because as a simple matter of fact I had not. The forecast was for a cool, clear day, and I felt the urge to experience it from the summit of a mountain.

 The mountain wilderness south of Mt. Sir Douglas.

Mt. Sir Douglas is the second-highest peak in Kananaskis Country. Unlike a lot of Rockies' peaks it does not have a walk-up route. True, none of the routes on Sir Douglas are extreme, but they all require climbing. Along with the glaciated approaches and location out of sight of a paved highway, it all adds up to make it a "real" mountain.

Afternoon light on the north-west face of Sir Douglas.

Josh Lavigne had never climbed Sir Douglas, while I had already visited its summit four times, but we both thought it would make a fine fitness outing. And so it was that 7 a.m. found us biking up the initial stretch of old logging road toward Burstall Pass. Two hours later we were having a snack on South Burstall Pass, reluctantly contemplating the obligatory elevation loss into the Palliser River valley. But it had to be done, so down we went, through alpine meadows torn up by a hungry grizzly looking for tasty pikas.

Morning light on Mt. Birdwood from South Burstall Pass.

A narrow gully directly below the upper couloir gave us our first taste of tool swinging of the season. Once onto the face above we put the rope away and soloed up on perfect neve, a rare treat in the Rockies. However, the narrow, corniced summit ridge had me asking for the rope again. Standing on small, exposed ledges just below the summit, we enjoyed the sun on the south face while we ate lunch and tried to identify peaks as far away as the Purcells. And then it was back to the north side again, downclimbing the snow ramp of the original North-West Face route. Kick, kick, plant, plant: the same movements repeated hundreds of times. It would be easy to get bored and sloppy, were it not for the big drop below one's feet to encourage good form.

Looking down the initial gully, with Mt. Assiniboine in the distance.

The impressive east face of Assiniboine.

Josh in the upper couloir of the Direct North-West Face.

The summit ridge with the Royal Group behind.

Josh downclimbing the snow ramp of the North-West Face.

As we crested South Burstall Pass for the second time in the day, the late afternoon sun swung around to pick out the ribs on the face we had just climbed and descended. One last look at Mt. Assiniboine, poking up on the western horizon, and we plunged down into the shadowed valley, toward bikes and dinner. Alpine climbing: good fitness and good fun. Well, sometimes.

Below is a short video from our climb that Josh put together. Enjoy.

Comments

  1. UnknownDecember 22, 2010 at 12:28 AM

    Great article and clip! loved it!
    Have been down that way many times,mostly over to the Commonwealth Valley side (Smuts, Birdwood, Fist, and co.) or around the Lake Leman area.
    Keep up the blog! ill start keepin an eye
    on it--esp. for pointers on colder weather climbing!! :)
    Joël Gray

    ReplyDelete
  2. Raphael SlawinskiDecember 22, 2010 at 10:00 AM

    I really like those valleys west of the Smith-Dorrien Trail (French Creek, Burstall Pass, Commonwealth Creek...), and have been exploring them ever since I first started going into the mountains. Having said that, there is still much I have not experienced from close up - like the Lake Leman area and the Royal Group. I need to remedy that sometime.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A slice of the unknown

Image
I step from a luxurious belay ledge onto a steep, prickly slab. The slab is undercut just beneath my feet: a rock dropped from here might hit the distant orange spot of my pack at the base of the wall. I clip a bolt. Wait, what, a bolt? By this point Alik and I expected to be traveling across untouched rock. Five years earlier Alik, Ian and Nino climbed three pitches of the line we're attempting, but we've already passed their highpoint. It seemed unlikely that anyone else should've wandered up to this obscure face, overshadowed by the bigger, better known north faces of Ha Ling Peak to the north and Mount Lawrence Grassi to the south. And yet a bolted anchor four pitches up makes it clear we're not the first people up here. The slings on the anchor suggest the mystery climbers rappelled off, but then the bolt I've just clipped hints they might also have finished the route. We don't know. I shuffle further left, stuff a cam under an overlap, and turn my attentio...
Read more

Give 'Im Enough Rope

Image
January 2016. The Scottish International Winter Meet. Perhaps just to make the international visitors appreciate the fickle nature of Scottish winter climbing, the first few days of the gathering were either too warm, too rainy or both. Rather than take our gear for a walk in the wet, windy hills, we went drytooling in the guts of Newtyle Quarry and rock climbing on the shores of the North Sea. Then a morning dawned with clear skies and below-freezing temperatures. A thousand and one teams drove up the road to the Aviemore ski area and stomped across half-frozen bogs to to the Northern Corries.  A thick layer of hoar frost grew on the walls of Coire an Lochain. As I understood the quirky ethics of Scottish winter climbing, this was considered a good thing. Coming from the cold, dry Canadian Rockies, I was more used to waiting after a storm until wind and gravity had cleared the rock of snow, but hey, when in Rome, do as the locals do. My introduction to Scottish mixed climbing was ...
Read more

The Hand of God

Image
1982. On April 2, Argentine forces invaded and occupied the Falkland Islands (aka Las Malvinas), and the next day South Georgia, British islands that Argentina considered its rightful territory. Just three days later, Britain dispatched an expeditionary force to take back what had been a British colony for over a century. In the end, British aircraft carriers and Harrier jets prevailed, and after nearly a thousand people died, the islands returned to British control. History doesn't record if the king penguins and elephant seals inhabiting South Georgia were consulted about which country they'd like to live in. Given how humans have treated other species from time immemorial, it seems unlikely. *** 1986. On June 22, Argentina and England were playing in the quarter-finals of the FIFA World Cup in Mexico City. The match was still goalless when, a few minutes into the second half, Diego Maradona leapt for the ball that had been cleared towards the English goalie. However, instead...
Read more