Raphael Slawinski

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 h...

One of my favourite corners of the Rockies is Kananaskis Country. I love its dry conifers, wind-swept ridges, gray crags and, in the winter, ice dessicated by Chinooks. Eamonn Walsh shares my fondness for K-Country, and so it is often with Eamonn that I explore obscure front-range peaks and routes. The Opal Range is a 40-km long spine of dramatic if somewhat crumbling peaks. Tectonic forces have stood originally horizontal strata of limestone on end. Erosion completed the job, leaving a chain of vertically-tilted bedding planes. The result is a range of peaks with narrow ridges running north-south, and steep faces falling to the east and west. The Opals naturally lend themselves to multi-peak traverses, with the number of peaks one takes in on any given outing limited mainly by one's tolerance for scrambling on chossy knife edges with big drops all around. A fine position on the south ridge of The Blade, with the southern Opals behind. Since returning from the Bugs in mid-Augu...

A fine morning finds us once again hiking up the familiar trail to The Lookout . Our packs are pleasantly light; the ropes are stashed at the crag, and our projects are already equipped with draws. It is shaping up to a beautiful day. Who knows, we might not even need a fire to stay warm today. I go through my usual ritual: a long 5.11on big holds to limber up; a short bouldery 5.11 to warm up the fingers; and a 5.12a that I have wired to get into pulling-down mode. All too soon it is time to get down to work and start doing redpoint burns on my month-old project, Spicy Elephant Extension. The first section to the halfway anchor goes quickly. How many times have I climbed it by now? It must be at least fifteen, maybe twenty. Even though I am not really pumped, I stop at the no-hands rests; I will need the extra energy higher up. The business begins a couple of bolts above the halfway anchor. I take my time at the stem rest, alternating hands and gripping positions until m...

Technically it is still summer but it sure does not feel like it. On a bike ride in the foothills last week, I found myself ducking under branches weighed down with fresh snow. Having struggled to stay warm while rock climbing the last couple of times out, I was reluctant to head back up to The Lookout on the strength of yesterday's forecast. That, plus with the crappy weather recently, Eamonn, J and I were keen to drive the Icefields Parkway to see if something interesting might not have frozen up. As it turned out, it is still a bit early to dust off the ice tools, but we did enjoy a fun scramble up Mt. Coleman. Blue skies, amazing views, and a good lungs-and-legs workout; I have had worse days out. Mt. Amery (on the right) from the meadows of Sunset Pass. Aurora on the north face of Mt. Amery looked nearly good to go. Eamonn and J looking up the Alexandra River valley. The summit ridge, over a vertical mile above the Parkway, did not feel very summer like. J slogging towar...

As I am writing this, cold rain is falling outside. It being September in Alberta, this means it is snowing in the hills. Summer is definitely over in the Rockies. Sure, there will still be sunny days at The Lookout and on Yam, maybe even some crisp indian summer in the alpine, but the warm afternoons and dry rock on the high peaks will have to wait until next year. And so I find myself thinking back to the season that has just ended, and the great adventures shared with good friends. A month ago Dana Ruddy, Eamonn Walsh and I walked twenty kilometres into that magical place that is the Tonquin. Our goal was the traverse of the Amethyst Lake Rockwall, taking in the summits of Redoubt, Dungeon and Oubliette. We were up before dawn and hitting the trail by headlamp. The ten kilometres of hiking around the lake went by quickly, all the more so as I was half asleep through most of it. The sun rose into a sky hazy with smoke from forest fires burning in British Columbia as we tried to ke...

The alarm goes off at 3:30 a.m. I do not hear it, as I have my earplugs in against Jon's snoring, but he does. I stick my head out of the tent and look at the sky. Not a single cloud obscures the thousands of stars; there is no excuse to go back to sleep. Unfortunately by the time we choke down our instant oatmeal the stars have disappeared behind dark clouds. But with a full French press' worth of coffee in our veins there is no turning back, and we set off boulder hopping by headlamp across the moraines. The early morning light is just enough to see by when we crest the Bugaboo-Snowpatch col. What we see is not very inspiring: thick, low clouds are streaming from the north across the Howsers. The thought of rappelling into the west face in marginal weather does not appeal. We run back down to Applebee, where we crawl into our sleeping backs and do not reemerge until almost noon. Wake up and smell the coffee! The stormy Howsers from the Bugaboo-Sno...

Last month "Polish Bob" Rogoz and I spent some time in the Bugaboos . We enjoyed good granite, sunshine and storm; in other words, the classic Bugs experience. Are there really porcupines up Bugaboo Creek, or is it all a myth? The west face of Snowpatch Spire. Yoga on the (south) summit of Snowpatch. Photo: Robert Rogoz. Life and death on the glacier. Sunrise on the Howser Towers. A piece of gear should ideally serve more than one function. For instance, a sharpened stick works as an ice axe but also comes in handy for staking vampires. The sun's first rays warming the top of the Beckey-Choiunard route on South Howser Tower. The Great White Headwall on the Beckey-Choiunard. Photo: Robert Rogoz. A disturbing scene on the summit of South Howser Tower. A Rockies' rat does not like to venture out of sight of his favourite mountains: Bugaboo Spire with the Goodsir Towers in the background. In the clouds on the summit ridge of Bugaboo Spire. Bugaboo moonrise.