Trip Report

Four of us were dropped off a week early by helicopter near the base of the Argentine Glacier and spent a week skiing to Fairy Meadows, where we then had a week of guided skiing. Here is the full report of both weeks.

All times are Mountain Time even though we were in the Pacific zone. Sir Sandford would turn over in his grave at this: see below!


April 21, 2001: Helicopter dropoff near the bottom of the Argentine Glacier (6400'); 3 nights at that camp
April 24: Ski to Moberly Pass (2350' climb)
April 25: Rain, in tent all day
April 26: Ski to Great Cairn Hut (3370' climb)
April 27: Easy tour on Haworth Glacier
April 28: Ski to Fairy Meadows Hut (5:15 am - 5 pm), 4300' climb. Very difficult day.
April 29 - May 5: Guided skiing at Fairy Meadows Hut (6600')

Summary: The weather was poor the first week with very few sunny periods and lots of rain at the low elevations. This caused a tremendous avalanche cycle on April 27; we saw more than one hundred slides, some very large. So we waited a day and then cool weather allowed us to try the long, hard day from Great Cairn Hut to Fairy Meadows Hut, the end of the traverse part of our trip. We rose at 3 a.m., and skied from 4:15 a.m. to 4 p.m., gaining the luxury of the hut (and sauna), where we then spent a week skiing steep terrain with two expert guides and eight other friends who helicoptered to the hut on the same day.

The second week had lots of snow and cold weather (no rain!): skiing was mostly powder. We had a clear day on 4/26, and 14 of us skied to the summit of Pioneer Peak (10700).



Day Zero: Friday, April 20
Last shopping at MEC in Calgary, Safeway, camera shop, then drive to Golden. Bob and I go to heli hangar to discuss plans with pilot Dave Morgan. Saw assistant guides Marc Piche and Steve Lubnik who were off for their full guides' test (no results yet). A radio was offered to us ($100), but we decided that, because of the weight and cost, we would forego it. It is also a matter of style: having no radio meant that we HAD to get to our destination. Of course, at times during the trip we wished we had a radio! But in hindsight the decision seems acceptable.


Day One: Saturday, April 21
Our plan was to go from Bachelor Pass (8500') to Fairy Meadows Hut, but when we heard that the Alpine Club of Canada was coming out from the Argentine Ski Camp on the same day, it seemed more expedient to fly there. The reader might wonder why we would choose to have ourselves and our gear dumped at 6400' when we had planned for 8500'! Well, it seemed like the trip through the forest to Moberly Pass would be easy and short. Error.

We were flown in early (11-minute flight) and chatted with guide Steve Ludwig, who gave us advice on the crux of our route, the last leg from Great Cairn to Fairy Meadows. And the previous night at dinner we ran into the group going to Fairy Meadows later this day, and we got some advice from guide Rich Marshall. Weather was turning warm, so avalanche danger was very real. As Ludwig put it: "If you get warm rain now, you're screwed." But the information we received re. the final day's route was very valuable. Marshall said, re. Thor Pass, "Oh, you can just boot up it." It was most interesting to turn these seven words into reality!

The ACC folks left, though not without incident as the heli. was unable to sling the huge mesh gear bag. It started up, wavered a little, and then came down. But pilot Dave Morgan is an expert and knows what he is doing. The load was lightened, and off they went.

We went for a tour in the afternoon (1400' climb) to learn our way around the area. Our choice of camp was good from the point of view of skiing, as the surrounding glaciers offer a week's worth of interesting skiing. But, really, it is difficult to mix the two goals: skiing in place and skiing point-to-point, since the latter must take priority when the weather is good. But we had to stay at this camp for a few days to lighten our loads. In the evening we used poles and string to rig our food so that the pine martens wouldn't get it. Easier said than done! The martens can jump great distances and chew through varied materials. We lost a bag of oatmeal before we figured out that a hole three feet deep covered with snow was necessary. We used some of the damaged oatmeal to distract them on later nights, but it didn't really work. They wanted new food. It was so bizarre at night as we shone our lights outside the tents to see all these little eyes staring at us from the forest. The camp was near some open water, so there was no need to melt snow.

Day Two, April 22. Murky weather, so we couldn't go glacier skiing, but we got a good run in off the shoulder of Centurion and then spent a couple of hours exploring the hoped-for easy forest route to Moberly. It was tough going, with some avy danger, and we realized we would not be able to do it with heavy packs. So we decided that we would take the long route around around Centurion via Pyrite Ridge. This was a big climb, so we decided to place a cache on the following day. Evening: Fight the martens. Scored some direct snowball hits, but it hardly mattered. 2000' climb

Day Three, April 23: Carried ice axes, crampons, rope, food, and fuel to 7900' near the pass W of Centurion. We took a roundabout route to the point, but were a little bolder on descent and skied down a steeper slope that turned out to be safe, and so we could use it to climb the next day. Evening: Martens after our stoves and pots, but food was well hidden. 1900' climb

Day Four, April 24: Our first travel day. Weather was murky, but we took the direct route to our cache, reaching it much faster than on the previous day. As often happened on the trip, the hoped-for cruise down to the next camp was not so simple. We had white-out conditions and had to navigate the glaciers and the large nunatak to keep on the correct line. There were no crevasses so travel was easy, but we had to use the GPS several times to verify our position. Vertigo reigned on the downhills. As we neared tree-line at last we could see some heli-ski tracks from earlier in the day. The snow was really bad though -- soft and slushy -- and I'm sure the skiers were not thrilled with this part of their week. But helicopters cannot land up high in zero-visibility conditions. We hit Moberly Pass around 5 pm, and it was raining there. Dreary. The good news was that there was open water again. The bad news: The martens here were even more aggressive: they would come into the vestibule of our tent and when I poked my head and headlamp out the door, they would move toward me, not away! Cute, but vicious and pesky. 8 hrs skiing (9-5); 2350' climb

Day Five: April 25: Rain in a.m. It would be silly to try the big carry up the Goat Glacier. We spent the day in the tent. Rain never let up much. But by 9 pm there was a clear sky, so we assumed we could go the next day. It was this day that we wondered if we should have taken the radio. What if we are badly delayed and can't make Fairy Meadows? Would guide Tom Raudaschl at some point ask a helicopter to check out our route? Seems reasonable. We figured that once we made Great Cairn Hut we were safe, since that would be the obvious place for them to look, and there will almost surely be food and fuel there. 0' climb

Day Six: April 26: A great morning. We pack efficiently and Bob starts breaking trail through the steep forest. The rest day really helped our energy level. Pretty soon we are on the beautiful moraines below the Goat Glacier, and soon on the glacier itself. This glacier might be tricky to descend, but on ascent one can see the icefalls and crevasse areas and it was pretty easy to pick a safe route. We roped on the glacier and Bob led the entire way, breaking trail in new snow that was quite tiring. Views were great: the Goldstream Neve, Downie Mountain, and back towards the Pyrite Ridge that we had just descended. But the local views of crevasses and icefalls were the best. Everyone enjoyed this day immensely as this is the sort of day that one hopes for on a ski traverse in the Selkirks.

From Sir Sandford Pass we had a little trouble locating Palisade Pass, even though I been here in 1994. But we found it, scooted up and over, and then cruised down the Haworth Glacier to the Great Cairn Hut. Approaching it, I was surprised to see a large metal obelisk: this was the new outhouse, built to resemble the original great cairn built by Harvard students in 1953. In the early 1960s, the ACC used the stones of the cairn to build the Great Cairn Hut. I had been here for 10 days with guides Roddy MacGowan and Joe McKay in 1994, and it was great to be back: there was the awesome view of Mt. Sir Sandford (the highest peak in the Columbia Mountains), and the hut itself is quite confortable. The interior had been redone and though it is not spacious, it seemed very luxurious to us after five nights tenting in the snow.

I felt some relief at reaching the hut since we were now in the obvious place to search if anything happened. We have not covered huge mileage, but the terrain is so wild that it feels huge. And we are now adequately far from our dropoff point to feel that we have accomplished something. Mike, an ER doctor, was also happy to have gained the safety of the hut. He is very aware that nasty injuries can occur any time. In the event, we had no need of the medical kit or expertise (at least on this first week).

The bad news was that it was warm again and, in the evening, raining again, and there were lots of wet snow avalanches. We decided we should try to get to Fairy Meadows the next day if conditions allowed. 8.5 hrs (10 am - 6:30 pm), 3370' climb.

Aside: On my return to Colo. I saw a book review of a new book about Sir Sandford Fleming ("Time Lord", by Clark Blaise). He invented the 24-hour clock after showing up for a 5 a.m. train at 5 p.m., asking: Are we so stupid that we cannot compute above the number 12? And he was instrumental in establishing standard time and time zones around the world. So I imagine he would be quite displeased to know that his peak is located in a region where the official time zone (Pacific) is ignored, and everyone uses Mountain time!

Day Seven: April 27: 5 am. We wake, listen to the rain, and after brief discussion go back to sleep. The day turns out to be reasonably fine, but during the day (we toured to Redan Pass (1800' climb): we had hoped to ski Alpina Dome, but we were too tired to climb it, and heli skiers (6 or 8 landings in all) had scooped all the good lines) we were treated to an amazing avalanche cycle. Huge wet snow avys came off any site exposed to the sun: Palisade and, most striking, the entire SW face of Azimuth Ridge. These were very, very large: one could see the snout racing down the gullies at top speed. It seemed like our route to Azimuth Notch was reasonably safe, but clearly route choice and hazard evaluation were critical.

On the tours on the Haworth Glacier we got a view of the terrain we would have to cross to reach the sanctuary of Fairy Meadows. It looked high, far, and difficult: way more difficult than what we had done so far. I had seen these peaks in 1994, but seeing them when one knows one has to cross them is a different story. Gibraltar Peak is most impressive, but it was Thor Pass that really got our attention since it looked like a steep couloir that could be difficult. At least it was high (9460'), and so probably cold.

As we went to sleep to prepare for the next day's effort the barometer plummeted: down 0.25 inch mercury. Not a good sign.

Day Eight: April 28.  Rose at 4 am and, despite light drizzle (aargh...rain is the one thing one doesn't want on a trip like this), we left the hut at 5:15 using headlamps. We knew the rain would be snow as soon as we gained a few hundred feet. We followed guide Rich Marshall's advice and climbed the shallow gully between the Silvertip Glacier and the steep slopes of Azimuth Ridge. There was no avalanche activity at this time of day, but the murk continued and after circling some interesting spots at the glacier's edge, we found ourselves in the usual low visibility conditions. We saw some wolverine tracks in this area. I led a little too far upstream and was soon on a steep slope whose snow was sliding underfoot. There was brief discussion of turning back, but we had come this far with the heavy loads (we were officially out of dinner food now: we took a tin of salmon from the hut in case we had to camp out one more night), and so decided to push on: I cut back to Bob and Mike who found a slightly shallower way up, and we climbed it without incident to gain the gentle bench that allows a switchback back to the notch. At this point it is very tricky to see exactly where the correct notch is. We skied up to a minor knoll on the ridge that looks like it would give access to two saddles that would allow passage. The southern one was an easier slope, but harder to get to, so we tramped 50 yards north on rocks to a notch above a steep snow slope.

Leslie led down, throwing a sling to see where the slope was. The white-outs one gets on these glaciers are mind-boggling. It is simply like being on the inside of a ping-pong ball: one cannot distinguish snow from air from cloud, or see any horizon. So Leslie traversed gently, we followed, and we descended without incident.

Of course, now we were committed and we knew that we might have to set up camp if conditions at Thor Pass were bad. But we didn't want to do that, because it would mean the group of 11 arriving today at Fairy Meadows would worry about us. So we raced across the Adamant Glacier in the usual murk and started, at 11:05 a.m., skinning up the slopes to Thor Pass. Amazingly, the skin route was quite gentle and took us ever-higher until we were right up against the high steep walls of Thor. This was totally not what we expected. Where is the steep narrow couloir? We could see the notch around the corner that we needed to get through, so we traversed to it (2 hours to this point: 1:05) and saw that the difficulties had, indeed, not disappeared. The couloir rose very steeply (at least 45 degrees) for most of its last 300 feet. Bob had done most of the leading to this point, with Leslie and Mike taking turns, and now I found myself in the lead, with Leslie in support and Bob and Mike a bit behind. Leslie quickly convinced me that skiing up was out of the question, so we loaded our skis onto our packs (still over 50 pounds, despite lack of food) and I started making steps.

This was hard. The snow was waist-deep powder. It seemed quite stable: no slab had formed. But breaking steps was extremely arduous: one would first use a knee to break off the surface snow, then reach in and dump snow into the step to solidify the platform. I could find no firmness whatever and had to work very hard for an hour to gain the pass. I thought a lot about Chic Scott, and the steep terrain he led on the Rogers Pass to Bugaboos trip in 1990. And I thought about Tom Raudaschl and Steve Lubnik who broke trail on a peak near Battle Abbey in conditions like this in March 1999.

We followed good protocol by having the three wait until I was halfway up before following; by then we could see that the stability was good. At the top there were rocks poking up and that made it easier, but it was still steep and required strenuous scrambling. But soon we were at the pass (2 pm), from which point it is downhill to Fairy Meadows. But these downhills are never quite so easy.

First, there was the issue of the steep 500-foot drop shown at the map. Visibility was low (surprise) and the wind howling so I said to Bob: "Let's just plunge-step down this slope. We can put our skis on when we get out of this wind." But when we started to head down, we found that the terrain went up!!! Quel surpris! It kept going up a little, and then flattening, and then down a little. It turns out that the map is simply very wrong in this area. We saw a better map at Fairy Meadows, and it was much more accurate.

But the good news was that we could cruise over the Gothics Glacier, using the GPS to point us to Friendship Col. Presently the twin peaks of Damon and Pythias came into view, so we knew the col was close. We took almost no breaks this day -- indeed, to the surprise of my teammates I managed the whole day on about 8 ounces of water, but it seemed urgent to press on to get out of the weather and find the hut.

At the col the clouds broke, we picked a line of descent in the powder, and soon found tracks from the previous week's party on the Echo Glacier. As we approached the hut in the trees we heard the helicopter, which Tom had asked to go back to Golden by a route that would allow the pilot to spot us. Spot us he did, about 10 seconds after he lifted off! And then the thrill of yelling down to the hut that we had arrived, skiing down the final slope, and having Tom help me get my pack off. Now we were ready for a week of (relative) luxury, good food and skiing, and saunas at the famed Fairy Meadows Lodge. 4300' climb, 11.5 hours.


Summary: We had pulled it off, safely, with fun and good humor. As the week progressed we worked very smoothly as a team, each of us taking on various jobs in camp and on the trail that needed to be done. Our tents and food were super. A key point was that we allowed 7 days for a trip that required only 3 days of travel. This allowed us to wait out the weather and still make it on time.

At the beginning we shied away from steep slopes, but our confidence increased as we approached the crux day, and we were ready for it, traveling with confidence on tricky terrain. Our route forms part of the massive Northern Selkirks traverse, only a small part, but perhaps the part with the hardest terrain. It also forms the greater part of the Adamant Traverse from N of Fairy Meadows to the Goldstream Neve. I view it is a great tour of the Sir Sandford region, one that has awesome, challenging, and remote terrain, with the superb Great Cairn Hut for warmth and history.

I will be ever-grateful to Chic Scott for taking me on two big traverses and showing by example how to handle the unique environment of the remote Selkirk glaciers.

END WEEK ONE; see Fairy Meadows Hut report for week two.