It’s Now or Neve (Reflections On A Single Push Traverse)

March 24, 2024

The Build-Up
The Garibaldi Neve traverse needs no introduction. This 41 km gauntlet has been run by many a VOCer, often before they really know what they’re getting into with ski touring. The high alpine icefield demands ideal conditions to cross, lest you end up fishing for crevasses in a whiteout (which has been done many times as well). It has long been a goal of mine to cross it, though the weather never lined up. With the sorry state of the lake during this year’s El Nino (as Jeff Mottershead can attest), I sort of wrote the Neve off completely. It would have to wait yet another year.

Then two things happened on Thursday.

First, my dog Toby died. He had been a part of my life for 12 years, and one of the best ski buddies anyone could ever ask for. I remember him as a puppy running in and out of the trees with endless energy as we humans struggled to keep up on our Nordic gear. He was there as I grew up, and began to ski longer and longer days, always game to romp around in the snow and lead the way. I thought that dog could go on forever. Even when he got slower with age, he was still the happiest dog with a wagging tail on those X-Country trails. That morning hit hard when I received the news from my parents that Toby had passed.

But shortly afterwards I received other news, within a massive email chain of VOCers planning a Neve traverse for the weekend. The lake was frozen, and there would be a weather window on Sunday for a single-day push. I looked at that email with fear and trepidation. I had only ever hiked up to 31 km in a day, and had never skied more than 20. Yet a single push of this traverse demanded a full 41 km with 2000 m of gain. I also vividly remembered a Taillefer attempt I did with Anya Boardman, Tom Curran, Kai Schwartz, Jacob Grossbard, and Haley Foladare over Burns and Turns. That attempt was only 12 km in distance, yet I found myself pretty bonked following it. Did I really have what it takes to do the Neve? Declan Taylor and Anya Boardman, my companions from a summer of Arctic fieldwork, would be pursuing the weather window with Zoe Neudorf, whom I had the pleasure of meeting at 4:00am on the Sunday in question. I was sitting in the clubroom around lunchtime that Thursday, mulling over whether I should commit or not, when Declan came in, and gave me some much-needed encouragement. With that, I rallied and threw my hat into the ring.

We all met on FaceTime that night and began planning for the weekend. We expressed some of our concerns for what we were about to do, and I told Anya and Declan about Toby, and how I needed a win that weekend. Doing the Neve, an objective I had long dreamed of, with some of the most amazing people I have ever gotten to know, would definitely be a win.

Thirty-eight subsequent emails confirmed our logistics: Cassandra Elphinstone, Tom Curran, Ross Campbell, Natalie Makepeace, Shu Yu Fan, and Eric Daigle would do the traverse North to South starting on Saturday. Our group, and a second group of Lucy Buchanan-Parker, Alberto Contreras, Alex Rigby, David McKenzie, Julien Renard, Veronika Schmitt, and Caitlin Schneider would do a South to North day trip on Sunday. The car faff seemed daunting but we were optimistic.

Red Heather To Garibaldi Glacier
At 4:00am on Sunday, Zoe, Declan and I drove up to the upper Diamond Head parking lot. The night was clear, and a full moon illuminated everything around us. We waited there for Lucy and Alberto to arrive with their car group to work out shuttle faff. Once they did, we set a brisk pace up the skin track to Red Heather. We arrived after 50 minutes to see Anya outside the shelter, drinking coffee and watching the sunrise shine on the Tantalus range. Within another ten or so minutes all four of us were off. The morning was gorgeous as we made our way down Paul Ridge to Elfin, arriving around 8:50am in good spirits and eager for another 30 km of skiing. The way to Ring Creek from Elfin followed a meandering skin track through sparsely gladed forest. It eventually crossed some rather obvious avalanche paths off of the Gargoyles. We crossed these one at a time, before reaching an island of safety and seeing the skin track ahead covered by avalanche debris. We decided it would be faster and more fun to transition and ski down to the Ring Creek Bridge, rather than try to follow the skin track up the valley hoping for a crossing.

Nch’kay catching the first rays of the day. Photo Credit: Anya Boardman

We skied down the avalanche path one at a time, aiming for the bridge. The snow was still boilerplate, so we had no real concerns for a wet loose slide. Declan went first, and on the last pitch down to the bridge, took a tumble crossing the deep and frozen-solid skintrack. He was smart, however, and had a long-sleeved shirt on. Zoe followed suit, and then Anya. Finally, I made my way down, and in the same place Declan fell, I also caught an edge and ate shit. I was not as smart as Declan and had elected to wear a short-sleeved shirt. My left arm got scraped up pretty badly on the ice as I slid down.

Ouch. Photo Credit: Lucas Braun

Declan was there quickly to help me wash the wound, and tied a triangular bandage around my elbow to hide most of my scrape from the sun. We also filled up on water from the creek while we were there. We could see Lucy and Alberto’s group coming down from the avalanche paths behind us, and eager to keep a lead on them, we started skinning up the west flank of Opal Cone to the Garibaldi Glacier. We set a pretty good pace getting to the col, careful not to spend too much time under the flanks of Opal. The snow was hard and the travel fast, but as the sun got higher in the sky we were starting to feel the solar oven turning on.

Declan preparing to cross the Ring Creek Bridge. Coverage is super low this year, so the bridge was the clear winner in terms of crossing options. Photo Credit: Lucas Braun

Climbing the west flank of the Opal Cone. Photo credit: Declan Taylor

Declan gleefully showboating how he can take off his bibs without removing his harness or skis. Photo Credit: Lucas Braun

Garibaldi Glacier to Sentinel Bay
At the top of Garibaldi Glacier, we had a leisurely lunch/snack. With the first big climb behind us we took our time and enjoyed the panoramic views from Nch’kay to Mamquam. Declan and Anya had both done the Neve before, each with Cassandra in a whiteout (Febraury 2020 and 2022 respectively), and they were especially amazed by the presence of mountains around them, rather than the interior walls of an alpine ping pong ball. Lucy and Alberto’s group caught up to us and stopped there as well. They gave me some updated first aid, which was much appreciated. As we ate, we saw a few groups approaching us across the glacier from the Neve highpoint. Eventually, we realized it was Tom, Cassandra, Ross, Natalie, Shuyu, and Eric. Alongside them were a few VOCers that they recruited at Burton Hut. I had a few laughs with Emma Ghelfi, one such VOCer, who had set out to Burton for the weekend, and ended up doing the full Neve traverse spontaneously. We exchanged a few more words with them and then set out for the high point.

Our glorious snack spot. Photo credit: Declan Taylor

As we kickturned up the slope to the high point, the sun was a raging furnace, which wasn’t helped by the reflective glaciers. We all were sweating bullets. I found the heat really punishing, and could only muster a few steps at a time before I had to stop and breathe. Alberto had to stop several times as one of his climbing skins fell apart. Anya and Zoe mastered the slope by getting into a high-energy conversation about paragliding, and by being much fitter than Declan and I.

Lucas’ brains are cooked in a beautiful place. Photo Credit: Declan Taylor.

Zoe and Anya charging up the steeps. Photo Credit: Declan Taylor

After a gruelling hour or so, we were up at the high point. Before us was a clear view of the Sharkfin, with the Table and Black Tusk behind. We ripped skins and started to make our way down the North Pitt Glacier along the Sharkfin wall. To our west, Nch’kay had a few climbers making their way up its face. We skied down a narrow ramp with crevasses lining either side and passed to the east of the Sharkfin. Then, we skied down one at a time onto the Warren Glacier. From there, it was a short but stiflingly hot climb up to the col beneath Glacier Pikes. At the top of the col overlooking Sentinel Bay, we ran into another non-VOC-affiliated party.

Looking back at our tracks on the Warren Glacier. Photo Credit: Declan Taylor

Climbers on Garibaldi. Photo Credit: Declan Taylor.

They asked us if we wanted something to help with the impending lake crossing. We asked what they meant.

“We have some magic mushrooms if you want some,” they said, holding up a little ziplock.

We politely declined and watched them ski down to the bay. We transitioned, took some photos, and made our way down as well. The skiing was magnificent. A 5 cm layer of fresh snow lay on top of a slightly sunwarmed crust, and our idyllic turns marked themselves across the white glacial canvas. At the glaciology huts, we ran into Lucy and Alberto’s group, and I found a delicious sunbaked granite rock to lie on.

Goofing on the Glacier Pikes col. Photo Credit: Declan Taylor.

Sun bathing by the hut. Photo Credit: Declan Taylor

At around 4:00pm, Declan urged us to keep going. I had downed a five-hour energy drink at the top of the Glacier Pikes col, and was starting to feel some adverse effects in response to the caffeine. But I figured that moving would be a good cure.

Sentinel Bay to Rubble Creek
The lake crossing was a moment for reflection. On the long expense of flat, your mind rambles as your body finds its rhythm. Zoe raced on ahead, attempting to skate-ski the lake. Anya kept pace on skins with Declan skating at a more relaxed pace for quite a ways. I was probably a couple hundred meters behind the two of them.

Reflections. Photo Credit: Lucas Braun

We had skied the Neve, an objective that I had spent two years of my life thinking about, and months of my life actively researching, planning for, and training for.

I thought about Toby, my little ski buddy. I felt deeply on the walk across the lake, that this gift from the mountains – the perfect weather, the perfect conditions, the perfect crew, and the perfect day – was also a gift from him. That he had given me one last epic ski. I was so glad that I had listened and said yes to that email chain.

We regrouped with 1km of lake slog left, and made it to the Garibaldi Lake warming shelters. Our shroom friends from earlier were there, enjoying the sunlight and staring across at Sphinx Bay. Without much further ado, we made our way to the switchbacks. The outflow was wide open, as was part of Lesser Garibaldi Lake, so we took the summer trail to Barrier Lake, which thankfully was solid. The trail was impressively off-camber and post-holed to hell which slowed us down some in that short section. However, the sharp glare of the highnoon alpine sun was fading into a soft afternoon glow. The trees were drenched in old man’s beard lichen which was catching the golden light, and the snow was still soft from the day. Conversations had dissipated into whatever brought each of us resolve: complaining about the skin track, complimenting the light, singing, or just breathing.

Zoe feigning stoke at the day’s end. Photo Credit: Declan Taylor.

I was exhausted. My feet were blistered to all hell, and my stomach was still reeling from the energy gel. The switchbacks weren’t as heinous as I’ve heard they can be, though we walked the last four kilometres in the dark. Anya serenaded me with some of her famously improvised songs, which made the parking lot a very relieving sight.

Miraculously, each group finished within a couple of minutes of each other, with Cassandra and Tom’s group reaching the Diamond Head Parking around the same time. We were able to meet in Squamish and exchange cars and goodbyes.

Stats:

41 km
2000 m of gain
14.5 hours