Bow Valley Blues

Written by Julian Larsen

Summer 2024

 

Prologue

In spring I had heard whispers from Nick Ayers and Evan Wong about a big Rockies trip. Evan had a photoshoot for Monod Sports in Banff, and had a list of objectives that he wanted to get done for this shoot. As summer approached and I failed to find a Co-op job, I reached out to the two of them and decided I would join for this epic trip. In early June, Nick and I set off in his mostly functional Jetta for the long drive out to Calgary. Nick was convinced that his car would overheat so he demanded we leave the heat on full the entire drive to cool off the engine. This meant that we had windows down the whole drive, and the noise was loud enough that listening to music was pointless. I couldn’t drive stick, but I specifically trained the week before so that I could do at least some of the driving. In Revelstoke we switched seats, and I started to drive around town. I asked Nick for directions, but he fumbled around and couldn’t tell which way I was supposed to go to get back on the highway. After doing a couple loops around the block I stalled at a stop sign and Nick jumped out of the car immediately and said “Out! Out!”. I was confused that he was so worried about a single stall but if he wanted to drive the entire way who was I to argue. Eventually we made it to Evan’s place and set up for the next 2 weeks.

The trip had many adventures, but as I’m not keen to write a novel, I will summarize a large chunk. Some of the days we climbed with other VOCers including Noah MacDonald, Sonia Landwehr and de facto VOCer Avery Soule. We had a few good weather days including some sport climbing in Canmore and Lake Louise, as well as a few multis including an easy romp up Keel Haul wall on Kid Goat Buttress, a terrifying and sandbagged completion of Diretissima on Yamnuska, and a lovely ascent of River Run on Tunnel Mountain. Now on to the real debacles…

 

Early Season Woes

As it turns out, June is not always summer in the Rockies. This year was colder than the last few, and so lingering snow was about. More surprising though, was the arrival of new snow, which not only blanketed the mountains, but accumulated in the valley bottom including Canmore and Banff. When Nick and I originally drove through the Bow Valley we recognized instantly that some of our objectives were too snowy to climb, and that was before we got an extra 15 cm. It was most of the second week that this unfortunate weather came, and the climbing attempts during this time are when the real type two fun presented itself.

Some of the days it snowed, we tried to find overhung cliffs where we could shelter from the weather. Nick and I ventured to Grassi Lakes where we were pelted by rain and snow all day, but some of the climbs were still dry. Unfortunately, it was still extremely cold and miserable, so we left less than satisfied. Another day Evan joined us to go the Echo Canyon, where we all tried an excellent climb, but it was once again freezing, and we all moved too slow to get much done.

 

Screams from the Balcony

After a successful day with good weather sport climbing at the back of Lake Louise (since before sunrise), Evan had planned for Nick and I to do a multipitch trad climb called Screams from the Balcony. This necessitated another early wake up, and we started the hike around sunrise. The hiking trail to Saddle Mountain turned quickly to snowpack, and we tried to delicately avoid post-holing. Shortly after, we split off from the trail to go towards the base of the climb, but staying on top of the snow became virtually impossible off the main trail. Every second or third step would send us plunging past our knees, as we were already dealing with frustrating bushwhacking. The heinousness only increased until we found ourselves routinely chest deep in snow pulling branches to try and drag ourselves up the slope. None of us had adequately prepared for this, and I only had ankle socks with no gaiters. Everything was thoroughly soaked, and to make it worse, we felt periodic sprinklings of rain. Eventually we made to the base of a scree slope. We would have to traverse through the forest to the other side of the mountain to get to the base of the climb, and we unanimously agreed that would be terrible with so much snow and a large chance of precipitation. But instead of bailing, I suggested we go up the exposed scree which leads to the summit, and then rappel in to investigate and potentially climb the top pitch which was the hardest and best of the climb. Nick and Evan agreed, so up we went. At the top, Evan rigged a fixed line on a tree quite far back from the edge and rappelled into the top anchor to avoid traversing the loose scree along the wildly exposed cliff edge. After following Evan I rappelled to the base of the top pitch, and it was probably the most exposed rappel I have ever done. Not only was it the 5th pitch on a climb, but it was a cliff-band high above the valley, and it was overhung. I realized that it was too overhung to reach the anchor, but luckily the blasting wind blew me around and I grabbed it while swinging into the wall. The first half of the pitch was bolted due to its lack of cracks, but this did not feel like a sport climb by any means. The first bolt was a good 5 metres left and 5 metres up from the belay. The next one was another 6m above that. Nick had originally called leading the pitch but after seeing the predicament, he happily gave it to me. When he pulled the rope, the end fell down at least 30m and cracked like a whip, that sound was so loud that Nick and I thought there had been rockfall. When we pulled the rope up the end had exploded, so we had to switch which side we were leading on. While we faffed with the rope, god rays emerged from the storm clouds above us shining directly on Temple, Evan called to us urgently, “CLIMB! What are you doing!?”. Unfortunately, we missed the perfect photo moment and gloomy views prevailed again. Also unfortunate, was that the climbing was 5.11 immediately off the belay, which made me a bit worried as I didn’t want a factor 2 fall. I climbed shakily and over-gripped past the first 2 bolts, freaking out a bit over the exposure as cold wind blasted me from the side. The second bolt was just above a roof, and with the fear building up I almost panicked. While clinging to the bottom of the roof, I told myself that I had to lock in. There was no bailing. I was already runout. I just had to continue. After that, I clipped the second bolt and it was amazing and fun climbing to the top, including a couple more small roofs and an amazing finger crack in the trad gear section. Evan was disappointed that his rope didn’t go as far down as he would’ve liked for his shots, but he still got some absolutely amazing photos.

 

Just as I topped out it started to snow. Nick and Evan were both shaking uncontrollably from cold (I had climbed in three jackets). While I was stoked, Nick had to follow in the midst of a small blizzard, and frequent stops were needed to warm up his hands. We eventually all made it back to the top of the mountain where our bags were, and started to pack up so we could get off the e mountain before weather got worse. As we were packing, we spotted a tick… then another… and another. Soon we were finding them everywhere, so we stopped our packing and dumped everything out again. We stripped down in the freezing wind to do tick checks on our bodies and then painstakingly checked every piece of gear before putting it into bags. We had to stop and repeat this with the bags on us because found ticks crawling up the sides of the bags the first attempt. This whole situation was a bit of a nightmare; we had encountered a few ticks in the Rockies, but this was next level. After thorough checks, we started booking it off the mountain. Unfortunately, the snow had gotten even softer throughout the day despite being freezing cold, and we started trudging through waist deep snow as we traversed a slope that we thought might get us down easier. During this time we got pounded by wind and snow as storm clouds rolled in. When my pants had become completely soaked, my shoes sloshing with water, and my feet numb, I decided that it would be safer to just book it down the slope and be back in the trees than traverse in these terrible conditions. I turned and attempted to run downhill, resulting in basically a slow-moving small wet loose avalanche that I rode to the bottom. Not ideal, but better than frostbite, and potentially triggering something similar anyways. From there we trudged through slightly less deep snow and made it back to the car. From there we splayed our gear out under a tree near the parking lot to do a final tick check, as Lake Louise tourists looked on at us with confusion. After another bodily tick check in the washroom stalls, we were back in the car and free from misery.

 

Gravitational Waves

On the last day Evan had free, him and I knew we had to do something. The weather forecast was terrible, and it had snowed overnight, but we were going to attempt another multi-pitch called Gravitational Waves on Mount Cory. That morning Canmore was shrouded in clouds and blanketed in wet melting snow. Evan and I were there to pick up a bike which we would use to get to the base of the approach for our climb near Banff (yes it was a convoluted approach). In Banff we suffered through the cold bike ride, and I put my hands in my pockets as much as possible since my gloves were still wet from previous misadventures. After a fairly long bike and a lot of searching around we “found” the trail. By this I mean we found a reasonable way to get through the forest and up the mountain until a bit of a path became visible. As we gained elevation up the steep slopes, the amount of fresh snow on the ground began to increase, and the trees were raining down melt water constantly. We started to break through the fog and caught inspiring glimpses of the limestone towers surrounding us, as well as the picturesque valley below. The scrambling was difficult with snow coating the holds, but we made it most of the way up, spotting a large cave aptly named “hole in the wall”. I ran up to check it out while Evan decided to ignore it and start up the next bit of scrambling. The cave was super cool and had good photo opportunity, so I asked Evan to join me. That was easier said than done as Evan realized downclimbing this particular scramble was very difficult. After a while we got our shots, and then quested back up the scramble. After passing a piton and noticing it only got harder, we decided this was likely not a good way, and in retrospect might’ve been the lower pitch of a 5.7 route. We slowly downclimbed the wet, snowy slab and traversed further to try a different scramble option. This one was similarly difficult, but with trees every couple of meters to mantle over and reset. We made a ledge traverse until the route was in sight, but at this point we were far behind schedule, and ominous clouds were on the horizon. Evan and I were both not wanting to have to go down the scramble if it started raining, so we thought we might try to top out on a nearby easy looking arete to make it onto the regular summit trail. This arete turned out to be the worst rock I’ve ever climbed, and after placing one piece of questionable pro, and having flakes buckle underneath my weight, we decided it was time to bail. We rapped off a tree into a gulley to avoid the wet upper “scramble”, and then made our way back to Calgary. The next day I returned to Vancouver.

 

Redemption?

After an action-packed July, I was hoping to round out my summer with a trip to the Bugaboos. Unfortunately, just days before our departure, a massive fire started near the Bugaboos, closing the road for a while, and making us think twice about even going near that area. My alternative was to trade splitter granite cracks for the decidedly less solid rock of the Rockies, which would also mean I could get redemption on the many failures of the trip in June. The first part of the trip was a stop in Rogers Pass, where Noah and Evan met me for a truly epic ridge traverse (which will hopefully get its own trip report). After a couple days of recovery, it was time for redemption on Screams from the Balcony. The three of us drove to Lake Louise in midafternoon, hoping to climb the whole multi (not just the top pitch) and to get shots of the top pitch around sunset. The day started out poorly, with start-stop traffic on the highway. When we made it to Lake Louise, we parked low down in the village and hiked an extra hour to make it to the trailhead. After braving the sun and heat, we made it to the real trailhead where we welcomed clouds to provide some relief. Forecasts only called for a small chance of rain, and not until later that night. As we made a stop at the washroom, rain and wind arrived from the blue. We rushed up the trail regardless, just as others retreated. Thunder boomed and wind ripped branches off the swaying trees, as we nervously laughed. After about 30 minutes and 8 bouts of thunder and lightning, we decided we weren’t totally brain-dead and turned around. In a bid to salvage our long day of no climbing, we stopped at the gym in Calgary which provided some quality lead walls. The unfortunate truth was that there had been almost no rain since I left in June, but as soon as I returned, so did the poor weather. Redemption was looking less and less possible…

 

The Ultimate Redeemer

After our colossal failure in Lake Louise, Noah and I decided the only way I could salvage this trip was with a send of the Greenwood-Jones on the North Face of Mount Temple. This massive route goes up a towering 1500m face on the 11th highest peak in the Canadian Rockies. Completing this monster would be the main highlight of the summer if we could only get a good weather window. Unfortunately, a steady stream of afternoon thunderstorms hammered the mountains nearly every day. We eyed up Noah’s birthday as our best shot at sending the route. The day before we decided we needed to celebrate his birthday a bit more traditionally, so we had a barbecue. The only difference was that this barbecue would be partway up the infamous Mount Yamnuska on a large ledge called barbecue ledge (the name gave us our inspiration). Noah and I climbed up an easy route with absurdly heavy packs carrying an abundance of food, beverages, and of course a barbecue. Evan carried up another heavy pack around the backside of the mountain with gear to rig a rappel and take some photos of our celebration. After an amazingly successful barbecue (and a confused couple of guys who climbed past us), we were excited for our big climb the next day. Moments after we started driving towards Mount Temple, I began checking the updated forecasts: worse, same, worse, terrible. Noah pulled the car over to confirm, and after some deliberation we decided not to climb atop the highest peak in the area during thunderstorms. Another bail for the books…

 

 

Not Quite a Failure, Still a Bail

On the drive back we considered our options and decided on another huge climb whose name doesn’t convey its menace: Fluffy Goat Butt Face. This 21 pitch 5.11c sport multi-pitch is not as big or committing as Temple, but it is nonetheless a huge undertaking. We drove one hour from Calgary, and then lightly bushwhacked for 3 hours in the dark to reach the base. By this point we were soaked by the dew on the tall grass, and both of us had gotten lackluster sleep. Noah in particular had gotten next to nothing, so he napped for 30 minutes on the scree before we roped up. The first 4 pitches were quick and easy until we hit the first 5.11. Much of the climbing was cryptic and technical face climbing on small holds, which I thoroughly enjoy, but is not particularly conducive to fast climbing. Most belays were hanging, and our feet quickly began to suffer. Noah had chosen tighter shoes, and with his existing toenail injuries, it was becoming very difficult to climb. Due to this I took all of the harder leads as we quested up the massive and exposed buttress. The rock was mostly “good” quality, but keep in mind, this is the Rockies, where good quality means only half the holds break. On a 5.11 roof crux, I took a whipper after my hand came off the wall holding a 30-pound block. Climbing an alternate way on the second attempt I made it past (can it count as an onsight still?). By 3pm we had made it to the base of pitch 14 where Noah took another nap on a small ledge. After he woke up, we decided to bail. Noah was certainly not feeling the best, and we still had a third of the climb left. We estimated if we tried to continue it would be a 20+ hour day, something that we had predicted from the start, but that I didn’t feel like putting Noah through in this state, on his birthday. We rappelled down and made our way back down the indistinct and overgrown path to the car to cap off a slightly successful day. Evan laughed that we had another bail to add to the list, but given that we had 13 pitches of successful and fun climbing, I think it was not quite a failure.

 

Ice Climbing in August

One more good day was really needed to make this trip a success, so Noah took Evan and I out to Booming Ice Chasm. This cave maintains a temperature of -2C year-round, making it accumulate and retain ice flows even in August. Now any trip involving Evan is bound to revolve around a photoshoot, and that means some serious extra shenanigans. In this case it was carrying a huge strobe light and doing all sorts of interesting rigging.

We got up early in the morning and made the long drive out. After several hours on the highway, we pulled off the pavement and Noah opened a “gate” that was more like disassembling the fence. We made a surprising distance on the road in my Mitsubishi Lancer, before continuing the trek on foot. We bashed straight up the mountain and traversed the cliffs to start gearing up at the entrance of the cave. Putting on winter layers in the summer sun is an interesting experience to say the least. Noah went first to rig ropes and anchors. We had 210m of rope that we hauled up (yes our packs were HEAVY, especially Evan with his camera equipment). All the rope was fixed from top to bottom so we would have an escape option if something went wrong. The entrance to the ice cave begins with a tight constriction on ice coated rock. When you emerge into the cave, sound echoes around the glittering icy walls booming as it intensifies (hence the name). Bulges of perfectly smooth and solid ice undulated down the chasm and about halfway down, a large chandeliered flow emerged from the wall to the side. The whole environment was quite spectacular, and we were all stoked to do some ice climbing. A lot of faff with the strobe light occurred but eventually we climbed about halfway up the cave to where the vertical ice fall was. Evan’s plan was to put the strobe behind the ice fall so it would glow in the photos. I set it up almost inside the hollow pillar as Noah setup for a lead shot. When Evan triggered the strobe, my entire field of view lit up with the power of the sun and blinded me. “HOLY SHIT!” Evan exclaimed as he looked at his camera. I went down to belay Noah, and we acquired the money shots. After that we were satisfied with photos, and all climbed out in celebration. Finally, a true success.

 

Anti-redemption

I was going to leave the next morning, but Noah and Evan convinced me to stay a couple more days because of promising weather. A few days later I found myself about 12km from the car in complete darkness. While stashing gear Noah and I heard the huge thunderous noise of a falling serac, which seemed to shake the earth. Luckily our climb was off to the side of the fall zone. We started bashing up some heinous scree on a moraine, aiming in the direction we thought the climb was based on yesterday’s view. After a while we wondered why we hadn’t gotten to the base yet, until suddenly the wall appeared just metres in front of us. The climb was supposed to be just left of a small waterfall, and we could see one just beside us. We tried to match it to the topo but had difficulties. After about 30 minutes of looking around we pondered: “if this isn’t the right waterfall, which one is it?”. I looked at the photo of the face from the previous night and saw a prominent waterfall in the center of the face right below the seracs. Noah and I panicked at the thought that we were below the seracs, and began to run away as fast as possible, once sufficiently far away, Noah mentioned that the waterfall was likely the “spiciest” water we’ve ever drank. We decided it was best to wait for dawn so we could see an outline of the mountain before trying to search any further. When that moment came, we realized we had been right all along, and we were never in danger. We went back to our initial waterfall and looked at the photo again. The reason we couldn’t find the corner beside the waterfall was because the waterfall had grown to engulf the entire pitch. Noah tried climbing further left but the slick quartzite made it look like he was trying climb on soap, and he eventually bailed on the attempt. With the sun fully rising at this point, we no longer had any margin of time. That along with the possibility of other pitches being this wet made us decide on an emotionally destructive bail. After making it to the mountain with good weather, neither of us had predicted another bail until right before it happened. We turned around and marched our heavy gear back to the car. Sometimes trips don’t end on a high note. Noah did eventually complete the climb and posted a trip report: [https://www.ubc-voc.com/2024/10/19/the-greenwood-jones-v-td-5-10-1300m-on-the-north-face-of-mt-temple].

 

Conclusion

All in all, this was still a great experience, but it clearly had at least as many downfalls as it did successes. Sometimes things are out of your hands. In an alternate universe I had an incredible time in the bugaboos, climbed Mount Temple, and got back to Vancouver in time for a few more objectives to cap off the summer. I’m sure lots of others have had unexpected injuries, weather, etc. get in the way of a dream itinerary too. The best you can do is make the best of it and hope for better next time. I wrote most of this report mid trip, while the events happened. The initial name was supposed to be “Rockies Redemption”, and it often looked like it might stay so, but in the end, I decided to go with Noah’s suggestion of “Bow Valley Blues”. Someday I hope to get a real “Rockies Redemption”, so one day, while a VOCer is reading this by a cozy hut woodstove, they’ll have to check the archives to find the sequel…