The quantum theory of parallel universes is not the problem, its the solution…
– David Deutsch
If you have been following along you will recall that we last left our intrepid crew enjoying the aftermath of a long but fruitful day in the Asulkan valley. The fatigue was accumulating and obviously another rest day was in order. Mostly spent lounging in camp long enough for the boredom to overwhelm us, precipitating yet another drive into the Stoke.
One climbing day left was all we were going to be able to squeeze in on this trip. After pouring over the various guidebooks and maps we settled on Lookout Mountain. The short approach was attractive, but we knew that we would be in for another longish day, possibly accentuated with some unknowns.
Lookout Mountain: 2,308m was most likely first climbed in 1899 by one or another of those early Glacier House period climbers, and looks unassuming from most vantage points. Mostly because it is dwarfed by some seriously bigger and more attractive peaks nearby. That however does not make it any easier to get up…
For this climb we opted to go even lighter yet than we had gone all week. We eschewed the rope and thus all of the accoutrements and impedimenta that go with it; left the helmets behind also. Plus with even less food, and only 1 litre of water, we couldn’t really get too much lighter if we tried.
Morning arrived, and apparently far too soon, with Renee quizzing us through the tent door, asking if we were still going. Damn! Slept in. I hastily crawled out of my cocoon and stuffed a handful of something down my pie hole, with Kevin following right behind me. Fortunately we were already packed, so it was just a matter of lacing up boots, and putting one foot in front of the other up the trail. Only an hour late. The first portion of the trail was a reprise of our prior climbing day, but soon it split off and took a steeper course to the east. Even though we had a rest day I was feeling the accumulation of a weeks worth of climbing in my leaden legs; it was starting to takes its toll.
Before long, and much to our surprise, we came to the end of the trail. I mean that it really just ends abruptly on some slabs of rock. If I was a day hiker, I’d ask for my money back. I really wasn’t feeling it, but Renee, was feeling it even less so she sensibly decided to call it then and there. Unlike on other occasions we didn’t discuss it much. Kevin handed her the bear spray, and after a brief refresher on its use, she then turned to head back down the trail, whilst we turned and headed up the slabby rock in front of us. I was thinking to myself that I would only go a little bit higher, just to see what it was like.
The next section was actually really enjoyable (sort of). Long slabby sections punctuated with short blocky bits, and cliff areas that required some careful route finding; although there were cairns everywhere, it was challenging and hard to tell which ones to follow. I have to admit that we added to any future confusion, by contributing some of our own to aid in our descent. The rock was pretty solid, fun to climb, and an uncharacteristic burnt orange or orpiment colour.
I was getting ready to throw the towel in with every step now, yet I still wanted to see what was around the next corner or rise; and before long I also had the faint scent of the summit. No turning back. Save nothing for the swim back. After about 400m of elevation gain we were able to get to the top of a gentle and pleasant moraine which we easily followed to its end, where we were faced with some more blocky scrambling and some snow chutes, which eventually brought us to the glacier. Here it was quite evident; the impact of glacial recession. At one time getting onto the glacier would have been undoubtably much easier, as it also would have been with spring or early summer snow. Now, in mid-August, not so much, as there was a sketchy moat and loose rock to factor into the equation. The guidebooks mention an alternate approach from Perley Rock, but the current condition of the glacier looked as if this would be highly impractical, except as a ski excursion in winter.
Regardless, we were here now, and it was time to don crampons and get out onto the bare ice. Back in the planning stages of this trip we were all freaking out a bit, about the weight our packs were going to be, so each of us purchased new aluminum ones that weighed in at a featherweight 320 grams. Although they were only used as ballast in our packs thus far, on the two other climbing days of this trip. Now however, they were going to be put to the test.
You can imagine my consternation when one crampon falls off in the steepest and most runout part of the glacier. Fortunately the leash saved the crampon from sliding away and bouncing out of sight. I don’t mind freely saying that I was getting more than a little bit gripped as I was trying to reattach the fucker with one hand, whilst having a death grip on my ice axe with the other hand. Eventually I got it back on and was able to move upwards to where the angle of the ice backed off. I look back down and sure enough, Kevin has the exact same problem. We soon realized that even though we had both fitted the crampons to our boots at home, neither of us had really done them tight enough. Fortunately they are dead easy to field adjust, and that’s exactly what we did, and we had no troubles for the remainder of the day. But… the thought was lingering in the backs of our minds. Definitely a lack of confidence in the gear here. Give me my heavy but trusty steel Grivels, any day of the week, and I will gladly pay the weight penalty.
By now we were getting off of bare ice and onto snow, and then on to the gentler slopes of the upper glacier. There were a few cracks visible but no crevasses to speak of. Good thing too, because as you will remember, the rope was of course back in camp. It was easy going now as we worked around to the east side of the peak and finally off of the snow and onto some more easy blocky rock until we found ourselves on the broad summit of Glacier Crest Mountain. From there it was just a short jaunt over to the (actually lower) summit of Lookout. We had amazing 360 views that included everything in the Asulkan Group and the Sir Donald Group, and beyond. What was really fun was seeing Sir Donald from the south, and getting a good view of the summit by-pass route. We were also sorely tempted to head over and do the Youngs Peak traverse. It looked so tantalizingly close, yet we knew that it would add several km’s each way, plus some trickier climbing with no rope; not to mention we were plenty tired as it was.
We snapped a bunch of photo’s, tanked up on water from some small ponds, and began to retrace our steps back down the glacier. The memory of the earlier crampon failure was still fresh and forefront in our minds as we began the transition to the steeper bare ice, (where one wouldn’t want to slip) but they worked flawlessly on the descent. Before long we were past the dangerous bits and back onto the rock.
Now it was just a matter of following our cairns (more or less) back down to the trail. Interestingly we actually saw a few people wandering around up there. Not close enough to talk to. Don’t really know what they were up to. We drank some water at the trail, chatted with some German tourists, and hoofed it back to camp in short order.
Special acknowledgement
This trip like several others we have had in the region wouldn’t have been near as enjoyable were it not for our partner Kevin, and his tireless prep work. Talk about going the extra mile as usual. Meals prepped for the week. Tasty adult beverages. Stove, cooking gear, tents, spare gear in case any of ours got lost in transit; and of course his trusty truck. Even better… his knowledge of the local flora and fauna (especially bears) always kept us entertained, and safe.
Soundtrack Music
Pay Me My Money Down (Bruce Springsteen) | Idiot Wind (Bob Dylan) | Who Do You Love (George Thorogood) | Mercury in Retrograde (Sturgill Simpson)
Photos
K/B
Catering
Revelstoke Taco Club
Beer
Squirrel Chaser Hazy IPA