It was with mixed feelings that we were dragging our sorry asses up this well maintained yet very steep trail. A bit disappointed because we felt that our original objective on the other side of the valley was out of condition; yet excited at the possibility of tackling a peak none of us had been on before. After about 4 hours of sweat drenched effort we found a delightful meadow to bivi in at about 1,920m in elevation. Complete with soft grass, streams and waterfalls. We were above treeline but still in prime grizzly country. We had no bear canisters so we trusted in mostly luck. Not that we had packed in much in the way of food in any event. Bears aren’t picky eaters mind you. All this talk about bears might lead you to believe that this story continues in an ursine fashion but it does not. It is merely to illustrate our remote situation.
One suprise that was packed in however was 3 cans of beer! A very nice treat indeed at the end of the day. It was a welcome accompaniment to my meagre dinner of a unsatisfying small handful of jerky, nuts, and a snickers bar. It being summer and fairly north in latitude meant that it was going to be light late. It was cooling off a bit and the mosquitoes were coming out, so I opted to crawl into my new OR bivi sac, and get ready for the long night.
Nice bivi
Although it rained off and on several times overnight it never really amounted to more than sprinkles, and morning dawned mostly clear and fine. We had packed our gear the night before so it only took me minutes to choke down a hearty breakfast of a Cliff Bar and a packet of Gu before we were off. It was very pleasant going, up some easy boulders and talus and through a series of ramps, short cliff bands and low angled snow until we got to the glacier. It was sometime early on in the day when we heard the telltale shout of another climber. We didn’t think any more of it, as it is common to hear climbers shouting commands back and forth all of the time. Presumably another team out trying to beat the areas notorious weather to a summit.
The glacier was in great condition from a lack of crevasse perspective, and the snow offered excellent kick stepping and no crampons were needed, although we had them along for ballast. I can’t remember the last time I actually had to use them in the heat of battle. Eventually after several enjoyable hours we found ourselves at the col at the base of our route at close to 2,920m. By this point the wind had picked up and we had put on extra layers to ward off the chill. Also by this time the weather had started to turn (big surprise here!) and dark clouds were rapidly approaching from the west. The summit of the adjacent peak was now engulfed in clouds although our ridgeline and summit were still clear.
At the col
The climb was only rated 5.0 but based on the state of the incoming weather, the speed of the clouds and after some back and forth pondering we felt that there would be a good chance for us to get hit by rain (or worse) en-route, and not one of us felt the risk of that was worth the reward. We had planned an up and over traverse, but in the end we let discretion be the better part of valour. Some famous climber and hard man once said if it’s raining you should go home. And although it wasn’t raining yet, we heeded that sentiment and we left.
Heading down to the glacier
We started to retrace our steps and soon after is when the tone of the day changed somewhat. As we made our way off of the glacier and down through the rock bands we heard the unmistakable sound of a decent sized helicopter. It was coming from one of the nearby peaks and was hauling a loaded long-line. It made its way past our camp and landed in the meadows just across from us. It then took off again and went back to the peak. At this point in time we were still a fair ways off and couldn’t make out any details of what was going on. Soon after it made a second long-line trip to the meadows. This time the machine shut-down for five or ten minutes. It took off for a third time and disappeared towards the peak again. We lost sight and sound of it, and figured that was it, but after a long time it returned to the meadow again with a long line, this time we could tell a person was attached. We were almost back at our bivi and the whole time we had been speculating as to what was going on. We had several theories, but it remained a mystery. The chopper shut down again upon landing but soon restarted its engine and flew-off this time for good.
Obviously we were intrigued. We hummed and hawed for a bit about whether we would stay the night at our glorious bivi site or hoof it down the steep trail. The weather was still a bit iffy so we chose to hike out. We didn’t really have much food left, so that helped our decision. Within minutes we were packed and on the move…
It wasn’t long before we met a couple of haggard looking climbers sitting trailside. We stopped to exchange pleasantries and I asked them if they knew what all the shenanigans were with the helicopter. Yes, unfortunately as you will hear, they knew first-hand about it. An un-roped party of three was behind them on the same route. The rock on this climb is pretty solid quartzite and rated 5.3/5.4 ish. Climbing un-roped over this type of terrain in this area is fairly commonplace. Apparently a hold broke and one of the climbers fell over 300m to his death. Putting things together it had happened at the time we heard the shout. The two guys we met had a mobile phone with them and a fortunately a cell signal and were able to call it in. from what we could piece together the first two trips of the chopper were hauling off two of the climbers. The final trip was removal of the body. The guys we were talking to abandoned their summit attempt and were pretty shaken up over the whole affair. After hearing this story and realizing what we had been seeing was a body being hauled off, gave us pause to consider as well.
Two of us made an attempt on another peak several days later and although it was a beautiful day and we had the climb to ourselves my heart wasn’t really in it…
– Summer 2016, Selkirk Mountains