Photos courtesy of D. Silzer (cept’ the one of her)
Part 1…
There is something to be learned from a rainstorm. When meeting with a sudden shower, you try not to get wet and run quickly along the road. But doing such things as passing under the eaves of houses, you still get wet. When you are resolved from the beginning, you will not be perplexed, though you still get the same soaking. This understanding extends to everything.
― paraphrased from the Hagakure
Even though I was with a solid team of five other excellent people; there is always a funny little feeling I get inside when that ol’ chopper takes off and quickly fades into the distance, leaving me there with the pile of gear and even bigger pile of thoughts: Did we pack right? Bring enough food? Train hard enough? Will the weather hold? Holy crap, are we really that far from the nearest civilization? But the feeling dissipates along with the sound of the machine; because now none of that really matters anymore… regardless of what actually transpires you just have to make do.
The flight in had been fantastic; we had taken a very direct route from the small airstrip and straight over the mountains to our destination. The skies were bluebird clear and there was a sea of peaks stretching in all directions. In looking below we could see a wild and rugged country of mountains, rivers and forests scarred with both abandoned and fresh logging roads. Climbers in this part of the world have always had a certain love hate relationship with logging. The roads sure can open up access to make peaks available to climb more easily, yet often this comes with a stiff environmental impact and price as well.
If you ask any girl from the parish around,
What pleases her most from her head to her toes;
She’ll say, “I’m not sure that its business of yours,
But I do like to waltz with a log driver.”
For he goes birling down a-down white water,
That’s where the log driver learns to step lightly;
It’s birling down, a-down white water,
A log driver’s waltz pleases girls completely.
– Log Drivers Waltz
This area we are in is beautiful yet a bit daunting at the same time. Our little oasis was in the midst of several large glacial complexes that were ringed with some serious looking peaks. The first order of business though was to scope out a viable spot to set up shop. The landing zone would have been great level area for a camp, but was just a little too far from a good source of running water. We soon found a nice flat spot a bit higher up the moraine that ended up being our home for the next week. This was a bit closer to the climbs, nearer to reliable water, and presumably had more chance of some wind to help combat the insects. Big black voracious horseflies took the dayshift, while the ubiquitous mosquitos worked the nightshift. Luckily for us the skeeters were pretty minimal compared to many places we have been in the past. There was a lovely mosaic of alpine flowers in the area, and as I have seen many times in similar locations; hummingbirds darting about.
Master Po: Fear is the enemy, trust is the armor.
Young Kwai Chang Caine: But not knowing what will happen am I not wise to be afraid?
Master Po: He who conquers himself is the greatest warrior. Do what must be done with a docile heart.
Young Kwai Chang Caine: Master. How can I know if this is possible for me?
Master Po: Listen for the color of the sky. Look for the sound of the hummingbirds wings. Search the air for the perfume of ice, on a hot summer’s day. If you have found these things, you will know
Day one was hot and clear. We set up the camp nicely, and after some grub decided that we should do a brief recce. Our whole team headed up the remainder of the moraine above us and onto a rocky ridge that had some nice heather patches. Three of the group descended westward to check out the approach to the Manatee Glacier, while the other three ascended the ridge to the north to see what the routes would be like to the peaks of Oluk and Dolphin. Both groups reported back that their respective access was good, and so with that we then made our way back down to the tents.
In years gone by we would have thought nothing of drinking our fill out of clear mountain streams, and did so regularly, and with no ill effects. It seems however, that the serious threat of marmot spread giardia has spooked us to a certain degree these days. That coupled with the fact that reasonably well working water filters are now commonplace, sealed the deal that we would be filtering drinking water even in this seemingly pristine setting. We potentially would have been okay considering the incubation period of the parasite is between one and two weeks, but nobody really wanted to chance it. Especially considering some of the damages to the body it can cause, have been known to be permanent. The stream which also served as a beer cooler was only a few minute walk from camp. With three filter units in use, we were easily and quickly able to supply clean water for the group. Two or three trips a day kept filled all the bottles and water bladders we had.
That in a nutshell is the mystery of the quantum: When an electron is observed it is a particle, but between observations its map of potentiality spreads out like a wave. Compared to the electron even a platypus is banal.
– Hans Christian Von Baeyer
Manatee and Remora
Day two dawned with deep rubicund skies, and I couldn’t help thinking of the old adage about sailor take warning. We had decided the night before to go for broke and attempt Wahoo right away. We knew from the onset of the trip that unfortunately there would only be five of us attempting the actual climbs; our sixth man is sort of on the injured reserve list and acted as basecamp manager and first class barista; and in fact was going in for hip surgery just days after our planned return. That didn’t stop him from getting up the ridge with us a couple of times however. (Note to self… another definition of tough.) So with that said, we were within a relatively short time sorting ourselves into a rope of two and a rope of three on the glacier. Lower down on the bare ice we were able to move unencumbered and without crampons as it had a lot of dirt and rock embedded in it and was fairly low angled. As it steepened and became cleaner however, we donned the crampons. Also as it steepened the surface transitioned from ice to more snow and we had to do considerable tactical navigation in order to weave our way through the crevasses. Some of these appeared to be very deep and many were hidden. What had looked as a simple route from below became a veritable maze that was becoming increasingly difficult to negotiate. I had made several wrong turns and did some amount of backtracking when it became obvious that this direction offered no sane or safe path forward. I finally and reluctantly turned back at one very unhealthy snow bridge over an icy cerulean chasm.
We had squandered valuable time with this exercise before we decided to try further north and closer to the peaks themselves. This in itself took some tricky route-finding but it became clear that we would be able to make it through. In time our objective came into view. We were disheartened however. The route looked fairly steep and not in good condition for the group, nor was there probably by this time an adequate amount of daylight left to try it now in any event, although in relative terms it was still early in the day. We decided to abandon the current attempt, but carried on up the glacier some more distance in hopes of spying the approach to Sirennia. We were just getting to where we were able to start seeing some route approaches when I punched through a hole and sank up to my crotch with one leg. This crevasse was a very deep blue hole fading into the icy darkness far below and that was sobering. Kevin had earlier spotted bear tracks on the glacier; and I started to wonder how they deal with crevasses? At one point in the trip we spotted something moving fast on the glacier in the distance, sort of silhouetted against the skyline. We speculated at the time and even months later just what it could have been. Bear, Wolverine, Sasquatch… Bear won out in the end, but we will never be one hundred percent sure.
We continued only a bit further before we decided to turn around and head back to camp. Not long after we made it off the ice and were retracing our steps back up and over the ridge, the sky turned dark and it started to rain hard. This was soon accompanied by thunderclaps and exposed as we were, along with portable lightning rods on our packs, the level of nervousness was a tad high. Not only did we not want to fall into any crevasses, nobody wants to be electrocuted either. Those types of things tend to ruin your whole day. The downpour fortunately was short-lived, and although wet, we were soon safe back in camp, and the only harm done was to our egos. Wahoo would have to wait for later in the trip.
The schedule for day three was to have us climb Dolphin. The summit was capped by cloud in the morning but there was considerable blue sky elsewhere, so we made our way up the approach ridge in preparation. Two of the lads realized at the rope up spot on the upper glacier that they had left their sunglasses back in camp. Obviously this posed a minor dilemma. Snow blindness is no joke. Franck elected to turn back; figuring no summit is worth the risk of injury. Kevin on the other hand who wore regular eyeglasses opted to tape his glasses, which is akin to an old Inuit trick for handling bright snow. So after this was decided we forged upward in a single rope of four. Not ideal from any perspective, but on a glacier such as this one, not the worst situation either. This much smaller glacier was also packed with some surprises as Bill found out soon enough. He was leading when he punched through a crevasse in a similar fashion to what I had done only a day earlier. In spite of that we kept a fast pace and were making good time.
The weather changed rapidly, and the next thing we knew the clouds had us enveloped from top and bottom and we were totally socked in. This made it next to impossible to navigate efficiently. We still were encountering many hidden crevasses that we had to deal with and only had a very vague direction of where the summit was. The GPS indicated that we were close but that was all, and was of no use for the type of navigation we needed in these circumstances. Upon coming to a disconcerting set of crevasses that barred our way we changed direction and being at the other end of the cord I started leading and mostly went straight up the steep slope, as opposed to the gently traversing path we had been on. I had a short rope situation between Diane and myself and had her anchor the rope securely with her ice axe while I progressed. We proceeded in this inchworm fashion for a while and crossed a couple of sketchy crevasses in the process, before this also proved futile due to lack of visibility. We down climbed to a more level section and tried to sit it out for a bit, but the weather wasn’t improving. At one point you couldn’t see the climber at the other end of the rope. At least the threat of snow blindness had rapidly diminished.
Approach to Dolphin – Oluk Col
We were so very close or so we thought, but decided again to let discretion be the better part of valour. With heavy hearts we turned around and headed down… We were however in full agreement that we would return to the route on the next good day.
An event of real interest happened on our descent however. After we un-roped and got off the glacier we took a slightly different route down the approach ridge than our ascent. While still on the upper portion we made what was an almost archeological find. We found a faded Whilans sit harness and an old pair of Galibier boots just lying together on the ground. It was almost a bit eerie; like the climber that was wearing them had just vanished. The harness could perhaps be explained, but for what possible reason could someone be compelled to leave their boots in such a location? The original blue of the harness had long since faded to white and even though they were coming apart in places the boots were still amazingly intact, and they appeared to have been there for some time; perhaps for even as long as from when the first ascents were done in the region in nineteen sixty seven. We treated the site very reverently and it did not feel right to overly disturb it.
Franck and Colin met us close to the ridge top and we descended together. Once back at camp we saw that Colin had been busy by continuing to construct a protective ring of Inuksuk’s around the area. Eventually over the course of our stay in the area I think everybody got into the act and built at least one. Some were tiny, and others required two people to lift the stones. The Inuit ᐃᓄᒃᓱᒃ means roughly, something which acts for, or performs the function of a person. From what I gather an Inuksuk that specifically takes the form of a person is called an Inunnguaq, and may be a somewhat later development in Inuit history, possibly even influenced by contact with early European explorers.
It’s almost unbelievable that this brings us to day four already. The weather on the peaks was really low in the morning so we took this opportunity as a rest day. The kicker of course… yep, you guessed it… is that the weather gradually improved, and by mid-day it was actually pretty darn nice. The group kind of split up and people did their own things, like some short hikes, reading, writing, doing tai-chi, or drinking coffee. Colin did a first class job of ensuring we were adequately caffeinated, by brewing up proper cups of the delicious elixir at the most appropriate times.
Don’t ask for hot cocoa there
They’ll say you’ve gone loco there
But say caffeine or coffee bean and they’ll say ay ay ay
-The Coffee Song
Another fun rest day activity was patching boots. Not only were those old boots we discovered on the mountain coming apart, but the plastic boots I had lent to Franck for this trip were cracking and disintegrating to the point that large leprous chunks were sloughing off with alarming regularity. Plastic boots do not last forever as I found out. In fact they last much less than good old fashioned leather, or so it appears. It was a good thing that we had enough duct tape and gaffers tape to affect some repairs. Each repair job lasted one day….
To be continued….