I had just bought a new 4-season tent and I was dying to try it out in the alpine. And so, I turned to Google Earth for some ideas and the gears started turning. With our crazy winter snowpack still kicking around in the alpine and two days of rather good weather, backcountry skiing in the McCrae area seemed like a wonderful idea. I had already explored several times before with one instance written down in the trip report, McCrae Glacier: Season’s First Powder Turns. One problem: I didn’t have a partner. one should know never to venture out in avalanche terrain alone. When all hope was nearly lost, mountain man of the purest form, Mike Wigley (IG), basically a yeti by now, sent me a short message inquiring about possible summer skiing. It took no convincing to get him on board. The next morning, we were driving up the Akolkolex FSR for an overnight trip amongst the rugged Selkirks mountains.

Related: McCrae Glacier: Season’s First Powder Turn

Report from June 17th, 2020

Day 1: Flowing Through Mountains

Getting to the McCrae Lake Recreation Trailhead is an endeavor in its own right. Mike and I followed the Akolkolex, Crawford, and McCrae forest service roads, winding through the stunning sub-alpine terrain of the Selkirk Mountains. As I was dodging the world’s sharpest rocks and tailing the world’s slowest grader (see the end of the report for a nasty flat tire count), I was looking at familiar peak’s I’ve bagged in the past, but this time from another angle. This was so cool!

An hour later, we stopped 3km from the trailhead as the snow was blocking our progress on wheels. No problem! We got our skis and splitboard out of my Thule box, gathered our overnight camping gear, and casually walked up the blanketed road. Our sole plan was to spend some time in the alpine with no clear objective in mind. We simply hoped to find some good backcountry skiing around McCrae Peak.

After a few kilometers of skinning through some well-spaced trees, we entered the sub-alpine where we found a camping spot with a panoramic view of the Monashee and Gold Ranges from across the Columbia Valley. We stashed our overnight gear in the snow and proceeded towards McCrae Peak, or rather its north shoulder unofficially called the Moon Landing. We spotted a large cornice failure from the summit of McCrae Peak, reminding us of a major hazard at play.

With the sun hanging so high above the horizon and the warming temperatures, water from melting snow and rainfall trickles down the wind-hardened layers of cornices and breaks down the bond with the snowcapped peak or ridge. Eventually, the bond fails and the cornice is flung clean off. Henceforth, cornice avalanches are a huge consideration when planning summer ski tours, as are wet-loose and glide slab avalanches.

We looked at the drainage east of the peak, a whole new playground for Mike and I to explore. We spotted a peak with a nice 40-degree west face on the peak farthest from us. This slope would offer excellent afternoon skiing, albeit a little soupy. We also could see Comaplix Mountain, standing high and proud in the distance. I’ll add that one to my list.

We approached the ridge overlooking run #1 (closest red line) and scoped out the terrain below. When I was about to give up, Mike’s guide senses sniffed out a clean entrance above a large cliff band, hoping to find a way to sneak through the rocks. We only needed a sliver of snow really. Alas, our descent led to a dead-end which forced us into a long traverse across the top of the cliffs. With that much exposure below, I would’ve never attempted this move in full winter conditions. The avalanche hazard would’ve been too high. While the snow quality lacks during the summer months, the avalanche hazard is at an all-time low. Mind you, avalanches are still very possible if the conditions are right (think cornice failures and glide slabs)!

From the bottom of the cliffs, we toured back up the drainage almost gaining the east shoulder McCrae Peak. We skied down run #2 resulting in a smooth 200-meter descent in perfect corn snow. Losing no time, we climbed up the peak marked by a couple of “heli” flag. I suspected we were traveled over Selkirk Tangiers Heli Skiing’s expansive tenure. I tried my best to ignore my blistered ankles rubbing against my stock liners falling apart at the seams. After 100+ days, they were finally dying on me. That’s my bad for not following the advice I wrote in my previous article, How To Choose Ski Touring Boots in 2020.

The ski descent was all-time (for summer conditions). We arched big GS turns in corn snow turning into a soupy mess at the bottom. It didn’t bother us one bit. We were just stoked to be on planks. In early winter conditions, I bet its grassy slope would offer some half-decent backcountry skiing if you were keen to explore the McCrae Rec Area.

We scrutinized the valley below, searching for a way back to our planned campsite. We spotted a steep ridge connecting to the north shoulder that we had previously crossed. There it was: the way out. Fortunately, we also stumbled across a small stream, the result of crystal clear glacial runoff. This was a wonderful opportunity to replenish our exhausted water supply. I must have chugged a liter of ice-cold water. Fear the brain freeze!

It was 7 PM when we gained the north shoulder. Our original plan was to skin up the north shoulder towards McCrae Peak. Sadly, after getting a good look at it, the ascent was deemed too dangerous. We gazed west at the Monashees only to find an idyllic blue-rimed alpine lake, the true McCrae Lake, and the main attraction of this region amongst hikers of all levels.

After more than 9 hours of ski touring, it was time to get back to camp. We didn’t fancy cooking in the dark. We decided to climb up a steep gully leading back to the foot of the McCrae Glacier. This option seemed like the quickest route, and booting up would give our sore hip flexors a well-deserved break.

Once past the col, we shot straight for camp and stumbled across a turquoise glacial pond frozen over by the dropping temps. Of course, Mike couldn’t resist the urge to perform a perfect pond skim on his splitboard. Smooth as butter minus an uncomfortable splash at the crotch.

Once we back at camp, I pitched up my bright-yellow Black Diamond Eldorado tent. Judging from my cursing, my pitch required far more practice. Mike, on the other hand, set up his minimalist bivy bag in less than a minute. I need one of those for future fast and light alpine missions. We cooked our hearty meals under a glowing ball of orange flames setting behind Mt Macpherson a little past 9 PM. Days are crazy long so close to the solstice. I fell asleep to the hypnotic flapping of my tent’s fabric in the gentle wind under a purple-pink sky. According to Mike, the stars were sublime that night.

Day 2: Timing is Everything

We woke up to blue skies and above-zero temps. It was quite nippy: the sun was still hiding behind the north shoulder. We packed camp, ate breakfast, and headed towards the McCrae Glacier. Today was going to be a summit day.

We zig-zagged up the glacier, no crevasses in sight. It was scolding hot. We noticed the stark contrast between the shadowed crust and sunlit corn as we crossed to and from the obscured slope. Sunlight has such a huge impact on snow conditions at this time of the year. Our timing was perfect. We skinned the snow during its transition from crust to corn whereas it will hold an edge without giving way. The west-facing route that would be climbed on foot was lingering in the shadow, which would provide excellent booting conditions.

We slipped our crampons on and bolted up the mountainside following the ridge to McCrae Peak. What a glorious view of the Goat, Gold, and Monashee Ranges, complemented by the deep blue of Lower Arrow Lake! It doesn’t get better than that.

As we were about to drop down our ascent route and face an icy crust, we noticed a clean line down the south aspect, now baked by the morning sun. We skied down the 400-meter run in perfect spring conditions with the most impressive backdrop. This is what I live for!

We looked back at our run. I was glowing. Mike noted how the feeling was comparable to carving down a well-maintained groomer. Coming from the East Coast, I couldn’t agree more.

We slapped some more sunscreen on our faces as Mike mentioned how sunburns are the bane of all gingers. So true. With no time wasted, we raced up the south bowl towards a col high up on the west ridge, the standard uptrack when backcountry skiing on the McCrae Glacier. The 250-meter climb generated more heat that my body could handle. I was on the verge of heat exhaustion when we connected with the head of the glacier. We transitioned and skied down the wettest snow I have ever encountered since the sun had baked the surface for more than 5 hours by now. We knew that going into it. It was unavoidable and the fastest way back to camp.

After grabbing our stashed overnight gear, we glided down through the sub-alpine forest towards my vehicle. Without a clean bobsleigh run, the forest was a slight bit more disorientating than I remembered. I pulled out my GPS tracker a few times as I was trying to join up with the McCrae FSR. We were back at the car in no time. And then, I got a triple flat tire on the drive down… yes three flat tires. That’s fucked! Apparently, the Akolkolex FSR was littered with carbide shrapnel (hardened steel) from an excavator’s bucket after the road had been recently graded. Oh, one has to keep the adventure alive!

This trip was an awesome opportunity to learn more from Mike, a seasoned splitboarder who has done a bunch of insane winter expeditions in the mountains. On top of that, he’s just an all-around nice guy with the most genuine passion for his craft.

For anyone that hasn’t gotten to it yet, the McCrae Rec Area is one hell of an early and late season backcountry skiing destination. I would always recommend this spot to friends looking for a shred.

Route Info

Day 1	13 h	1800 m	17.5 km	1770-2300 m
Day 2	6 h	800 m	9.5 km	2100-2505 m