Related: McGill Shoulder Rogers Pass: Stiff Slabs and Bare Ice

Report from January 22, 2022

Freddy and I arrived at the Bostock parking lot at 8:15 AM. With the weather being a big ol’ “meh” of poor visibility and questionable snowpack stability, we decided to revisit a classic, the McGill Main Chutes. The area had been closed for two days prior due to highway avalanche control. We figured the run would offer some excellent powdery skiing and remain conservative enough for the hazard at play (several persistent weak layers buried throughout the snowpack). We slogged up the McGill Shoulder through the denser, bushier forest of the Northern Selkirks, staying on the shoulder’s crest. We were trail-breaking the whole time – I bet the groups behind us enjoyed that.

At 1600m (the magic elevation), the trees started thinning out considerably, making route-finding a whole lot easier. While we were trenching through more than 40cm of light and dry powder, the sun pierced through the clouds. What a heartwarming surprise! We could barely see the peaks across the Trans-Canada Highway corridor.

After much effort (and sweat), we reached the treeline where the top of the McGill Main Chutes is located at 2130m. We crossed the shoulder’s crest onto the SW aspect, punching through a few cornices lined up on the ridge. We followed a high traverse, crossing above the Gunbarrels, two straight cleared paths through the trees. Those are awesome options during bouts of heightened avalanche hazard since the potential for large destructive avalanches within this feature is limited.

We dug a test profile to assess the snowpack instabilities. A thick layer of faceted crystals had been buried the week prior. Several natural and skier-triggered avalanches had slid on this persistent weak layer. When our test results showed the layer was stubborn to release, we transitioned for the descent.

During our change-over, we spotted a giant crown along the chute’s top, evidence of past avalanche activity. It was clear the guts would be icy and littered with death cookies but the trim lines on both sides of the slidepath were untouched. The area hadn’t been skied yet (a perk of cutting your uptrack) so we dove right into the first of the McGill Main Chutes.

I followed the crown across the first chute, stumbling a few times on buried debris and ducked into sparse trees to the skier’s right. Boy, was the snow incredible! This is the kind of snow dreams are made out of! We slowed down once we reached the path’s runout. We crossed over the rough avalanche debris and ducked left into the sparse forest.

Ready for lap two, we slapped on our skins at 1600m, where the trees thin out. We wrapped around the shoulder to connect with our original uptrack, now almost icy due to skier traffic over the last hour. We sped up the track, passing a few groups along the way. After all the trail-breaking work, climbing up an established uptrack was an absolute breeze. At 2130m, we traversed again and crossed above the first chute to ski the second. Only perform this traverse after assessing snowpack stability since it exposes you to two huge start zones with serious consequences.

We clipped into our bindings and glided downhill. Again, the snow was sublime. We skied past the avalanche debris and into some old-growth forest that led to a pillowy clearing. I recommend following the slope’s fall line, straight down the chutes. It lines up with the clearing perfectly. Once we hit the Bostock Trail, which is easy to blow past in all the excitement, we followed the trail back to the parking lot, heading SE.

Route Info

5-6 h	1200m	7.9 km	980-2135 m

The post McGill Main Chutes: My Go-To Avalanche Path Skiing appeared first on The Uptrack.

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Report from January 16, 2020

After touring more than 2300m the day before, we sluggishly rolled in the Bostock parking lot a few km west of the Rogers Pass Discovery Center. I could tell my body wasn’t quite awake yet but it didn’t take long for my mood to improve. Call it Pavlovian conditioning or ski touring mojo magic, I was fully alert once I clipped in my Plum tech bindings. I told Cedrik I was planning on taking it slow today. Boy, was I wrong! We raced up the McGill Shoulder’s established uptrack, a testimony of its frequent use. We whizzed by the heavily loaded trees avoiding snow bombs left and right. Unlike the tracks laid up the Fingers on the foothills of Mt MacPherson, this path was progressive and expertly crafted. It was clear an experienced rider had created it. In our ski touring lingo, we call this “having a vision”, a clear one at that.

Climbing the McGill Shoulder in Rogers Pass is no joke. It’s a long ascent with a constantly steep incline through an endless forest. At treeline, we eventually passed a couple of quiet European skiers, judging from their foreign gear. We leapfrogged each other until they dropped into the McGill main SE chutes after triggering a meter-wide wind slab nearby. This fact didn’t alarm us since it was an isolated event, that can be avoided with careful route-finding and a good dose of experience. We pushed on, climbing the narrowing ridge ahead.

Once we became sick of kick-turning every second, we resorted to bootpacking the McGill Ridge. The moment I stepped off my skis, I sank down to my waist. This is the BC Interior after all. We get a lot of snow. I literally had to crawl on all fours, grabbing the sporadic buried trees (or what was left of its very tip) for assistance.

The snow hardened into a thick slab as we gained the top of the exposed ridge. High winds during a particularly brutal storm had displaced loose powder and packed it down, creating touchy wind slabs on all aspects. Every step or so, I plunged my pole deep through the snow’s surface, feeling for a discontinuity in the snowpack’s structure. Experience definitely helps understand what’s under your feet by evaluating the force required to punch through the distinct layers. As suggested by the daily avalanche bulletin, those wind slabs would be our biggest concern today.

We proceeded as high as we could before deeming the risk too great. At that point, the slabs were reactive to our weight, judging from the hairline cracks shooting past my skis. We hastily transitioned for the descent and backtracked to a group of small trees close by. That was our safe spot for the time being. From there, we skied extra conservatively. As much as I enjoy promoting safety in avalanche terrain, I’m no Avalanche Canada poster boy. I’m comfortable with some level of risk. This time though, I made sure our path through the mountains was as safe as humanly possible. We avoided convexities and wind-loaded pockets, kept constant visual contact, and skied the lowest incline. Even then, we triggered a few isolated slabs in the gully below. Thankfully, the slabs wouldn’t propagate further than a ski’s length since they were a few days old.

As for the powder… oh goodness gracious. It was sublime. I knew I had stumbled across perfection. This was it, although not as good as yesterday’s snow in the Monashees. That was perfection. I think I’m just becoming a snow snob these days. We also encountered a sketchy icefall hidden beneath some snow. I ended up sidestepping down with the help of nearby bushes. Fun times! And so, our adventures on the McGill Shoulder of Rogers Pass ended with copious amounts of snow and a short (loud) tour along the Trans-Canada Highway’s enormous snowbanks.

Route Info

6-7 h	1315 m	9 km	880-2255 m

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