Related: Sapphire Col Traverse: An Alpine High

Report from March 9, 2021

Freddy and I started our day at the Illecillewaet parking lot. It was 9 AM, quite the late start for such a long traverse. The weather, stability and snowpack were absolutely perfect – nice and warm in the sun, cold and preserved snow in the shadow. With days getting longer by the minute, we believed we could fit the Sir Donald to Macdonald Traverse, although we might finish with the headlamps lighting our way down. We followed the Sir Donald trail (a refrozen mess at this time of the year) which led us up the imposing Vauxv Valley common to Uto Peak and Mt Sir Donald. We climbed the Vaux Moraine, a relic of past glaciations.

With our difficult time constraint, Freddy “the Machine” sped up the biggest moraine. I’ll be honest, I was totally out of breath. We gained a vast bench where the Sir Donald Campground lies, buried under meters of Selkirk snow. The Sir Donald-Uto Col (2550m) rose above our heads, revealing the exposed traverse we would soon perform. I reminisced about my previous scramble up the Uto SW Ridge. I truly had a blast completing this classic mountaineering route with Freddy, a few summers ago.

We ascended the SW slope of Mt Sir Donald, battered by strong winds and glazed by the spring sun, losing our edge a few too many times. Frustrated with the lack of traction, we opted to boot across the slope, through a shallow snowpack completely faceted by the cold alpine temps. Boy! Our post-holing was absolutely glorious – sarcasm intended. We swam through the sugar snow, our crampons painfully scraping against the smooth quartzite. From there, we traversed a thin band of snow, rock and ice above a sizable cliff band – no falling here. By noon, we were standing on the Sir Donald-Uto Col with half of our elevation gain completed. That was a push!

Earlier on we had watched a party of two back-track from the col. The cause was now very much apparent: they had triggered an isolated wind slab on the north aspect, starting right below a large cornice stuck to the NW ridge of Mt Sir Donald. Freaked out, they must have turned back. Their loss, our win! Since the resulting size 1 avalanche had already washed out the slope, neutralizing the hazard, we deemed it safe to ski the bed surface of mostly right-side-up snow as indicated by our probing. Still, we kept in mind the fact that we would likely find more of those isolated pockets of wind slabs, scattered on north-facing slopes. We skied the rolling slope, north of the col, and traversed the Uto Glacier, a relatively flat blanket of ice.

Shrouded in the shadow of Mt Sir Donald, the glaciated valley was bitterly cold. We toured up the south slope spanning from the east ridge of Uto Peak to gain an obvious col (2365m). This is a faster, but riskier alternative to circumnavigating the ridge. At the col, we peered down the north couloir below. We were warned that it was a serious line with serious consequences. The upper funnel must have been 45-50° which I suspected sheltered wind slabs. It spun into a 2m choke, peppered with rock and ice, then opened up into a large avalanche fan – an hourglass-shaped couloir. To safely control the slope, I built an anchor around a nearby horn and belayed Freddy while he ski-cut the upper funnel. He released a small slab, nothing of consequence. Due to the narrow choke, sluff was our mortal enemy here. We carefully jump-turned down the line, side-stepping down the choke and letting our sluff fly through the choke. I felt the jolt reverberating through my knees as I hit a couple of hidden rocks beneath. Spicy is the word of the game!

We pressed onwards, ascending the Eagle Glacier. By now, the crevasses were completely filled in; we measured a snowpack depth of more than 320cm, longer than what I could gauge with my probe. We decided against roping up to speed up our ascent. We sped across the Eagle Glacier which eventually turned into the Avalanche Glacier. We were both so stoked to explore the remote confines of the park: with new terrain comes infinite possibilities! In the distance, we could see two guys completing the Golden-Rogers Traverse, currently on my to-do list.

We eventually stepped out of the shadow cast by Eagle Peak, into the warm sunlight. Ultimate comfort! We climbed a wide col to the NE ridge of Avalanche Mt, keeping our distance from the delicate cornices clinging to the massive 500m headwall to the north. We pushed on up the NE ridge and gained the top of the Avalanche North Glacier, granting us stunning close-ups of the Avalanche massif’s heavily-rimed peaks. By that point, we were halfway across the Sir Donald to Macdonald Traverse.

We skied down the Avalanche North Glacier, covered in the most idyllic of blower snow. We stuck to the high ground along the Avalanche NW Ridge to avoid the crevasse fields and seracs to the east. We glided past the NRC Col (2370m) towards which our fellow ski tourers veered off. After an incredible powder run, we arrived at base Mt Macdonald. Looking back, we scrutinized the dangerously glaciated east flank of the Avalanche North Glacier. Gnarly!

As the clouds rolled in, we toured up the steep, south slope of Mt Macdonald towards the Banana Couloir. The official route recommends skiing the Herdman Couloir, a mellower option, but the way up wasn’t as straightforward. We would have to either boot up a narrow chute, exposing ourselves to the overhead hazard or scramble across the Macdonald SW ridge, none of which made sense given the conditions. So, we beelined for the Banana Couloir, a prized line in both of our books.

After an exposed, 200m ascent, we gained the entrance of the Banana Couloir. A nest of old cordelette strung around a nearby horn indicated the obvious: a 10m rappel was required to safely enter the couloir. Fair enough, we had brought the rope for a reason. We set up a quick super-munter and rappelled into the line at dusk, landing in soft powder. That was going to be an epic shred!

Just like that, we had struck gold. The couloir had been loaded by the trade winds, stacked with bottomless powder. Even better, it wasn’t slabby at all. However, we paid a heavy price: our sluff was difficult to manage. We could barely link two turns, having to stop to let the snow run its course. Still, it was an unbelievable descent in a couloir that’s rarely skied. We landed in the Crossover Bowl under a faint glimmer of light. We turned on our headlamps and skied the right side of the valley, the bottom of which we reached by 6:30 PM. As buzzed as we were exhausted, we dragged our tired legs back to the Hermit parking lot by 7 PM. The sense of achievement – and relief – was positively overwhelming. The Sir Donald to Macdonald Traverse: another one for the books!

Route Info

11-13 h	2315m	18.5 km	1200-2700 m

The post Sir Donald To Macdonald Traverse: Glaciers & Couloirs appeared first on The Uptrack.

Related: Sapphire Col Traverse: An Alpine High

Report from December 3, 2020

I assembled the team: Iannick and Freddy, two experienced backcountry skiers that I would trust with my life if shit was to hit the fan. Our day began at the Loop Brook parking lot, frozen solid by the cold morning breeze. It’s no understatement that this drainage is an ice-box, being surrounded by some very serious glaciers. After a prompt transceiver check, we slogged up the Loop Brook, crossing fast-moving water at the Elephant Trunk. From there, we were but a short bushwhack away from the narrow moraine leading up to the Lily Glacier. Let’s call that one the Lily Moraine.

Along the way, we observed the presence of surface hoar on sheltered aspects, noticeable by the magical glimmer the crystals produce as they reflect sunlight. We quickly hopped on the Lily Moraine, a high-ground route that would negate the overhead avalanche hazard from the exposed west slope of Mt Afton. The Bonney massif stood high above us with its heavily crevassed glacier lying at the base of its headwall. From our perch, we could spot the Dome and its col, the high point of the Lily-Dome Traverse.

We shimmied along the Lily Moraine until we cleared the hazard posed by Mt Afton as the tree cover started to thin out. From there, we traversed through the low ground and connected with yet another moraine, looker’s left of the Lily Glacier, which was barely in our view at that point. This was a painful reminder of global warming’s impact on small glaciers. The small toe had receded halfway up the valley, now only a few hundred meters below the Lily Col.

Eventually, the height-of-land walk came to an end as we reached the end of the moraine, just a little above treeline. We now faced the rocky, wind-scoured west face of the Rampart, a broken, knife-edge ridge that looks like the back of a stegosaurus. Let my nerdy Jurassic reference sink in with you a bit!

Since we planned on traversing below the slope, the overhead hazard was worth discussing. Things were looking good: the natural avalanche cycle happened more than a week ago, the aspect, albeit solar, wasn’t warmed up enough by the low-lying December sun, and the ridgetop winds would remain calm for the foreseeable future. Excellent! During a brief lunch break, we met two aspiring ski guides, Jeff and Joe, people I consider friends and touring partners to this day. They unintentionally joined us for the ascent since we advanced at nearly the same pace.

We began the uneventful crossing under the west face of the Rampart. Uneventful is good! The katabatic winds had done a number on the snow’s surface. The 20cm of dry powder below turned into a hard crust. It took all the edging I could muster to maintain traction on the wind-affected snow. I was damning myself for now bringing ski crampons. Somehow, Iannick had no trouble dealing with the side-hilling as he bolted way past us on his fruitless quest to drain his infinite supply of energy.

We escaped the Rampart’s crosshairs just as the snow was visibly warming up, a reminder that moist snow spells disaster. We pressed on towards the upper bench of the Lily Glacier. As we crossed above the Lily Col (2480m), the winds, funnelled through the terrain constriction, dramatically picked up to the point where they almost knocked Freddy over. We felt like one of those polar explorers forging a path through a frozen landscape riddled with sastrugi.

Once we reached the toe of the upper Lily Glacier, we donned the glacier travel and crevasse rescue equipment, aka all the dangly bits. After a short refresher on glacier rope management, we began the short pilgrimage up the glacier, now roped up. It’s worth noting we roped up for practice since the Lily Glacier is barely crevassed. Usually, I don’t bring the gear up there, but it doesn’t hurt to be on the cautious side.

We eventually reached the base of the Dome Col, caked with faceted snow. I knew the sugary snow would make booting up the rock slab a chore. We packed away our glacier gear and prepped our backpacks for the short stint up the col, now lying in the shadow of the Dome.

To my surprise, the bootpack was easier than expected. Jeff and Joe made short work of it, following a well-established track that was put in a few days ago. Within minutes, Jeff and Joe, who were now standing proudly at the top of the col. Looking back, the views of Rogers Pass were absolutely stunning. This is a one-of-a-kind valley!

With much time to spare, we gained the Dome Col and peered past the Dome Col into Asulkan Valley, magical as always. A hundred meters away, our impromptu partners were perched above the Asulkan Glacier on a prominent ridge dividing the latter from the Dome Glacier, called the Cleaver. The Jupiter massif was standing high in the distance, towering over the Asulkan, a view that granted me a good bit of insight into the surrounding terrain. Those terrain photos will come in handy when I’ll be attempting the Jupiter Traverse in spring.

After a good fifteen minutes of rest, we clipped in our bindings and transitioned from the Cleaver onto the Dome Glacier through a precarious wind-battered ramp. This was now the second part of the Lily-Dome Traverse. The snow was, without a doubt, sub-par, an unavoidable fact of life when skiing exposed alpine terrain. Slow, cautious turns were the name of the game.

Surface conditions improved past the ramp. The wind-affected snow turned into light, fluffy powder. Based on our local observations as well as the avalanche forecast which indicated a “moderate” hazard at al[pine elevations, we decided on skiing the Dome Roll, a large convexity leading into a steep glacial slope. Otherwise, we would have veered right following the Cleaver and dropped into a mellower grade.

From the top of the glacier, the slope seemed to roll off into the unknown. I’ve got a particular dislike for rolling glaciers since I don’t get to scope out the crevasses below. After sending it off a serac in Chamonix on one of those, I learned my lesson. Nonetheless, the slope’s grade past the convexity took me by surprise, at which point I gained a little too much speed for my lightweight skis to handle. Luckily, conditions were prime for a quick brake as soon as I realized my predicament.

After sharing our stoke at the bottom of the glacier, we sneaked through a narrow, icy choke, located skier’s left of the Dome Headwall, a steep rock slab below the glacier’s toe. I was struck by the beauty of this feature, covered in clear blue ice! How pretty! We traversed a series of convoluted moraines towards the foothill of Mt Afton, only to burst through a pillow field right above the Asulkan Brook. From there, we performed the usual slog out of the Asulkan Valley and traversed back along the highway to the Loop Brook parking lot in the dark with the loud rumble of trucks whizzing by us.

With good terrain knowledge and proper training, the Lily-Dome Traverse is an accessible, uber-scenic alpine traverse along with the Little Sifton Traverse and the Sapphire Col Traverse. Highly recommended, go do it! Hire a guide if necessary. It’s worth its weight in gold.

Route Info

8-9 h	1600 m	18 km	1100-2590 m

The post Lily-Dome Traverse: Glacier Skiing At Its Finest appeared first on The Uptrack.