Related: Forever Young Couloir: Skiing The Earth’s Crack

Report from January 10, 2022

We started our day pretty late (as always) due to some gnarly highway conditions. If it wasn’t for the black ice, the compact snow would get you. We gathered our gear and headed up the railroad grade to the abandoned Glacier House. Only the foundations are left intact, now buried under a meter of snow. A distance later, we veered east on the Great Glacier Trail, leading us to the convoluted moraines below Lookout Col (2150m) and Glacier Crest (2251m). The snow gauge indicated a snow height of 195cm at 1300m. Unreal for this time of the year!

We stopped for a water break right below the moraines. In the winter months, the snow-laden terrain becomes riddled with large pillow lines and narrow canyons. An ascent to the looker’s left is possible but risky given the terrain traps and serious overhead hazard from the Perley Rock NW slope. The better approach is to climb the center-right of the landscape along the more gentle moraines, allowing a rather direct linkup with the toe of the Illecillewaet Glacier.

And so, we ascended the complex terrain as planned following an almost perfect uptrack, obviously forged by a ski guide – all the corners were dug out to make kick-turns easier. Eventually, the imposing glacier appeared over the moraines.

At 1980m, we stopped for a snack and roped up for the upcoming glacier travel. The first third of the ascent up the glaciated terrain is riddled with large crevasses, now bridged over by our thick snowpack. Most opt-out of roping up that portion. After three close calls in 2021, I don’t take the chance anymore. After all, the process takes less than 5 minutes.

As soon as we crossed the sketchy section bordered by humungous crevasses on both sides, we ditched the rope to speed up our travel. While a storm was forecasted for 4 PM, the rolling cloud cover indicated an earlier arrival. This was a sad moment. After hours spent in the shadow of the mountains, we had lost our source of Vitamin D. Damn! Doing the Ravens with low visibility would be “sub-optimal” to say the least. Fortunately, there was a brief break in the clouds, but only for a moment.

When you think you’re almost at the top, you’re definitely not – the Illecillewaet Neve (icefield) goes on forever. At least, the views from this perch are absolutely stunning. After another 3km of easy touring on the gentle, wind-swept grade, we arrived at the high point of our traverse (2540m), nestled between a glaciated ramp and a rocky ridge. In a classic Rogers Pass fashion, the storm moved right above us, with raging winds and snow falling sideways. All of a sudden, the light became as flat as it gets. We were moving inside a ping-pong ball.

After we’d found shelter behind a large wind lip, we quickly sorted our gear for the descent. I led the way heading generally NW across the rocky ridge, feeling the snow at every turn. The trick here is to stick to the ridge until the west slope of the Ravens fans out. We purposefully avoided the N-NW slope descending into the Lookout Bowl or any of the NW gullies. At this time, those would be heavily wind-loaded and offer no definition posing a serious avalanche and navigational hazard. As the ridge veered to the west, we stayed away from the northern edge to avoid large cornices.

After difficult skiing through the rocky, icy, wind-swept ridge, the west slope finally opened up below. It was visibly cross-loaded by the prevailing SW winds. With limited visibility and questionable snow stability, we conservatively choose a path down sparse trees, anchoring down the snowpack. The upper half of the run offered wind-packed snow, frighteningly cracking right at our skis. The shooting cracks indicated the presence of wind slabs, a serious avalanche hazard that must be managed properly. I carved my way through the sparse trees, skiing a long diagonal to dodge any potential slides. We stayed away from a big funnel to the skier’s left, an obvious terrain trap.

After a few strategic ski-cuts to test the lower, powdery half of the slope, we determined it was safe to open up the throttle. We skied down some ridiculously deep powder, more than I’ve seen in years. It was incredibly good.

We finished our run on the Asulkan Trail, stoked to have skied another classic line. Looking back, we realized the slope extended much further north than we thought. The looker’s left option would offer the most direct, continuous descent from the ridge. After discussing future plans, we slogged back to the parking lot, pushing and side-stepping for ages. I vowed to come back to ski the other options when the upper slope is in better condition.

Route Info

7-8 h	1390m	13.9 km	1200-2540 m

The post The Ravens: A Burly Line For A Burly Storm appeared first on The Uptrack.

Related: Skiing Avalanche Mountain, Rogers Pass: The Burn

Report from July 30, 2019

With two consecutive days of clear weather, we felt blessed. It doesn’t happen often enough in Glacier National Park. Interestingly, this mountainous area is situated at the confluence of coastal and continental air masses. The sheer height of the surrounding peaks forces the humid air upwards, rapidly cooling them down. The result: constant heavy downpours in the summer and an overwhelming amount of snow in the winter. Yay!

I quickly packed my overnight bag after work. I keep it always half-packed allowing me to leave Revelstoke at a moment’s notice. The crew drove east on the TransCanada Highway. After multiple stops due to it being prime orange cone season, we left the Illecillewaet Campground parking lot at 3:15 PM. The Avalanche Crest hiking trail was pretty steep but thankfully short. We got really stoked the moment we reached the alpine meadows above which Eagle Peak was looming. Fred and I were already planning its ascent on our following days off.

While Megan was catching up to us, we searched for the perfect basecamp. It didn’t take long for us to find two nearly flat spots on top of a lateral moraine shaped eons ago by the retreating glacier. We couldn’t believe how incredible the spot was. We were standing next to this milky turquoise runoff, with the glaciated Asulkan Valley as our backdrop. We fell asleep to the calming sound of the stream running by us and marmots frolicking under rocks.

The next morning, we woke up at 4:30 AM intending to climb the Avalanche Crest ridge to witness a dramatic sunrise. It would also be the start of our ascent up the peak. We hadn’t had breakfast yet, I was hungry: the short climb up a scree field to the ridge was slower than usual. In the end, we were rewarded with a stunning sunrise basking the valley in a faint purple glow.

With our hunger satisfied by a hearty breakfast of triple-stacked PB&J sandwiches, Megan headed back to the campsite to get some more sleep, while Fred and I geared up for the coming ascent up the western ridge.

We simul-climbed up the Class 3 scramble with intermittent Class 4 stints. We improvised a belay by having the lead snake my 60m, 8.1mm rope around jagged rocks. The follower would then free the rope as he progressed while the leader belayed from an improvised anchor off a sturdy boulder. While it isn’t the safest climbing technique, it’s definitely faster than building static anchors every 20m and cheaper than buying 100$ cams.

It took us two hours to reach the final crux, a 6 to 7 meter-high vertical face with little to no holds. After scoping out the area, we progressed climber’s right of the wall where we found a sizable crack to shimmy up. Fred volunteered to lead and successfully sent it. I followed with the safety of a top belay.

We staggered up a loose scree slope choosing to take parallel paths to avoid climber-triggered rockfalls from above. One step back, two steps forward. As the sun reached its zenith, we bagged Avalanche Mountain through its southwest ridge. We were standing at an elevation of 2861m. It was no more than 10C with a solid breeze. Sometimes I wonder if I climb peaks just to avoid the blazing heat at home, waiting in the alpine wilderness for the winter to roll in.

I scrutinized the Avalanche Glacier and the Beaver Valley below, seldom seen by climbers and skiers for its difficult access. Meanwhile, Fred was writing a note in booklet stuffed in a 15lb iron pipe. We comically wondered who dragged it up here. That’s motivation right there!

Once our minds were saturated with images of endless peaks, we jumped off the summit. Preferring to downclimb a different route, we headed down the south ridge towards Eagle Peak.

We traversed a scree slope that terminated with precarious cliffs. Due to the exposure, we slowed our pace ensuring we had good footholds over the loose pebbles. After getting cliffed-out several times, the fun really began when we were forced through a steep ravine which required soloing (without belay) through two gnarly sections. Having known him for a while, I could hear a whisper of panic coming out of Fred’s usually low-key humble demeanor.

We eventually made it to camp. We packed our camping gear and promptly headed back to my trusty adventure-mobile at around 4 PM. It was already settled that we would grab an enormous pizza at the Village Idiot in Revelstoke. After all, I was still hungry after my breakfast PB&Js.

Photos

Route Info

10-11 h	1660 m	8.1 km	1200-2845 m

The post Avalanche Mountain Southwest Ridge: High Above the Asulkan appeared first on The Uptrack.