Val David, Laurentians QC

Toyohashi Alpine Club
Climbing in Canada

Val David, Laurentians, Quebec

11-12 July, 1998
Report by: Darren DeRidder
Party: Darren DeRidder, Kenji Suzuki, Martin Kessner

At the beginning of this summer I made a wish list of stuff I wanted to do climbing-wise, and I'm happy to say that a considerable number of items on this list have now been ticked off, the latest being a visit to Val David. It's not quite the Tour de Classiques du Quebec I had originally put on my list but it's definitely a good weekend of climbing. To give it some geographical perspective, Val David is about an hour west of Montreal and two hours north-east of Ottawa. There are two or three mountains w here the climbing is done. None of them are very big, but they have some impressive cliffs, and a lot of routes, especially in the higher grades. I went with a guy from the Alpine Club of Canada named Kenji and a German exchange student named Martin.

We drove out early on Saturday morning and went to the place where I had been about a year before, called Mont Cesaire. There are several cliffs and we went to Les Champs-Elysees. We had the place to ourselves in the morning but shared the cliff in the afternoon with two parties, one with a fellow who wore jogging shorts and black patent leather brogue dress shoes. To start out Kenji led a 5.5. crack which I had done last time I was there, and none of us had a problem with that. After that we top-roped a parallel route and I decided to lead it. It was a 5.6 hand crack with good pro. Next we decided to try Fritz Directe, a 5.8. Kenji decided to try the lead so he set off and I could tell by watching him that he was pushing it all the way. It looked really delicate and at one section he put in a couple pieces of pro and hung for a while, while contemplating the moves. Then he finished it without trouble. I think he was a bit frazzled after that lead. I seconded and at one spot I just about swung off as I tried to deal with the pro. I was thinking the lead would have been beyond me. At least it felt really exposed. After a lunch break we moved our rope over to do some top-roping on the left side of the cliff. Kenji and Martin top-roped Magnum, a 5.8+. I top -roped Le Trou, a 5.11a. With some grunting, cursing, and hanging on the rope I eventually made it to the top.

By this time we were pretty hungry and tired so we went into town and drove around looking for a camping place. We had to drive to the next village to camp with about a hundred other tents all crammed onto a terraced hillside. You could have more privacy camping in your backyard, but some people actually do this for vacation. Anyways...

We went to Mont King the next morning, getting a rather slow start. At the trailhead a fellow from the Federation Quebec des Montagnes Escelades or something like that, asked us if we were members. If you're not, you can't climb here. We said we were members of the Alpine Club of Canada, which is an affiliated group, so he let us in and we hiked in to Mont King. The section we eventually decided to go to was called the Ampitheatre, so we looked for that and eventually figured out where it was and where the topo lined up with the rocks. It looked like nobody had climbed in this particular section for quite a while, but we decided to go for a 5.7 offwidth crack called Absence which went halfway up the cliff, and then finish with a second pitch of whatever looked do-able. Kenji won the Jan-Ken-Pon (paper scissors rock) so he took the first lead. It was offwidth and unforgiving all the way. He tried to talk me into taking over the second half of his pitch, but I told him he had a ways to go yet. The upper half of his pitch continued up an off-width crack that was a real pig to get up. I think all of us resorted to some laybacking to get over the steepest part. Once all of us were at the top of the pitch, I had a look up. It was pretty much straight up over big blocky sections of rock. It looked like there were big holds and ledges all the way up, with good pro, so I took the rack and set off on lead. It was easy going, on a route called L'Unique Directe (5.5) with one or two mantle moves which required a little care. Being the second pitch, it was pretty exposed in places, but all the holds were positive. I ended up in a sort of cave just below the top and set up an anchor there.

I belayed up Martin and Kenji followed. The height really impressed Martin, who had never done a multi-pitch climb before. He expressed this quite colourfully and I could tell as he climbed that he was getting worried when he started farting like a horse. We thought we had missed a quickdraw somewhere, so Kenji down-climbed a bit for a look, but didn't find anything. After walking down and descending a pretty long, steep fixed rope, we sorted our gear and found nothing missing. After lunch we were surprised that it was 4:00 p.m. already, and Kenji had to get back to Ottawa for a hot date, so we packed up and headed out. 

Although we didn't get an awful lot of climbing in, which can be attributed to the fact that we were unfamiliar with the place, we did have a lot of fun. Kenji might have taken Martin and I for a couple of clowns with our joking and goofing around, but he was pretty happy with his leads. He said if he'd known what he was getting into he definitely wouldn't have done them. Good way to get the adrenaline going.

There's just a couple of more weekends before heading over to Europe, so I'm hoping to get some good climbing in, locally in the Gatineaus or down in the Adirondacks.

Nishi Hodaka (2908m), Kita Alps, Japan

Toyohashi Alpine Club
Mountaineering in Japan

Nishi Hodaka (2908m)

North (Kita) Alps, Japan
1st/ 2nd January, 1998
Report by Iain Williams
Party: Iain Williams, Malcolm Field

Photo: wikimedia commons

The first mtn of 1998 and an unexpected one. After nearly two years I made it back to Japan through work and was lucky enough to be in Tokyo over the New Year period so had five days to make good use of. Naturally I teamed up with Mal and the Toyohashi Alpine Club was back in action for the first time since the summer. We spent the last day of 1997 skiing at Shiga Kogen and put aside the next two days for climbing. Mal's original suggestion was to do this mtn but I have to admit I wasn't too keen on the idea mainly because of the cable car involved. As time wasn't really on our side and I wanted to get as high as possible as fast as possible so Mal's idea quickly took concrete form.

The first day started in Nagano city with a late start due to a few beers too many the night before. We had to get ourselves to the small village of Shin Hodaka by at least 3pm if all was to go to plan. Mal got us there in time. The drive was interesting. We took the Kamikochi road that I hadn't been on since my first outing with Brendan, Wayne and Cam way back in 1993 passing the small carpark where I had my first of many car park bivvies. At the Kamikochi tunnel turn off we went straight and soon entered a large new and brightly lit tunnel that took us right through the Hodaka massif, very different to the other local tunnels that the Korean slave labourers built in the war. As we drove into Shin Hodaka the snow was falling quite heavily and our destination, the car park, was not exactly jam packed with cars. We quickly got ourselves sorted and headed off to the cable car station, where we got whisked up to Nishi Hodaka Guchi passing over the steep ski ground below.

We were told back in Nagano that it would take us two hours to get from the top cable car station to the Nishi Hodaka hut where we would spend the night. We set off at around 3:30 so thought that we'd have to motor. We moved at a steady pace through the trees on a path where the snow was rapidly deepening. The gradient was very pleasant and only occasionally did it get steep. Despite all the snow and the odd gusts of wind I soon built up quite a sweat and had to stop to lose a layer. Continuing on we passed a few folk who had bigger packs than ourselves as well as some folk heading back down. After only 45 mins the hut appeared through the snow and mist. So much for the apparent 2hr hike in. The hut had a generous covering of snow and after a short search we found the entrance. Once inside we checked in, lost some layers and had a coffee.

There isn't much to do in mtn huts so after twenty mins or so I suggested going back out into the snow and heading up the ridge towards the top. It was still snowing heavily as we set off again. Right outside the hut there were many people camping. We trudged past the tents and headed onto the ridge. We were now above the tree line and there was plenty of creeping pine under and over the snow. It was good fun scrambling up the wide and gentle ridge. As we got higher the wind got stronger and the light weaker so we stopped, took a few photos and then headed back down. It wasn't really a very sensible place to be but for me it was great after all my dull days in London.

Back in the hut we got changed and waited for our 6:30 dinner seating. The hut was quite large and modern and in the lobby area there was a good selection of Japanese mtn books plus plenty of people milling around. I got chatting to one bloke from Osaka and ended up chatting to him for 20 mins or so, talking about mountains all in Japanese which was a bit of a strain. Mal meanwhile was back in our room relaxing and chatting with someone else. Dinner wasn't bad, lashings of rice and miso soup plus other savoury tidbits. I was impressed with the quality and all the different bits on my plate. To be honest though I didn't have a huge appetite which I put down to the altitude and the cable car ride. Over the meal we also got talking to two Japanese blokes, Takehara san and his mate whose name I can't remember. They were planning to go to the top as well and were quite entertaining. Takehara san made a point of advising us not to follow him as the winter before he had fallen 150m down Koma ga ta ke, unhurt. He was also confident that the next day's weather would be good. We weren't so sure. Outside, the wind was still blowing and the snow falling heavily. I had resigned myself that we'd have a crack and turn around as soon as common sense prevailed. I was very happy just to be back in a Japanese mtn hut in the North Alps. After the meal we headed in to the lobby area with everyone else and watched the weather forecast for the next day. It was a good forecast but I still wasn't convinced. After the forecast we sat in the dining area and talked some more with Takehara san and mate.

Retiring to our room we realised how fortunate we were in that there were only two others sharing it with us. It was a good room with the whole floor covered in newish and clean futons and bedding (not quite Switzerland!). The windows were boarded up but the snow had found a way in behind the boards. The metal panes were covered with frozen condensation. It wasn't too warm. Once the light went out I lay there listening to the wind and a flapping board getting blown around outside. I was looking forward to the next day but also felt slightly altitudey, even though we weren't that high. I didn't sleep well but I did sleep better than Mal who spent most of the night on the point of retching. In the early hours of the morning one of the other blokes started snoring and from that point onwards sleep was impossible. I would occasionally tug his duvet, which would briefly disturb him but was careful not to overdo it as I'd done in the Glen Nevis hostel the previous summer. However, when he got up he stormed out the room sliding the door closed extra hard. I stayed under my duvet as long as possible listening to the hustle and bustle that was going on around the hut, trying to stay rested. Inside though my heart was racing with excitement over what the day would produce. Once up I made straight for the latrines. As much as I like Japanese mtn huts I'm afraid the toilets are the same as anywhere else. I took a deep breath, slid the door open and tried to slip my feet into some small green plastic sandals then got my business over as fast as possible before dashing back to the sliding door, sticking my head out and getting a lungfull of semi fresh air.

Breakfast was the usual, rice, miso soup, egg, bit of fish and tea. I ate well, certainly better than I had done at the Kita Hodaka hut back in 1993. After breaky we got sorted and headed outside. It was still cloudy but it wasn't snowing and the wind had disappeared. We passed the campers and then moved steeply up onto the ridge. There was a lot of snow around but the path was well defined, one of the advantages of a 7:15 start. The route was initially very gentle and gave me the warm up I wanted. We soon stopped. Mal's crampons were doing their usual. On the go again the route got steeper and turned into a bit of a slog. The wind was also picking up a little and not far above us we got the odd break in the cloud. It wasn't long before we broke through the cloud and then it gradually disappeared altogether. Naturally the views of the Hodaka massif were spectacular. We plodded up and scrambled up onto the top of the first of a set of pinnacles. On top were several folk milling around.

We didn't hang around and moved on with a descent down the other side of the pinnacle. We quickly realised that things were now getting a bit more serious and we were out of the hiking zone. This was more of a concern for Mal who didn't have an ice axe, just a polished wooden stick. We carefully proceeded up onto another smaller pinnacle. Descending this one got my adrenaline flowing but we got down safely. Moving on we started to ascend again. The terrain was a lot of fun, we scrambled across snow and rock both on top and to the side of the ridge. It never got scary, it just stayed fun. Up in front of us we could see a false summit. Towards the top we had a bit of a scramble and then topped out. Again there were a few folk resting including Takehara san and mate. We stopped to take some photos and have a drink. It was bitterly cold and it wasn't much fun taking my glove off to take photos. The views of Hodaka were super. The west side had sweeping snow faces with protruding rock that occasionally disappeared into wispy cloud. Further over to the east were the South Alps and protruding proudly behind them was Fuji. To the south was the snowy saddle of Norikura dake with Ontake poking its head up just behind. Across from them lay the Central Alps. It really was a treat and a half seeing all these mountains again and the views alone made me very happy.

At this point Mal decided to call it quits which surprised me as the route to the top was clearly visible and didn't look particularly worrying. Takehara san and mate had also decided to turn round so Mal headed back with them while I pushed on. The route followed the ridge and finished with a short steep section which took me to the top. All along the way the wind was strong and cold. I did my best to hide my face behind my hood whilst plodding steadily along. Once on top I had the usual feeling of satisfaction and a slight one of relief. On the top were a couple of other parties taking photos and milling around. I took my shots and spent a few minutes taking in all the views again. It really wasn't the place to stop and savour a Mars and I quickly got going on the descent. Again no problems were encountered and I moved quickly along the ridge to the last pinnacle where I decided to take a break.

There were still people clustered there and a few had tripod mounted cameras to capture all the views. I found myself a spot, sat down and opened my pack. I had a very cold maki sushi which I carefully prepared and then wolfed down with a few swigs of ice cold water. A hot coffee would have been ideal. I finished off with a very cold and hard Mars which I have to admit I didn't particularly enjoy. From my cold snowy and rocky seat I could stare down at Kamikochi and the road in. I clearly remembered walking up there very four and half years before and remarking to Brendan how the tops didn't look that high and were about three or four Ishimakis high. Sitting looking down I was right. I was however sitting about 400m below the Hodaka summit, which we couldn't see from the valley. I didn't hang about for long and was soon on the descent. I ran/walked down the flattish snowy ridge back towards the hut. The wind wasn't as strong anymore and the sun was shining brightly. Before I knew it I was back at the hut and the views of Fuji and the other ranges were hidden again. Through the trees we could still see Norikura though. The others had got back half an hour or so before me and were relaxing inside eating and drinking. I joined them and had a coffee. After our snack we headed outside for a few photos and a seat in the sun. The weather really was superb.

We decided to hike together back down to the cable car station. The walk back down through the snowy fir trees was very picturesque. The path was a narrow channel through the snow. We passed the odd group who were heading up. Back at the cable car station we stopped to look back up at the mountain and take a few photos. It looked good and far bigger than it actually was. The wind was still blowing up there and was blowing wispy cloud off the ridge. It was nice and satisfying to look up with the knowledge that I'd been up there on the top a few hours before. It had been a very enjoyable climb and I said to myself that I must return and do some more winter climbing in Japan. It really is far superior to the summer, which isn't that bad either.

The cable car quickly got us all the way back down. Takehara san and mate invited us to join them for a bathe in a public hot spring next to the river just down the road. We were more than keen and headed down there and had a good hour in the hot water chatting and larking around. It was an excellent open air onsen and free to boot. After our bath we said farewell and Mal and I headed back to Nagano.

Our two days were excellent and were the perfect start to 1998. I just hope that the next time I return to Japan, and I'm certain there will be a next time, I won't be on my own and I'll be able to climb with another TAC companion. Right now I'm toying with the idea of being on the top of Fuji to see in the new millenium.

Mt. Athabasca (3491m), Jasper National Park, Canada

Toyohashi Alpine Club
Mountaineering in the Canadian Rockies

Mt. Athabasca (3491m)

Jasper National Park, Canada
August 1997
Report by Darren DeRidder
Party: Iain Williams and Darren DeRidder

Mt. Athabasca is located next to the Columbia Icefields on the way to Jasper. Like most of the nearby peaks it is glaciated and has snow or ice cover year-round. Looking towards the Columbia Icefields from the new Icefields visitors center, Mt. Athabasca is the most prominent mountain on the left. A glacier forms on the face of this mountain and reaches down toward the Athabasca glacier, which is the one tourists walk around on and fall into crevasses. It is an impressive looking ice-bound peak.

Iain and I drove off to the Columbia Icefields, stopping at points of interest along the way, including Castle Mountain, where we pulled off at the tourist spot to have a cafeteria-style lunch. It was crowded so we sat with some people who asked us if we were climbers and if we used "pokey things" on our feet. We also stopped at Mistaya Canyon where the scenery was really impressive, Sunwapta Pass where we took a little break and enjoyed the sweeping views back down the valley, and Peyto Lake, where we took a little hike to the viewpoint which was crowded with Asian tourists. We stopped at the little Lake below the Whyte Pyramid as well.

At the Hilda Creek Hostel we signed up for the night, then drove the rest of the way up to the Icefields and had a look around at the new Icefields Center. Mt. Athabasca was right in front of us and looked really impressive. We had a good look at it and could even make out what we thought was a trail in the snow which marked our route. In the Icefields Center there was a Parks Information desk where we registered for the climb and got details of the conditions. It looked good. We weren't able to drive up to the climbers parking area halfway along the snow coach road so we went back to the hostel and moved our stuff onto bunks. After a while we went back up the road to the Icefields Center and waited until the last bus was gone. Then the gate was open and we drove up to the climbers parking lot at the base of the moraine of the glacier that comes off Athabasca. We hiked up a little ways, just enough to get the idea that there was a definite path up along the crest of the moraine. Returning to the car-park, we met a Japanese fellow who said he wanted to climb Mt. Andromeda. He said Athabasca was too easy. We asked him if he had any gear and he said no. He didn't have crampons, an ice axe, or even boots. So we told him not to climb. Too bad there are lots of other idiots just like this guy out there - the ones who get themselves killed every year when the set off on a lark to "climb a big mountain".

The Hilda Creek Hostel is very rustic. Don't go there if you want the comforts of say, the Lake Louise facility. There are no showers, no flush toilets, no electric lights. Water is taken from the creek and should be boiled. The place was crowded too. We got as much sleep as we could and at 4:00 a.m. we were up and away. By the time we got to the climber's parking lot at the base of our climb, it was still dark, but there were some other cars and people getting ready. If you climb much you will know that in the predawn darkness of an alpine climb preparation, nobody is friendly. There is a sense of urgency and stress in the air. By the time it started to get light, we were off. We were higher up here, we were tired, and it was slow going all the way. The trail went up and up over the moraine and broke through a cliff by way of a short scree gully. From there it levelled out slightly and then dropped down a few meters to the base of the glacier. There was a snow-patch here and a couple of Japanese guys. They were going to try the North Ridge route. The previous day, they said, they had climbed the normal route, which we were trying. They must've liked the mountain or something.

They set off and we went after them. The first part was a little tricky since the ice at the bottom of the tongue of the glacier was a bit steep. The crampons did the trick. Soon we were right on the snow-covered glacier and moving along fast. We caught up with the Japanese guys and then split from them as we followed tracks which angled up under the main face of the mountain. Above were seracs which we had to move past quickly. I was in front and set up a demanding pace. There were a few crevasses which we had to step across. We angled up to the left first, and then cut across the face to the right, moving under the seracs. Finally we emerged on the saddle beneath the summit ridge. The rocks on the ridge looked near, so we aimed for them and decided to have a break when we got there. But they were farther away than they looked and it took forever to get there at our slowing pace. When we finally did get to the rocks it was cold and blowing and we didn't feel much like stopping anyway. We put on our Goretex jackets and that was one time when they really were needed. It actually started to snow a little bit. We kept warm as we moved on up the rocks and snow-patches. Before long we were at the summit. The snow on the ridge was piled up high to the North of us. We took turns climbing up the mound of snow to the very top, keeping the rope on belay.

On top of the mountain, we could see down into the deep hidden valley to the south. It was long and lined with steep mountain faces. All along the valley floor, an enormous river of ice was slowly creeping. I was very impressed to see such a perfect example of a glacier. I don't imagine many people get to see it, the Saskatchewan Glacier.

After some summit photos and the obligatory Mars bar, we headed back down, and this time Iain set a demanding pace. As we got lower we started feeling more and more happy. It was a little warmer and the wind wasn't blowing and it was so much easier going down than it was going up. We took some fun pictures of leaping over a crevasse. As we neared the lower edge of the glacier there were more crevasses and we had to find our way carefully. The ice became steeper as we edged our way over to the moraine.

As we crossed the steepest part, which was strewn with rock fragments fallen from the cliffs above, we heard a strange sound. It was faint at first, growing louder and louder, like a dull rushing scraping sound. My first thought was "Avalanche!" Peering up the glacier I couldn't see anything, and my next thought was that a big crevasse was about to open up. There was no apparent movement however and the sound kept getting louder and louder as if it was coming right towards us. Within a few seconds we saw a huge boulder, the size of an Austin Mini, come sliding over the edge of the glacier. It rocked and wobbled and sent splinters of ice spraying as it slid down the tongue of the glacier, as if in slow motion. As the ice curved away steeper and steeper, the huge rock gained momentum and swept past us only twenty meters away, continued to pick up speed and flew down the terminus of the glacier to explode on the rocks below with an enormous clap and a shower of shrapnel. I said to Iain, "Let's get out of here."

The walk down the Moraine was very, very long. It was hard on the knees. Finally we got back to the car, feeling pretty worn out but proud of ourselves anyway.

Checking the time, I was surprised to see it was only noon. We'd started at about 5:00 and made good time. I took off my gear slowly so that all the people passing in the bus could see me and point and say "Look at the mountain climber! Look, he's got... pokey things!"

We drove back to Banff that afternoon and went to the Sulphur Mountain Hot Springs. Iain calculated that out of all the climbs we did, we had the highest elevation gain on this peak. The summit is at 3491 meters, and our starting elevation was more than 2000 meters below that.

When to go:

It's gonna be covered with snow and ice any time of the year. Pick a day when avalanche risks are low. The slope on the north face is prone to avalanche.

What to take:

On the north glacier route, parties rope up but there's no need to place protection. It is essentially glacier travel so members should be familiar with glacier travel and crevasse rescue techniques. Crampons and an axe are of course normal gear.

Where to stay:

If you really want to rough it, the Hilda Creek Hostel. There are campgrounds by the Icefields.

Mt. Victoria (3464m), Banff National Park, Canada

Toyohashi Alpine Club
Mountaineering in the Canadian Rockies

Mt. Victoria (3464m), South Ridge

Banff National Park, Canada
August 1997
Report by Darren DeRidder
Party: Iain Williams, Darren DeRidder, and Rob Marson

After successful climbs on Mt. Temple and Mt. Edith, Iain and I considered our options. When we were planning our trip to the Rockies, Mt. Victoria had been one of our original objectives and so we settled on that. It meant we probably wouldn't get up Assiniboine, because that would require at least three days, and the mountain seemed to be out of condition - still.

So we booked the Abbott Pass Hut. And we stayed at the Alpine Center/ Youth Hostel in Lake Louise, which is a fantastic facility. It is really really nice, and the cafeteria has awesome food and a good atmosphere too. We stayed there several times and met some interesting people.

Anyway in the morning we drove out along highway 1A to the Lake O'Hara parking lot where we sorted our gear for the next couple days and walked up to catch the bus at 10:00. They don't let cars up the road to Lake O'Hara. You have to take a Parks Canada bus, because the area is "fragile". What that means is that it is absolutely incredibly beautiful. There is a lodge at the lake which costs hundreds of dollars to stay in, and there is a campground nearby, and an ACC hut, the Elizabeth Parker cabin, which is always full. One guy at the campground told us it would take us about three and a half hours to get up to Abbot Pass.
It was loose and slippery and pieces of rock occasionally fell off the towering walls on either side of us. We started out like true mountain men by going the wrong way around the lake. But there was a natural drinking fountain that had good water, so after a long drink we went back the other way around. The trail was perfect. It was very well maintained and on the steep parts, boulders had been arranged into steps and everything. At Lake Oesa, we could see Mt. Lefroy and Mt. Huber and part of the big scree slope we had to climb to get to the pass. We stopped to talk to a couple of climbers who were also on their way up, and the older one recommended that we try to do Lefroy that afternoon. We said we would consider it.

After Lake Oesa, the trail wasn't so nice anymore. We followed the trail up to the left and over a couple of snow patches. The trail got worse and worse and pretty soon it was every man for himself just trying to pick the path of least resistance up a long loose scree slope. It was loose and slippery and pieces of rock occasionally fell off the towering walls on either side of us. After a while I could see the hut and pretty soon we were there. It had taken us three and a half hours just like the guy said.

[Editors note 20/08/2022: sadly, in the summer of August 2022, the Abbot Pass Hut was dismantled and completely removed, owing to the instability of the slope on which it sat. Thawing permafrost had rendered the entire structure susceptible to collapse, and thus an icon of Canadian Rockies Mountaineering succumbed to the impact of global warming along with many of the glaciers, snowfields and climbs that were once considered 'trade routes'.]

The Abbot Pass Hut is one of the best of the ACC huts in terms of its location and appearance. It was built in 1922 by Swiss guides working for the Canadian Pacific Railway out of stones from the Abbot Pass. It was modified recently to make more room on the main floor for cooking and dining. We met some interesting people there, too, including Doug and Sarah from Calgary. They had been up Lefroy and were planning on climbing Victoria the next day, like us. We were glad that other people would be climbing the mountain, too. Before long, the two climbers we had met at Lake Oesa appeared. They started sorting their gear and said that they would go up Victoria part way and see what they could see. One of them was named Randall. We didn't think anyone else would show up, because it was unlikely anyone would have taken the 6:00 bus in to Lake O'Hara and then started the hike up to the hut.
It started to get late, and then we remembered that we hadn't seen Randall and his climbing partner back yet. Iain tried calling for them but got no answer. Iain yelled so loud he sounded like a yodeller with laryngitis. It was getting dark and we called and called but didn't hear any reply. Finally I thought I heard something. Iain went back towards the cabin. I tried calling out again, heard a reply, and then saw two figures appear at the crest of the ridge. I shouted to see if they were OK. "Yep", came the answer. Fair enough. 

We went to bed. Before long the climbers came in, but there were three. One had come up from Lake O'Hara after all. The new climber was Rob. In the morning , Iain and Rob and I were up getting ready. We started talking. Interestingly enough, Rob was from London England too. And lives, as it turned out, about two blocks away from Iain. Rob was planning on climbing Victoria too, but he didn't have a partner, so we asked him if he cared to join us. He was quite happy to, and we were glad to have him. Rob turned out to be a very experienced ice climber. His experience was helpful in getting us to the summit, without a doubt. Rob led casually up steep snow looking very secure, and Iain and I followed, somewhat hesitantly. We would probably have felt more comfortable on the rock next to the snow, but given the rotting condition of the limestone ridge, the danger of slipping was probably greater there.

We departed from the hut at first light. I carried the rope over my shoulders, resting on the top of my pack. It was quite cool outside. Immediately behind the Abbot Pass hut, a rock headwall rises up towards the crest of the ridge of Mt. Victoria. This has to be climbed to the crest of the ridge. There are various ways to go, but careful route-finding will keep you on the best path. The rock is low-angled, and there are many ledges. However it is all very loose and covered with scree, so great care has to be taken to find the more solid rock. The climb is so popular that there was almost a trail leading up this first part. At one point we stopped to discuss the best way to move ahead. Here Iain dropped his sunglasses and they went almost right down to the Abbot Pass. We had climbed up only 150 meters or so, so he decided to go back and get them. It didn't take more than 20 minutes and he was back, minus the nose-piece. They would be alright for the climb, he said, so off we went again. Passing below two mushroom-shaped formations, we moved right to where the rock looked easier and the angle lower. In fact, the actual route goes up between these two mushrooms. We moved up easily over this rock and came to some snow.

At this point we decided to rope up and also removed some sweaters and fleeces as we were getting warmed up. We were not yet on the crest of the ridge but Rob led up the snow and we followed, front-pointing near the top. At the top of the snow we scrambled over some rock to the crest of the ridge, which we then followed along. There were footsteps in the snow, a regular path. The crest of the ridge was snow covered and knife-edged. It dropped away steeply on both sides. On the right, we could see Lake Louise far below and seemingly far away. It looked so small! In front of the Lake we could see the Plain of Six Glaciers and the deep valley that ran up into "the Death Trap", which in turn led to Abbot Pass from the Lake Louise side. This route is not recommended these days. We heard a few avalanches echoing around in the big space between the cliffs, but didn't see them.

We were on the northeast face of the mountain on steep, rotten ice. Above was a vertical rock cliff and below was 2000 feet of space, dropping down to the Victoria glacier. 

Soon we came to "the Sickle", which is a deep depression in the ridge. The Sickle can be clearly seen from Lake Louise. The snow is still very "pointed" here, and the ridge very narrow. Iain went first down the steep snow to the lowest point on the sickle, about 25 meters away, while I belayed him with a standard boot-axe belay. Iain didn't like the looks of the belay. He carefully moved down the snow, facing in. At the bottom of the Sickle, he waited while I took off the belay and proceeded down. Rob belayed me from above this time. The snow was good. It was soft but not slushy or powdery. It was firm enough to hold the shaft of an ice axe.

Reassured by Iain's descent, I started out. Plunging the shaft of my axe into the snow and using the footsteps made by Iain and the previous climbers, I moved down into the Sickle, facing outwards. Before I reached the low point, Rob had to begin his descent because of the limiting length of the rope between us. Care had to be taken at every step.

Going up the other side was a little easier. Rob moved in front again and we continued over easy ground (snow) along the ridge. Soon we were confronted with a rock step. This feature can also be clearly seen from Lake Louise. The guide clearly stated to pass this on the right. The diagram as well indicated that the proper route bypassed this rock "fin" in its entirety on the right (northeast) side. We discussed this and then proceeded, even though it looked as if there was an easy way up through the rock onto the crest of the ridge. Trusting the guidebook we moved onwards and got into a very hairy situation. We were on the northeast face of the mountain on steep, rotten ice. Above was a vertical rock cliff and below was 2000 feet of space, dropping down to the Victoria glacier. Rob moved along passed a rock horn which he slung and then on across a steep ice field to the rock band, where he put in a piton.

Neither Iain nor I were liking this very much. I went to put my right foot down , and the snow came away. My foot skated out from under me. On my side, I began to slowly slide down. In my left had I had my ice axe, and I swung the pick into the frozen snow, gaining support and stopping myself. We clung to our stances trying not to move too much while Rob went on to see what the route was like. We were no longer sure we were in the right place, and were considering whether to go on or go back. Rob said it seemed that after about 20 or 30 meters we could regain the ridge. My foot skated out from under me. 

At this point Doug and Sarah appeared on the ridge behind us, just below the rock step. They stared at us and were very quiet. They didn't say anything, but Doug came along the ridge to the base of the rock step. Iain asked him where the route went, and Doug said "I think it goes up the ridge!" So we decided we had goofed up and we went back. It was a big relief. Standing in such an exposed place on front-points while Rob worked his way out front had shaken me. Iain had been at the rock belay, a more secure position. I didn't tell him until later that I was pretty much scared spitless.

Doug and Sarah disappeared up the notch that led through the rock band and onto the crest of the ridge again. We worked our way back and then proceeded that way ourselves. From then on the going was easy. At times the route went between the rock on the left and the snow on the right, like a trench. We met Doug and Sarah, who had been to the summit and were on their way down. They passed us and Iain said to have some coffee on for when we got back.

The last obstacle before the summit was a very knife-edged and narrow section of the ridge. The snow on the right was very very steep, and the snow on the left was almost vertical. The footsteps went right along the crest, like a balance beam. There was a groove just below the top where climbers had shuffled their feet across. Rob went over it first, moving his feet carefully along the lower groove, one hand on the top of the ridge, ice axe in the other hand, sticking the shaft into the steep snow on the other side of the ridge. He was bent right over the ridge. It looked really precarious. I went next and tried to do like Rob did, but found one foot on the very top and one foot down in the groove worked better. I tried plunging the shaft of my ice axe into the snow on the right side, but the snow was so soft, it offered no support. About in the middle I straddled the ridge. This didn't work at all and was a real pain in the arse. But the narrowest part was already done, so I managed to get up and step carefully across to where Rob was belaying me. Then we belayed Iain across. Iain didn't bother taking any chances and just straddled the ridge and scooted across like a cowboy riding a bucking bronco. And then in a few minutes we were on the summit. We took photos and ate Mars bars. Then we went down.

Getting down was as much of a climb as going up was. We had to go back through the sickle and then down steep snowy sections to the rock. We belayed much of it. Once on the rock above the hut we had to be very careful since it was so loose. We took off the rope since it was only getting caught on the rocks between us and causing pieces to fall down on us. We slowly worked our way down, looking for the path. We got on the right path, which led between the mushroom formations we had passed below on our way up that morning. There were some parts that were quite steep and others that were covered in loose scree and so we had to be very careful not to lose our footing. We had taken off our crampons earlier so that helped. Rob was less happy on rock than on snow, especially this loose and rotting limestone. But we got down without any problem and then, about 11 hours after we had started, I was trotting up to the outhouse (the highest outhouse in Canada, and the one with the best view, guaranteed).

In the hut, Sarah had prepared a bottle of orange juice for us, which was very refreshing. Well, that's it. We'd done it. I honestly didn't let my breath out all the way until we had set foot back inside the hut. (I didn't let my breath out all the way in the outhouse for other reasons). I was shaken from hanging around on the steep and icy face where we'd gone off route, but it was a great climb anyway.

It was evening, and we canceled our plans to descend to Lake O'Hara and camp. We stayed instead in the hut again. Some more people had come; a couple from Vancouver and a couple from Germany. Only the couple from Germany planned to climb Victoria the next day. Rob was going to try Lefroy. Iain was considering going with him. I would lend him my stiffer boots. Doug and Sarah were going down. In the end Iain decided he'd go down too so the four of us went down in the morning to Lake O'Hara. As we left the hut Doug and I saw Rob making his way up Lefroy. The face looks so steep, but we could see that he was walking up, switchbacking left and right up the snow.

Going down the scree slope was much easier than coming up. Doug was an expert at it, and practically leaped down it. Digging my heels in, I surfed the scree and came down shortly behind him. Sarah and Iain were right behind and we enjoyed the good trail, the sunshine, the spectacular views, and the sweet-smelling alpine air on the way back to Lake O'Hara. It had been a very rewarding and enjoyable climbing experience.

When to go:

As with so many of the mountains, the first part of August is one of the most promising times to do this climb. Weather is generally settled and the routes are generally in good summer condition by this time, meaning less risk of avalanches. As usual, an alpine start (before dawn) is wise in order to insure return to the hut before nightfall. Some parties will take longer than the suggested 6 to 10 hours, depending on experience.

What to take:

This route is suited to alpine short-roping. Since there is hardly any solid rock, wending the rope between boulders and rocks as you climb is your best bet. In many places I simply wrapped the rope around a rock protrusion in leu of a belay. No pro should be necessary for this climb, provided you stay on course. Nevertheless, a couple of pins and maybe an ice screw are reassuring to have in case you get into a pickle. If you are staying at the hut, all you need to bring is your sleeping bag, food, and white gas for the cooking stoves. There are plenty of cooking utensils and comfy foam mattresses upstairs in the loft. There's a coal stove, and a big pot for snowmelt, the water source. Don't eat the yellow snow.

Where to stay:

It is possible to climb the route in a day from the campground at Lake O'Hara. Up and down it would be a very, very long day however. Most people stay at the Abbot Pass Hut overnight and climb Victoria the following morning, returning to Lake O'Hara. The hut is operated by the Alpine Club of Canada and may be used by members. Reservations are required. The ACC's main office is in Canmore.

Mt. Edith (3554m), South Ridge, Banff National Park, Canada

Toyohashi Alpine Club
Mountaineering in the Canadian Rockies

Mt. Edith (2554m) South Ridge

August 1997
Banff National Park, Alberta, Canada
Report by Darren DeRidder
Party: Iain Williams, Darren DeRidder

Mt. Edith is a peak near Banff with a number of routes on it, all of which are technical rock-climbing routes, except for the scrambling route up the west side, which serves as the descent route for all climbs. Located next to Mt. Cory near the Fireside picnic area at the junction of Highway 1 and Highway 1A, it is just south of Mt. Louis, another popular rock climbing peak with more difficult routes. On Edith, there is the South Ridge, which is a technically easy climb at 5.4, the scrambling route which doesn't require any technical climbing but is a bit exposed in a few places, and then a few routes that are just plain hard and involve about 300 meters of climbing at the 5.8 to 5.10b level. 

We decided to try the 5.4 route up the South ridge. It is a popular route but also rather difficult to find. Some people end up abandoning their attempt before they even start because they are unable to find the beginning of the route. The routes are described in Sean Dougherty's guidebook, Selected Alpine Climbs in the Canadian Rockies.

Before our climb, we registered with the warden's office in Banff just in case. Then we took off to Two Jack Lake campground near Lake Minnewanka. Instead of Two Jack campground they should have called the place Two-gazillion Mosquitoes campground. At our campsite the mossies were out in swarms. The smoky fire I kept fanning helped keep them away a little, but only as long as I was sitting directly in the smoke, and then I couldn't see or breath. Iain, who is from England where they don't have mosquitoes, thought he was going to be eaten alive. We liberally applied DEET insect repellent but they would bite through clothes. Iain got his new tent set up in a flash and after some soup and coffee and snacks (mixed with mosquitoes) we got in the tent and commenced a merciless search and destroy mission for any mosquito that had chanced to wander in before we got the bug-screen zipped up. It was quite exciting. 

The next morning the mosquitoes were still out so we just got out of there as fast as we could and drove to Fireside picnic area which is just up Highway 1 toward Lake Louise. We got our gear sorted there and started out on the trail for Edith Pass at about, oh, 8:00 I guess.

The mosquitoes weren't too bad as we marched through the cool forest, heading East towards the mouth of the valley that leads to Edith Pass. We passed the junction to Cory Pass, had a brief discussion about the approach, and then continued up towards Edith Pass. There was some uncertainty about the approach and where we were supposed to break off from the main trail. The book (Dougherty's "Selected Alpine Climbs") gave an approach for all routes on Edith, and there was some more detailed info on the approach to the south ridge route as well. A two-log bridge on the approach trail was mentioned. We came to the two-log bridge, just before Edith Pass, just like the book said. Feeling good to be on track, we carried on up for about 500 meters, measuring by counting steps. I counted out about 600 steps and we came to a trail breaking off to the left up an avalanche slope below the south ridge of Edith. So following that, we came to what we thought was the right spot. We just kept going up, and repeated efforts to figure out where we were by looking at the photograph in the book didn't help at all. There were tracks, so we followed those. And pretty soon we were getting up on the ridge, up a scree gully, and this sort of broke off to the left, like the book said. We saw a tree with a piece of red tape on it, and that was all we needed.

We roped up and I took the first pitch. Moving off from the tree with tape, I went up an initial steep bit protected with a nut and then up further over loose rock with no available protection to a wall with a horizontal crack into which a piton had been hammered. There was a sling through the piton, and I clipped this. I was a little vexed by the lack of pro, so I just made a belay at the piton, putting in a friend as well, and brought Iain up. He took the next lead. Initially, the ground to the right see med easier and he led off that way. Even though there was a small step above me, I looked up the "crest" of the ridge and seemed to see a line that would take us nicely up. I told Iain to bear left, but he was onto an obvious line of his own. When he brought me up I saw he had moved into a definite groove on the right-hand side of the ridge. 

The groove seemed to follow along just below the ridge crest up as far as we could see. Climbing up this involved scrambling over very bad rock, which broke off all over the place and didn't provide any protection at all. For several pitches we worked our way up this, swinging leads and setting up belays whenever we could get any decent pro in. For a couple of the pitches, we didn't get any pro in at all. And at least one of my belays was very dodgy. I believe it might have held if I had sort of... sat on it and prayed, or something. Anyway, the climbing wasn't very hard, and usually in the places that were steeper, there was a place to put some protection.

At the belays, sitting on the rock and facing outward, looking back down the ridge, the views were just amazing. Iain came up over a bulge in the rock, and I sat there looking at him climbing - behind him was the strangest backdrop. Not sky, but ground. The ground was behind him. Or I should say below him. I was looking down passed him at treetops far far below. I realized that we were gaining a lot of vertical height.

We had to be careful with all the loose rock about knocking loose bits down on each other at the belay, or on the rope between us. It was inevitable that some pieces should come down though, since the rock was loose in so many spots. As we neared the top of our "groove", the angle seemed to get steeper. The wall on our left, which separated our groove from the ridge crest, rose up higher. On our right the mountain dropped away in a very impressive vertical rock face. It seemed like we were nearing the top of our groove, and I was just hoping it would deposit us onto the top of the ridge. Iain had the pitch. He moved up over steeper, blocky rock and then was out of sight as he climbed to the left. The rope moved through my hands quickly and I knew he was onto easy ground. A second later Iain called down, "That's it. We're on the ridge."

I scampered up the pitch and was on the ridge in a couple minutes too. We were standing on a flat part of the ridge, like a shoulder below the summit. It was maybe 50 meters long. We took off the rope and walked around. I looked over the end of the ridge. There was a gully filled with talus and dirt. It looked like people had in fact come up that way. I was wondering again if we had been on the right route. Whatever- we were on the ridge, and from here, we had only to follow the crest of the ridge to the summit. It was sunny and hot. We drank more water. We'd been sucking it back all along the groove. And the water was sloshing around in the bottom of our 1.5 litre bottles.

I had a look up ahead. I wasn't impressed. It looked like we had a lot more climbing to do. I was concerned about how long we were taking. The rock had been loose and the pro had been poor. There was every reason to take it slowly and carefully. But I was concerned that finding the descent route might take some time as well and have us on the mountain for too long, without much water. Anyway, the summit was up ahead, and it looked pretty far away still. It looked like we had the more serious climbing still ahead of us. Between us and the summit, which was sticking up like a turret or something, the ridge rose up in a steep rock step, then levelled off a bit before a final steep part up to the summit itself.

I let Iain do the honours of the first lead this time. He led off on steeper, but more solid rock. The next two pitches were the hardest of the climbing, but the rock was also quite a bit better. When Iain stopped and set up a belay, I climbed through, saying "Good lead!", and continued up through a chimney which provided the "crux" for me, if there was one. I imagine Iain's "crux" was the pitch he had just led. Technically, neither pitch was too hard (5.4), but it's the big height, the loose rock, the remoteness of the climb, and all those other factors that make it challenging, both mentally and physically. I came out to easier ground and set up a belay. We moved across the second flat part and found that the last rock step had a fairly easy scrambling route leading up through chimneys in the rock. I took the lead once again and moved out off the steep ground and across another flat part just below the summit. It wasn't necessary to place pro since we had now joined up with the scrambling route. The ridge fell away in a vertical rock face on the right, all the way to the valley floor and Edith Pass, and it fell away on the left in another vertical wall to the valley and Cory Pass. Just before the summit, on a flat area, the ridge became rather narrow, and I had to walk across some interesting rocks, which were rather like stepping stones, with cracks between them. The tops of these rocks were wide and flat however, so it was not difficult. Iain came up and went on past me a few meters more to the summit.

We'd done it. And the last of the climbing, from the main shoulder to the summit, hadn't taken nearly as long as I thought it would, due to the fact that our route met up with the "scrambling" route at the second shoulder. It also just looked farther than it really was.

We took summit photos and drank the last of our water. I committed the cardinal sin by spilling some. This was bad, because we still had to get down, and it was hot. There's no water to be found on this mountain. We performed the ritual of eating Mars Bars at the summit. Then we headed down.

I was momentarily confused once we crossed back over the "stepping stones" but Iain pointed out the way over to the right, and we continued down, moving back down the ridge until we could move onto the scree ledges of the west face. There was a faint path and some cairns which marked the scrambling route up the mountain. Keeping our eyes peeled for cairns, we moved northward along the scree ledges of the west face until we found a cairn at the mouth of a chimney which went down behind a large block. We were looking for what the guidebook called a "hole in the ledge". A big chockstone was lodged between the block and the wall. The chimney went down behind that. It was a hole, or a tunnel, for sure. It was easy down-climbing and pretty soon we were on a huge scree slope, heading down. It would have been nice to drop right down to the valley floor because there was a snowmelt stream there. And we were really thirsty. But the trail led along the side Mount Edith, through a forest of pine that was as dry as tinder. We practically ran down the trail, but it just kept on going and going and didn't descend much at all. We weren't getting any lower, only more and more thirsty.

We passed a couple of lost hikers and after what seemed like miles I came to the big descent which went down the front of the hill, switchbacking endlessly through the trees. Eventually I came to the grassy slopes that marked the junction of the trails to Cory Pass and Edith Pass. It was a long way down the grassy slopes. Finally I hit the long-anticipated flat trail back to the car park and walked as fast as I could back towards the car.

Iain showed up and we drank lukewarm Cokes. We headed straight back to the drinking fountain at the park in Banff and did our best to consume the entire water supply. All in all, it was a good experience even with the loose rock and I enjoyed it a lot. We were both proud of having done it. But in the future, more solid rock would be really nice. The one consolation is that in the steeper sections the rock is generally more solid, and despite loose rock, the climbing on this route is not difficult.

When to go:

This is not a high mountain by Rockies standards and should be free of snow most of the summer.

What to take:

Water. This mountain is dry as a bone. One rope, a rack of nuts and friends, and some slings is adequate. Don't count on getting too many good placements though! Also pack along a healthy respect for Rocky Mountain limestone.

Where to stay:

The YWCA in Banff always has room in the dorm rooms. There are men's and women's dorm rooms, good showers, a cafeteria, and a TV lounge. It's an inexpensive place to stay. There is also a nice Youth Hostel on Tunnel Mountain but it is almost always booked full, so reservations are required. A campground is nearby.

Guidebook:

Sean Dougherty's Selected Alpine Climbs in the Canadian Rockies

Mt. Temple (3543m) South-West Ridge, Canadian Rockies

Toyohashi Alpine Club
Mountaineering in the Canadian Rockies

Mt. Temple (3543 m) South-West Ridge

Banff National Park, Alberta, Canada
August 1997
Report by Darren DeRidder
Party: Iain Williams, Darren DeRidder

Mt. Temple (3543 m) is located near Lake Louise in the Canadian Rockies. From Lake Louise townsite, the mountain dominates the view to the south and is a very impressive looking mountain. It is perpetually snow covered and capped by a glacier which seems to hang precariously over the enormous north face. The north face itself is sheer and imposing, 2000 meter cliffs of rock and ice. Mt. Temple is referred to as the Eiger of the Canadian Rockies. It was first climbed in 1894 by Walter Wilcox and party.

Despite the impenetrable appearance of the mountain from Lake Louise townsite, Mt. Temple is one of the most frequently climbed of the higher peaks due to a non-technical scrambling route on the south-west ridge. This route gives access to the summit of one of the most impressive mountains along the Bow Valley corridor with relative ease, and does not require technical climbing. Nevertheless there have been a number of accidents even on this route. Within two weeks of climbing Mt. Temple, I learned there had been a fatality as an experienced climber descended this ridge and fell from a snow gully which is perhaps the only challenging part of the route.

Mt. Temple is nearer to Moraine Lake than Lake Louise and is listed in the "Valley of the Ten Peaks" section of Sean Dougherty's guide book, "Selected Alpine Climbs in the Canadian Rockies". This book was very useful for my climbing partner and I as it was our first real season in the Canadian Rockies. Many of the other climbers we met also carried this guide. The general consensus seemed to be that the climbs were sometimes harder than the guidebook leads you to believe. Our policy was to stay well within our limits, to the point of avoiding grades which back home on the local crag we would have easily scampered up. This is probably a good idea for anyone making an initial climbing trip to the Rockies. The conditions vary a lot, the rock can be quite a surprise to the uninitiated, and the height and remoteness of some of the routes makes them a lot more serious than the technical grading scale might indicate.

After arriving from Calgary by car, Iain and I stayed one night in the Alpine Club of Canada's Canmore Clubhouse. This was the first week of August, generally a good time for summer mountaineering in the Rockies. We were to have two weeks of nearly perfect weather, and four successful climbs. On the evening we arrived, after leaving our gear at the Clubhouse, we drove to Moraine Lake for a quick look. This is truly one of the gems of the Canadian Rockies, and Iain, a native of the U.K., was very impressed.

Having seen Moraine Lake many times before I knew what to expect but was nevertheless truly amazed at the incredible beauty of the place. In the parking area we met a fellow who had just done the normal route on Temple, and this was a factor in our deciding to climb Temple the next morning. The original objective had been Mt. Assiniboine, but due to unfavourable conditions which had turned back all previous attempts so far that year, we opted for an easy first climb.

As one of the Park Rangers who we met on the way up said to us, the south west ridge is "A pretty un-scary way to climb a pretty scary mountain." And although the route is not technically difficult, it is steep and exposed enough in places to give inexperienced scramblers a fright. One poor fellow who we met on our way down and took back with us said, "I don't know what I was thinking this morning when I started off to climb this. I must have still been drunk."

Access to the south west ridge route is via Moraine Lake. From the parking area, a trail winds around the side of the lake, past the boat house where tourists rent canoes, and on up towards Larch Valley. The trail was quite steep, but we were eager to climb so we pushed our pace and moved past a few groups of hikers. We didn't carry any technical climbing gear with us other than our ice axes, which we'd been told would be useful. With light packs we made pretty good time. As we followed the switchbacks up f rom Moraine Lake we caught glimpses of the amazing emerald-coloured water and the impressive snow-fringed peaks encompassing the lake. As we approached Larch Valley our pace slowed and we were breathing a little heavier. There are two small lakes in Larch Valley which are feed by the runoff from the snowfields on Mt. Temple and Pinnacle Mountain, another impressive peak on the other side of Larch Valley. At the end of the valley there is a low saddle between Temple and Pinnacle Mountain. This is Sentinel P ass. There's a well defined trail to the top of this pass. Many people make the top of the pass their final objective. The views over into the valley on the other side are really quite impressive.

It was quite a slog up to the top of the pass but it didn't take too long. At the top of the pass we enjoyed the views, noting in particular the Grand Sentinel, a thin finger of rock which is perhaps 150 M high from base to top. On this needle of rock, there are several technical climbing routes. A couple we met on the path told us they were off to climb a new 5.10 sport route on the Grand Sentinel. Rather a long approach, but an unbeatable setting.

From Sentinel Pass a faint trail leads up the scree slopes and up the south west ridge of Mt Temple. The route is mainly on scree, and passes through three cliff bands, so it is necessary to use your route-finding skills to some degree. If you keep your eyes open the way is not hard to follow and there are a few cairns in places along the way. The main difficulty comes from climbing on the loose scree, which often slides away under your feet and really hampers your upward progress.

The first rock band involved a snow patch which extended up into a chimney through the cliffs above. The ice axes came in handy as we proceeded up into the notch on good snow. Right at the top, a stemming move on the rock got us up over the cliff band and back onto... scree! Although it's quite easy, a fall from this place would probably be fatal and in fact about a week after returning from this trip I received word that an experienced climber had taken a fatal fall at "an innocent looking snow gully" while descending Mt. Temple. Undoubtedly, this very spot! On our way down the mountain we were to have a bit of a scare here ourselves but I'll save that for the end.

The next cliff band we had to traverse under to the right to an obvious groove, which was quite straightforward. There was a bit more easy scrambling over rock but for the most part it was just more scree, which got smaller and steeper as we got higher. Going up became very laborious. The slope was wide and the views amazing but all we could do was plod along with our heads down. It was real grunt work, slogging up this last long talus slope, and for every three steps we gained, we seemed to lose one slid ing backwards. We met a few people coming down, including a couple of Park Rangers who we chatted with about conditions on nearby peaks.

Eventually we reached snow on the summit ridge, the angle lessened, and we moved along more easily up the last section to the summit itself. From the summit ridge the views were simply fantastic. The ridge was corniced and care has to be taken. Of course this means staying well clear of the fracture line of the cornices, which is often much further from the edge of the cornice than people realize. I've talked to several climbers and experienced myself looking down at the snow at my feet and seeing a hole which dropped straight through to the valley floor a thousand meters below. That gets the old digestive tract moving.

The views more than made up for the long slog up the scree slope. Iain was up ahead and suddenly he started hollering at me about the view. So I went up and had a look over the ridge, which was now on our right. There was a huge cornice hanging over the edge further back down the ridge and under that we could see Moraine Lake and the Valley of the Ten Peaks. It was really awesome, especially with the emerald colour of the lake and the snowy peaks all around it. "Tell me this isn't a little piece of Heaven," I said to Iain. "I wouldn't argue with that," he said.

Out came the cameras and then some food for a short lunch on a somewhat sheltered rocky slope just below the highest point. The summit itself was covered in deep snow. The wind was quite cool at this altitude although the weather was sunny and warm. We chatted with a couple from Calgary while having our lunch and left shortly after them, following the same way back.

Going down the talus slopes was a lot easier than going up. It was quite fun to go scree-skiing down past the climbers who were toiling their way up with agonized looks on their faces. It was easier to pick out the easiest path down from when looking down the slope from above. There were several cairns which led us to an even easier route through the cliff bands than we had found on the way up. When we arrived at the snow gulley, we found the trail through the snow was well worn into the shape of a trough, so in fine mountaineering style, we slid down it on our bums, using our ice axes as brakes. At the bottom of the snow field we met a group of young scramblers, one of whom was the fellow we ended up taking back down with us. He was a bit nervous at the height, didn't want to go any higher, certainly didn't want to go up the snow gully, and asked if he could follow us down.

From the snow field we took to the long open scree slope which led right down into Larch Valley itself rather than follow the ridge back to Sentinel Pass and then down into Larch Valley. We were below the cliff bands and although we had to take some care in the top sections of this big scree slope, the angle eased off as we got lower and pretty soon I was shuffling down through the scree, sort of scree-skiing.

We were maybe halfway down from the snow field to Larch Valley when someone yelled "Rock!". Iain, who was below me, turned and stared past me, and I knew I better look out. Turning around I saw some small boulders coming down - they went on by without doing any damage - and then I saw what appeared to be a body tumbling from the snow gulley. It was rolling down the snow field out of control, and I could see arms swinging to the sides, as if trying to grab for something, anything, but unable to stop the rolling, tumbling fall. It disappeared for a moment behind the top of a cliff band, and then a backpack shot out into space over the edge of the cliff, free-fell down to the scree slope and continued tumbling down towards us. I thought at first the climber had been able to get his pack off and grab onto something, but then I heard some laughing from above and realized that the "body" had been the backpack. The "arms" were the padded waist belt, flailing out to the sides. Someone had foolishly tried to slide t heir backpack down the snow trough and it had gained momentum and carried on down the snowfield and over the cliffs.

Although we were very relieved that no one had actually fallen, I had a few moments where my heart seemed to stop beating and I felt the kind of emotions you might feel in really witnessing a serious fall. It's a sort of helpless feeling, a tightness in the chest, and all you can think is, "Oh, %@#*!"

A few pictures in Larch Valley and then a long hike back down to Moraine Lake and we were done. This is a very good climb, a fantastic mountain with incredible views. It's ideal for climbers who want a very easy day out or for scramblers or hikers who want something a bit more challenging than the usual hikes around Lake Louise and Banff. You should be prepared for the weather to come in and expect the temperatures at the top to be cool even if the weather in the Valley is hot. Like I said, and ice axe is v ery useful, and of course, very sturdy boots are mandatory. The climb took us just over four hours from Moraine Lake to the summit. Six hours is a more average time. It took about two and a half hours going down.

There is a short description of this climb in Sean Dougherty's book "Selected Alpine Climbs in the Canadian Rockies" and there is another description in the book "Scrambles in the Canadian Rockies". The information provided is less detailed than I have presented here but there are many other great routes in both books. A map of the area might be of some use although the trails are well posted and you'd have to try pretty hard to get lost here.

Introduction: Canadian Rockies '97 Climbing Trip

Toyohashi Alpine Club
Mountaineering in the Canadian Rockies

Introduction: Canadian Rockies 1997 Trip

Banff National Park, Canada
First two weeks of August, 1997
Introduction by Darren DeRidder
Party: Iain Williams, Darren DeRidder, others.

This section contains four climbing reports from our climbing trip to the Canadian Rockies in the summer of 1997.

Iain and I met in Japan while rock climbing. There was a small group of foreigners and we called ourselves the Toyohashi Alpine Club (TAC). TAC was started by Iain, and his frequent climbing reports were the inspiration for many of my own reports and for this site. The chief activities of the TAC were trying to look cool while avoiding the lead, hot springs, and Denny's (yes, there are Denny's in Japan).

Iain and I have since returned from Japan and now live in London England and Ottawa Canada respectively. Last spring out of the blue I got a call from Iain. He asked me what I was up to. "Not much", I said, "it's not as if there are any big adventures on the horizon."

"Oh, there are, my boy, there are", was Iain's reply. Iain had hatched a couple of plans, one of which was to go back to Switzerland and finally knock off the Matterhorn, the other was to come to the Canadian Rockies (good idea!) to climb a few peaks. Plan B it was.

We spent the first two weeks of August in the Rockies and had a fantastic time. We made four successful climbs, had excellent weather almost the entire time, and no accidents. We climbed Mt. Temple, Mt. Edith, Mt. Athabasca, and Mt. Victoria. Reports of all four climbs are here.

I would like to say thank you to Iain, because he was very generous in sponsoring the largest portion of this expedition from his own finances, kindly taking my student lifestyle into consideration. It was great to climb together again, and I found Iain's enthusiasm and energy for climbing made him a nearly perfect partner.

Enjoy the reports!