Background
I’m not great at sitting still; Nick refers to me ‘buzzing’ when I really get into a nervous tension, looking for something to do. I’ll wash the dishes, find something in my pack to fiddle with, all the while what I should be doing is sitting on my ass.
Well, after Nick, Lane and I spent a few days up at Rogers Pass it was a period to sit still and plot our next move. It got really hot everywhere and things needed to cool off for a bit. Nick headed home to return to work, I nearly rip-corded back home with him; Lane could sense it too. Thankfully, I stayed the course with Lane and we brainstormed ideas together, working on embracing the ‘in-between’, the void between shots of dopamine.
A few years back, our friends Thomas Kakatsakis and Manny Pachecho did a variation on the McBride Traverse where they traversed from Whistler to Garibaldi over the course of 4 days. The memory of their trip really fired Lane and I up, Lane especially as he was eager to ‘finally see the Coast Range’. I was psyched to go for a walk, this year I’ve been trying to embrace ‘time in terrain’ and see time on skis as time on skis. I’m not normally much of a traverser, but with upgrades to my kit and partners who are psyched, it’s been a fun switch-up to my normal rhythms.
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Dude, what if we heli bump to Currie?
It was an exciting idea. We mapped it out, it’d be doable to go from Currie to Garibaldi over the course of 5 days with some exciting terrain added north of the Spearhead. We read a few trip reports of people that’d done it previously, the fire was lit. All I had to do was call Blackcomb Heli the next day and get a quote for the heli bump, one that I probably wouldn’t want to know but if I just ‘swiped the card’ could forget about, hopefully behind great memories.
Trip Report
Day 1 – Apr 22 – Currie to Wedge
The whole start to the trip was comically ‘lux’: when we checked into our hotel the night before, they mentioned a hot tub and sauna. Then our heli drop wasn’t until 10:30 AM the next morning, so we could sleep in and get Tim Horton’s. Wow, this is quite different than forest bushwhacking up thousands of feet with the hogs fully loaded.
We headed over to Blackcomb Heli after some Tim’s and prepped to load into the choppa. Not surprisingly, the check-in process for the helicopter was incredibly smooth; they must know that it adds peace of mind to not tangibly have to ‘pay’ for your expensive air-drop. It ended up coming out to around $950 USD for the heli ride, which split between Lane and I was around $450 / person. We tried to fill the seats last minute through a Facebook post, but no bites.
Our pilot chatted us up, as we strapped shoes and sleeping pads to our packs. He was a local, living in Whistler for 25+ years and now in Pemberton. He was psyched, we were psyched, the vibes were great. He showed us around the AStar, explaining how to operate the ‘very expensive doors’. It all felt a little surreal to be honest; sadly, the only time I’ve ridden in a helicopter before was an airlift in a Navy helicopter during a medical evacuation. I was stoked to clean that memory with a new one.
In a matter of minutes, we were whisked from the heliport to just below the summit of Mt. Currie, maybe 50′ (15m or so) below the true summit. Our pilot nimbly plopped us down, out we hopped, and seconds later off he turned back to the heliport. To be honest, my brain could not comprehend what had just happened.
Dude, there’s way too much going on in my brain right now, I told Lane. I felt somewhere between blur and hallucination, lagging behind my understanding of the neurons rattling around in my cranium. With packs off, we hiked up the final feet to the summit of Currie to begin our traverse, as if this was us topping out Revelstoke Mountain Resort or The King at Crystal. Skiing off the top of Currie sans packs is outrageous, I laughed.
Back at our packs, we stared out at the expanse in front of us. And surprisingly, if I’m being 100% honest, I felt uneasy. I think most of us seek a calmness, a quiet in the mountains that we’re unable to experience in the ‘real world’, muting the noise and buzz of our responsibilities and assignments from x, y, or z. Instead of that tranquility, I felt the void of noise filled by recent life events rather than quiet. And I wasn’t fully prepared for that, for all the time with me, with my thoughts, with just my big ol’ dumb cranium.
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Going into the trip, Lane and I weren’t sure if norths were going to hold onto cold, dry snow or not; getting heli-dropped atop Currie, we pretty instantly realized. . . nope. No pow, corn-time. We clicked into our skis and immediately skied outrageous corn down the south face towards Mystery Creek. The terrain looked so conducive to traversing and the conditions were absolutely perfect for it and only getting better. We bumped over each ridgeline, snacking atop and enjoying the different cadence and pace of the traverse compared to a day trip. Whoosh, whoosh of the skins on the crusty snow. Reach a pass, stop and snack. Rip skins, ski down. Repeat.
We continued on throughout the afternoon, past Mount Moe then past The Owls, which a Squamish friend had urged us to check out. The north facing couloirs looked rad! Steep, but not in condition at the moment. Like many great trips, we ended drawing more lines on our maps than when we had started. The Canadian slope angle shading and topographic maps are quite coarse when compared to the ‘cheat code’ we have in the States with LIDAR and high-resolution mapping. It’s a learning experience to look at 50m contour lines, wondering if something actually is ‘chill’ or just a vertical wall.
We mosied across the Weart Glacier into the late afternoon, pushing towards the south side of Wedge. We’d mapped out a few ‘side hits’ that we were interested in for the traverse, the south face of Wedge being one of them. We bumped through a saddle just to the east of Lesser Wedge Mountain and traversed as much as we could around to the west below the south face of Wedge, hoping to get a good view. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see much and what we did see didn’t look continuous to the top. We discussed, opting to make camp at a nice bench around 2000m at treeline, foregoing the push to the summit of Wedge tomorrow but rather skiing a little knob along the SE Ridge of Wedge in the morning that got first light.
We shaped up our camp and ate each course of our dinner, staring out at the backside of the Spearhead Range. Memories of when I did the Spearhead a few years back rattled around my mind, of skiing off Tremor in the evening light and exiting out Blackcomb in the pitch dark. The flood of emotions overran my mental dam a bit, sleep was welcomed to quiet it all down.
Day 2 – Apr 23 – Wedge to Cheakamus River
My friend Michael made me a modified Feathered Friends Vireo bag this year and that, paired with down booties (also from FF), has to be the ultimate traverse kit upgrade that has made overnighting more enjoyable. I slept well through the night, waking to a calmer mind and well-frozen corn snow. Morning coffee and oats reminded me of thru-hiking I used to do years ago, rinsing and repeating the same diet happily.
Lane and I threw a meager few items in our packs for our quick morning corn harvest, laughing at how light our packs were. We just booted straight up the two aspects of the knob above camp, quickly grabbing a few ski runs before strapping the hogs back on for the day. The corn wasn’t quite cooked but soft enough, with a slight shmear of butter.
Back at camp, we packed up and prepared for the descent into the valley. Our traverse had two low points: one to get from Wedge to the Spearhead, the other to get from the Spearhead to the McBride. Neither seemed all too terrible but we expected some forest skiing and that we got. It went quickly enough and we topped off water in a stream just above Wedge Pass before continuing on towards our big climb for the day up the Shudder Glacier.
The glaciers felt well filled in and Lane and I mosied at our own paces up the Shudder. We regretted not bringing the speaker that Nick and Michael had brought on our last traverse, a gear note for next time. We topped out Shudder Mountain, getting a clear view of the Spearhead and seeing the superhighway of the Spearhead Traverse below. A quick ski down to the Platform Glacier, then on the ‘track’ towards the Ripsaw and Ripsaw Ridge.
Our time on the Spearhead was going to be brief, as we were headed down the Naden Glacier towards the Cheakamus River. We clicked into our bindings and arced turns down the Naden Glacier, amazed at how well the eastern slope skied in the mid afternoon hours. Yes, there was some schmoo lower down below Naden Pass, but nothing too bad. We transitioned for a quick bump over a small knob to get on the northern side of the Cheakamus River, then mosied into the late afternoon up the river valley towards the toe of the McBride Glacier. I had emailed myself a copy of Thomas and Manny’s trip report, reading about where they had camped. We followed suit, finding a nice meadow in the runout of huge avalanche swaths above, that thankfully had already done their thing and were mostly bare (and re-freezing).
We hung our skins out to dry and enjoyed another evening of double dinner, couscous and ramen tonight. The rhythms of traverse-life were setting in, consistent movement paused by intermittent periods of camping. Ski backpacking, as Lane joked.
Day 3 – Apr 24 – Cheakamus River to tarn SW of Forger Peak
Day three started with a big climb up the McBride Glacier, which was impressively huge. Again, we mosied up, dreaming about what it would be like to ski the north-facing McBride in powder. We topped out the col beneath Sir Richard, similar to Thomas foregoing the top-out of Sir Dick.
Lane had a good vision of milking solar aspects on the route with a little extra credit and he found us a sweet little run on the eastern side of the Ubysses Glacier. We dropped southeast into a bowl on the east-side of the ridge, then back up west towards the Gatekeeper and towards the pass east of the Snow Bowl Glacier. We faffed around a bit with this section; there was a skin track steeply up towards the top of the Snow Bowl but we opted to ski north into the lower glacier and then ascend, after some faffing around.
The climb up the Snow Bowl was again massive, slope-angle and 50m contours don’t do it justice. It’s a HUGE glacier, with sastrugi waves that make it feel like an ocean of ice and snow. We were stoked to check out the SW side of Forger Peak, then camp beneath Drop Pass in the drainage to the west of Forger. We continued up, marveling at the 1000’+ slope above us that on slope angle looked like nothing.
Atop Forger we scoped our line, down along the ridge a little ways and then traversing into the glacier basin below. There was a peppering of rocks we’d have to navigate, but it all seemed doable. We snacked, gazed, then set off for our final descent of the day. The traverse in through the rocks was a little sketchy, quite steep and briefly exposed with some schmoo-y snow but went quickly enough.
Then. . . soul corn. Soulful turns down through a huge glacier cirque again broke the brain. We arced down towards a tarn at 1600m (4800′) where we paused and remarked ‘this would be a pretty damn good camp spot’. Evening light, a dry tent pad, and running water??? Yes please.
We set up a drying line with our skis as a bipod, lounging in the dry camp and thoroughly enjoying the evening hours. Double dinners were a boon, tricking our stomachs into thinking it was actually enough food. This was by far our best campsite and night of sleep of the entire trip, but also the most buzzing my brain did over the 5 days. But this time, I just let the emotions flow, riding it rather than trying to tamp it down.
Day 4 – Apr 25 – Tarn SW of Forger Peak to Phoenix Glacier
Wow, that was the best sleep I’ve had outside in a while. We slept like the rocks we lay on, enjoying the warmth and comfort of our luxurious campsite. Packing up camp was quick and we were on our way towards Drop Pass when. . .
Dude, that’s a wolverine!! Lane has seen a number of wolverines on his forays into the hills but this was the first time I’d actually seen the creature. We were psyched!
Up we sauntered towards Drop Pass, approaching the ‘cruxy’ climb towards Sinister Peak that trip reports focus on. We again looked at our maps, noting coarse slope angle shading and nebulous topography that could either be a series of easy glacial benches or steep complex terrain. Lane is really great at navigating this type of terrain; he toggles between imagery and topo, overlaying the two into a mesh that leads the way more often than not. I’ve enjoyed learning from him, trying to refine my craft and improve. He plotted an easier way up Sinister that stayed lower from Drop Pass but then gradually climbed up to the saddle just before Sinister.
We topped out Sinister, where I clicked into my skis like a dumbass and Lane, more wisely, continued to the sub summit just to the west where we could actually ski from. I shuttled my skis like a goofball over to where he transitioned and then we ski traversed down towards Hour Peak. The north face of Hour Peak called to us like an Alaskan line, for powder conditions someday.
We mosied around Hour Peak and tossed around the idea of the east/northeast face of Isosceles Peak but after quick inspection it was quite firm and not corn. We marveled at a massive wind scoop that must have been 50+ feet tall; Lane noted how these features are what scare him the most in whiteout navigation, easily sneaking up on you and them BAM!
We made a crunchy traverse through the saddle between Isosceles and Crosscut Ridge towards Gray Pass. We stared up at the climb towards the Bookworms with confusion. Uhhh, that looks weird. Again, slope angle and topography didn’t quite capture the scale. Once we started moving up it, though, it was pretty simple and we traversed over a sneak-through right around 2400m west towards the Bookworms. Our traverse was coming to a close, quickly! We were now leaving the McBride route, on a one-way ticket towards Garibaldi.
We were psyched to check out the west facing Sphinx Glacier, a short ‘side hit’ before camp on the Phoenix Glacier. We wanted to position ourselves well for the final push up Garibaldi the next day but didn’t want to camp too high. Thomas had camped on the Phoenix and noted it was a decent spot to camp on the icecap. The west facing run down the Sphinx had to be one of the best, if not the best, run of the trip. It started out a little 3D and crunchy but then became butter smooth, low angle and absolutely ripping corn. With lighter hogs on day 4 of 5, we arced GS turns above Garibaldi Lake with joyous grins.
We lounged on a rock at the base of the Sphinx Glacier before the final slog up to Sphinx Pass. The north facing climb was now quite hot in the heat of the day and very, very flat. We were very glad that it wasn’t this warm most of the trip because man. . . it was warm. Atop Sphinx Pass we reset the slog mind and looked down on the Phoenix Glacier, home for the night. I tried to eye up some trickles on the exposed rocks around us but none seemed to be trickling quite enough.
We made camp on the Phoenix, just below the crest of the glacier on the eastside. We hoped for morning sun and maybe a little protection from katabatic winds down the Garibaldi icecap. It was late afternoon but the days are long now and we lounged in the sun for quite a while. Traverse life slowed time, down to a quiet hum of minutes to hours to days.
The night was unfortunately windy and we got our worst night of sleep of the trip but with just one final push left, we didn’t mind.
Day 5 – Apr 26 – Phoenix Glacier to Elfin / Diamond Head
Taking inventory of food on the last day of a multi-day trip always makes me laugh. Day two I always note how food rich I am. Day N/N I always realize how food poor I am. Damn, I packed just enough. . . juuuuust enough. I had a PB&J, a few granola bars and a quarter quesadilla left to get me over Garibaldi and towards Elfin. That’d be enough. Better be…
Lane and I had discussed exit options, either via Brohm Ridge as Thomas had gone or via the Garibaldi-Neve out to Diamond Head/Elfin Lakes. We were most psyched on going out the Garibaldi-Neve, skiing a SE aspect between Garibaldi’s true summit and Atwell Peak. We weren’t sure what getting from the true summit to the crater rim would be like but we didn’t think much of it.
We were quickly up and out in the morning and made a traverse over towards the Warren Glacier where we started directly up towards Garibaldi. There was a bootpack to the moon, a stairway to heaven that was visible from the day prior. The northeast face of Garibaldi proper looked less intimidating up close than it had from afar, still with a proper bergschrund though! It was bridged on the far climber’s righthand side but clearly opening fast.
We leapfrogged a group of climbers at the schrund’ and then continued up the final pitch to the summit. Topping out, we fist bumped. Hell yea dude! What a journey! We looked to the south, noting Wedge on the skyline but not quite making out Currie. It wasn’t over yet but we were joyous to get this far.
We walked down the summit ridgeline, noting huh, this looks complex. Cliffs dropped off on the southwest side, with one rimey gulley seeming like a potential descent route towards the crater plateau. We discussed, not loving the idea of downclimbing it with one axe. Lane was particularly psyched to get adventurous and we talked about rappelling down. It looked to go clean, but we couldn’t quite see. We had a 40m and 30m rope that we could tie together to make a 30m rappel. . . now what to use as an anchor? There was a lone stick on the summit I went to poach, but it must have not been longer than a Nalgene in length. We can deadman my probe, Lane offered. Dude, we don’t have to do that, I tried to emphasize. I didn’t want to force Lane to bail on gear he cared about, but he was psyched on the adventure on the south side out to Elfin and he wanted a new probe anyways, he insisted.
We deadmanned Lane’s probe and sent him down the first 30 meters, where he radioed up ‘it cliffs out!’. He persevered though, insisting there was good ice where he was to make a V-thread for a second rappel. I shuttled my ice screw down to him with abalakov, wondering if this was worth the effort. This’ll be good training dude, Lane insisted. And he was right, this was a perfect opportunity for some faff-training: a pretty controlled environment with some time to spare, in good weather, improvising an anchor. It took me a second to settle into the waiting game but I threw on my vest and watched as Lane scratched, taking his time to make a solid v-thread. After some time he radioed he was off rappel and on the anchor, backed up by my screw, and down I went to him. We’re committed now. . .
Lane made a solid anchor and I gave him kudos for keeping a cool head, sticking with it and taking time to do it right. He headed down the second rappel, noting that the 30m rope barely touched but did touch some snow that we could descend to the crater plateau. Hell ya.
We skinned over towards the saddle between Atwell and Garibaldi proper and looked at photos we’d taken from afar. There were a few schrunds’ to contend with but the lines seemed to go, our favored one most skier’s left on the panel. We peered over, finding that there was a panel even further skier’s left that didn’t have a schrund. Wow! This is turning out even better than expected! The faffery of the rappel was appearing to pay off.
With a quick pole scrape, we were pleasantly surprised by glory corn on the run off Garibaldi/Atwell saddle. Lane called it the best run of the trip, I still contend it was a toss-up between that and the Sphinx Glacier. Regardless, it was an outrageous run, especially coming off the rappel shenanigans. We skied down to a bench right around 2200m where we traversed to the south towards the Diamond Glacier. We were in awe of Atwell Peak, as many are, not just for its north facing Siberian Express lines but also its south facing couloirs! RAD!
The corn just kept on going; we bumped up to Diamond Head, and then another little bump and we skied between the Gargoyles and Columnar Peak towards the Elfin Lakes hut. This really, really feels like the Baker backcountry, Lane noted. Indeed, rolling corn as far as the eye can see.
I killed my final granola bar atop the final ski descent and peered out at the trail from Elfin towards Round Mountain. Alright Sam, grind-time. Time to just slog it out. We hit the super-highway of snowshoe tracks and I just put the head down, thinking about the return to endless bounds of food in town. As we neared Round, Lane could tell I was a little off, for some reason. I gave up the fact that I was out of food and he graciously offered some of his remaining gummy candies. Thanks dude. That really helped, a lot.
Going into the trip, Lane and I had discussed our exit plan. Our car was parked at Blackcomb Heli north of Whistler. Our ~rough~ plan was to hitchhike down from Elfin to Squamish and then either hitch or Uber from there back to Blackcomb Heli. I mentioned to Lane I wasn’t sure Uber worked in Canada, but the app loaded and priced out a ride, so it seemed legit. . . enough.
Lane pointed out that to get a hitch, we had to look less. . . serial killer like. Our OuterU face shield with buffs and sunglasses didn’t help our cause. Once we hit treeline we ditched the bird masks and sunglasses, trying to appear some semblance of normal. Lane was better than I at chatting with people that we passed along the way, seeding our ride down the mountain.
We didn’t quite manage to get through the trip without putting the skis on the packs and hiking; we had about 1.5 km of walking. . . . waaaaaah. By far the most pleasant traverse experience I’ve had. We reached the parking lot and Lane loaded the Uber app. Dude, should we just Uber from here?? We doubted that anyone would pick us up from the Diamond Head parking lot but we hit the button to hail a ride. Minutes of endless circling revealed no luck. Lane headed back up the trail to try and get better service, while I waited in the parking lot. Minutes later, he returned with a dude by his side, chatting with a smile. Hell ya Lane, my fucking man. Micah, our savior, had been out for a jaunt up to Elfin and offered us a ride down to Squam.
Micah was a crusher and talked about skiing around the Coast Range. He had been out aroun Garibaldi and had put in the bootpack up Atwell that we’d eyed from Garibaldi. Rad! He dropped us off just across the street from Tim Horton’s. Tim’s?, Lane asked. Easy answer. . .
I’m not sure how long the donut and wrap that I ordered existed in front of me, maybe seconds? At Tim’s we tried loading the Uber app again, same circle of nothingness. Hmmm. . . let’s just go try our luck on the highway. We walked across the Sea-to-Sky, positioning ourselves just past a stoplight with our skis and packs on, trying to look somewhat ‘cool’ to attract a ride, not just some entirely homeless bums.
Within 10 minutes Chantel picked us up, our next hero! She was a local living near Whistler who asked us, so. . . what was your plan to get back?
Well, we’d planned to try and Uber.
(Laugh) We don’t have Uber here. (Chuckle)
Doh. Our semblance of a plan comical now. We tried to undirtbag the dirtbag exit with Uber, but alas, we ended up hitching back. Chantel chatted with us, our tour guide for the ride back. Thank you so much!!!
Back at the car, we finally decompressed. Wow dude, back at the car. We did it. We still had a long drive back home, but we would get home before midnight. A Sunny Chibas burrito did the trick before the haul back across the border.
What a trip. This traverse was a gem and included both amazing skiing and great scenery. None of the terrain was too intense, all was pretty sensibly ‘traverse’ terrain. Lane was a great partner, someone I continue to learn from and really enjoy spending time in and out of the mountains with.
I write this trip report for myself, to unpack the memories and emotions and etch them into some sort of personal history. I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge to myself the echo chamber of emotions rattling around in my cranium on this trip, though. And yes, the skiing was rad, the terrain was sweet, and the positions wild.