Ghost Valley

February 25, 2017

Tod and I had plans to take a quick trip out to Alberta for some quality ice climbing. He has been climbing ice and alpine routes for about twenty years longer than I, so obviously I was psyched to get out and gain some experience with him. On our drive to Canmore, we stopped to check out Marble Canyon. This slot canyon is home to some awesome rappel accessed climbs of about 40m in height. We spent a few hours top-roping a cool WI5+ pitch (Tokkum Pole) with a few variations and some fun mixed climbing. It was a perfect start to the trip. We eventually made our way to Canmore and found a place to call home for a couple days.

Tod rappelling into Marble Canyon

Standing beneath Tokkum Pole

We made our plans for the next day and prepared the kit for our objective: The Sorcerer. The climb is a remote and adventurous outing with about 215m of water ice and goes at WI5. The climb is located near Ghost Valley, in the Johnson Creek drainage. The drive out of Canmore was uneventful, and we made decent time getting to the Ghost Valley. What we found there was some very involved off-road driving. Tod’s driving prowess is the only reason that we made it to the parking area. For about an hour, we travelled rutted and snow covered roads, frozen creeks, flooded meadows, and snowy river beds that had been so scoured by the wind, that there was no apparent trail to follow. I have read some horror stories about folks getting stuck out in the Ghost during winter, and I feel lucky to have made it in so easily.

The “road” into Ghost Valley as viewed from the parking area

After parking we started the trek towards the climb. The snow had been compacted and scoured by the wind, so the travelling was not too bad. We expected the approach to take somewhere between 45 minutes to an hour…an hour and forty-five minutes later we were racking up. We made it to the base of the climb with relative ease except for the last 100m or so. This final slope was steep and waist deep with that low density Rocky Mountain pow. We took turns breaking trail for nearly an hour through the deep, and finally stomped out a proper belay ledge. The kit we settled on included 14 screws, quickdraws and a couple of screamers. We had two Sterling 9mm X 60m ropes and our personal lockers and rappel set ups.

Looking up at the climb from the approach

We planned to tackle the climb in four pitches. I would lead the first block of pitches and Tod would lead the second block. The information we had led us to believe that the first block would go at WI3, and that the second block would gradually increase from WI4 to WI5. I set off on the first 55m pitch and immediately felt the magnitude of this climb. The pitch rose in two distinct steps. I labored my way up the first step feeling apprehensive, but by the time I got to the second step I was feeling confident and started moving efficiently. The pitch ends below a short snow field in a rock band that acts as a funnel. I found the bolt used for the belay and brought Tod up after shaking off the barfies. I had climbed to the end of the rope and was forced to stop in a position that was not great. Due to this fact, Tod passed through my belay and started leading up the snowfield. He arrived at the next section of ice and we agreed that it would be most efficient if he just finished leading the second pitch. He placed a screw and was about to pull onto the ice when all hell broke loose.

Tod nearing the first pitch pitch belay

A loud noise from above gave me cause to shift my gaze upward. I saw that a massive amount of snow was about to decimate us. I watched terrified, as an avalanche appeared to land directly on Tod. There was not much time to think before the mass of snow funneled right into my stance, so naturally I went to a negative headspace. Here in Cascadia, our snow is very dense, and so I mentally prepared to treat Tod for a hopefully just a concussion while carrying him out of this extremely remote location. Though first I would have to manage to stay on my feet.

I grabbed the head of each tool and pressed my body flat into the wall of ice. I could see and feel the snow pulling at my body and filling up my clothing. It felt like going under a swell in the ocean while holding onto a surfboard. I expected to get pulled off of my stance at best; pulled off the face of the mountain at worst. The slope was steep enough that the snow mostly glanced off of me, and I managed to hold on. When I could finally look up again, I yelled out to see if Tod was alright. He was just fine; the low density snow had very little effect on him. We shook off the snow, and Tod continued the pitch.

At the top of the second pitch I was starting to feel cold. This route is in the shade and I had just been half buried in snow. Tod set out to lead the third pitch as I was now back to an apprehensive attitude. The moves here were awesome, and hard right out of the belay! With the left hand, he had to reach out and delicately hook a chandelier-ed ice curtain that started the pitch. His right hand grabbed onto the back side of the curtain and he stepped out into WI5 terrain 100m off the deck. The exposure of this move seemed huge due to the valley floor being far below us. Tod worked his way up that pitch, and it seemed to be taking a long time. I was tucked up under the ice so I could not see what he was dealing with until I followed the pitch.

Tod setting out on the third pitch

It was miserable. The climbing on the pitch was quite nice, but the conditions had become serious. There was now consistently falling snow and ice; the spindrift was unrelenting. Once again, my clothes were filling with snow. The conditions were so consistently terrible, that I could not see half of the time and on top of that, my gloves were frozen. At the belay, we briefly discussed the severity of the situation, and decided that we needed to get off of this ticking time bomb. I switched into my belay gloves, and we set up for the decent. The worsening conditions followed us all the way down, and by the time hit the ground, our tracks were entirely gone. We dug up our packs(they were literally buried), put away our gear, and started the hike out. We felt accomplished even though the mountain forced us off early. Sometimes it is best to hedge your bets and walk away. The hike out was quick, about 45 minutes. After another hour of fun and exciting driving, we were speeding off to Canmore for much needed food and beers.

Selfie before the decent

Wintery day out!