Rockies Classics Part 1
by Ptor Spricenieks
photography by Jon Walsh

Mt Forbes 3612m, NW Face

Forbes is the highest peak in Banff National Park and
is seen looming above it's neighbour summits from many
vistas. It is a true rockies giant, definately
deserving of a more exotic name. For Johnny "Red"
Walsh and I, it's aesthetic North West Face reaching
almost 12,000ft., remote situation, and mandatory fair
means approach, were the attributes that put it in the
"classic" category and made it a priority when the
magic September full moon conditons manifested
themselves in the fall of '97. We decided to go as
light and fast as possible for this one, counting on
the window to be there the day of the full moon.

The 20k from the Icefields Parkway to the headwaters
of the Glacier River and the base of the Mons Glacier
were softened somewhat by the buffed park trail and
the gorgeous views around Glacier Lake. At the back of
the valley, the trail disappears and inevitably the
river has to be forded before getting to the headwall
accessing the Mons Glacier. At this point there was
still 2000m vertical and 8km kilometers remaining. We
decided to cross the river and camp in a cushy grass
meadow, reluctant to carry our full load any further
into steeper terrain.

It didn't seem realistic to try and route find the
way up the class 3 limestone ledge scramble by
headlight so we waited for first light before starting
up. The dawn colours were going off as we crested into
the alpine setting. After crossing the Mons Glacier,
the undulating, rocky terrain led to the tounge of
Forbes' north glacier and the pyramid face looming
above. Approaching on thin snow cover, the face looked
to be in decent condition with an old fracture near
the bottom of it's 500m vertical. After skinning as
far up as possible, the remaining boot packing wasn't
ideal with punchy lead steps. I distinctly remember
the summit seeming to roll further and further away
into the distance as I approached it. The day had
taken it's toll on us and we indulged in a lengthy
food and safety meeting in the afternoon glory. That
all turned to "hey, it's a long way back to the tent!"
when the sun began to near the horizon.

The snow was soft but variable and crusty in spots,
making us search for the good turns. The steepest
part, although barely reaching 50 degrees was probably
the middle, through the exposed rock bands that divide
the face. The descent was memorable for the burn of
the sunset and the legs.1200m of skiing later, at the
edge of the north glacier, the light was fading.
Racing, we made it back across the Mons Glacier as the
stars showed up but it was futile, we would not be
having dinner this night. We were exhausted with no
spare energy for failed attempts at finding the way
and descending the exposed headwall. In other words,
benighted.

It wasn't below freezing but the glacier winds made
us look for shelter behind ledges and boulders and
then empty out our packs to crawl in. My old backpack
happened to be made precisely for just such an
occaision and had a built in mini-sleeping pad and a
giant powder cuff that went up to my waist when
"inside". Neither of us could really sleep or get
comfortable. I amused myself by smoking bowls and
playing "time guess" with my new "glow on demand"
digital pocketwatch. At aproximately 4:20AM, during
one of the instances where we might have actually been
asleep, it began to drizzle rain. By the time we
packed up and wandered zombie-like towards where we
thought the trail dropped into the headwall it was
really raining. As soon as there was light we
carefully descended the slick rocks and returned to
the tent drenched to the bone. The good part was we
had a backbreaking amount of fresh veggies and other
gourmet ingredients, dry clothes and dry sleeping bags
inside a dry tent. We made a huge dinner for breakfast
and fell right asleep.

A couple of hours later, the rain had stopped, giving
us a window to pack up comfortably and get back to
Johnny's Chateau Club Wagon for some real sleep. The
long flat march back took until midnight and we were
now totally worked but content with such a nice ski
descent completed just as the autumn rains closed in
the for the next 2 months. Classic, just as we had
suspected.

To this point, we haven't heard of any other parties
skiing the NW Face of Forbes which is surprising for
such an easy but hard classic. Love to hear some other
stories if they're out there.

Mt Clemenceau 3658m, W Face

The west face descending from the south summit of Mt
Clemenceau is definately not "the" line on this
isolated Western Rockies giant, but it was a great
warm up run to begin a Clemenceau/Columbia Icecap
traverse. Johnny "Red" Walsh, Andre Ike, Dave Lussier,
Ethan Brocket and I flew onto the Tusk Glacier from
Golden one fine afternoon, basically to ski over to
Ethan's car, already dropped on the icefields parkway.
Steve, at Alpenglow Aviation, boosted us on one of the
most scenic flights I've ever had. Tsar Mountain,
c'est magnifique quoi! On our approach to the Tusk
Glacier landing zone we could see grizzly tracks fully
scoping the Laurence Grassi Hut . Staying at the hut
became less tempting but we needed to get used to
sleeping on a glacier and be closer to Clemenceau
anyways.

It was mid-March '99, a banner season in the Rockies
and we were entering this zone after a few good blue
bird days. Yes, we shoulda been there yesterday. But
it all still looked good as we shaped our snow
furniture in our snow living room. Stars, friends and
crucial food. No problem. West facing itineraries are
great because you don't have to get up super early.
The next morning we got up especially not super early
because there happened to be a guided group there to
ski the west side of the mountain as well. Doh! There
wasn't supposed to be anybody out here. We definately
did not want to interfere with the clients' sense of
isolation and diminish it by breaking trail for them.
Soon enough we would be super alone and have
"everything" to ourselves once on the Clemenceau
Glacier.

The classic route up the mountain follows the giant
benches of the Tiger Glacier. On the way up however,
we could not go slow enough to not overtake them.
Eventually, everybody enjoyed the magnificent summit
together, cloudless and warm. What a window
considering it could easily have been gnarly cold. <B>I
made a few steps down the north face on belay but it
rolled off out of view with no way to tell the route
nor conditions below. Not a face to be dropped in on
blindly.

The route the guided group was to ski was basically
the ascent route, not inspiring without at least some
powder on it. The obvious line was the big face which
began somewhat south of us down the knife ridge.
Walking it didn't look fun as there were many
cauliflower and cornice dealies that made it look
impassable. It was however passable traversing on skis
just below the cornices on the west side. In 1 minute
we traversed over and onto the face keeping our speed
across the exposed 50 degree terrain. Now we were in
position for some sustained fall line! Only a few
hundred meters but enough to get the lungs going while
carving. Lots of rolling balls following as you skied.
Some powder lanes in the lower ice features, a small
bergshrund jump and it was all cruising in transformed
snow the rest of the way. It had really warmed up by
the bottom, some 1300m below and on the last little
slope before the Tusk Glacier flats we all started
small oozing avalanches.

That afternoon we rested and feasted on all the heavy
luxury items we had set aside for our first dinners.
The Clemenceau, Tusk, Irvine amphitheater was a fine
situation and there was no reason to leave considering
the good conditions, weather and interesting things to
do there except that the plan was to do the traverse
and ski Mt Columbia along the way. It was a long way
to go in a sketchy place for weather. The high
pressure began to crumble the next day as we set off
to the east up the Clemenceau glacier. Now we were a
long way out, a few days going light in any direction
to even get to a road. I like this kind of exposure
and what it inbibes in me. Freedom? Makes the company
of good and capable friends all the more poignant.

As a team, we had 10 days of supplies to make it
with. The weather never came in too hard and we were
equipped with GPS and experience so we never really
stopped moving over the well filled in glaciers. After
the Clemenceau Glacier we crossed the Apex, Chaba and
Wales glaciers before reaching Mt King Edward and the
Columbia Icefield. All along the way there had been
beautiful lines to ski, too many to mention. Vastness.
It was a whole new perspective on the Rockies.
Finally, standing below Mt. Columbia shrouded in
uncertain clouds, passing the crux of the traverse and
potentially navigating more glacier on the high
portion of the Columbia Icefield seemed unappealing.
We made the group decision of descending to the Bush
River and after a good night's rest in the olfactory
extravagance of trees, continued eastward up Rice
Brook to Thompson Pass. There was snow all the way to
the valley bottom and travelling was good along the
logging roads. We camped beneath the east end of Mt
Bryce making a nice fire from a slashpile scraps to
keep the clouds and winds at bay. Just to be near Big
Bad Bryce, ooooooo!

Despite no longer traversing on glaciers, the
scenario did not get any less beautiful nor less
interesting on the approach to Castleguard meadows, it
just wasn't so flat. As we were tripping out in the
trees, nearing the crest into the open meadows, we
came upon a large cave mouth. It turned out to have a
well built cage/door barring passage into the dark
beyond. It seemed strange to bar access to a natural
feature in a national park and in our wild eyed state,
we first thought that "they" must be hiding something.
There must be a giant spaceship frozen under the ice
which they don't want anybody to see or maybe it's a
super secret Illuminati underground complex rumoured
to exist somewhere in the rockies (like where all the
black helicopters and blacked out Suburbans with no
plates come from). Or maybe it was an entrance to the
inner earth! Turned out that it was the entrance to
one of the largest cave systems around, reputedly
reaching undreneath the Columbia Icecap itself,
explored only to a known 28km. Understandably, the
National Park had sealed off it's entrance to avoid
potentially dangerous amateur exploration. At the
time, the first week of spring, the cave would have
been free from flood danger and there would have been
nothing better in our state of mind to than to
penetrate into these mysterious depths of the earth.
Since nobody brought any dynamite or cutting torches,
the only thing left to do was keep ski touring.

Up in the meadows, puffy and pervasive clouds with
constant flurries cyclically shrouded Mt. Castleguard,
Terrace Mountain and the other spread out peaks of the
area. By the time we set camp just overlooking the
Saskatchewan Glacier, the temperature had dropped. It
was finally cold again and the weather seemed ready to
clear but that was the end of our session and we were
completely out of food. I myself had a rough last day
and was in no condition for any further skiing. As our
food rations didn't match our caloric output at the
end, the worms that were unknowingly and parasitically
hanging out in my innards were no longer getting their
quota and began eating me. This, as I learned later
was the reason for massive "stomach" pains that
sporadically sent me to the ground writhing. Maybe I
had picked them up while in Colombia earlier that
winter and it took a few months to notice. Who knows
how long they would have hung out for if I never got
half starved!

So we almost pulled our goal, but that's awesome
considering the odds you get when you're dealing with
limited supplies while committed to traversing the
wild icecaps of the Rockies. Returning safely is
always the priority. Flexibility, i.e. not being
attached to a particular outcome, is crucial in
maintaining oneself "in the flow" of things and
chosing appropriate action. That was the third time I
had gone to ski Mt Columbia and I still haven't had
the privelige yet. The way everything ended up on that
adventure made that day on the summit of Clemenceau
all the more sweet. Classic, just as we had suspected.


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