News on the topic of climate change suggests that glaciers worldwide are retreating at an ever increasing rate. I like to ski on glaciers in the summer, but if these forecasts are true, by the time I’m ninety I may have to fall back on lawn bowling for fun.

In early July, I put together a whirlwind three day backcountry trip to visit some of my favourite endangered glaciated terrain. I contacted my friend Chris McMechan and told him of the plan. He was in. (Like me, he’s the kind of guy who thinks hiking long distances with skis and boots strapped to your pack for a few turns on a glacier is a good idea).

Our starting point was the Burstall Pass trailhead south of Canmore, Alberta on the Smith-Dorrien Road. A short distance from the trailhead the French Creek valley branches off and leads to the French Glacier. I’ve done this route many times in ski season but sections of the summer trail reminded me of why I like winter—things were complicated by mosquitoes, willows and a ford of French Creek in full run-off mode (we opted for bare feet in ski boot shells—painful yet effective). I hope the memories of the first hours of this trip fade quickly.

Once on the glacier we were in our element:



The straightforward trip up the French Glacier delivered us to the col between Mount French and Mount Robertson, beyond which is the Haig Glacier.

The Haig is a relatively large, sprawling entity. As we were crossing it we got hammered by a fast moving thunderstorm. Luckily, someone had left a Snowcat out there. We took refuge in it until the weather cleared.



Actually, the Snowcat belongs to the Calgary Olympic Development Association (CODA) which operates a summer training facility on the glacier for Canada’s national cross-country ski team.

The athletes stay at a complex of three buildings perched on a rocky ridge at the foot of Mount Jellicoe not far from the toe of the glacier. The buildings are done up in that sixties moon-base look that’s so hot right now:



We stashed our ski gear under Building 3 and hiked a couple kms down the valley to set up at Turbine Canyon backcountry campground. A lone porcupine patrolled the area, looking for stuff (preferably expensive gear) to chew on. There’s something about the porcupine—it's a fascinating beast, but after a while you can’t help thinking: “that thing is just too weird”.

The Smith-Dorrien Glacier was our objective for Day 2. Due to poor weather we decided to leave the skis behind and settled for checking out the route to the glacier for future reference. From the CODA base we were able to easily get around the south ridge of Mount Jellicoe and into the spectacular valley below the glacier. As it turned out, the toe of the glacier was in no shape for skiing and above that was solid klag. Getting up onto the glacier looked like more mountaineering than we were in the mood for, so the lateral moraine was as far as we went:



We talked about how great it must have been when this glacier came all the way down the headwall and into the valley. I figure we missed a lot of excellent skiing by a couple hundred years or so. But back then the only gear available for backcountry was tele—so it wouldn’t have been much fun anyway.

There was enough time on Day 2 for a hike to Maude Lake at North Kananaskis Pass and a closer look at the Beatty Glacier. This is a shot of the glacier with Maude Lake in the foreground:



The map shows that there is much more to the glacier than is visible here. It’s officially on my list of future ski objectives.

The weather on Day 3 improved somewhat, which was good since we wanted to take the scenic route home. Backtracking the Haig via a slightly different line brought us to the foot of the slope below the Robertson-Sir Douglas col. Mercifully, what could have been 500 vertical feet of treadmill scree had a lingering strip of snow. The step kicking was pretty good but the climb to the col was still a real pig.

Looking down at the Roberston Glacier from the col we got an eye-opening indication of how climate change is affecting the ski-mountaineering experience around here. In the good old days, a July trip to the friendly Robertson was like: Rope? We don’t need no stinking rope! But the descent route before us on this day included a couple of large open crevasses and some ominous depressions on the surface which were obviously snow bridges on the verge of collapse. To top it off, after giving us a glimpse of all this, the weather gods decided to throw in some flat light, just for fun.

The plan didn’t include relinquishing turns in favour of skiing down roped up, so when a two star sucker hole came along we pointed them down. Some cautious navigating at the top led to safer terrain and lots of corn snow cruising. Conditions like this allow one to open up and let her rip, even if there’s a 40 lb object strapped to your back for no apparent reason:



A finish like that made the hike out go by pretty quick.


Here are a few more pictures from the trip:

The French Glacier

CODA snowcat and shed on Haig Glacier

Environs of CODA facility

Toe of Haig Glacier with thunderstorm in Upper Kananaskis River valley

Existentialistic sonofabitch

Big valley below Smith-Dorrien Glacier

North Kananaskis Pass looking west

Looking south at Mount Beatty and the Beatty Glacier in clear weather

Heading across Haig Glacier towards Robertson-Sir Douglas col

Mount Maude

Getting closer to Robertson-Sir Douglas col (with mist)

Haig Glacier as seen from Robertson-Sir Douglas col

Cruising on Robertson Glacier

More cruising on Robertson Glacier

A portion of 82 J/11 on desk


Back at home, I reviewed some of the articles and interweeb stuff I’ve saved on climate change (which comes and goes in the press these days). There is little doubt that climate change is happening. Some of the symptoms like milder winters, altered precipitation, and rising treelines will seriously affect mountain recreation. Even more worrisome is the possibility that water supplies will be reduced if glacier-fed rivers no longer have glaciers to feed them.

A major debate centres on whether climate change is a natural phenomenon or a result of the production of greenhouse gases through the use of fossil fuels by humans.

On one side are those who say that people (especially the ones with luxury items—like cars) are the cause of global warming and need to change their consumption habits PDQ in order to stop the meltdown. The other camp claims that any change in climate will happen regardless of human activity, so let’s not sacrifice our quality of life in a misguided attempt to influence what is a natural occurrence or may actually be a hypothetical non-occurrence (if there is such a thing).

At the end of this article are links to a few climate change related websites for anyone interested in wading though some online information. A search would certainly bring up countless other sites.

Personally, I feel conservation and energy efficiency are desirable traits despite any ‘greenhouse gas/global warming’ connection. For example, I like to think that I’m a helluva guy because all my recreational activities are of the self-propelled variety. But, then again, I burn a lot of gas driving back and forth between Calgary and the mountains to pursue those activities.

I’d really like to pitch in by taking all of my gear and going to live in a lean-to out in the bush—but my wife won’t let me.

Tim


Government of Canada Climate Change Site

Climate Change Solutions (Pembina Institute)

Three Views on Global Warming (National Public Radio – USA)

Office of Energy Efficiency – Natural Resources Canada

Still Waiting for Greenhouse – A Lukewarm View of Global Warming

What’s Up With The Weather? (PBS interview with Dr. S. Fred Singer)

The Rocky Mountain Repeat Photography Project


Other articles by Tim Bester on Biglines.com:

Parks Canada's Backcountry Avalanche Risk Review—Cool Heads Prevail

The Highwood Pass Tradition

Observations from the CAA 2003 Backcountry Avalanche Workshop

Post-Apocalyptic Powder Pigs

A Photo Report From Mount Joffre

Beating the Rush to Rae