The older I get
The more I think
You only get a
minute, better live it while your in it
‘Cause it’s
gone in a blink.
The Older I Get.
Alan Jackson
The
elevation gain from Bogong Creek to Big Creamy Flats is only 500
metres, while topping out on Mount Namadgi adds just 300 metres more
elevation, but walking up Middle Creek felt so painfully,
paralysingly, desperately slow. Sure, there was the bushwacking,
which was very thick at times, and the deep boggy grass, and we were
carrying overnight packs, but are those factors enough to explain
just how slow I felt walking up the drainange, like moving through
rapidly setting cement or treacle in a freezer?
North Ridge Mount Namadgi
I took an old trekking pole I found somewhere (on a bushwalk long
ago, I think), and was glad of it. Even with the pole, I had one of
those spectacular falls where you tumble right over, my arms pinned
back under my pack and it took me a while to disentangle all my limbs
and stand back up. The pole was helpful because there are so many
obstacles buried under the bush – stumps, boulders, logs, deep
holes, wombat tunnels – and my proprioceptive ability has declined with age despite the fact that I practice
walking on uneven ground virtually every day. But I no longer have
the quick reflexes of youth when I could walk for hours through the
wilderness of Canada, happily balancing along vertiginous ledges
completely at ease.
Stone Arrangement Mount Namadgi
For some reason, as we traveled up and down Middle Creek I was
thinking about a trip I did in 2009 which I led for the Kootenay Mountaineering Club (KMC). Five of us climbed Kane Peak, deep in
Kokanee Glacier Provincial Park. The total elevation gain for the
trip was somewhere between 2200 metres and 2400 metres and I carried
the communal glacier rope (which we did not employ) the entire
weekend. On the way to the Keyhole, a high mountain col which gives
access to Kokanee Glacier, Coffee Pass and Kane Peak, one of the
party got heat exhaustion so while he went on ahead to rest and
rehydrate at the Keyhole I carried his pack the final 150 metres
(elevation gain) up to the col then bounded back down again to carry
my pack up. When we got to camp near Coffee Pass, I left the rest of
the group resting at camp and took off to scope the route for the
next day. I remember feeling positively super human because I was no
longer carrying a mountaineering pack with helmet, rope, crampons,
ice axe, etc. etc., and my energy seemed undiminished by the days
activities. How is it possible that I am the same person?
West Ridge Kane Peak
Before We Go is a compilation of Dan John’s earlier essays
published in one volume. I’m reading it now and it is probably one
of my favorite Dan John books. A summation of the book would include
the words reasonableness and standards.
Both concepts which society has abandoned in favor of the latest
fitness craze (pole dancing anyone?) and narcissistic individualism.
Dan John, however is still putting up big numbers in the gym as he
enters his sixth decade and rightly recognises that a healthy
lifespan is predicated on muscle mass and strength. Only good things
come from being able to pull weight off the floor and press it
overhead.
Climbing the North Ridge of Nifleheim
I am not the person I was 15 years ago. The one who moved
effortlessly like a sure footed goat across the mountains, but if I
did not pursue reasonableness and standards I know I would be
significantly worse off.
From the KMC Newsletter:
Kane Peak is an attractive rocky peak that anchors the south end
of Sawtooth Ridge and commands your attention from various view
points in Kokanee Glacier Provincial Park. It's also a peak I've
wanted to climb for a long time. Access is some what longer and more
difficult now that Keen Creek Forest Service Road is closed, but you
can still get to Kane Peak via either a bushwhack from the Woodbury
drainage or by descending Kokanee Glacier from the Keyhole.
Kane Peak
Despite my misgivings about having to hump an overnight pack up to
the Keyhole in summer when all the choss and rubble is exposed, it
seemed a preferable route to bushwhacking in via Woodbury, after all,
there would be no actual bushwhacking. Actually, I'd never been to
the Keyhole before, except in winter skiing over from the Kaslo
Hilton, which really doesn't count because it is so easy.
Looking Down The Keyhole
With all the plans in place, five of us met at Gibson Lake parking
lot at 8 am on Saturday, August 29. We were equipped with standard
glacier travel and overnight gear. It's a long haul up to the
Keyhole, over 1100 metres, so our idea was to go at a steady, but not
break-neck pace. The first part on the trail was quite reasonable,
but after the official "end of trail" sign - so ominous -
the trail deteriorated into a scratched out path disappearing here
and there into the boulders. The final climb to the Keyhole is very
loose, and despite the presence of a couple of boot-beaten paths, one
on each side of the final ascent gully, avoiding the paths and just
stepping up boulders and talus provides firmer footing. We had a couple of short water breaks on the way to the Keyhole, but once at the Keyhole we had a deliciously decadent break with a cup of tea brewed over Ken's compact stove.
From the Keyhole, we could look down Kokanee Glacier to Coffee Pass and I was astonished to see that not only was the glacier almost completely bare of snow, but heavily crevassed as well. Of course, glaciers in the Selkirks are rapidly shrinking and Kokanee Glacier is clearly no exception. We put crampons and harnesses on, but had no need to rope up as we were able to descend all the way to toe of glacier down near Coffee Pass on bare ice. We took an end run around a few crevasses, but overall travel was considerably easier than if the glacier had been snow-covered with suspect bridges that would have required much careful travel.
Late summer, Kokanee Glacier From Kane Peak
From the Keyhole, we could look down Kokanee Glacier to Coffee
Pass and I was astonished to see that not only was the glacier almost
completely bare of snow, but heavily crevassed as well. Of course,
glaciers in the Selkirks are rapidly shrinking and Kokanee Glacier is
clearly no exception. We put crampons and harnesses on, but had no
need to rope up as we were able to descend all the way to toe of
glacier down near Coffee Pass on bare ice. We took an end run around
a few crevasses, but overall travel was considerably easier than if
the glacier had been snow-covered with suspect bridges that would
have required much careful travel.
Descending Kokanee Glacier
Nearing the toe of the glacier, a herd of mountain goats, on rocky
terrain (old moraine) between the toe of the glacier and Coffee Pass
scattered at our approach. Bert, who had climbed Kane Peak back in
1970 - yes, that is 39 years ago - recalled a goat nursery in the
same location. Undisturbed by humans, this area has clearly been
favoured by goats for a long time.
Old School Weather Forecast From Radio
We debated traversing east to Coffee Pass over loose terrain to
find a campsite, but, in the end, we thought that there may be no
water available there and we found ourselves small, goat-like ledges
on the old moraine to camp, with water provided by the copious
ongoing glacial melt. Vicki and I shared a tent, and a comfortable
tent platform, tucked nicely out of the catabatic winds that streamed
down the glacier with Dave, who had his own small tent, while Bert
and Ken, the two hardy mountaineers slept in a bivouac bag and under
a silt-tarps respectively.
Southeast Face and Ridge, Kane Peak
That afternoon, after fortifying myself with another cup of tea, I
scrambled east over loose terrain under a couple of rock slabs to
gain the old moraine that lies above Coffee Pass. As is typical of
old moraines, this one is steep and loose, particularly on the south
side, but a short descent down the north side, puts you easily into
Coffee Pass. A small tarn, with no visible inlet or outlet lies
slightly north and down from Coffee Pass and would provide water for
a campsite.
Southeast Face Kane Peak and Ascent Route
Kane Peak has a long south ridge that curls right around back to
the north, and encloses a rocky basin, once glaciated, but now full
of rubble and with only small patches of steep bare glacial ice
clinging to the highest ridge lines. From Coffee Pass, I climbed
slightly, heading northeast. and gained this ridge-line somewhere
between 7,500 and 8,000 feet. From here, there are two obvious
routes up Kane Peak to the standard southeast face route, one is to
drop 60 to 80 vertical metres down into the rubble filled valley and
toil up loose slopes until you can gain the col on the south ridge of
Kane Peak; the other is to hold your elevation and traverse around
the basin using ledges and benches and to reach the upper basin and
then continue up to the col. Which you choose, is probably a matter
of picking your poison. Next day we took the traverse route which
had a couple of sections of loose rock in gullies, but was
technically easy and reasonably fast.
Grays Peak from Kane Peak
Back at camp, we all had dinner and pretty much everyone was in
bed by soon after 7.00 pm. Dave and Vicki gave me grief for daring
to use my headlamp to read my book until 9.00 pm, when I turned it
out, not because I was tired, but because the loud sighs emanating
from Vicki's side of the tent were intruding onto my quiet reading
time!
Next morning we got up in the dark at 5.00 am and left camp at
about 6.15 am, retracing my steps of the previous evening and quickly
gaining the ridge. Not everyone was totally happy with my choice of
route, but, in the end, we all headed off together and found the
route quite reasonable with no more loose rock than is encountered on
any average scramble in the Kokanee Range. Once we'd traversed into
the basin the easy talus slope leading to the col was visible and
with a minimum of fuss we were all at the col.
Vicki and I on the Kokanee Glacier
From the col, the small glacier on the east side of Kane Peak
looks quite shrunken and almost totally bare of snow. A couple of
large gendarmes lie along the ridge between the col and the peak of
Kane, most of us descended a short distance - perhaps 30 metres - and
cramponed across bare glacial ice to the base of the southeast slopes
of Kane Peak, but Bert, quickly nipped across snow and rock ledges
just below the gendarmes and arrived at the base of the main peak
before the rest of us.
The final scramble to the summit is easy - class two or three - but care
must be taken for loose rock as there are some large blocks lying
about poised to tumble down with the slightest touch. There are
actually two little summits - one more northerly than the other. We
figure the most southerly is the highest (it also appears that way on
1:20,000 BC Basemap), but most of us touched both summits just in
case.
Obligatory Poseur Summit Shot
After snacks, photos, and signing the summit register (placed by
LC in June 2009), we returned the way we had come and were back at
camp in time for lunch and a cup of tea. I used the last drops of
white gas in my stove making Vicki and I a cup of tea. An event I
thought bespoke excellent planning but the old mountaineers asked
"What would I do in an emergency?" Luckily, my body fat
stores are sufficient to see me through any such condition, at least
for a short time.
I certainly wasn't enthused about shouldering my pack and plodding
back up the glacier, particularly in the heat of the day, but there
is no other way to get home. In the end, cramponing up from Coffee
Pass to the Keyhole is infinitely easier than grovelling up the loose
choss from Gibson Lake. Bert headed off first and set an excellent
route back up to the Keyhole, all on bare ice and with not a single
crevasse to be crossed. We had another snack at the Keyhole and changed into shorts and
tee-shirts for the baking hot descent on the other side, and then
slowly, with some painful knees made our way back to the trailhead.
