It didn’t click for the longest time, but what a nice surprise
Extreme Warning! The activities described here are mountaineering, and thus inherently risky. Although the hazards can be managed through training, experience, and research, they cannot be eliminated entirely. DO NOT attempt this unless you have adequate training and at least a minimum of 2-3 years of scrambling/mountaineering experience! Even so, you might *still* end up needing rescue!
Well folks, this trip was an absolute doozy! I have been solo hiking/backpacking for 15+ years and have been mountaineering for over 10 years. During that time, I’ve gotten off-route/off-trail, been benighted, suffered hypothermia & frostbite, and even once hiked down on an ankle fracture; all without calling SAR.
That all changed yesterday! This trip was my first ever SAR call, and even though I felt guilty at first, I don't regret it. I'm incredibly thankful for the kindness and professionalism of SAR crews like Whistler SAR. If you have a few extra bucks, please donate to Whistler SAR society or North Shore SAR.
whistlersar.com
I aimed to leave my car around midnight and hike up to Wedgemount Lake in the dark. From there, I would traverse from the trail to the lake outflow and cross the creek, before continuing along the south side of the lake.
As a solo climber, I planned to traverse up the “Scrambles in SWBC" route to Parkhurst-Rethel Col, then skirt around the south side of Parkhurst Mtn to get to Wedge-Parkhurst Col in lieu of crossing the glacier in a rope team. From WP col, I would climb the NW Couloir of Wedge Mountain to reach the summit. That was the plan anyways!
I left my car at midnight and took a cable crossing to the north side of Wedgemount Creek and the Wedgemount Lake Trail. The cable crossing took about 20 extra minutes, but it already placed me behind schedule.
I navigated the trail in the dark. As an experienced night-hiker this wasn't too bad for me. The trail was fairly well-marked and easy enough to follow until the upper boulder crossing below the lake. This would probably still be challenging for the typical hiker in the dark!
The upper boulders had a few challenging sections where the trail forked in different directions and an occasional move that required the use of my hands. Scattered snow fields began at 1850m, but would be easy enough to scramble around if preferred.
I left the trail just below the small cliffs at 1900m to traverse to the lake outflow. I started by attempting to cross the snow fields, but quickly realized that these were almost melted out and riddled with post-holing.
I stuck to the rocks as much as possible. Navigating this section in the dark was a challenge, even for me! There were occasional use-trails, which helped with route-finding, but they weren't easy to follow in the dark, even with the headlamp on max.
I eventually managed to get to the lake outflow by 3am, a full hour behind my planned schedule. The rock crossing here was shallow, but still deep enough to get my boots wet below the ankles. I stopped to refill my water, have some snacks, and don my crampons and ice axe.
The traverse along the south lake-shore was riddled with unpredictable snow. Despite freeze-thaw conditions, the snow varied from under-melted post-holing to soft boot-depth penetration to thick crust (likely in sections of snow/rock slides). Every step was like rolling the dice and I had to double check my bootpack before weighting each step.
I rounded the south side of the small lake in the dull beginnings of firstlight. I was now a full 90 minutes behind schedule and route-finding the way to the col was *tricky* with sections of exposed rock choss & scree to navigate around and sometimes across. The rocky bits were loose and sketchy, eating up even more of my energy.
At 2150m, I could finally see the full route up to the col via snow. Terrifying, half-melted widowmaker cornices overhung the route. I paused. I traversed around a bit to see if I could find a better route. There wasn't one. I was gassed, behind schedule in poor conditions, and with objective overhead hazards EVERYWHERE.
I spent a few minutes trying to figure out what to do here, even pulling up pictures I had taken on my phone from lower down, before I realized the foolishness of lingering so long below unstable cornice. I decided to bail by backtracking my route up, definitely a good call to avoid getting cliffed out.
The snow shelves between rock cliffs were rather nasty because it wasn't crusty enough to self-arrest with my ice axe. A slide here would result in a nasty cliff fall!
At one section just before a scree island, my steps blew out and sent me sliding onto the scree. I quickly turned from face-out to face-in and dug my ice axe and crampons into the rocks. Miraculously, I caught myself within a meter or so!
I downclimbed the scree & choss face-in before reaching snow again. The word *sketchy* doesn't even do justice to this absolutely horrendous route. My left knee now began to hurt, probably from my short slide or possibly one of my post-holes.
I pulled out my phone, turned off airplane mode, and checked for signal. One bar of LTE!! I sent a message to my partner to let them know I bailed and that my knee was injured. That's when I began to contemplate calling SAR…
I decided to make for the cliffs on the north side of the little lake, because these would be free of overhead hazard and offered suitable heli landing sites nearby. My knee began to throb a bit. At the cliffs, I checked for service and still had it!
I called my Dad, a doctor, to get his advice at 6am. While on the phone with him, the overhanging cornice above fell! I heard the *crack, crack* of falling rock, snow, and ice and looked up to see a cascading waterfall of debris crashing down the mountain. It was exactly where I had been standing indecisively 30 minutes earlier!! Yikes!!
My Dad told me to play it safe and initiate the SAR call, likely in part due to my “holy shit. Holy shit!" response to the cornice fall. With my knee in rough shape, the nasty overhead hazard along the traverse to the lake outflow, the tricky bushwhack to the trail, and then the boulder section of the Wedgemount Trail to navigate, I was genuinely worried about my ability to self-extract safely.
I was concerned that my slow pace would unduly expose me to way more overhead hazard, or that my cautious imbalance might cause me to go ass-over-teakettle on the boulders, all in sections without any cell service since I don't have sat-comms.
So I called 911, they transferred me to RCMP, then to BC Ambulance Service. I gave them my GPS coordinates and the coordinates of a suitable heli landing site. My phone call cut out after about 9 minutes. My service didn't return. I put my phone into airplane mode for 5 seconds, then back into service mode. It worked, service again!
So I called back to 911. Meanwhile a member of Whistler SAR tried to reach me but couldn't get through. He texted me. I called him back when my service returned. Phone battery was now at 66%, with a full power-bank in reserve.
They told me to stay put and wait. I donned my extra layers, ate some snacks, and made myself some instant coffee while I “enjoyed” the sunrise over Wedgemount Lake. Every 20 minutes or so, I heard the small *crack, crack* of small rocks tumbling down from Mt Rethel. I wrapped my legs in my small tarp to stay warm in the sunrise shadow of Mt Weart. It was probably about 2°C.
A heli was dispatched, and my SAR contact let me know the plan for heli evac with an ETA of 8:15-8:30am. The sun came around Mt Weart and bathed me in its warmth. Ah, sun!! I wedged my trekking pole into the rocks and placed my tent footprint on it to create an impromptu windsock and signal flag.
Next thing I know, a black Blackcomb Heli rises from the lake outflow and heads my way. I place both hands above my head in a Y shape to indicate “Yes" I need rescue. The pilot sees me, swoops around, then lands on a flat section of snow nearby that was free of overhead hazard. I gathered my things while the SAR techs unloaded and headed over.
One of the SAR techs introduced himself to me, then offered me a shoulder to lean on while we scrambled across the rocks. I limped my way over to a snow ramp. They gave me my ice axe then used my own rope to tie a bowline around my waist (I offered to don my harness, but they didn’t feel it was necessary) while I descended the short snow ramp in a seated glissade. Helicopter at last!
They gave me a brief safety run-down on operating the heli doors and using the headphone/microphone. One of the SAR techs had heard I was trying to climb the NW Couloir of Wedge Mountain and requested the pilot do a flyover!! These guys are f-ing amazing!! <3
I landed in Whistler with an ambulance already waiting to take me to Whistler clinic. I’ve never been happier to sit in an ER bed! Some x-rays and some Advil & Tylenol later, I got my official diagnosis of knee sprain injury. The doc thinks I aggravated the patellar cartilage in my short little slide. Should heal up fairly quickly, all things considered…
I have all the requisite training, experience, and gear to attempt what I did. It was perhaps an ambitious goal, especially C2C and solo, but it was still doable under the right conditions.
I consulted guidebooks (Scrambles in SWBC & Alpine Select), researched trip reports, checked AllTrails, and even posted a conditions question in this sub beforehand to prepare in advance.
I checked the weather *repeatedly* to make certain it would be bluebird, using sources like Mountain Forecast, SpotWx, Avalanche Canada’s Meteograms, and NOAA’s HRRR model.
I mapped out my route in advance on my mapping app of choice, Gaia GPS. I used Gaia’s FreshSat - Cloud Free layer to get an idea of snow levels and seasonal melt. I downloaded offline layers like Gaia Topo, Satellite, Satellite Topo, and slope angle overlay. I even used Copernicus satellites to get an even more recent view of the snow in that area. I downloaded the publicly available GPX tracks from the web too.
I used screenshots, night photography on my phone, and downloaded photos from AllTrails to give me extra in-the-moment decision-making power when on the side of the mountain.
All of that, and it still wasn't enough! When reality doesn't align with expectations, it's important to bail. Had I pressed on, I would have definitely been swept off the mountain by cornice fall and would most certainly be dead or gravely injured.
Experience is about applying your knowledge to the present to foresee hazards before and/or during exposure to them. My experience told me that those cornices were unstable, and my instincts told me to turn around. That was a really, really good call!
Even so, I had more hazard exposure than I would have liked and more risk than my risk tolerance allows. In particular, the choice to go solo was IMHO the wrong one. Without a partner or partners to assist, I was truly one minor knee injury away from a SAR call and rescue! I will be reconsidering my solo adventure risk tolerance going forwards.
After initiating the SAR call, I did several things right. I stayed put! I hydrated, ate some food (of which I had 1-2 days worth remaining), and put on my extra layers to stay warm. I scoped out a safe landing spot for the heli, got myself to that location, and relayed the coordinates. I had ample phone battery remaining and a full power bank. I signaled the heli using hand signals and gave them a windsock for landing. I even had an emergency blanket and painkillers in reserve in case of further delays!
Even if I hadn't gotten lucky with cell service, I had a backstop in place. My partner knew my plans and to initiate a rescue without delay if they didn't hear from me by 3pm. They had screenshots of my route and photos of me, my gear, and my vehicle to assist SAR with locating and identifying me. SatComms and mobile phones are a really nice fallback, but that's only one *part* of an entire *system* that every adventurer needs to have in place!
If you’ve made it this far, I hope you’ve learned from my mistake(s) and have a better idea of what you would do in this situation. Climbing mountains is risky and luck can only carry you so far. Have fun, be safe, and *make good choices!*
OP’s Note:
I know it seems, based on my TR history, that I only have adventures that go sideways. This is an intentional choice, because I *only* post TR’s that highlight objective/subjective hazards, poor conditions, and warning signs.
There's plenty of other adventurers who exclusively post their mesmerizing bluebird summit photos to social media. When people see this, they are often drawn to attempt things well beyond their capability or skill level, leading to sometimes catastrophic results.
My SAR contact told me about rescues of people in flip flops and shorts that attempted to climb Mt Weart late in the day after seeing photos on social media. They had no idea what they were getting into!
So yeah, sorry no smiling photos on top of bluebird summits. Instead, you get the real, the gritty, and the sketchy. I'm trying to tip the social media balance just a little bit more in the direction of safety. Not to mention, who *actually* wants to see my smiling face in a selfie lol?!
P.S. Shame me in the comments if you like, but initiating SAR was the right call. I felt incredibly guilty in the moment for calling them over a minor knee injury, but it was actually about a lot more than that. The SAR techs and even the BCAS paramedic told me that getting rescued was in fact the best decision for my circumstances.
whistlersar.com
gaiagps.com
alltrails.com
mountain-forecast.com
spotwx.com
meteograms.avalanche.ca
weather.gov
copernicus.eu
bcsara.com/no-charge-for-sar/