I'm trying to figure out if I'm sandbagging. How would you rate the diagonal corner crack on this quartzite slab? If you say class 5, what decimal would you give it? Thanks!

ETA: Wow, this provided even less clarity. Some of the ways y'all determine grades are wildly unhinged and I'm now convinced that nobody actually knows what 4th class actually is. Even so, I'll stick to my original determination that this is 4th class :D

Spent the night at Tricouni Berg Lake over the weekend before doing an alpine climb up Tricouni Peak. The sunrise over the reflective blue lake with Cloudburst Mountain in the background was absolutely incredible! Couldn't ask for a better spot to sip my morning coffee.

WARNING: Alpine climbing and scrambling are inherently dangerous activities! Hazards include rockfall, YGD-level exposure, alpine weather, gear failure, choosing the wrong line, snow travel, and more.

You should have at least six climbs worth of mountaineering, alpine climbing, or class 4 scrambling experience before attempting this route. Helmets, ice axes, leather gloves, and emergency bivy gear are MANDATORY!

Other gear like rope, harnesses, belay devices, trad gear, and slings/cord are optional but highly recommended. We climbed past the site of a cliffside rescue where two climbers had to be airlifted off the mountain after a rappelling accident earlier this year.

The Route Plan:

We chose to follow the route described in Alpine Select by Kevin McLane for the S Ridge/S Col from Berg Lake (route 3). He describes this route as “low-5th" which usually means 4th class, but we failed to notice that the S Col route from Pendant Lake is described as "mid-5th” which usually means low-5th under his arbitrary (over-)grading system. (It was definitely low-5th between the Col and the Summit)

We also downloaded Steven Song's GPX track from his trip report in 2019 to have available off-line, even though we didn't plan to use it. Song confessed to having done “zero homework" and taking "a side-hilling traverse with a lot of scrambling on unstable talus” for his climb from Berg to the Ridge, which sounded unpleasant for him and downright dangerous for anyone else.

The Trip:

Day 1 (2026/08/15) - We hiked up to Berg Lake on Saturday from Chance FSR to spend the night. The road in was fine until we got just below C-1100 and it became too overgrown for my friend’s crossover, so we hiked the rest of the way up the road from there.

The hike in was lovely, despite the added weight of overnight gear, a bear can, and our technical gear. Views from the lake were splendid! We camped along the north end of the lake to be in better position for the following day’s ascent.

While eating dinner just before sunset, we noticed a party of 2 (red jacket & blue jacket) without ice axes or helmets having extreme difficulty navigating a moat and then descending the Steven Song route towards the Berg Lake outflow. We were worried we were going to have to call SAR, but after 1.5 hours they eventually reached the outflow and we breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why would anyone take the Steven Song route?!" became a constant refrain and inside joke between us for the remainder of the trip, lol.

Day 2 (2026/08/16) - Ascent - We awoke early, had breakfast, then departed camp at 0700. We climbed through alpine heather and use trails to the top of the bluff before encountering a large terminal moraine from an extinct glacier.

We rock hopped across large boulders to the turnoff for our route along a wide chossy bench with a snowfield. Above the snowfield, we consulted Alpine Select before choosing a gentle gully between two small cliff bands to ascend to the ramp.

To climber's right of the Cirque we discovered a beautiful, hidden class 3 ramp between class 5 walls that led us up to the the ridge. From the top of the ridge, we followed the ridgeline up until just below the large gendarme.

There we routed west (climber's left) along steep benches and slabs to get to the talus field below the col. We scrambled up the talus to get to the notch-like col, where we spotted an emergency bivy bag on the other side from the rescue earlier in the year.

Above the notch is the crux of the S Col route, which required some seriously exposed low-5th moves to get up the first bench. We spotted and cleaned some rappel tat here and discussed turning around. We chose to keep going up, but to descend via the SW Face instead of down-climbing this technical section.

There's a fin of rock above the crux that we initially climbed to the right only to discover another mid-5th gendarme blocking our way. We descended and skirted around the fin to the left and found a nice chimney just behind the gendarme.

After negotiating this exposed section with a cliff below, we were able to follow the ridgeline the rest of the way to the intersection with the SW Face route. From there, it was a fairly easy scramble up to the true summit. What an amazing view!

Descent - We followed use trails and talus fields down the SW Face until we got to 1950m MSL. There we began cutting skier’s left across slabby benches towards the S Ridge. We crossed a few talus fields and skirted through the upper moat of a snowfield, using our ice axes for handholds (mixed climbing? Lol).

Beyond the moat, we chose a broken section between slabs to ascend to the ridgeline. The last section got steep and crimpy, so I topped out and threw my sling around a solid rock horn before tossing a handline down to my partner. It gave her just enough confidence to top out on the ridge.

From there, we easily followed our original ascent route down the “Thank God for Kevin McLane" ramp and back to the lake. I had some fun boot skiing (standing glissading) down the snow field on the wide bench before my feet slid out from under me and I got to practice my ice axe self-arrest skills.

Summary:

All-in-all, a very good day and an amazing trip :) 10/10 would do this route again, only with a half-rope and some trad gear for added safety. Next year we’ll try the N Ridge and probably take the S Col route down to Berg.

Have fun, stay safe, and make good choices!

Oh, and why would anyone take the Steven Song route?!?!

Resources:

Our GPX route from Berg Lake

Alpine Select by Kevin McLane (2023), Pages 318-323 “Tricouni"

Scrambles in SWBC by Matt Gunn (2005), Pages 56-57 "Tricouni Peak”

“Tricouni Peak” (2019), Trip Report by Steven Song where he did “zero homework"

Armchair Traverse Trip Report 7/21-22

**WARNING: This traverse goes well beyond hiking and is considered an exposed scramble. While most would rate this as BC Class 4, meaning hands required for balance and the kind of exposure where falling means certain death, I actually agree with McLane’s rating in *Alpine Select* (for once) in categorizing this as “low-5th” because some moves require hands for upward/downward progress as well as the body mechanics of 5th class climbing (feel free to disagree)**

**Scrambling is inherently dangerous. Risks include rockfall, loose hand/footholds, YGD-level exposure, mountain weather, altitude, and extreme fatigue. This traverse killed experienced Squamish climber Dave Tan in 2024. Two experienced scramblers also needed a long-line rescue by Whistler SAR in 2021 after weather moved in and they got off-route**

**Helmets and gloves are mandatory equipment. It is recommended that you have familiarity with 5th class climbing prior to attempting this route. If you will be crossing snow (optional in current conditions), an ice axe and self-arrest skills are also required**

Now that we’ve gotten the safety talk out of the way, I climbed Mts Cook (2676m) and Weart (2835m) and completed the Armchair Traverse in the following two days after climbing Sky Pilot. In the span of 3 days, I ascended 3590m vertical, much of which was class 3 and class 4! Three days, three peaks, and one helluva traverse :)

Also, one could say that I have unfinished business with this part of Garibaldi Park. So I was rather nervous to do such a challenging objective up here again. Fortunately, I didn't need SAR this time!

Climbing Mt Cook

I left my car rather late (for me) at around 0830 on Tuesday 7/21 and began my way up the Wedgemount Trail towards the lake in the mildly smoky air. The trail is steep, rocky, and has lots of roots below treeline, and the boulder section at treeline was dusty, loose, and slick.

I took a break around 1130 at the Wedgemount Lake Emergency Shelter to eat some food, but was quickly swarmed by black flies and had to don my bug net to escape them.

I began making my way up the route to Mt. Cook, which was relatively easy to find with the help of a map and GPS. This is when the 3rd class scrambling began and I had to start using my hands at times. The rock here is chossy and loose. Careful foot placement is imperative!

There's a wide shelf around 2150m that still holds a snow field, so I took a longer break here to melt some snow, drink some coffee, and eat my heavier food items. By 1415, the snow was soft enough to boot-pack but I donned my UL ice axe in case of a slip.

At 2300m, the route veers up a nasty and loose chossy boulder field to get up to the ridgeline proper. The choss continued all the way to the summit from here and was my least favorite part of the whole climb up, as it was quite unpleasant.

I had planned to bivy around The Owls spur ridge further along, as that's where my wilderness permit was for. However, I was quite tired by the summit of Mt Cook and it was already 1600, so I didn't feel it was safe to continue further.

I found a nice bivy ledge just off the north end of the summit and setup my sleeping pad and 0° quilt. I found someone's poop fertilizing the lichens nearby, likely from a year or two ago (gross!). I'm glad I brought a WAG Bag so I could leave no trace!

I took a nap in my bug net before waking up for one of the most incredible sunsets of my entire life! Definitely in the top 10 and I’ve seen quite a few! The nearby Twin Two Creek fire was putting smoke into the air and created a pyrocumulus cloud. Then bed time!

I awoke to surprisingly bright firstlight around 0315 to the north and almost thought it was aurora at first. I melted snow from a nearby snowbank (frozen crusty solid) for water and coffee while I watched the early dawn progressively light up the sky.

The Amazing Armchair Traverse

I proceeded to pack up my bivy around 0600 and started along the traverse at 0645. The first section is mostly class 3, with a few sections of class 4. Much of the rock slab here has loose chunks, so I had to constantly check whether it would hold before putting my weight onto it.

I downclimbed the first crux notch around 0730 in my mountaineering boots and found it relatively easy. From here, the traverse climbs up to the ridge that connects to Mt Moe. Still mostly 3rd & 4th class, but there was occasionally an optional move I’d rate as low-5th.

The views across the Armchair Glacier and the unnamed glacier to the north were phenomenal! There were numerous open bergschrunds and crevasses to be seen, with occasional bare ice below the firn line. Glacier travel season is definitely drawing to a close for the year. Sigh…

At the spur ridge for The Owls, there was a surprising amount of snow remaining. I had contemplated an optional trip to The Owls, but now on day 3 of scrambling I didn’t really feel the need. Another time, I suppose. I still took a break here to enjoy the scenery and melt some snow.

Now for the crux! The “sidewalk in the sky” section with a knife-edge on either side and a few gendarmes and a chimney-notch. At one of the gendarmes I made a route-finding error and went skiers right (red line) instead of skiers left (green line).

I found myself traversing an overhanging nose wearing my boots and a pack. The leanback had me sweating a little bit, as I definitely realized I’d veered into mid-5th without a rope. It reminded me a little of a nose volume I’d struggled with at the gym on a 5.10c, just with bigger (and looser!) hand and footholds. Oops!

From here, just a little more 3rd & 4th to get to the top of Mt Weart. I’ve never smiled as big as I smiled in my selfie at the top. I did it! 3 days, 3 summits, one helluva traverse! Now for the way down… As Ed Veisturs says, “Getting to the top is optional. Getting down is mandatory.”

Descending Weart

The choss gulley down from the summit of Weart is terrible. I did my best not to dislodge rocks down below, but it was often unavoidable. I yelled “rock!” each time, just in case someone was ascending below. Fortunately I had it all to myself.

The route exits the gulley onto an equally loose and chossy ridge. This wasn’t any better than the route up to Cook, as nasty loose boulders and choss meant having to carefully place each step. Only this time with more fatigue!

I barely remember the way down to the col above the upper lake. I just remember it really sucked! I took a break at the col, but was out of water so I eventually pressed on to the lake. There wasn’t a clearly defined route down, so I found myself just sort of winging it and hoping for the best. I made my way across some sloping slabs without many footholds before finding the snow.

God I love snow! God I hate rock! I boot packed down to the lake to retrieve some water and guzzled down some of the fresh slushy snowmelt without even filtering it (probably not the best idea, but I got lucky this time). It’s got to get easier after this, right?

Nope. More choss, more boulders, more slabs. Middle lake now. One small godsend of a snow slope felt like a small slice of heaven. Ice axe in hand, I traversed across it staying high in case of a slip. Crap, I slipped!

I drove my pick hard into the snow and got my shoulder over it almost immediately, driving all my weight onto it. I stopped quick! Probably my best self-arrest I’ve ever done, and I’ve done many. Thank god!

Does it get easier? No. No it does not. Loose fresh rockslides to traverse between the middle lake and Tupper Lake. Crap! Slippery. Nasty. Godawful. Every step is a gamble. Too big to scree ski. Too loose to trust my feet…

Tupper Lake feels like the home stretch! Almost back to the trail! Gorgeous views of glaciers, but I’m too tired to care. The temp feels like 30 and I’m baking in the alpine sun despite copious sunblock on my face. The black flies, too, have returned with a vengeance and they’re out for blood.

Some tourists ask me if I went to the glacier. I tell them “no, I didn’t go to Wedgemount Glacier”, but I show them the mountaineer’s approach route. They don’t believe me. Oh well…

Trail at last. Finally it gets easier, right? Around the lake the trail feels like a highway to the emergency shelter. I’m zooming along! Past the shelter comes the boulder field. This sucked! It’s so dusty and well-traveled that I’m constantly worried about slipping. My aching muscles take forever to lower me from rock to rock.

It. Never. Ends. Rocks and roots and a steep trail down. I thought I had a good idea of this trail from going up it back in June, but I realize now that I never actually went back down. I have a newfound appreciation for calling SAR back then. My knee would never have made it down this, and I’m eternally thankful that it’s holding up well this time.

My feet ache and I’m drenched in sweat. I see what feels like hundreds of hikers and tourists before coming across two people with helmets strapped to their packs. “Doing the traverse?” I ask. They say yes and ask me how it was. "It was fun, definitely challenging" I say. I share some more beta before moving on.

The trail down takes forever. I’m slow, tired, and sweaty, but somehow I make it back to my car. I call out of work for the following day before driving home. I stop at a drive-thru and eat as many calories as I can (a drop in the bucket compared to how many I burned) before driving home. By the time I arrive home, my eyes are drooping and I practically fall into bed. I literally slept for 12 hours.

**This was one for the memory book. Three days, three peaks, and one helluva traverse :)**

As always, have fun, stay safe, and make good choices!

(Edited to fix broken link formatting)

Would you spend the night at 2700m on a narrow ledge on a cliff side just to see sunset and sunrise across glaciers, rock pillars, aretes, and lakes?

**WARNING: Alpine ledge bivies are inherently risky. Risks include weather systems, ledge failure, falls, rockfall, and more. Bivying on a ledge should only be undertaken by those with an understanding of the risks, experience in bivy camping, and training in mountaineering and/or scrambling and/or climbing. Oh, and bring a WAG Bag!!**

Spent Tuesday July 21st at a ledge bivouac on Mt Cook at 2700m. It's probably the most beautiful view I've ever had from a campsite, and I've had many, many beautiful campsites!

Saw the pyrocumulus cloud from the Twin Two Creek fire along Lillooet Lake. It forms when convective currents from wildfire heat drive smoke into higher levels of the atmosphere where water can condense onto it. It's incredible how wildfires can literally *seed* their own clouds!

Stay tuned for my Armchair Traverse scramble trip report :) Have fun, stay safe, and make good choices!

WARNING! Scrambling and rappelling are serious mountain activities that should only be undertaken by those with adequate experience, training and/or under the supervision of a guide/instructor/expert. We encountered [this group](https://www.facebook.com/share/18zU2huyqL/) on the way down that later had to be rescued by Squamish SAR due to a serious injury (more about this later).

My mountaineering partner and I left Shannon Creek FSR at 2:30am to climb Sky Pilot outside Squamish. We wanted to reach the alpine around sunrise while the snow was still hard, free solo the 3rd/4th class route to the top, rappel down, and then descend once it was soft.

We were each equipped with a helmet, boots, an ice axe, aluminum crampons, glacier harness, a few slings, personal tether, ATC, and a 60m half-rope each (in retrospect, one 40-60m would have been sufficient). Much of our technical gear was for the optional rappels, but we felt it could also be useful in the event of a self-rescue or if we desired protection.

We also carried our usual hiking gear and the 10 essentials, which made for quite a heavy pack (11kg without water weight). But we both share the philosophy that it's better to have and not need than to need and not have, which was definitely a good call.

We made it above treeline right as the sun began to rise over Mt Habrich, backlighting its grey granite tower in smoky red hues. The splitter cracks on its southern face look tantalizing to the budding climber in me. Someday…

Once we got to the snow, it was slightly soft but well consolidated, so we donned our crampons. Even though microspikes would probably have been sufficient, we didn't regret the crampons. Our ice axes were definitely a must to prevent an uncontrolled slide.

We had heard beta that the moat at the top of the Stadium “Glacier" was getting to be quite sizable and the snow bridge was pretty thin, so we chose climber's right to head up the rocky moraine. The moraine was quite chossy and somewhat loose, but there was enough of a use-trail that it was manageable as long as we paid attention to our footing.

On the ridgeline, the views to the south expanded before us. Smoke blanketed the valleys while pillars and peaks emerged from the haze like the eyries of dragons. Unfortunately the haze prevented us from seeing as far as The Lions, but it added a surreal sense of depth and height.

At the Pink Slab, we chose the easier route to climber's right and followed the diagonal crack towards the rock cairn on top of a boulder. It was easier than expected, though certainly consequential enough to pay close attention to hand and foot placement.

Once on top of the slab, we struggled to find the rappel bolts. We knew they were climbers left, but couldn't spot them anywhere. We searched a ledge that seemed the ideal location, but no bolts. After 30 minutes, we eventually found them 10m below where we thought they’d be.

They're slightly lower in elevation than the boulder rock cairn. We followed the ledge to skiers right from the cairn, then about 5m down from the end of the upper ledge is where the rappel station is (see photo).

From there we proceeded up and struggled a bit with route-finding, despite our GPX track and GPS. There's so much micro terrain to navigate and often the difference between a 3rd and 5th class route is less than a meter side to side. We slowly found our way using clues like disturbed vegetation, rocks without lichen, and ledges cleaned of choss (in addition to GPS).

At the first chimney, we slowly made our way up. I climbed a stemmy section (low 5th?) before directing my partner up a 3rd class route to climber's left. Careful route selection is imperative for those without a rock climbing background. This chimney didn't have any bolts at the top, so we nicknamed it the “unprotected chimney".

The next (and last chimney) was the steepest and hardest part of the route. This was definitely 4th class as a fall would most likely be seriously injurious or fatal, but the moves weren't too hard once you mentally get past the "if I fall, I die” factor. Plenty of solid hand and footholds made for a fun and exhilarating climb! At the top, we spotted our bolts. Almost there!

The summit views were impressively smoky! We almost missed Tantalus, Garibaldi, and Mamquam hiding in the thick soup. Even Howe Sound was almost obscured, but it was still worth it for the challenge and the views of closer peaks. A chipmunk tried to sneakily steal some food from us, so we remained vigilant.

On the way down, we set a rope through the rap rings on the bolts and made sure to tie stopper knots at the end of each strand. In tandem, we each attached our ATCs and backup hitches to the ropes so we could safety check each other before individually rapping down. Ah the joy of a good rappel!

Once down, we undid our knots and pulled the rope without any issues. At the next chimney, I offered to place protection for my partner to rap down. There was a nice looking boulder with a big horn on it and lots of room underneath. I pushed it while standing and it seemed solid. But then I climbed onto it and really rocked my weight onto it and felt it jiggle a bit. Definitely not a safe anchor! Don't use! So we downclimbed.

Below the chimney, all we had left was the Pink Slab. After down-climbing the unprotected chimney, the slab looked like a breeze. Even so, it seemed a waste not to break out the other rope and put the rap rings to good use. Smooth, simple, and short! Below the slab, we saw a number of other parties starting to make their way up.

One party of four we encountered had us a bit perplexed. Two of them had helmets, harnesses, and other technical gear (even pickets!), while the other two seemed to be outfitted like everyday hikers without even helmets or ice axes. I also didn't see a rope on anyone's pack, which had me a bit puzzled. Maybe inside the pack?

We mentioned our route-finding difficulties to them and one of the helmeted dudes said he had “saved a screenshot of the map on my phone." Internally, my eyebrows raised a bit. They’ll probably be fine, I reassured myself, while alarm bells went off in my head. They were not in fact fine as it turns out.

According to Squamish SAR:

"Last night, our team responded to a group of mountaineers on Sky Pilot after one member sustained an injury. The group had also become cliffed out and were unable to safely continue their descent… Sky Pilot is a serious alpine objective. While the route is well travelled, it involves exposed scrambling, route finding, and complex terrain where a wrong turn can quickly lead to serious consequences.”

We later heard from another party talk of a climber on the summit who had been drinking a bottle of wine to himself. I honestly don't know whether this was the injured climber or not, but I just want to say that alcohol and scrambling/climbing/mountaineering don't mix well together! (I have all the sympathy in the world for people with addiction, but if you're going through it then it's probably not the best time to be climbing mountains)

The rest of the way down was relatively uneventful. We felt the runout was safe enough on the Stadium "Glacier” (more of a permanent snowfield) to safely glissade with our ice axes. The snow was in good condition at this point for self-arrest in case things got out of control, so we had a blast taking the easy way down!

The walk back to the car was hot and smoky, but overall pretty easy despite our exhaustion. This was a day for the memory books in oh so many ways! Many thanks to my climbing partner for taking on this challenge, helping find the route at times, and for safety checking my rappels. She's amazing :)

Also, please please PLEASE only do this climb if you have the experience and training to safely do so. Helmets and ice axes are mandatory, as are self-arrest skills. Good route-finding is also a must-have. I’ve been mountaineering for quite some time and I even struggled a bit at times.

Lastly, your experience of this climb will depend entirely on whether you have the background of a rock climber or that of a hiker. Rock climbers will probably find the technical sections and exposure relatively “easy", while hikers will find this climb incredibly challenging and serious. BC 4th class is no joke! So have fun, be safe, and make good choices!

What tools do you like to use for predicting thunderstorms before heading out on a multi-day adventure?

I'm heading on an alpine trip next week along the Sea to Sky corridor and I've been reviewing the weather models closely. I typically use SpotWX to compare forecast runs between different models.

The GDPS model from Environment Canada is showing moderate instability and likelihood of thunderstorms in the afternoons next week. Conversely, the GFS model from NOAA is forecasting stable conditions. Meanwhile, Mountain Forecast is also predicting clear weather.

It's still too soon to review my preferred models (HRDPS, RDPS, & HRRR), as well as meteograms from AvCan. I know I can just wait for these to come out when it comes closer to leaving for my trip, but it's wreaking havoc on my planning process.

Does anyone use different tools, or have any advice/insight/personal experience that may help? Thanks!

(Photo is from 2015 when I got caught in a thunderstorm in the alpine just below Forester Pass at 3650m in the Sierra Nevada Range. Pea-sized hail, rain, and lightning caused all the PCT thru-hikers to shelter in place. Trying to avoid a repeat of this experience)

Warning: Hiking in the dark can be a risky activity and should only be carried out by experienced hikers, scramblers, or mountaineers. You should always have offline navigation, a spare light source, and good knowledge of your route and conditions. An ice axe and self-arrest skills are also highly recommended for crusty early morning snow.

I entered Golden Ears Park around 2245 just before the gate closed for the night on July 6th. I left my car at Gold Creek parking lot at 2300 with the goal of arriving at the summit for sunrise.

On the way up, I encountered a handful of tents at Alder Flats and did my best to hike quietly and not shine my headlamp at campers’ tents. I really hope I didn't wake or disturb anyone. Not a bear, just a crazy night hiker, lol!

I took a short break at the viewpoint above Alder Flats to eat my PB&J when I noticed a mouse poke its head out of its burrow. Completely unfazed by my presence, it practically tried to crawl up my leg to get at my food! I stirred, but it kept coming. I tapped my trekking poles to no avail. Eventually I shouted at it to “Go away!" and it finally got the message.

If you do this hike, please be careful not to leave crumbs at the viewpoint (and especially DON'T feed the wildlife). While some might think the mouse is cute, you won't feel this way when it chews a hole in your pack or when it bites and transmits plague to you (seriously). Let's all keep the WILD in wildlife please!

Around 0330, I arrived at Panorama Ridge shelter campsite to the sickening smell of human waste wafting from the latrines. I passed quickly and switched my headlamp to red so as not to disturb the campers, before finding a nice spot in the rocks above the water source to brew some coffee before the summit push.

As the firstlight began slowly illuminating the northern horizon, I made my way across the snow towards the East Ridge. To my surprise, the snow remained firm despite the warm night air! It was the best snow for cramponing I’ve seen all season… the one time I only brought microspikes + trail-runners, instead of boots + crampons! D’oh!

I normally prefer snow to rock, so I took a shortcut up the steep 45° snow to climber's right only to discover that my microspikes didn't have enough purchase. My feet began to slide so I used my ice axe to catch myself. I cautiously kicked and edged my soft shoes into the snow the remainder of the way until I finally reach the ridge.

The ridgeline had a few hundred vertical meters of some of the finest class 3 scrambling I’ve ever done (after all, I'm used to the crumbly, rotten Cascades). Most every hold was solid and each jug, shelf, and flake was a positive delight! The route was well flagged with trail tape, though very occasionally hard to follow.

At 0515, I topped out at the flat summit of the northern Ear with the orange-red light of dawn illuminating behind Mt Robie Reid like the temple to another realm. It felt like a dream, with the mountains all around bathed in alpenglow and the tiny cities of Vancouver, Burnaby, Surrey, and Pitt Meadows still in the blue-purple mountain shadows.

After an hour of stupor-like joy and wonder, I began making my way back down. I encountered a solid handline in a steep section (red 10mm static, solid anchor) and was thankful for it! Then I veered off into the snow for a seated glissade atop the slowly warming white pillowy wisps. At one point, my speed got away from me despite the drag of my axe shaft/spike beside me, so I flipped over into a self-arrest. No biggie. Rule #1: always glissade with an axe!

Back at the ridge, I stopped at the water again while the bugs began to swarm. I sent a satellite message to my family to update them. With my head net atop my sun hat, I brewed another cup of coffee and made myself some of the finest oatmeal I’ve ever tasted, as the slow haze of the day began to waft across the mountains. What a fine morning!

The campers began to stir and pack. I finished my coffee and began to head down. Along the way, I removed some poorly placed and badly tied handlines before arriving at the ones I tied back in April. I had planned on removing them since they were only meant to be temporary.

*Someone* replaced the handlines with a retired climbing rope (9.8mm dynamic manufactured around 2014, if I had to guess). They were tied to an 8" diameter living tree with a Yosemite bowline knot with a double overhand backup on the tail. In lieu of alpine butterflies, oysterman’s stopper knots were tied every 1.5m to provide handholds. Whoever tied these must have known this trail sees a lot of use in the summer! Hopefully they'll return to clean/check them come autumn.

By this point in the descent, my knee began to get unhappy again because this section of trail is quite rocky and rooty. The patella was doing fine, but my IT band had me literally cursing aloud at times. I stretched my hamstrings and my hips, and that seemed to do enough to get me by. I stopped and chatted for a while with the throng of hikers and backpackers heading up for the day, and the break from movement seemed to help as well.

After a speedy return via the well-groomed East Canyon Trail, I arrived back at my car at 1300, 14 hours after I’d left it. Without breaks, it took me about 9 hours of moving time to ascend and return. What a fine day in the BC Coast Mountains!!

Safety Note: Please DO NOT tie handlines if you don't know what you're doing. I removed one that was tied using clothesline to a dead tree root just below the east spur ridge top out point. Whoever tied it clearly had no idea how to build an anchor or even a solid knot. THIS IS VERY DANGEROUS!! You could get someone killed or seriously injured if they blindly trust your line.

Hi everyone! I'm newish to BC and an experienced mountaineer/scrambler looking for people to partner up with for some BC scrambles (roped glacier climbs also welcome!). Would anyone be interested in grouping up with me?

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2026 Summer Objectives Include:

Ossa Mountain (or Pelion) - Overnight

Tricouni via West Side Scramble Route - C2C

Armchair Traverse - Overnight or C2C

Mt Robie Reid - Overnight

Possibly C2C for Sky Pilot, Train Glacier, West Lion, Golden Ears, etc

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About me:

34 (F) with 10 years mountaineering experience (30% group, 70% solo) and 15+ years hiking, backpacking, and snowshoeing. Former elite junior cyclist (road & cyclocross). Can rig a solid rappel, TR anchor, or 6:1 CR setup. Returning to mountaineering this year after a few years away from the sport.

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I'm very safety-conscious and generally make conservative decisions, especially when climbing with those less experienced. I have a collective approach and encourage all group members to speak their mind when it comes to comfort and safety. I’m mostly just happy to be out in the alpine! The summit is just a bonus :)

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Notable Ascents:

Mt Hood - Solo in Winter via Icefall Chute (AI2) + PG in Spring w/Mazamas + PG in Spring Solo

Middle Sister - Summer via Hayden Glacier w/Rope Team

Three Finger Jack - Follower on Alpine 5.2 Trad

Mt Whitney - Summer via JMT

Mt San Jacinto - Spring via Devil's Slide (descent via Fuller)

Mt Washington (NH) - Summer via Avy Gulch

Mt Shadowfax - Spring 45°-50° Snow via West Face

Old Snowy - Summer via North Ridge Class 3 Route

Munra Point - Class 4 Scramble

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Other Accomplishments:

PCT Thru-hiker 2015 & 2017

Solo Spring Circumnavigation + Summit of South Sister

Group Climb Leader on St Helens, Adams, and South Sister

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Formal Education:

Mazamas BCEP

Mazamas Ice Climbing Clinic

Mazamas Crevasse Rescue

AIARE Lvl 1 through Kaf Adventures (equivalent to AST 1+)

Former Nurse Aide + 2.5 years Nursing School (USA)

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Current Ratings:

V4 Boulder Indoor (I hate boulder!)

5.10b on Indoor TR (onsight/flash 5.10a)

Mid-5th Outdoor TR (will be cragging more SP soon!)

Alpine AD

AI-2 Free Solo/WI-TBD (hoping to crag some WI this winter)

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Preference for those with weekday availability, smaller groups, and/or non cis-male climbing partners (though gender isn't necessarily a deal-breaker). Let me know if you're keen to climb together! Tell me a bit about your experience or what you want to learn, hey? Thx! :)

I recently planned a solo trip up an alpine couloir (45-55° snow/ice), but had to turn around on approach due to unavoidable overhead cornice risk. In evaluating my gear decisions, I feel like I brought too much technical kit as a "just in case". How do you decide what to bring and what to leave at home?

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I mostly wanted to make sure I had what I needed to:

1. rappel down the couloir headwall, preferably on a snow bollard, but possibly a sacrificial picket/ice screw

2. anchor in place on snow/ice/rock in order to rest or in case of injury by rock/icefall

3. emergency bail via glacier by roping up with a different team

4. take a Tyrolean cable crossing on the approach

5. leash the Ice Axe and Petzl Quark to my belay loop for self-belay and safe keeping (the Grivel one is nice & supportive for piolet traction, but is old and thus untrustworthy)

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Not pictured but still brought:

Black Diamond Momentum 4S Harness (I'll be upgrading to the Choucas Pro soon! Yay!)

Center-clip SMC Picket

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Rope is an 8.0mm Mammut Alpine Half/Twin. Brought an auto-block and two prusiks, a 60cm & 120cm dyneema sling, a 120cm nylon sling, 4 lockers, 3 Miniwire non-lockers, long ice screw, BD gridlock belay carabiner, and an ATC guide.

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I know there's lighter gear options out there, but I can't afford them at the moment. I'm already aware that a RAD line, Choucas, Tibloc, ATC Alpine Guide (or figure 8 device), Sum'Tec, etc would have dropped a lot of weight while maintaining almost the same functionality.

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Thanks! :)

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

The Plan:

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!

The Reality:

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…

The Rescue:

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…

The Debrief:

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.

Resources:

whistlersar.com

gaiagps.com

alltrails.com

mountain-forecast.com

spotwx.com

meteograms.avalanche.ca

weather.gov

copernicus.eu

bcsara.com/no-charge-for-sar/

Has anyone been up to Wedgemount Lake in the past week or so? I'm curious how quickly it's melting out.

I'm most interested in reports about the snow on the south side of the lake. If you have any photos looking that way and/or up at Wedge Mountain, can you share them in the comments?

I checked the FreshSat layer on Gaia and it hasn't updated in at least 2-3 weeks. On Copernicus, it appears that the NW corner of the lake is melting out and that some of the rock/cliff bands are now exposed. AllTrails reviews haven't been particularly detailed in the last two weeks.

I'm an experienced mountaineer looking at doing the Parkhurst route (pictured above for reference) from Scrambles in SWBC by Matt Gunn before heading up into the NW Couloir of Wedge (from Alpine Select by Kevin McLean) if conditions allow.

Will be carrying an ice axe, crampons, hybrid ice tool, helmet, harness, and abseil rope. Just trying to gauge how much of a slog it's going to be from the lake outflow to the top of Parkhurst. I already anticipate some level of post-holing through poor quality snow at these elevations and current snow levels.

Hoping the NW Couloir is in good shape! Thanks in advance :D