Mt. Athabasca, North Face

By: Gary Clark | Climbers: Gary & Lynn Clark, Mark Zander| Trip Dates: August 28, 1997

Photo: Joe Catellani

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8/27/97: We arrive after our usual up-and-back commute of the Icefields Parkway looking for acceptable conditions and weather. On this occasion, we were traveling south from Jasper after finding Edith Cavell in its usual bad shape. The campground closest to the mountain is full (as usual), but that's OK, I like the Jonas Creek campground 15km north a lot better anyway. More Winnebagoes - my kind of people. Soon we are packing the bags by lantern in the shelter while making some kind of swill for dinner.

8/28/98: Up at 4:00a and drive to the base of the climb - sign in, noting there are already a couple of parties ahead of us. Up the moraine by the sensory deprivation of headlamp. By the time we reach the foot of the glacier, the sun is starting to appear, and the face looks inviting in the alpenglow and swirling mists. Crampons on, and up the glacier - very hard ice, points hardly penetrating, but easy, and the crevasses are no problem. 30 minutes of this, and we meet a party coming down - someone isn't feeling well. Now there is only one party to worry about kicking ice down!

Reaching the little saddle, we can clearly see the other party already 1/3 of the way up! I mentally repeat the alpinists mantra: "getting an even earlier start is never a bad idea". Oh well, the face is broad, and I aim for a point on the bergschrund well to the left of usual to stay out of the fall line. At the bottom, I notice things in the snow - a dropped mitt, then another. We gather them, hoping the owners have spares. We rope up - me in the lead, Lynn at half way, Mark at the bottom. The plan is to simul-climb as much as possible, and quickly we settling into the rhythm of axe swing and pied troisieme.

25 meters, then a screw. Lynn reaches the first and calls up, which means it's time for another. So we go, rope length after rope length, keeping the slack to a minimum, but careful not to pull each other off. The feeling of movement and confidence in the team joins with the aesthetics of the situation to produce exactly what we came for: pure exhilaration. About halfway up, we pass the other party, which is also having a great time. It's their first big ice face, and they are playing it safe by belaying each pitch. They decide to take a variation to the right rather than come up directly below us. The two options look about equal in difficulty.

Oops - time to collect all the screws again - I chop a small platform at waist level, then step up into it to rest the calves while I belay the others. After repeating the entire exercise about 3 times, we're at the base of the crux pitch, where the slope begins to steepen. This is welcome; the climb needs a climax. I plug in two titanium screws and call for a proper belay. Shortly I am at the crux, and note with pleasure that it's all covered with ice - the rock is rotten, and I was not looking forward to it. I clip an ancient pin and a wire sticking out of the rock to the right before making a few moves of "near vertical", then it eases off. I place a couple of good screws and set the belay, then look over to the right to discover a good fixed anchor in the rock - oh well, I'd rather be here on the ice than teetering with my crampons on the rock.

The snow, which has been ever present on top of the ice, has gone from a single centimeter to about 10 cm deep up here higher on the face. This has meant digging more for each screw placement. Now the final pitch looks more like snow slogging than ice climbing, and although not as steep as the crux, is much less secure because the crampons aren't making it in to the ice. I dig for a couple of screws early on, then just run it out to the top, which is quite welcome. The climb ends very abruptly, and I drop down on the south side a few meters to bring the others up. With the rope running up and over the cornice, there is no need for an anchor - gravity will take care of it.

The summit is only vaguely familiar, since the last time I was here was 24 years ago. The descent is routine but very beautiful, especially in the afterglow of the climb. We reach the cars about 10 hours after leaving them, and dig into the cooler for a cold one. A great climb, a great team, and a welcome Canadian summit after several unsuccessful attempts in a row on harder objectives. Now it's back to Jasper to wait for Edith to decide whether she's finally in the mood.