The CCT* strikes (out), again.
Last Saturday, 0459. As usual, I wake up just before my alarm is set to go off. We’re aiming to climb the Sea of Vapours, and since it’s a weekend, and it’s one of the most sought-after climbs in the Rockies, and since it’s in easy 4+ shape this year, we’re expecting a lot of people so an early start is imperative.
After a quick breakfast and some last-minute packing, I’m good to go by 0525. Of course, my climbing partner lives in his own timezone so we don’t actually leave the driveway until way after six…
“Why do I even bother waking up on time?” I wonder as we drive up to Banff, only to find two vehicles already there, one with an ominous SoV scrawled in the dirt on the back…
Thursday, 0459 Yep, same thing, up moments before the alarm. This time, though, I am not packed with gear and clothes scattered all over the house. Even without much hurry, I’m packed, fed and watered within 35 minutes, 5 minutes later than our as-scheduled departure time. Which, since we’re on Jeff-time, means we don’t leave the house until 0630. Getting scooped again is quite likely, even on a Thursday. This time, though, we’re prepared – in case we miss out on SoV again, I’ve packed some rock gear to protect the very thin, grey-iced, delaminated and scary-looking bottom pitch of The Replicant.
Clearly visible from the highway as you drive between Banff and Canmore, The Trophy Wall is high up on Mt. Rundle, and should be obvious even if you’re not a climber. Host to three magnificent streaks of ice – The Terminator, The Replicant and Sea of Vapours – it is a bastion of hard climbing. Revolutionary when they were first climbed in the early 90’s, these routes are still not taken lightly.
Arriving fashionably late at the parking lot, we determine the only other car parked there is a climbers’ vehicle, and as we hop on our bikes, Jeff is hopeful that maybe we’ll pass them on the road.
After a 2-hour bike and hike, we’re at the base just as the other party starts up SoV. We fight through the deep snow up to The Replicant, toss our backpacks in the snow and start the rationalizing.
“That looks thick enough to take a stubby. Could get a nut in there. It looks better up there, just that there’s no pro for the first 20m. Hey, come up closer to the base. It’s more overhanging than it looks from there! It’s really grey and delaminated. This piece is like 6-inches away from the rock. But it does look better up higher. I’m just worried that there won’t be anywhere to put a V-thread to bail if we have to. The snow is deep, can always jump? I guess we could sling the ice? How many slings do we have? How much do they cost?”
Jeff finally decided that it was, indeed, climbable and – just – protectable. Rock gear weighing down the harness, he started gently tapping his way up the fragile shell. First piece – pink tri-cam wedged into a crack. Second piece – barely-in stubby tied off with a screamer. Third piece – solid 13cm! No screamer needed! And we’re off…
The CCT aka The Casual Climbing Team. A nickname I’ve come up with to (somewhat) describe our casual shoulder-shrugging, ass-sliding, snow-wading, route-finding nonchalance. We get lost, scooped, bail, struggle up easy ice and yet still have a blast. Very non-competitive for a “team.”
The first glimpse of the Trophy Wall from the trail. From left to right: The Terminator (unformed), The Replicant (that thin streak in the middle) and Sea of Vapours (that long one on the right).
The sun hitting Cascade, but hasn’t made it down to the valley yet. This view is worth the bike/hike alone.
The guys that scooped us on SoV left the parking lot at 5am. Seriously?? 5am?? When did they wake up?!
The, um, mountain range across the valley. I need to learn the names of these peaks. Someday.
Ginger first steps up thin ice. Our first piece was a pink tri-cam another few feet higher.
Jeff super-excited to get a screw in. Not that 6cm of a 10cm stubby in questionable ice slung with a screamer is good pro…
You can’t tell from this angle, but this is seriously overhanging ice.
Spindrift, yeah! I don’t know why, but I love the feeling of spindrift falling over me. As long as I have a hood up, that is.
My headspace just wasn’t where it should be, so Jeff led the next pitch too. Next time!
Thin, overhanging and fragile. “The hardest climbing I’ve ever done,” says Jeff.
The belays may be cold, but at least the view is good.
Ok, somewhat more dramatic than in reality. But, this ain’t a documentary!
Rafal Andronowski Photography 