Bugaboos to Rogers Pass Grand Ski Traverse

Talk of the ‘Bugs 2 Rogers’ had come up while out camping on military exercise. Local aspiring guides and I were working, training Canadian squaddies, on how to combat terrorists at the 2010 Whistler Winter Olympics. Snow cave conversation would often come back to the terrible snow winter being experienced across western Canada, the persistent weak layers, or PWLs, (Canadians love acronyms) in the snow pack and the Association of Canadian Mountain Guides, or ACMG, guide training ski application requirements.

`The Boys` had skiing resumés to beef up before the ACMG application dead line. Every one had been pulling there hair out in exasperation over the snow conditions. Skiers, boarders and skidooers had been dieing in droves under avalanches that were as numerous and powerful from the west coast ranges across to the eastern edge of the Rocky Mountains. This did not inspire me to join a team embarking on a 130km, high mountain, wilderness ‘Grand Traverse’. The Bugs 2 Rogers was rapidly gaining classic if not infamous status.

Escaping from the route at many points would be a 3 day bushwhack through 50km of trees crawling with hungry bears fresh out of hibernation! Not only was the tour remote but many of the passes would pose a significant avalanche hazard in anything less than ideal conditions. This was not the Alps. No Huts with friendly guardians offering seasoned advice. No tracks from the numerous skiers ahead. No light 35L day bags. This was Canada in full force. This tour was everything the Alps wasn’t. Winter camping night after night and a 70L pack full to the brim.

The Purcell and Selkirk mountains are a chain of 2000m to 3000m peaks that are home to the Bugs 2 Rogers grand traverse and make up the southern portion of the Columbia range. This massif runs from just north of the US boarder up the east side of British Columbia for 600km. It’s bisected by the Trans Canada Highway at Rogers’ Pass before moving into the northern portion comprising of the Monashee and Caribou mountains. The trip had first been skied by 4 Americans in June of 1958 in an impressive 9 day push from south to north.

A 12-day trip was planned for. We would fly to the Bugaboos in a helicopter, carry 6 days’ food over the first half, pick up a heli dropped food cash half way, then ski out to Rogers’ Pass. This itinerary allowed for a couple of bad weather days or time spent trudging through the valley bottoms to avoid an avalanche prone pass or two.

The down draft from the chopper blew dust in our eyes as it touched down beside us. The skies were blue and had been for days. The trip could hardly have started under better circumstances.

The first day’s touring was considerably more eventful than hoped for. An early start allowed us passage through the moraines and on to the plateau below the Snow Patch col. The 1000m of ascent had taken its time and the east facing Snowpatch col was taking too much sun to be safe. A temporary camp was made on the flats while we waited for the snow to cool. The slope soon went into the shade and in the early evening we were able to climb the steep slope to the top in reasonable confidence, it did however take its toll. Al and Elisabeth both of whom had the world’s heaviest packs dropped out of the tour once on the col. It panned out that a few things were amiss! Firstly Al couldn’t cope without a clear leader in the group. We were collectively making decisions as a team of friends, and this was not working for him. Secondly, the younger fitter majority of the group knocked his ego a little off centre. These factors came to a head and our slightly large and unwieldy group of 8 swiftly became a compact team of 6. Cam, Ty, Dave, Mike, Rocio and I parted company and with darkness at our heels we made camp lower on the glacier.

Things did not immediately start to run smoothly! The next day we pushed on again. The first crux of the day was to climb a steep south facing glacial slope early in the morning, over an unnamed peak before cruising down the Conrad Glacier. A good look at the map convinced us we should try a direct line of descent. We knew there was an icefall but no route description, and little clue from the map gave indication of which was the best way. It could have been worse! A convex slope lured us in and soon the rope was deployed to navigate some poorly bridged crevasses. Only Ty fell in to a crevasse (roped) and after an abseil from a V thread all was well. Our camp on the glacier some distance from the icefall had a view giving us a sneaking suspicion that a route further north on the glacier may have been much easier!!

The weather had been fantastic and the scenery second to none. The vastness of the glaciers, punctuated by towering rock faces and spires of the Bugaboos granite would soon turn to the quartzite mountains of a more traditional nature. The descent from the Conrad glacier gave a mix of powder interspersed with just enough sun crud to catch you out once your confidence had started to build.

After the Crystalline pass we were able to work our way along low angle benches on east facing slopes slowly getting baked by the sun. There came a point where the terrain became unworkable and another mini break was called for to let the slopes go into shade and cool off. This turned out to be a good call as that evening skiing over the crisp frozen snow, we moved through some extremely large avalanche slopes before reaching the Climax col. We camped at the Hume pass under a rising moon, eager with anticipation of the north facing powder slopes below.

In the following days we made good progress over high passes and tackling the steepest ski descents of the tour. Safe travel tactics and the use of radios were deployed while skiing the more exposed terrain.

Under the Malachite col, Rocio and I camped a little way down valley from the rest of the team. Over the radios we planned for a 7am getaway that would see us over the col before that sun cooked it.

Over night a few snow flakes fell and the morning greeted us with a cold breeze and cloudy skies. This in many ways was ideal conditions for what was a major crux section. The long 50 + degree slope leading to the Malachite col was again east facing. Though the snow stability was good we knew the PWLs deep in the snow pack would start to wake up if too much solar radiation affected the slope. Rocio and I got up early and pushed on while the others made a slower start. The sun hit the slope as we approached its base so with haste we put our skiis on our bags and donned our crampons and axes. The snow was reasonable for hiking steps but as we reached the top things started to soften. With such a large slope beneath us we made a belay on the rock and Rocio led one pitch over the top. Just as we reached the col the rest of the team arrived at the foot of the slope. Radio conversations mulled over the sensibility of attempting the slope that had by now taken a fair bit of sun. Hungry bellies and the thought of getting to the food cash that night was definitely a motivating factor. Though the risks were higher the team started the climb. Luckily it was soft un-climbable snow not an avalanche that turned them back. They would have to wait for colder conditions and Rocio and I continued alone. The rock spur that ran from the summit of International mountain proved taxing but quite safe. This left us with what we thought would be the simple task of finding the International Basin hut and most importantly the food cash. Canadians unlike the Europeans like to hide their huts in completely random places deep in the woods. The grid reference was wrong and after 2 hours the hut was found in a fantastically illogical place!

With the luxury of the entire hut to ourselves we spread out and got an early night. To our astonishment at 9.30pm the door flung open and in stumbled the missing 4. They had climbed the slope in the late afternoon and ended up just making it down the supper before dark. Luckily they had been able to follow our tracks to the hut, where a slow-motion explosion of equipment was now occurring. They were knackered and a quick vote made it clear that a rest day was most definitely on tomorrow’s agenda!

A happy coincidence, that the rest day was the first day of properly poor weather. The other great thing was that we got to stuff ourselves with all the food that was originally for Al and Elisabeth. Eating, sleeping and looking at the snow falling felt like a day well spent!

Reluctantly we left the hut early the following day as the snow fell lightly and that cloud moved in and out. It was a piece of bad luck that the visibility was poor in this section. We had been reliably informed that the mount David and mount Conny section of the map was woefully inaccurate. A bit of head scratching ensued and eventually a plan to take the route between the two peaks was acted on. A friend had given us some photos of the route. We packed the map away and picked out rock relating them to the picture.

The Beaver-Duncan divide is an enormous valley fault line splitting the southern Columbias south west to north east. It was our gateway from the Purcells to the Selkirks. Loosing so much elevation on our way to the valley came with its drawbacks. The trees became tighter, the valley side steeper and the snow turned to porridge. We did however feel lucky that bad weather we were experiencing seemed to be coinciding with quite reasonable terrain. At the bottom of the valley the team once again had to split. Dave was running late for a flight so he and Mike opted to ski the valley route and push a few days together in order to get out on time. This left Cam, Ty, Rocio and I to try and finish things off.

The promise of improving weather tempted us to try the high level alternative, navigating Beaver Mountain, the Sugar Loaf, and Grand mountain. However the following day the weather had, if anything, worsened and it was decided to abort along the valley to the grand Glacier. This manoeuvre sidesteps the most difficult section of this part of the trip. A day was spent at the valley bottom crossing rivers, thrashing through bushes and dodging bears, whose footprints were all over the place.

Looking at the map we could see that if we pushed on a bit we could have the trip nailed in 2 more days. We stank to high heaven and the thought of a beer and some junk food at the Glacier Park Lodge hotel was willing us on.

The Deville glacier was guarded by steep gullies of snow climbing on its southern side and 100m of abseiling on the north side. We looked up and traced a line of weakness through the rocks that would lead to the plateau. As we strapped our skis to our bags Ty started to murmur about the steepness and difficulty of the slope. ‘Hummm I’m not sure if I’m up for this’. We stopped. What do you mean? Ty, it turned out, had been having a bit of a battle with the exposure and mountaineering side of things. Though a very strong skier the thought of a few hundred meters of soloing on grade 1 – 2 ground did not appeal to Ty. One option was that he walk around the valley bottom and meet us at the Glacier Circle hut that evening. The other, that he gets a helicopter.

As we were standing at the foot of a south east facing slope that was about to get nuked by the sun. Rocio and I left Ty and Cam to figure out a plan. It transpired that Ty opted for the heli ride and was probably drinking beers in the sun only a few hours later. Cam quickly caught up with us and now as a very compact team we pushed on climbing the gullies and then skinning over the plateau. The sun was out in full force and it was fantastic to have views across the expanse of the Deville and its crown of peaks. After carrying two 60m ropes for 9 days it was finally time to use them. The glacier crashed in gnarled waves of ice down the smooth walls of the rock plinth. Thankfully tucked out of harm’s way the rappels were on rock anchors on the right hand side. Though steep, the rappel was well equipped and uneventful. This lead to a simple ski down to Glacier Circle and another hunt for the hut.

We were pleased to see that Mike and Dave had stopped in the night before, and better still was that they had broken trail all the way across the Illacilewaet glacier. In the hut we noticed that the 4 American pioneers of the Bugs 2 Rogers grand traverse had written their names on the windowsill 49 years before. This certainty added authenticity to an already rustic log cabin tucked away in the forest miles from anywhere.

The final day was a walk in the park. The trail made for quick progress and as the Canadians say it was a ‘splitter’ (blue sky) day. We did however cross an alarming amount of avalanche debris. It transpired that when Mike and Dave had been leaving the hut they had heard an eerie rumble. This had turned out to be a truly massive cornice collapse with blocks the size of European sized cars mixed up in the debris. It had filled the upper valley wall to wall and they had seen no alternative but to ski over the debris in haste hoping the remaining cornices were happy where they were.

The decent in to the Illacilewaet valley, though beautiful, was less than the hero corn snow we had hoped for. Kick turns and defensive techniques lead to better skiing. Once in the trees we whistled down even passing the unfamiliar sight of other skiers on our way to the road. We had joked about how people would be able to smell that we had not just been out on a day tour.

Elated to have been successful and blessed with such good conditions we couldn’t help smiling to ourselves. After quaffing large amounts of junk food we made haste to the luxury of Cam’s hot tub where beer in hand we could finally feel that our 12 day journey had come to an end.

By Owen Samuel

www.ibexguides.com