Saskatchewan’s Mountain Still Unclimbed
by Shelley Ballard-McKinlay
(published in the June 25 Star Phoenix)
On May 8, 2005, six mountain climbers set off to Celebrate Saskatchewan by attempting an unclimbed peak – Mount Saskatchewan, located in a wild and remote region of the Yukon. When we arrived at Kluane Lake the weather was clear and there was no lineup of climbers waiting to fly in. We couldn’t believe our luck. But, as our pilot pointed out, this was the good news. The bad news was that it had been a low snow year and spring had come about six weeks early in the Yukon. He was going to have to drop us off about 15 kilometers further up the Walsh Glacier than he’d originally anticipated. Fifteen kilometers further away from our destination.
During the following eight days spent getting to the mountain, there were times when we wondered if we’d even get to see Mount Saskatchewan! In the end, we were forced to admit defeat. It was a tough decision, but snow conditions and weather made it unsafe to continue.
Mount Saskatchewan is located in the Centennial Range – a group of mountains named after each of the provinces and territories. 1967 saw the only previous attempt on its summit and Saskatchewan’s Centennial in 2005 seemed like the appropriate time to try again.
The first day went well. From our landing point on the Walsh Glacier we made a gradual descent of 200 m over 15 kilometers. In the morning the snow was hard which made for fast travel. Although “fast” is relative when you’re hauling 55 kgs (120 lbs) each of gear, food and fuel in backpacks and sleds.
Over the next two days we wound our way over moraines and around crevasses, in a constant tug of war with unruly sleds that didn’t want to follow the path of our skis but instead slid down the side slopes trying to pull us off balance. Then the snow disappeared and we were faced with gravel and rubble on top of ice and the grim reality that our skis and sleds were now useless and double carries on foot would be required. And we were still 10 km away from our high camp.
Worse than that, our way was blocked by a "creek" on one side and a raging glacial "river" on the other, a result of warm weather and melting snow. It was unnerving to be blocked so early in our climb.
We scouted our options and, just as we’d lost hope of finding an easy route, we located a spot where the river dived under the ice so we could cross up onto the Prairie Glacier. We returned to camp in better spirits - the way ahead was clear again.
The "Prairie" Glacier bears little resemblance to the prairies. It’s a steep mess of disintegrating rubble, ice, and meltwater. We were forced by the terrain towards the left side of the glacier where there were steep slopes of loose rock. We put on our helmets, crossed our fingers, and moved through the threatened area as quickly as we could. When we got high enough to reach snow line again a thin crust covered soft, bottomless snow. If we were lucky we'd only sink in to our knees. If we were unlucky we’d be up to our waists and, quite literally, have to crawl on hands and knees to escape the snowy equivalent of quicksand. Our progress slowed to about 1/2 a kilometer (500m) an hour!
At the end of Day 7 we pushed on to set up our high camp. Frustratingly, we still couldn't see the mountain we'd come to climb! What we could see wasn't promising. The glacier was steep and heavily crevassed.
Finally, on Day 8, we rounded the corner of the glacier and got our first views of Mount Saskatchewan. It was impressive and daunting – a beautiful and distinctive peak guarding the end of the valley like a queen upon a throne, outshining Alberta and Manitoba on either side.
After a few moments of being awestruck, we quickly realized the mountain was going to prove more difficult than we’d anticipated. Above the crevasses was an ugly ice fall, huge chunks of ice collapsed on each other with more leaning over, waiting to fall. Unless you had suicidal tendencies, it wasn’t the way to go. The slopes on the right hand side were a possibility but didn't look inviting either - skimpy snow on steep slabs with a long drop below. Above the ice fall was a steep narrow gully, with loose rocks sticking out, leading to the col between Alberta and Saskatchewan. From there a rocky ridge led to the summit.
By early afternoon the sun turned the snow to mush and again we were floundering up to our waists. Ice crashing down from hanging glaciers made us nervous. We struggled back to camp, Andrew leading the way, probing for, and finding, many hidden crevasses.
The next day we set off at 2 a.m. in an attempt to climb during the coolest part of the day. Unfortunately, temperatures barely got below freezing and once again we were wading through deep now. A few hours later the weather turned and enveloped us in clouds and swirling snow. With visibility down to 50m, there was no way we could continue. We hunkered down for a while but the weather showed no signs of improvement and we headed back to camp.
Determined to make another try, we again woke early only to be faced with more clouds and snow. With limited food remaining, the weather, snow conditions, and climbing obstacles didn't leave us much choice. It was time to head home.
Although we didn’t summit Saskatchewan’s mountain we had a great trip. Each day we worked hard, exhausted ourselves, and felt like we’d accomplished a great deal. Facing the challenges, weighing the risks, and accepting defeat are all part of the mountaineering game. The experience and knowledge gained will never be lost. As we kept telling ourselves, “Every day is training for the next.”
The climbers: Steve McCartney, Dave McCartney, Ivan Hitchings, Derek Birkham, Andrew McKinlay, Shelley Ballard-McKinlay
Thanks to Outter Limits, the Saskatchewan Section of the Alpine Club of Canada, and Heritage Canada for their support.