Baffin Island, Mt Asgard, Line of Credit

Oh Canada!

By: Jia Condon Aug, 1998

First published in the Canadian Alpine Journal 1999

 

            Dry as the Mojave Desert” and “fun in the sun” were the phrased I kept replaying in my mind during our very stagnant trip in the Yukon this year. ( We climbed only three days out of twenty six)

             Together with  Rich and Bill Prohaska and Sean Easton,  I headed for Baffin Island. Our main goal was to climb a new route on Mt Asgard. Pictures showed a prominent unclimbed buttress to the right of the Scott Route. We arrived in Pangnirtung at 6 p.m. on June 1. Less than two hours later, we were loaded on a toboggan, along with two months’ worth of food and gear to climb any big wall (we hoped to do a wall route up Asgard), and being towed up Pangnirtung Fjord. The fjord was in very marginal conditions for snowmobiling. The surface resembled a lake more than an iced-up fjord, but with the expertise and experience of our guide we made it to within 3 km of the Overlord  cabin  inside three hours. Unfortunately, it took us a few more hours to ferry our gear the rest of the way to the shelter.

            The next morning was glorious. We spent the first few hours sorting our gear. S hearty free-rack, snowshoes, and two weeks’ worth of food were divided between Sean, rich and me. Bill, who is in his sixties, generously offered to carry a little also. Unfortunately, our packs weighed in at over a hundred pounds.  At least we all had  Arc’teryx  packs (shameless promotion). “Stupid heavy” is how I described them. We decided that getting to the next camp, only 15 km away, couldn’t be that bad, so off we went. It was during this first day that I would call the future story “ How to Cripple Yourself”  and then started by itemizing it: First: spend $1500 to fly for five hours within Canada. Second: walk for 30 miles (the distance to Asgard) with 110lb on your back.. Oh I suppose it wasn’t that bad.

            The following day, we decided to ferry loads. The next shelter being 10km away, we ended up walking 30km. We stuck with this strategy for the next few days. It wasn’t until Summit Lake that we did single carries again, our packs being lighter due to food-fuel cashes and big appetites. The first 9km were bearable, but the last 6km of glaciers were some of the worst of my life. It took us over eight hours to travel the last 6km. I had never experienced such unconsolidated snow before. Even with snowshoes on,  you would step through the 3 to 4 ft. of glacier snow and be standing on the glacier ice- providing there was ice to stand on!.

            But what a sight to behold. Mount Asgard- 4000ft. of beautiful granite, so symmetrical in shape and with its twin south towers equalling four times the acreage of granite on El Capitian.

                                                                 

            So far, every day had been outstanding. The next day we would climb at last. Or not. It was our first bad day. The tendonitis I had developed in my Achilles certainly didn’t mind the day off, but out big appetites were eating into our two weeks’ food supply. We now figured that if we didn’t get to climbing the next couple of days we would have to go and get more food- a 100km trip we would rather avoid.

             The next day dawned with enough clouds to deep us in our tents, but by 10am  the weather started to break. At 11 am , we said goodbye to Bill. Within the hour, we began, just as Doug Scott said, “the best big wall experience of our lives”. We took only two packs, leaving the leader to thoroughly enjoy the sharp end while the two seconds jumared. We climbed in blocks of three pitches to keep up some momentum.

            The climbing was amazing. Cracks would go on for pitches, then one could either face climb features to another corner of crack, of pendulum over to something. Every now and then, we would be trying to figure out which way to go, when we would hear Bill far below say “Up and left twenty feet,” or  “go right.” Bill watched and documented our whole climb through his binoculars. Soon we were engulfed by heavy, wet clouds. The rock became wet almost as if it were raining. By now we were about halfway up, so any retreat would not be fun in a storm. No one talked of such nonsense, and soon we were climbing out of the clouds. This was a magical time for me.  After feeling a few twinges of worry about the weather, climbing through the cloud to be greeted be a spectacular sunrise made me feel all warm inside.

            We climbed through the night and by 4am found a convenient flat boulder for three. We carried a stove to melt water and cook soup, and a light sleeping bag each. No tent, pads or bivi sacks. We ate and drank for two hours and napped for another two. We know it was a waste to sleep away such fine weather.

                                           

            No alarm clock was needed; I have a hard time sleeping under such commiting circumstances. Even a small storm would be very unpleasant given out minimal gear. We now had about another thousand feet to go. Each pitch just rolled into another, and by 1am we were on the summit under a full moon. It was another one of those warm moments.

                                                               

            We had no problem finding the descent route and our way down the glacier. The fun was over. Now we had to posthole our way back to camp. Unfortunately, without snowshoes, at almost every step we sank up to our crotches (well, to my crotch – to Rich and Sean’s knees!). This made for a very slow and wet process. But 46 hours after leaving camp, we were back.

            Line of Credit (named because of our worked visa cards) went at hard 5.10 A1 and was climbed in twenty-six 55-60m  pitches. We figure we freed at least 95 percent of the climb. Only half dozen pins and no bolts were placed.

            After 15 hours of sleep, we were on the trail again. This time our goal was food. Back at the Overlord cabin, we were gorging and trying to figure how to get Bill out in time for his plane. By now the fjord was in full break up – meaning no snowmobile and no boat access. No problem, it’s only 30 km to Pangnirtung. Oh, but the rivers are raging. It was  definitely too dangerous to send Bill out by himself, and none of us were too excited about hiking an extra 60 km before another climb. It was about this time that Tomas from the Czech Republic showed up. He had just carried a load in and was heading back for another. How convenient. He said that the rivers were indeed too high, but that at low tide he had been able to walk along the delta ice to avoid them. It was settled. Bill would travel back with Tomas. By now the rain had moved in full on. Dry as the Mojave, my ass! Don’t believe everything you read.

            When Tomas showed up two days later, he told us that he and Bill had a close call. The fjord ice they were using to get around the river made for great walking, so they stayed on the ice. On they walked until holes in the ice started to appear. No problem. They would just walk back a little, then cut back to shore. Unfortunately, the tide was now on the way out, breaking the ice floes up and taking them along. Now they could not even retrace their steps. The next hour turned into a fight for survival. They were jumping from one ice floe to the next, pushing smaller pieces of ice underneath the ice floes with ski poles so that they would support their weight. During this time, they both fell with their packs on into the cold water up to their armpits, catching themselves on the ice. One camera lost and 15 hours later, they made it to Pangnirtung.

            We were putting food aside for a big wall climb on Mt. Turnweather when we realized that our food supply wasn’t as rich as it should be. The rationing began.

            Sean now only had about ten days before his flight, so doing a big wall would be pushing it. We opted for another free route on Mt. Overlord, a leisurely one hour approach from camp. The lower portion was littered with old ropes and pitons. Soon the climbing got stiffer and there was no sign of previous climbers, but we were still unsure of the virginity of this route. On this climb, se took only one litre of water each and personal goodies for eats. We stuck with the same strategy  as on Asgard, leading in blocks of three with the seconds jumaring. After 30 hours, we were back at the Overlord shelter. The climbing wasn’t as good as on Asgard, but it was still fun. Overlord’s west ridge was 3000ft of up to hard 5.10 with some A1. Again, about 95 percent free.

            Now it was time to pull out the portaledge. We set our sights on the north face of Mt. Turnweather. Sean, being the nice fellow that he is, offered to help ferry the loads the 12km to the base. We did this for a few days while the weather was shitty and then said our goodbyes to Sean. We waited at the Overlord shelter until we got confirmation of his arrival at Pangnirtung. We then shouldered our last loads and humped them to Turnweather. After powwow and some scoping with the binoculars, we agreed on a line. The next day was spent moving loads up to the start of the route.

            The first few pitches were a hauling nightmare, but soon the climbing became steeper and the hauling improved. Rich and I had still not done a lot of big wall climbing, and we soon learned some important lessons. First, we had way, way too much water. Second, we had way, way too much gear. But how can you tell what you’re going to need when you are on the ground looking up a 3000 ft face? The climbing turned out to be quite east aid, with a little hard freeclimbing. We bolted most of the belays, as we knew we would be rapping the route. After eight nights on the wall, Dry Line (5.10 A2+) was established. I should note that it rained every day and that we got pinned for one day during

our descent due to a snowstorm.

            We did a single carry of “stupid heavy” loads back to Overlord. From there, we radioed for a boat pickup at two o’clock the next day. After eating the last of our food, we were on the way home.