Mount Logan attempt

Mount Logan (GNP) attempt

June 12, 2010

Mountain height:         2816 m (made it to 2782 m)
Elevation gain:            1200 m
Ascent time:                11:20
Descent time:              12:00

Snowshoe mountaineering with Mark.

There are several Mount Logan’s in North America. One really BIG one in the Yukon and lots of wee, little ones spread out around other parts of the continent. Lacking the significant amount of time and resources required for MOUNT LOGAN, Yukon, we settled for an attempt of Mount Logan, in Glacier National Park, Montana; the sentence, “Few peaks in the park can surpass this one for spectacular vistas of glaciers and vast snowfields sparkling amid sheer cliffs, far above the broad green valleys”, from Gordon Edwards climbing guidebook, providing all the necessary motivation to attempt this particular mountain.

Initially we were concerned about making the 35 km roundtrip in June, when the area is still snowbound. However, we fortuitously bumped into a man at the trailhead, who said he had completed an ascent a week earlier, primarily on skis. Luckily we had brought along our trusty snowshoes and so we set off towards Gunsight Lake at 9 am.

An initial 200 vertical metres of elevation loss was not the ideal way to start the day, but the trail to the lake was almost completely snow-free and very easy to follow. A small waterfall near the beginning and some spectacular views of Mounts Jackson, Blackfoot, and Logan kept things interesting along the way. Gunsight Lake was still mostly frozen, but wonderfully back-dropped by snow-covered peaks. The sky above could not have been a more beautiful blue.

Crossing the outlet of Gunsight Lake was also an interesting and unique experience. The planks of the bridge had been removed, but the overhanging cables remained. As many know, Mark and I detest river crossings more than any other aspects of hiking/mountaineering; we’ll do anything to avoid getting our feet wet. So we put on our harnesses, attached a pulley system to the cable, and sailed with ease, upside down, hand-over-hand, across the waterway – just like they do in the movies! Well, not quite – Mark went first, only to find out it was an arm-workout-from-hell. I learned a little from his difficulties and went over as fast as possible, trying not to lose momentum. Still, my arms felt like they were going to fall off when I reached the other side.

We then resumed the trip on snowshoes. The next section involved gaining a fair amount of elevation on the lower slopes of Mount Jackson’s north side, before losing most of it once the intervening bush disappeared. This second big elevation loss of the day would prove to be our undoing many, many, many hours later.

At several points of the trip we discussed downgrading to a closer objective, but the surrounding scenery was (unfortunately) absolutely breath-taking. That has always been our Achilles Heel and in the past has led to more than one epic day out. As such we continued on, marveling at the phenomenal views of the Jackson, Blackfoot, Logan trio.

The one change we did make was our ascent route. Originally we had planned to follow the “normal” route via the north ridge. Due to the significant remaining length of that route, a switch to the southwest ridge seemed prudent. The helpful individual at the parking lot described the summit block as low 5th class from the southwest - seemed reasonable….onward and upward!

Our 4 pm summit ETA swiftly passed by and turned into 5, then 6, then 7. At this point, a very long day was a forgone conclusion. Progress was slow, but the scenery improved by leaps and bounds for every 10 metres of elevation gained. The southwest ridge soon appeared above. Mark then led us up a 40 degree snow gully (the sky here an unreal, deep shade of blue) and then it was a short slog to the ridge and yet another unbelievable view. Mount Stimson, one of six, 10,000 footers in the park, stood proudly to the southwest, with a host of colourful peaks further north. Blackfoot Mountain suddenly took on a profile that was as aesthetically-pleasing as anything I’ve seen in my life.

Only the daunting appearance of the summit block ahead was cause for some apprehension. Arriving at the base, we first tried to traverse the west side of the block to complete the ascent via the north ridge (normal route). When this proved to be too risky we tackled the southwest ridge, attempting to avoid vertical sections of loose rock by going to either side of the ridge. This allowed us to gain elevation, to a point only 34 vertical metres short of the summit. Unfortunately, the last section was too much for me: too steep, too exposed, and too late in the day. Had we arrived there an hour or two earlier, we could have taken our time and found a way up. However, that was not the case and at 8:20 pm, 4 hours, 20 minutes after our intended summit arrival time, we called it a day and started down.

The descent started off remarkably well. Firstly, the sinking sun made for some outstanding shadow scenery on the east side of Blackfoot. We were then able to glissade a good portion of the ascent slope. All seemed to be going well, as the sun descended below the horizon, granting us reprieve from 10 straight hours of full-on, sun exposure (both of us had slapped on three thick layers of 60-block sunscreen in that time). We were both very tired, but still moving at a decent pace. That was until we had to gain the lost elevation back up to Gunsight Lake.

To put it mildly, that 300 odd, vertical metres of elevation gain was excruciating beyond all my imagination! Exhausted and sleep-deprived from the 11+ hour ascent, the significant horizontal distance already covered, and now a total vertical elevation gain approaching 2000 m, I could barely walk ten steps without feeling like a bleak and gray shade of death. Mark wasn’t exactly doing cartwheels either! It took an eternity to gain that elevation back. Throughout there were many verbal queries about why we do this kind of extreme stuff. “Never again” was uttered by both of us more than once.

We then descended back down to the plankless bridge and collapsed on the ground to take an extended break before the strenuous task of getting back across the water outlet. At 4:15 am, the river was again crossed, employing the same technique that we used about 17 hours earlier. The mind-numbing hike back to the car was interrupted on multiple occasions by our need to sleep for a few minutes. It took us 4 hours to return a distance that took only 2.25 hours on the way in. We arrived back at the car at 8:20 am, almost 24 hours after leaving.

Surprisingly, the 200 m of elevation gain at the end of the trip was not a repeat performance of the aforementioned “gain of grey death”. However, that brought the total elevation gain for the day to about 2200 m; a far cry from the 1200 m we were expecting. Given that those 2200 vertical metres also covered a horizontal distance of 35 km, with half of that on snowshoes, it was not difficult to see why this trip instantly moved into the #1 spot of “all-time most exhausting trips”.

Epilogue: Several days after the trip, fully recovered from the physical trauma, I looked over some of the photos and it became quite clear why we continue to attempt trips like Logan. Summit or no summit, the scenery and views throughout the day were just phenomenal. While the physical and/or mental suffering of that type of trip quickly fades into an inconsequential aside, the experience of beautiful, far-reaching views and unbelievable scenery seems to be as vivid and real days, weeks, and even years after event.

I can’t imagine the mountain experience to be summed up any better than in the following words of the late, great mountaineer Anatoli Boukreev:

“Mountains are not stadiums where I satisfy my ambitions to achieve. They are cathedrals, grand and pure, the houses of my religion. I approach them as any human goes to worship. On their altars I strive to perfect myself physically and spiritually. In their presence I attempt to understand my life, to exorcise vanity, greed, and fear. From the vantage of their lofty summits, I view my past, dream of the future, and with unusual acuteness I experience the present moment. That struggle renews my strength and clears my vision. In the mountains I celebrate creation, for on each journey I am reborn.”

From Above the Clouds by Anatoli Boukreev

A red argillite waterfall near the beginning of the route

Massive Mount Jackson makes an appearance

A closer look at Jackson

Going-To-The-Sun Mountain

Mount Logan (left) and the surrounding area; the much smaller-looking peak at the far right is Blackfoot Mountain,
which is in fact about 100 m higher than Logan

Approaching Gunsight Lake; Jackson to the left

Gunsight Lake

Reflections in the lake

Same as above

Mark gracefully glides over the waterway

My turn

A very impressive section of Blackfoot Mountain

Mark crosses a slope that obviously has seen some avalanche activity; Fusillade Mountain behind

Open onto open slopes, with Logan still a fair distance away

Looking back at Jackson

A big, colourful rock

Mark approaches the upper bench, with Fusillade behind

Jackson again

Kilometres and kilometres of vast snowfields

Almost-a-Dog Mountain

More vastness

The hanging glacier on Blackfoot

Getting closer

Almost-a-Dog and Dusty Star Mountain to the left

More cool scenery on Blackfoot

Same as above; the summit of Blackfoot (near the centre) is still looking small and innocuous

Finally gaining some elevation on Logan; now Blackfoot (far left) is looking higher than Jackson (far right); Jackson is the highest

Mark approaches the 40 degree snow gully on the left

Mark in the gully

Near the top

One of the first things you see upon topping out of the gully is this interesting scene;
the peak on the left is a low outlier on Logan's south ridge; much higher Blackfoot stands to the right