Bugaboos – Early Season Trip

The steep Bugaboo Spire is glimmering like a giant diamond, and it is only a few minutes after 5 in the morning. I settle into my sleeping bag even deeper and close my eyes. Another minute. I can feel the slight breeze rocking the tent back and forth like a sailboat. Little steps around us, tell me the pikas and little prairie dogs have woken up from a cold night and are ready to rock.

Those little animals chewed through my mom’s brand new tent’s fly the first day in the camp. But you can’t stay mad at them for too long, they’re too cute.

My mom and I spent a beautiful week in Bugaboo Provincial Park. It is easily one of Canada’s best alpine climbing destinations. All the summits around us required glacier travel and going there in early June made it easier because there was more snow than late July or August. walking on snow early morning or late at night, after freezing overnight was pretty simple compared to crossing the same distance over small moving plate rocks or moving boulders.

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The two highlights for me were the Bugaboo Spire and Crescent Towers.

Standing amidst the towering granite spires of Bugaboo Provincial Park, feeling the crisp mountain air on my face as I prepare for another day. Boiling water from the nearby creek, looking through my food bag to see my plans for breakfast, that I’m really not hungry for first thing in the morning… even though the sun had already reached the campground, the snow is still hard and that makes our approach to the base of Bugaboo spire much easier.

A short scramble / 5.6 solo pitch is required to pass before getting to the section where we rope up. My mind was running like crazy, looking for a single static line jump that I could possibly do in this week of being here. The Bugaboos appear steep and vertical from the frontal view but they really aren’t when you get closer and look from the side or above.

A fun 5.9 route, just hard enough to put some effort into getting to the top, takes us over the northeast ridge of the spire, up to the North summit, and then over to the South summit. We took our time going up, looking at “exits”, and talking a lot. My mom is pretty well convinced I need to start flying a wingsuit at this point, she thinks it’s safer, to go further away from the cliff and provide me with more opportunities to jump in the mountains.

Between climbs, I took moments to pause and soak in the surroundings. I marveled at the vibrant alpine wildflowers, listened to the melodies of chirping birds echoing through the valleys, and felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The majority of the people I talk to think I’m a crazy, adrenaline-driven junkie but the reality is, that every time I climb in the alpine – or BASE jump for that matter, I feel nothing but peace.

Standing on that summit with her, surrounded by breathtaking alpine vistas, I felt a deep connection to the mountain and an immense gratitude for my mom and this journey together.

The way down wasn’t nearly as much fun. It took some route finding and rope coiling. Mostly, we downclimbed the first route that was established on this mountain, well over a hundred years ago (wild, isn’t it?!), combined with a few very short rappels.

Even with the whole week of perfect sun, the weather changes, sudden gusts of wind, and unpredictable rock conditions added an element of unpredictability.

The Best part was reaching the Snowpatch-Bugaboo col, and thinking we were anywhere near the base camp.

This col is notorious for rockfall danger and to get down one has to climb 40-45 degree snow/ice slope with a big bergschrund spanning across at about 1/3 of the way down. Later in the season this bergschrund will likely fully open and the route will become extremely difficult. We felt silly carrying up crampons and ice axes all the way up the Bugaboo spire and down the other side. It would make crack climbing difficult, awkward, and more weighted. Of course, we couldn’t dwell on that thought for too long, it was what it was. Thankfully it appeared like many other people had the same issues. There were 3 rappel points waiting for us, which took us to the middle of the col. It was 10.45 pm at that point, just barely enough light to see the middle of the rope, to reset for another rappel.

We simply had to down-climb the rest, which isn’t easy when slushy snow is turning into ice, shitty approach shoes are falling apart and you’re dehydrated, hungry, and tired. It takes 3 strong kicks each time you slide down your foot and try to make another step, but I got a good rhythm going, after a couple of times.

Reaching the base camp, after hours of arduous down-climbing on rock, snow, and ice, filled me with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. But mostly just hunger.

And truly what made this climbing experience in Bugaboo Provincial Park extraordinary, wasn’t the landscape or the granite – it was being there with my mom.

Read: My Mother – The Hero

As I arrived at Bugaboo Provincial Park, I couldn’t help but be awestruck by the majestic beauty that surrounded me. The granite spires, reaching toward the sky, evoked a sense of wonder and adventure. I felt like I was a 6-year-old Alenka again, standing under Fitz Roy, in complete awe. It was a humbling moment, standing amidst nature’s masterpiece, ready to challenge myself and forge a connection with the mountain. The fact that my mom has been here, over 20 years ago, makes it even more special.