South Face / Schwartz Ledges route
(Summer 2023, 2025)
Above: A local park warden referred to the figures looming overhead in the broken ice sheet here as “Gargoyles”, though I more typically see the term for ice formations formed by different process up top Robson’s summit. Either way — and unlike their counterparts in Gothic Architecture for which they’re named — their menace is real here.
Snapped during another rockfall episode on our return to camp at the RR col (just out of the frame to the left) from Resplendent. Debris trails heading into the schrund suggest the feature has been collapsing for days, likely worsened by a heat dome in the region at the time (August 2023).
My first shot at Robson’s summit put me on top of a late-summer Kain Face when it was a solid wall of ice. The ice-climbing wasn’t technically difficult, though it was sustained and exposed. At the time I only had one solid season of ice climbing under my belt. Progress up the wall had taken longer than expected and a forced summit could lead to a hard choice between a forced overnight up there or dangling off ice and tripping across a crevassed glacier after dark.
So I opted to head back to the col and return with my pad and bag, catch some sleep at the base of the Kain Face and grab the summit with an alpine start. It’s what Lida Frydrychova and Tammy Nolan had just done — I’d met them when I arrived at the RR col from the Patterson Spur the day before.
That was the plan.
Which collapsed with sections of the route while I was on it.
The rock arete near the col had muttered the occasional complaint when I’d traversed it that morning. It had grown to a steady murmer, punctuated with the occasional growl as small sections broke away uncomfortably close to my position on my return. I was relieved to step off the arete back at the col, where I met another group who had just arrived up the Spur.
Not quite an hour after I'd stepped off the arete, hopes that cooler overnight temperatures would calm the arete were dashed in what sounded like an earthquake. We stood and watched in awe as bus-sized sections of the arete I’d just crossed collapsed down the steep face onto the glacier below. Travis (from the group I met) caught a video clip with his phone.1
None of us wanted anything to do with that arete after what we'd just seen. To seal the deal, the region was experiencing a heat dome at the time. Temperatures did not drop and the rumbling continued through the night as the arete further deteriorated. So much for plans to summit. We hiked Resplendant and headed down the next morning.
That was in August two years ago (2023) and my first shot at summiting this rock.
Still, I'd met some folks I'd end up doing a little climbing with a few weeks later, we tagged Resplendent and snapped a few decent captures. I'll include these shots with some beta you might find useful in another page.
Now let's head back to the Schwartz Ledges on the other side of this rock...
Above: snapped from the Visitor Center deck. The roughly 300 meter glaciated saddle joining Little Robson to the rest of the mountain is hidden behind Little Robson's summit in this shot.
I found some disagreement on Little Robson’s location and went with the concensus: this subsidiary joins Robson proper with a glaciated (& crevassed!) saddle, above the hut and just below the Schwartz Ledges.
The hut sits on a ridge that connects Robson with another subsidiary about 900 m further along the ridge from the hut. I gained the hut from this peak on hike to the hut a few years back, there was a register up there. (I didn’t bother with it)
I couldn’t find a name for this peak other than in peakbagger.com’s database, the only source I could find that called it Little Robson and against the concensus. To be fair, my search was by no means exhaustive.
Except for the connecting ridge, the route to the hut is entirely on this subsidiary. I’ll call it “Baby Robson” on this page.
Above: "Baby Robson" (frame left) seen from a scree plateau a few dozen vertical meters below the hut. The dusting of snow and glimmering moisture, enchanting in this shot, would have made for treacherous movement through the more technically demanding terrain above the hut, better suited to mixed tooling in these or worse conditions. Thankfully I had already descended to the hut when the squall hit. The tall cairn is just visible on the crest, center frame.
Below: I snapped Leo in this chimney just a few dozen meters from Robson's summit. We literally climbed out of a cloud here. Quite the experience! I hope this shot captures some of that.
A cellphone-snap from a set of ledges further down from this page’s title snap and from an earlier trip (2023). Being further down from the overhanging glacier and moving carefully between rock features that offer overhead protection dials back the risk associated with moving through here.
Fun route!
Lots of hands on easy fifth, I’d say up to 5.3 if you want to dial it back though you can find plenty of spicier options on tolerable to decent rock. The grade might seem a little light for Leo's chimney snap (above) but that was by choice. There were easier options nearby but we picked the chimney.
It was fun!
The trades run the gamut of mountaineering craft: a little ice & mixed tooling, some slot dodging (or hopping) at a glaciated saddle and of course, plenty of rock and routefinding.
On the flipside, objective hazards also run the gamut.
Solid routefinding & nixing wasted movement are key for this route. I find that some trial-and-error is inevitable with tricky routes I don't know as I’m cut off or cliffed out in pushing through options that don’t work to get to those that do. Sometimes I just can’t see whether an option goes until I try it, pushing until it's clearly not worth the risk or simply doesn't go. That takes time. Three sections were a little trickier on descent: through the cliffbands just above the hut; along the Schwartz Ledges themselves; again through cliffbands near the summit.
While it wasn't exactly T-shirt weather up there, it was warm enough to take the punch out of the 4 pm turnaround we'd set (we summited at 6) as we could have stopped at any time to wait for daybreak. We neared the top of the Schwartz Ledges with the very last of the twilight on our way back down but decided to push through anyway. Descent slowed considerably in comparison to my last trip through here (a trial run before taking a stab at The Wishbone two years before. These ledges are an easier option for a faster and more direct descent from Robson's tougher routes to the summit. "Infinite Patience", climbed by Marc-André LeClerc in "The Alpinist" and first climbed in 2002 by local legend Barry Blanchard, Eric Dumerac, and Philippe Pellet is among them, on the Emperor Face), yet not so bad to stop us from finding our way back to the hut.
We chose ledges close to the top for our return. They were easier to find with our headlamps, we were able to move off the ledges — and out from under the seracs — much sooner and with much less downclimbing.
Spooky.
I caught myself offering a polite "excuse me" as I cautiously stepped past.
Maybe we're a little lean on pics & beta here.
Follow the Berg Lake Trail 1.21 km from the bridge over Robson River on the south end of Kinney Lake to cross another small bridge. Leave the hiking trail a few meters past the bridge to follow a signed equestrian trail. Follow the horse trail for about 200 m, then head north / right through the bush (not too bad here) for about 130m to a scree slope that had at least two large cairns marking the trailhead to the route up to the Ralph Forster Hut (September 2025).
Some pics...
The Berg Lake Trail...
...Robson River & Kinney Lake from the bridge...
...exciting bridge rail, some Robson River & a tree (very nice. No?)...
Snaps looking along where we head off the equestrian trail to the trail to the trailhead and again at the trailhead itself would be helpful. If I think of it next time through I'll grab some pics & circle back 😁
In the meantime, here's a look at the king's south face from the bridge...
Follow the well used trail up to the treeline. There are a couple of chains, the trail’s marked where it’s less obvious higher up. Views open up just about right away as this steep third class trail quickly gains elevation up Baby Robson’s west ridge, roughly parallel the drainage that separates the subsidiary from Robson proper.
Below: Kinney Lake, Robson River and the valley flourish with fall colour. Seen nearing Baby Robson's treeline.
A younger tree from a small grove of Whitebark Pine (rare & endangered!) at the treeline, affected by rust fungus. Robson's summit in the background.
Same whitebark tree but close enough for a look at the seed cone that distinguishes it from a Limber Pine, its less-rare cousin in the White Pine family.
The scene looking towards the hut on gaining the treeline. Caution: earbuds out! Watch & listen for rockfall through this section. The trail's location is marked behind me and remains visible for the first part of the ascent to the hut.
Except for one trip where I moved up the slope to the right to gain Baby Robson’s summit, my usual choice has been to contour around to gain the ridge and then the hut (just visible about a third in from the left on the ridge).
Careful here. On traversing the gulley between the two ridges two years ago, stray, single chunks of rock would fly by with seconds or even minutes in between. They sounded like a heavy propellor and those I could see hit the ground were several kilograms. I mentioned propeller rockfall in the list of objective hazards on this route and didn’t notice them this trip (2025). Perhaps a heat dome at the time (2023) had something to do with it.
I contoured from higher upslope in an earlier push for elevation that trip. Perhaps that was part of the problem. Other than that trip and the jaunt to Baby Robson's summit, I've started the contour to the ridge from here, lower down. Trails (more than one) are on-and-off again though the cairns are obvious. The trail had been well-flagged (ex: just visible in the small grove frame right) this trip.
Below: Here's a look from the hut back at where the route gains the treeline.
Below: Along the route to the hut. The flagging was recent (2025)
Cairn lower down, closer to the treeline. Whitehorn (& the "rubblef***" scree slope from hell) in the background.
There are a few bolted chains & rope through here. You won't them if the rock is dry.
The Tall Cairn (there in 2025) up top the last big headwall before the hut. Seen from the hut in the "View from the Hut" shot above. Move towards Baby Robson for easier options.
Gain the connecting ridge anywhere along its scree slope, then follow it to the hut.
I’d arrived at the park from Calgary in the early evening one trip (2023) and reached the hut near midnight. I remember how good it felt as the hut's phantomlike outline emerged from the darkness in the soft glow of my headlamp.
With just a few minutes of TLC, I cleared out the packrat shit and closed their access (a broken window pane) with a roll of duct tape included with a set of tools up there. The previous tenants worked into the night to find their way back in but I didn’t care: I put in the earbuds and dozed to a mix of Chopin Nocturnes and 80s rock anthems (I'm Gen X 😎). The rickety old shack, helicopter-dropped in place way back in 1970 (also Gen X 😁) was in disrepair at that time but for all its warts, was comfortable and accommodating.
The hut had since had some work, the Jasper section of the ACC had been up here in August3, just a few weeks prior (to September, 2025).
Nice work!
Above: Snapped further down from the hut along Baby Robson's connecting ridge. Too bad the light wasn't better for this shot, the views of the hut and ridge against Little Robson and the glacier are truly incredible.
The hut has had some much-needed work done since I was up here last: a new window and cover; fresh coat of stain; tensioned cables and at least one new tensioner (might need a tweak: it feels a little trapezoidish in there). The hut register details the work.
Particularly salient: several TRs mentioned having to put up with incessant scratching through the night with the previous tenants’ effort to regain entrance to the hut. I noticed it too, when I was here last. A new chickenwire skirt now keeps the packrats out and the nights quiet.
Other than the ascent over Baby R’s summit, keeping movement to easy fifth or easier wasn't too tough, though the direct route up the steeper headwall (yellow arrows in "View from the Hut") might put your routefinding chops to work. I followed trail & cairns to a break in the headwall, though the trail was faint. There were a couple of bolts in there as well — another spot I could grab a pic next time I'm through.
My concerm for the route to the hut is the rockfall when exposed to Baby Robson’s steep west face, particularly when that face was right on top of me but horizoned out of view by the slope I was traversing.
Above: the route (approximate!) above the hut up Little Robson’s cliffbands to an ice ramp that gains the glaciated saddle. Both ramp and saddle are on the far side up top Little Robson and out of view here
Mount Robson has some tough routes. The Schwartz Ledges route — though still fifth class and with more than enough hazards and tricky routefinding to qualify as a technical alpine route — looks like the easier and more direct descent option.
Not the same thing as saying this route is "easy and direct". Just that it's easier and more direct than more challenging routes. I've been on the route a few times and haven't yet had to rappel. The glaciated ramp up top Little Robson isn't so steep that I've felt the need to protect it, even when the ramp has been more ice than snowpack. And the route has a hut. I've started going after some of the tougher routes on this rock and to me, it makes good sense to know this route as a common descent option.
This route's challenge is the routefinding, particularly on descent. The same steep angle that makes breaks in the cliffbands and other route choices easier to spot on ascent horizons them out of sight on the way down. It only gets worse after dark.
My GPS track, though helpful, is no substitute for having already worked through a route's nuance.
Above: reach glacier about ten minutes from the hut. I’ve been able to find decent water anytime I've been through here. Boil or filter the water if you’re not sure about the difference between glacial- and snow melt. I'm on light trail for this shot, though I've descended along the shelf in this shot, closer to the ice.
Above: snapped a little higher up and alongside the toe of the glacier in the last snap. Sections of ice collapse down the face at any time day or night and are a concern on this route.
photo credit: Leo Chung
Above: higher up still, Leo & I looking back at our progress up the cliffbands.
Above: A look back towards Baby Robson and the hut from further up the first cliffbands above the hut. The hut’s roof and the last shot’s ice collapse are (just) visible along the ridge below the glacier. Snapped during the 2023 heat dome, smoke from nearby wildfires was terrible.
Above: A look at Robson’s upper glacier from near Little Robson’s summit, not far from where we step on the glacial ramp to gain the saddle.
Above: An artsy shot from higher up on the first cliffbands after the hut. We’re watching the cloud formation sneak onto our face. This shot makes it look static but over the next few minutes it would grow to cover the face, then join a similar creature creeping up from behind and below to envelop us. I’m more used to this kind of thing but still get spooked. It’s like being hunted. Then caught. I’d watched a 1980 John Carpenter classic with Jamie Lee Curtis & Janet Leigh as a kid & had nightmares. My parents warned me but I watched it anyways, then had to move into their bedroom for the rest of the week. Those poor people.
Above: more “Evil Scree” snapped in 2023. It wouldn’t take my weight and slid when I tried to step onto the ramp from here. And it pushed my crampons’ teeth off the ice just enough to prevent them from biting. I moved across a gentler bench just below the frame of this shot to avoid the scree, then gain and climb the firn on the other side. In 2025 the section was more snowpack ascent, much more accommodating!
Above: Ascending the same ramp a little further up in 2025. No “evil scree” and the snowpack was much more amenable.
Above: Another peek at Baby Robson and the hut from the same 2023 trip as a few shots back, only this time it’s a few hours later on descent. Much of the earlier shot’s wildfire smoke had cleared out for this shot. Still pretty smokey though. I haven't yet had a "clear" trip up here.
I snapped the next two shots of Little Robson's glaciated saddle in 2023’s heat dome with the pack melted back to expose more of what’s lurks below. Not at all the smooth arete it appears to be if there is any snowpack, worse if it’s in the late summer or fall for the fact that any bridging won’t have had the chance to firm up. Unfortunately, that’s when many of us are likely to find ourselves up here.
My probe (an extended ski pole sans basket) punched through a slot on the ridge on my return when it hadn’t on my ascent earlier in the day, wide enough that I couldn’t find the other side.
Above: This chunk of ice is part of a larger glacier that reaches over Little Robson’s saddle. The near wall is permanent ice-cap behind the schrund and safer to traverse. Slots & schrund were tougher to spot with better snowpack in 2025. Bridging quality changed enough through the day (2025) to force a route-tweak on our return. Absolutely worth a poke with a probe!
Above: A look along the saddle from the same 2023 trip. Walking along its crest puts you in the same orientation as the slots, where even a little more snowpack can go a long way towards hiding them (side-by-side comparison coming up). Stay left for a safer traverse here.
In the comparison shot below, wind loading moves the snow around with enough support to hide the schrund and slots in the 2025 shot (right) but not enough to bridge them well. The schrund in plain sight in 2023 (left) was still there in 2025. The slots likely weren't in the exact same location, though it would have been naive to think they weren't lurking below, even more dangerous for the fact we couldn't see them. When we summited by this route in September (2025), bridging that had been supportive enough to cross on our way out had softened enough on our return to want a tweak to our route.
Another concern: a large section of ice looming over the right gully in the 2023 shot is absent in 2025. In the best case, the ice that crashed down the gully would have been limited to what disappears over the gully between the two shots. Yet the shots are two years apart and glacial movement4 likely shoved more ice into that gully than what we see here.
Which brings us to the subject of traversing the Schwartz Ledges themselves. That's up next.
Above: Shots snapped two years apart: during the 2023 heat dome (left) and 2025.
Below: This 2023 snap (below) and the page’s title shot look at the ledges head on. The section looks formidable...
...but the shot's angle has a lot to do with that. As their profile comes into view, the ledges themselves don't look nearly so bad.
(I'm not talking about the menace from above. Different story there, I'll circle back)
When these ledges are clear of snow, solid routefinding and good light will land you on any of several networks of fat, flat ledges that take you all the way to the nose. I could add that it looks possible to keep movement to third class, though I haven't yet ascended nor descended without a handful of fifth-class moves.
Why?
Tricky route finding through here, as with the cliffbands above the hut. I find myself grabbing options that'll go even when I know that more sniffing around would turn something easier. The real menace through this section is the broken ice sheet looming overhead, with sections pushed well past the supporting rock and over our route.
Above: The view up the first exposed couloir on gaining these ledges in 2023.
A few of these shots show how the ice pushes out way out over the supporting rock over the root. If they look spooky, it pales in comparison to being there.
Yet we have two allies here: the rock itself and common sense.
My risk is worse in a couloir with the ice sheet pushing out past its supporting rock up top. The rock wall (right) frame right gains protective overhang as it moves out of the frame until I’m enough on the ridge that any ice &/or rockfall will want to shed away from the ridge’s centerline (& away from your scrambling scribbler!). I only move up when I’m near a centerline and DO NOT MOVE AT ALL until (1) I can spot a set of big, fat, juicy ledges (see the last two shots) that are an easy walk 👉 ALL THE WAY 👈 to the next protective feature, and (2) it’s dead quiet. There is overhead hazard we can't see. No noise means it's unlikely something's already crashing my way.
That’s about it, though I'll mention a few caveats...
Above: A snap from the first nose. The ice still pushes out over the rock but should collapse down the sides. I ascended here, then found another fat set of ledges and walked out from under the glacier. Solid, patient route-finding is the key to these ledges.
Above: As the ledges move into profile, we see that the nose crests are much further out from the ice than they look from head-on. Ice will want to collapse to the sides rather than roll down the centerline. Limit vertical movement to the nose crests, look to connect them with ledges that are an easy walk. I've marked two routes I've used through here (approximate!). Of course, the upper route has NO protection but I found it fast and easy to spot on a headlamp descent.
Above: Comparison snaps of the glacier across five decades. The ledges in the 1975 shot (right) were snapped mid-winter and have more snow below the glacier, where the 2023 shot was snapped during a summer heat dome.
I'd hoped that five decades of shrinkage (1975 on the right5) would have made this section more safe. Recent (2023+) snaps of North Twin's ridge descending to its col with Twins Tower, snaps of the Lower Victoria glacier below Abbot Pass, snaps of the Kain Face, and of course snaps the Athabasca Glacier all show visibly significant retreat in comparison to snaps from even a decade before.
So what about five decades up here?
After correcting for the different lenses to make changes in the glacier's volume over the ledges easier to spot, it's tough to see any shrinkage. What little there is only stands out on stacking these shots. For whatever reason, if there has been any visible retreat here, it's tough to spot in the above comparison snap.
Takeaway: sections of the route are still dangerously exposed to ice collapse.
Above: The view of the ledges (2025) from just a few vertical meters above Little Robson’s glaciated saddle. We see more of the third-class ridge we’ll ascend on the right to gain the ledges in this shot. There is no overhead hazard until we move into the couloir. The title shot's "Gargoyle" is up there on the right.
photo credit: Leo Chung
Above: Gaining the highest ledge shared with edge of the glacier and its towering wall of ice (the page's title shot). Gain the ledges lower down for a safer traverse of these ledges.
If you’re up here (right) you’re higher than you need to be. The glacier is just a few meters behind this shot. Safer ledge options further down buy time in case of a collapse, affording at least some protection we don’t have this close to the notorious wall of ice looming overhead and running the length of this section of the Schwartz Ledges.
Yet we would return this way. It was dark by the time we reached the ledges on our descent and while the headlamps were enough to move, they didn’t illuminate enough terrain for good routefinding.
Not being able to see which sections were exposed to overhead hazard from ice collapse ruled out any benefit to trying to find routes lower down, including our ascent route. My GPS track was worse than useless along the steep wall for reflection and I knew we would move much slower with headlamps, only worsening risk we were already entertaining for moving through exposed sections after dark.
An earlier and more direct traverse of the last section of ledges was the more appealing, if spookier choice.
And it was fun! On my left, the headlamp illuminated the solid wall of overhanging ice rising up into the darkness overhead. I didn't stop. Didn't look up. Out of sight out of mind. I was excruciatingly polite: any time I came into contact, I caught myself offering a polite "excuse me" with a warm smile.
Take another look at this page's title snap. There is no protection from any collapse. This choice walks you along a wall of ice at least 30 meters high overhanging your position that regularly collapses down the face. You might notice that the horn at the top left has already fractured and displaced from the rest of the ice, some quick math6 puts just that chunk at 5 metric tonnes. In case you run out of daylight through here, as we did, alternatives include: set & stick to a turnaround time or bring enough gear for an overnight where you're not exposed to ice or rockfall. Continue when there's enough light to spot a safer route lower down in the morning.
Whether this, or any option this high on the ledges continues to exist even days from now is out of our hands and lands squarely in the hands of the Glacier Gods.
Above: Looking towards The Dome along its west aspect from the same position as the last shot. We’d punched through a ceiling that held a balmy mix of wildfire smoke and humidity below and welcomed the fresh air we would enjoy all the way to the summit. We were in and out of cloud, trading between great visibility and tumultuous skyscapes for the rest of the day. (September 2025)
Above: A look down the first couloir from the base of the title shot’s ice wall. The ledges’ viability is much more apparent from this angle, though we'll need to descend to see which will cliff out. We used the ledge from which I snapped this shot for our return. It runs directly along, and is exposed to the title shot's solid wall of ice but was easy to spot and quick to traverse with headlamps (in 2025, discussed above).
Above: We're through the ledges, out from underneath the glacier's line of fire and on the last ridge we'll ascend all the way to the summit. The title shot's "Gargoyle" and long fin (frame right in that same shot) are visible in the center and lower-right of this shot (respectively). Limiting vertical movement to the nose's ridge nixes overhead hazard, and several viable options are visible from this angle. Spot your route all the way to the next nose or safe spot before walking ledges exposed to overhead hazard. Make sure it's quiet. Then move. Not so bad! (with caveats. Scroll up for those 😁)
Above: Cropped from a shot I snapped with a telephoto from the visitor center's deck.
This route earns its 5.3 in the last set of rock bands just before the summit. For whatever reason, and definitely the exception rather than the rule, I found this section easier to downclimb than ascend. As with the other tricky sections on this route, knowing this section’s nuance saves wasted movement and daylight.
I met the original “evil scree” shortly after gaining this ridge in 2023. It was absent in 2025. Worth a mention though. Where the scree on Little Robson's ice ramp was more obvious, it was tricksier here. It was indistinguishable from the normal stuff, fine until it wasn't. Dangerous. Evil.
It looks like we lose the rock ledge just above mid-frame. Not so. It’s there, just tough to see in the shot (I snapped it from the visitor center with a telephoto).
Also tough to see from this shot: a few times we’d drifted right onto the face for easier terrain to where it looked like we would need to crampon and rope up for glacier movement. Yet each time, returning left landed us on a solid rock ledge we hadn't been able to see from our position, often right at the edge of the ridge’s precipitous west face. We didn’t crampon up until gaining the glacier at the summit, maybe thirty meters of a 50’ firn wall.
Above: Snapped higher up on the cliffbands, maybe a few dozen vertical meters from the summit. The rock is OK but the sprinkling of dust and scree on the hard, narrow ledges, the slight downward slope angle (also along Whitehorn's summit ridge) and slip penalty need careful movement. We looked for breaks and rougher sections and struck a bargain: we would climb a little steeper in exchange for better and more reliable rock.
Above: Leo's chimney is steeper but climbs better than the faces on either side. I think the chimney would protect better as well. If you're not quite superconfident scrambling mid-fifth, a small rack and 30m of rope would avoid being turned back this close to the summit. Or worse, forcing movement that's maybe a little out of your comfort zone for moving unroped. Oddly enough, I found these sections easier to downclimb than ascend, when generally I find the reverse is the rule.
Above: On gaining the summit ridge I could barely even see this far. Fortunately the cloud would clear enough for some tolerable views. On another note: it was to be an anniversary celebration snap of my two Vipers, a happy couple since I bought them new in 2015. This would be the last time they would be seen together, one would tumble into they abyss on my descent. 😞
Above: Leo gaining the last few meters to Robson's summit ridge (hence the smile)
Above: After a few minutes, the clouds cleared just enough for this artsy gargoyle shot. Robson's summit is up on the right, just a few meters ahead. The tracks show that at least one other party has been up here recently.
Above: Summit! Robson's summit ridge descends into the depths (heading northwest) frame right.
(😁summary!😁)
photo credit: Leo Chung
Above: Summit snap. Leo gets these with a camera on what looks like a hiking pole. The camera's software disappears itself and voila. Cool!
Routefinding was crucial. Spotting moves well ahead — particularly through the ledges themselves — saved ruling out options the hard way. And it’s safer! If I can backtrack, being cliffed out is only annoying. If I can’t find “back”, I’m more than just annoyed. I might start forcing moves. It’s the only way I can explain some of the rap stations I see through there. INSANE!
My GPS was a mixed bag (2025), even with my own track! GPS reflection was problematic through the very couloirs and steep faces where downclimbing mid-fifth in the dark with a headlamp had me reaching for my GPS for help. Issues with the device rendered it useless through the ledges and lower cliffbands all the way back to the hut after dark. I was thankful for routefinding chops I’d picked up from my pre-GPS days. Otherwise we would have had to stop and wait for daybreak.
We could have started earlier. The shorter days (early September) could excuse a 6 or 7am start. But we weren’t moving until 8:30 (🤭), starting the day with less than twelve hours of daylight. Even dialing the start back to 6 would likely have nixed the need for headlamps on our descent.
The fun climbing side mission all the way to the glacier on our ascent earned this page’s cool title shot, and standing next to that formidable ice wall was incredible. I was looking for White Walkers up there! Yet that jaunt ate up a goodly chunk of daylight. Folks who have climbed with me know I have a proclivity to chase the occasional spicy detour. I don’t mind moving around in the dark, even in challenging terrain, though I’d rather not. We deliberately blew the 4 pm turnaround knowing what it would bring, also knowing that conditions were OK for a night out. Assuming that most folks prefer daytime movement, I’d suggest either setting and sticking to a turnaround time or packing for a night out. And leave the ice wall to the Night’s Watch and the cute blonde with the dragons, unless you actually plan to traverse that close to the glacier. (Which really only makes sense after dark. See above for the relevant yap)
I'm waiting to hear back from "Travis". I'll bang his name in here when I do.
The Cleveland Clinic has a super page on the stuff: https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/10655-poison-plants-poison-ivy—poison-oak—poison-sumac
Their Facebook page has more info. https://www.facebook.com/alpineclubcan/posts/did-you-know-that-theres-a-hut-halfway-up-mount-robsonthe-ralph-forster-hut-sits/1089351856641924/
See "Measuring glacier velocity" for a discussion of glacial velocity with references at https://www.antarcticglaciers.org/glaciers-and-climate/observing-and-monitoring-glaciers-and-ice-sheets/measuring-glacier-velocity/
John Peterson, from a TR posted in Mountain Project: https://www.mountainproject.com/photo/107936450/schwartz-ledges-in-1975-we-had-just-rapped-down-in-2-raps-at-the-right-side-of-t
Leo (bottom of the title shot) would stand 1.87 m in this shot with boots & helmet. Assuming the same volume as a cube whose side is just a little taller than Leo, say 2 m for easy math, and glacial ice density at a conservative 830 kg/m3 (Cuffey and Paterson, 2010) we get (2m)3 x 830 kg/m3 = 4.98 metric tons of ice. Ouch.