Trial and error, success and failure

It's been a rocky road for me in the past three weeks. Those of you who read this blog and turn green with envy at the girl who chases powder snow and sunny rock climbs all over the continent can finally feel that there is some justice in the world. Yup, it's not always all laughing, wine and smiles for Jasmin. Despite the fact that I have been backcountry skiing since I was a very young child, have had the good fortune to apprentice numerous accomplished ski and mountain guides, and spent the entire winter in preparation for my ACMG Assistant Ski Guide exam, I somehow managed to fail the exam. I am still not sure exactly how this happened, although I recognize that I made some mistakes during the exam. I guess I expected it would be at least somewhat similar to an exam in university, where you might get a few questions wrong and not get 100%, but it would take many many wrong answers to get a failing grade. As I now am painfully aware, ACMG guides exams are not set up this way. Instead you get one mark in each of several categories each day of the exam. That mark is either a P (Pass), M (Marginal) or F (Fail). Based on my experience in the exam, it doesn't really make a difference how many decisions that you make in a day that deserve a P, if you make one that deserves an M or F that is the mark you get in that category for the day. I managed to make a few to many mistakes in a single category and nearly no mistakes in any of the other categories, and thus these mistakes resulted in a failing grade in that category and since you are required to pass all the categories to pass the exam, I failed. Ouch. Here are some photos from that fateful week in the Adamants:

One of the four errors that contributed to failing my exam. I used my "judgement" when choosing how to manage the risk that this cornice posed to my group by deviating the uptrack (line near the bottom of the photo) lower on the underlying 20 degree slope than I would have had the cornice not been there. Based on my observations that the pieces of cornice that had calved off had obeyed the laws of physics and stayed on the nearly flat area where they landed, I felt it was HIGHLY unlikely that the whole thing would spontaneously break off (on this calm and cool day) and roll over the soft, powdery, flat area and manage to take out all four of us simultaneously on the uptrack. The examiner, however, thought otherwise, and I received an M in risk management for not spacing out our group and warning them of this hazard. Keep in mind that avalanche hazard was not an issue on this low angle slope (the examiner agreed with this).Just thought this little anecdote might prove useful for those of you heading into guides exams in the future.

Two views of where my decision making pushed things over the edge on the final day of the exam. The upper photo shows a CMH heli ski run called Alpina that had been skied fairly heavily on March 23. Several avalanches can be viewed in the upper photo, that were the result of control using explosives by CMH staff on March 21. The lower photo is taken on one of several sustained clear periods we experienced on March 27, an otherwise poor-visibility day. The plan for the day had been to head UP Alpina to climb the north ridge on Triangle Peak then return to the Goldstream Neve via what had been described by the examiners in the meeting the previous night as a short, straightforward snow slope. When we were well on our way up Alpina via a crusty, benchy route that passed near the avalanches seen in the lower right of the upper photo, radio communication with another group in the exam who was attempting to complete the same trip in reverse revealed that the ridge on Triangle was unsafe due to avalanche hazard on a steep snow slope on the ridge. At this point it was up to me to decide how the day should proceed, and at this point, the visibility was quite good. As I continued upwards, I felt that skiing down Alpina in the vicinity of the heli ski tracks would be reasonable based on the fact that the 30 cm of new snow was low density and the wind effect was minimal at the elevations we would be skiing, and that the area had been tracked heavily by heli skiers a few days prior (shown in the upper photo). Additionally, the ski quality on that aspect was far superior to the sun-affected snow we had climbed up. As we took our skins off, the visibility began to deteriorate rapidly, and I hesitated and told a few jokes, waiting for things to improve. I skied the first pitch, down the crest of a low-angle moraine with marginal visibility (red line in the lower photo) and then began to traverse at the elevation I had deemed necessary (2300 m) to hit the Alpina run. At the location of the red dot in the photos, I stopped traversing because it was apparent the terrain was getting steeper (it had been low angle, benchy features to there) and the visibility had notably deteriorated since we had taken our skins off. I stopped the group on the crest of a roll (a safe location) and sidestepped towards the edge of the slope to get a better look at what was immediately below me. I now know exactly where I was because I could see the small rock which was above the cliff (shown in the lower photo) directly below me. At this point I wasn't exactly sure where I was given the horrible visibility, so I pulled out the run photo and the map to have a closer look. The examiner immediately approached me and asked "are you sure about this, I don't want to get avalanched" and after thinking for a moment I said, "no I don't think the visibility is good enough, let's put on our skins and climb back to where we started. After 15 minutes of skinning we reached our transition point, peeled the skins, and skied down the crusty slopes that we had climbed up. According the the examiner, my error correction came too late and that it was too bold of me to even attempt to ski Alpina given the poor visibility. I was given an F in Risk Management for this decision as well as an M in Mountain Sense. Here again, just trying to give folks an idea of what the whole exam experience is like since I guess I didn't really get it myself.

Mt. Sir Sandford (background, left)

More pretty mountains, puke.

Ross Berg, our awesome camp manager posing with Mt. Sir Sandford

I know that things could be way worse, though, and that this will only make me more resilient, humble, stronger and a better guide. That said, it's a f#$*ing expensive, disheartening and really time consuming way to learn a lesson. It's so hard not to feel bitter at the ACMG and the examiners and most of all, at myself. But all I have to do is think about a my friends and family members who have suffering injuries/illnesses or lost loved ones and it puts my little sliver of suffering into perspective, BIG TIME. What I really hope for is that my brain will stop rehashing and reliving the exam over and over and over again each time it is not occupied (like at 3:00 AM when I am trying to sleep or when I am taking my dog for an otherwise peaceful walk in the morning).

One this is for sure, I am unbelievably fortunate to have amazing friends and family who have generously offered their support, compassion and comraderie and shoulders to sob on (Mandoline!!!) at a time when I needed it most.

Enough of my online therapy session. After the exam (and before I found out that I failed... they wait 2 weeks to tell you, presumably so you don't go ballistic on the examiners and slash the $2000 group dome tent with your ice axe) I boogied home to Squamish and basked in a glorious week of doing what ever the f#$% struck my fancy. I did some yoga, some climbing, some ski touring, lots of socializing and spent lots of quality time running with my dog Benny who I had hardly seen all winter. This fantastic homecoming week ended with an all-ladies day on the Spearhead Traverse, a classic 35 km, 6500 ft. vertical horseshoe ski tour that weaves through the spectacular peaks and glaciers that separate Blackcomb and Whistler. I had done the traverse several times a while back, but it was a first for Kinley and Mandoline which made it really special. It was a spectacular day of sunny skies, laughs and sillyness, and even some sweet powder turns. Mandoline blew me away with her fitness and determination, she has really only backcountry skied a few times! That night we celebrated our big day of skiing with a night on the town in Squamish, partying at a staff party at the fantastic new Zephyr Cafe with dancing to the fantastic beats of our friend DJ Sheila.

Mandoline and Kinley grease up with sunscreen for our big, sunny day

Girls' day on the Spearhead... YAY!

Needless to say, the next morning was slow going, but after US border guards stole $80 worth of dog food from my car and hassled me as usual (but my dog puked on their floor... HA HA HA bastards) Mandoline and I rolled into the camping area near Smith Rocks in the wee hours of the next morning and my life as a rock climber slowly, creakily, weakly resumed. I have been down here in Smith Rocks for four days and am slowly remembering how to climb. I am loving the simple life of being on the road, camping, living in the dirt and filth and getting in tune to the rhythm of waking up when the birds chirp, going to bed when it gets dark, eating when I am hungry and climbing until my arms feel like they will fall off. Mandoline has climbed in Smith Rocks quite a bit, so is guiding me around the moderate circuit and I am inspired by my belay time while she sends 5.12s that I am not even fit enough to top-rope at this point. It's amazing how after a few days on the rock, it all starts to come back together mentally though. I have stopped checking my knot after every move up a route (not touching rock for 4.5 months makes me just a wee bit paranoid) and I feel ready to take some whippers on something harder.

Prince Benny basking in the sun after a LONG winter of powder hounding

Living the good life at Smith Rocks... yes there was wine involved

It looks like the skis are put away for another year and in a few weeks I will be heading to Spain to really whip myself back into shape (oh... and drink wine, eat lots of great food, nap in the sun and spend some quality time with my man). I am sure that soon I will stop feeling nauseous when I think about the guide's exam, and I can start building up my mental fortitude to try the exam again next winter, but until then, I am going to have a lot of fun. So get ready to feel envious some more, or better yet, come and hang out with me in Squamish, Spain or wherever else the quest for sunny rock climbs takes me.

Mama Mia!

Because I celebrated International Woman's Day with a broken down car and mooching off my sister for rides and a place to stay in Calgary while my car was being repaired, it seemed important that I spend some quality time with some quality women in the mountains to set my feminine vibe for 2009 off on a better track. Also, being faced with the fact that my upcoming ACMG ski guide exam would be composed of exactly 11 boys and 2 girls occupying a tent camp in the Selkirks, I was craving a bit of estrogen-therapy.

My mother Lynda is an avid backcountry skier who has been at it since the days of leather ankle boots, ultra-long, ultra skinny skis, gaiters, wool shirts and pants. These days she sports her fat skis, dynafit bindings, AT boots, schoeller pants and makes it all look pretty darn easy. This winter she was working hard as a pastry chef for the heli-skiing company Canadian Mountain Holidays (CMH) so she didn't get to ski tour too much, but don't feel too bad for her because she did get to experience what many of us lower-income folks only dream of; heli-skiing. It all sounds pretty glamourous really, making towering and exotic desserts and fragrant fresh breads all week, and being swooped around in a helicopter on the weekends when there aren't quite enough guests to cram the heli full. We met up in Revelstoke at the essential Modern Bakery for some brekkie and java before driving up to Roger's Pass for a weekend of powder skiing. She humoured me and let me guide her around since I was practicing for my ski guide exam. I broke some trail, read the map, and mostly tried to find us some untracked snow, which is getting more and more tricky on a high hazard, clear and sunny weekend day at Roger's Pass. We got to witness some avalanches triggered by explosives across the highway from us, and even saw some folks nearby trigger an avalanche large enough to bury a person. Exciting times in the mountains! We ran into some friends at the Glacier Park Lodge and enjoyed some beers and dinner with them before retiring to our room to do it all over again. Yes, I am really lucky to have such a cool mother!

Mum touring with Macdonald, Avalanche, Eagle, Uto, and Sir Donald keeping her company

Like mother like daughter

The next phase of my women's ski week was spent with my dear friend Kitt Redhead. Kitt is an accomplished skier and mountain woman, and an ACMG assistant ski guide who has worked for a variety of heli, cat and touring operations and has completed all sorts of huge ski adventures in Norway, Alaska, France, and of course, Canada. Kitt and I were roommates in Squamish for a few summers and got along famously, but the last few years while I was living in Salt Lake we lost track of each other a bit. Kitt's most recent HUGE adventure is motherhood, with the birth of her son Thoren four months ago. She makes the transition from guiding to motherhood look graceful and effortless, but even she craves ski touring days. After graciously putting up with me crashing at her place in Revelstoke while I prepared for my ski exam, we agreed we had to do a ski day together, so we left Thoren with his Dad and a stash of breastmilk for the day, and we boogied up to Roger's Pass. The snow was a bit heavy, but the day was fantastic all the same. We hardly even noticed time passing as we ambled up the skin track, chatting away and enjoying each other's company and just being out in the beautiful mountains and fresh air. We were fully on the same page in terms of where we felt safe to ski, and it was great to have some feedback from a woman who I know and respect who has gone through the ski guide's exam that I am about to do.

Kitt enjoying the mountains

Where the f@#% are we?

Kitt shredding the waterfall gnar

Another ski touring party at Roger's Pass (yawn)

Tomorrow the culmination of my winter begins. I am flying in to Moberly Pass, in the Adamants for my ACMG assistant ski guide exam. I am really looking forward to spending a week in what sounds like cool ski terrain with a bunch of motivated, psyched people and some ace ACMG examiners. The nerves haven't got me yet, but there's plenty of time for that, like when I am leading my group up through crevasse-riddled glaciers or down through slopes with numerous persistent weak layers lurking and waiting to avalanche me.

Little sister to the rescue

A respite of work mid-February resulted in a mini-road trip to the Rockies with Evan where we froze our fingies off trying to be ice climbers. Damn, that sport is tough when you are not used to it. I had the biggest fear paralysis while leading the ice equivalent of 5.6. We did do some beautiful routes and by the end of three days I was actually kind of digging it. I definitely have a lot of respect for all the friends I have who are can ignore the cold, the fear and the insanity of it all to become really solid, strong ice climbers.

Next phase of the winter was a week at Sorcerer Lodge where I was cooking for guide Brian Webster and his guests along with the assistant ski guides Josh and Garth as well as the hut custodian Dave. It was a spectacular week, beginning with blue skies and sun but a dearth of the prized Selkirk pow pow. Midweek brought a 60 cm dump and some spicy avalanche conditions, and by Friday we were back to sunny skies, spectacular views, and a fresh sheet of snow to wiggle our way down. The guides and guests were great help in the kitchen, meaning that I was able to ski a lot and learn about guiding by observing Brian, Josh and Garth guide the group through the sometimes complex glaciated terrain surrounding the lodge. We skied on the Nordic Glacier and bagged Escargot, swooped down Lower Wedding Bells, schralped Lee's Trees and schlaedeled the Perfect Glacier.

Heading up the Perfect Glacier

More perfection

Party on the Perfect Ridge

Perfect pow on the Perfect Glacier

Nordic Peak looking gnarly

From Sorcerer I went straight to Battle Abbey for round two of a practicum there. The first few days went as they should; great skiing, beautiful snow and fantastic food prepared by Eileen. A midweek medical emergency meant that one of the guides and the custodian had to be unexpectedly flown out. Luckily for us, there were more than a few accomplished physicians in the group of guests, and the first aid and evacuation went relatively smoothly, and I have to say, I learned a ton. The week proceeded relatively smoothly, with still more snow, some fabulous touring days to Little Ahab and Typee Peak, and great turns down runs like Steepness (AKA Sweetness) and Kitchen Envy.

Omoo Peak

Gobble gobble (Eileen makes great food)

Moby Dick from the summit of Typee Peak

Skinning up to Schooner Pass - John Goodman Photo

On the summit of Little Ahab - John Goodman photo

Luxury lunch break - John Goodman photo

Typee Peak - John Goodman photo

On Typee Peak with the Wrong Glacier in the background

After flying out of Battle Abbey I managed to see Evan for a few hours in Lake Louise before he left to guide the Wapta in ball-freezing-off conditions. This morning I was happily tootling down the Trans-Canada to visit my sister in Calgary when my trusty, dusty, rusty subaru lost power and died. My sister drove to Canmore to pick me up and it reminded me when she rescued me in Moab out of the City Market parking lot with a mountain of gear around me when my relationship with my climbing partner/boyfriend/ride from Yosemite exploded. Where would the world be without our little sisters to look after us?

More Pics from Battle Abbey

These were taken by photographer, web designer and custodian extraordinaire Jeff Glynn. Check him out at http://www.visualcafe.ca. And by the way, if you are interested in checking out these slopes for yourself, go to www.battleabbey.ca.

The 7 week itch

I am in the middle of my 7th straight week of ski touring. It’s been an eventful stint… crazy new years eve costume parties, record breaking avalanches, several mega-classic ski tours ticked at Roger’s Pass, the successful completion of the final ACMG ski guide training before the exam in the spring and the best kitchen dance party ever at Battle Abbey, a spectacular ski touring lodge in the eastern Selkirks. This week I am back at Valhalla Mountain Touring, hoping my quads will see me through and that the 7 week itch won’t affect my relationship to ski touring the way the 7 year itch spoils marriages.

To prepare for my ski guide training, I met with fellow guide candidates Erika and James, as well as Erika’s husband Scott at Roger’s Pass. Great visibility and growing confidence in the snow stability meant that in four days we managed to do several really beautiful and classic ski tours including the Young’s Traverse, the Tupper Traverse and a trip from the Asulkan Valley into Loop Brook via Dome Notch. Here are a few photos from our adventures:

Heading up onto the toe of the Illecillewaet Glacier

James on the Summit of Young's Peak

Erika heads up the Dome Ridge

Next came my ACMG ski guide training. Didn't get the camera out much during that week, was too busy digging out corners with my ski poles to attain the perfect flowing uptrack, wandering out onto great, wide, white glaciers during dizzying whiteouts with only a compass bearing to guide me (GPS's are apparently to add weight and bulk to your pack), and trying to perfect my guide's downhill skiing technique (you must be technically superior, yet never let yourself have too much fun lest your focus stray from the safety of your guests). Mostly managed to have a good time; the bottle of wine my gal pal Erika and I consumed during the evening guide's meetings helped matters greatly. 45 minute long debates over whether stability below treeline should be rated as good with areas of fair or fair with areas of good are far more entertaining when you've got a good buzz on. The good news is they are letting me take the exam in the spring, which means the only thing between me and being a certified ski guide is passing an exam that roughly 50% of candidates fail. Sweet.

Soft slabs on surface hoar in the Loop Brook Valley

ACMG examiner Marc Piche gives Erika some feedback

The morning after the guide training ended, I beetled down the hill into Golden to hop on a helicopter to Battle Abbey for a practicum (basically I tag along with the two guides Felix and Robson... they show me their finely honed guide craft and maybe let me hack in an uptrack or two). After waiting a day to fly in due to bad weather I finally arrived at the Abbey, a lodge steeped in the history of ski touring. Surrounded by granite spires, steep valley walls and tumbling glaciers, Battle Abbey is nothing short of spectacular. After two short days of reveling in the easy routine of a practicum student, a family emergency meant that the cook had to fly out and I had to take her place. Luckily for me, I have done a fair bit of lodge cooking in the past, otherwise it might have been a pretty stressful week. However, the great help I received from the guides and the custodian (they basically made sure I had enough scotch so that I didn't care whether the meal was great or merely edible) made the week go smoothly. I even managed to ski a fair bit, and checked out some of the really amazing terrain Battle Abbey has to offer. The guests were great sports, they didn't seem to mind too much that their cook was suddenly trying to ski as much as them, rather than stay home and make fondue and ganache and such things. We closed the week with a bang; big dance party in the kitchen lit by strobing headlamps strategically placed behind full juice jugs for that in dah club vibe. It was the best party I've been to in awhile; I wasn't in bed until 3AM! I guess that shows how mellow my life is most of the time, I have to go way out in the mountains to find a party worth staying up late for.

Robson climbing through burnt forest

Battle Abbey

Jeff cleans the green room underneath Mt. Butters

Standing on King's Landing with Mt. Moby Dick behind my head

Ashley leads the troups up through the burnt forest

Now I am back at home at Valhalla Mountain Touring. My liver has stopped aching and a few solid nights of sleep followed by some dreamy powder skiing has set me right. Next week I am off to the rockies for some kicking and scratching... that should be good for a laugh.