Hardwear Sessions

I try to make out a silhouette of Mt. Snowdome. No matter how hard focus my eyes I can't see a horizon anywhere. It all looks like a mess of indistinguishable white. How could a 3451 meter mountain just vanish from sight? I know the general direction of the mountain so I keep slogging ahead. I let my mind wander to pass the time.

Should I have called my mom before I left? Did I bring enough food? If I get "benighted" tomorrow and miss another day of work, would my boss fire me? I wonder if the serac is feeling merciful towards me. I wonder how loaded the cornice is becoming with all the fresh snow. I hope the wind lets up.

As I try to make out a skyline I get lost in the stars above. Despite the wicked wind and the insufferable spindrift blowing in my face, the stars are beautiful tonight. I spot a shooting star and say a small prayer.

It's now 6 am. I still can't see the skyline. My partner and I discuss our game plan. Trying to find the base of the route is deemed an impossible endeavor at this point. Best to wait for daybreak. I pull out my sleeping bag, and crawl inside searching for warmth.

I slowly open my eyes to a new morning. I don't remember falling asleep, but evidently I did. As my eyes focus, I still can't make out the mountain. Just white swirls blowing around. It's not going to happen. This will be my 4th failed attempt at a route on the Columbia Icefields. When will I succeed? Maybe I should just give up. I hate this game. I close my eyes and fall back to sleep.

When I arrive back in Calgary, I get a call from my friend Katie. She and some friends are going skiing at Lake Louise tomorrow. She's inviting me to join. Skiing would be fun. I quickly agree.

A smile spreads across my face as I weave down the slope. The snow is dumping and it is grand. I feel the rush of speed. On the lift back to the top I share my delight with the rest of the gang. A pitcher of beer is ordered with lunch. We clang our glasses together and bring in the new ski season. I go to bed that night tired and feeling satisfied.

Today however, I find myself looking at the weather forecast for the Columbia Icefields. I am looking at maps and refining my approach. I am staring at pictures of the north face of Mt. Snowdome. I had hoped a fun day of resort skiing would keep me content. There was beer, cute girls, and fresh powder. Mt. Snowdome is desolate, and instills fear. There are no cute girls. There are no jugs of beers. Still I feel compelled to return. I fear that until I climb that blasted thing I will feel no contentment.

I fear that this is the curse of the alpinist.