It was Miserable and Cold, but at Least We Didn’t Summit

La Pomme d’Or – The Golden Apple. Situated in cold and mysterious Quebec, this 1,200-foot ice face is daunting, featuring hard, Grade 5 ice, and a mixed rock and ice pitch. It has turned into a bit of a “great white whale” for me – two attempts have yet to get me to the summit, after a total shutdown in 2018 and a near miss this time. Perhaps the third time will be the charm next year.

Last month, I had a small window between my corporate events, and weather looked promising, so I rallied up a team and we converged on Canada. With me were my old buddy Eric Alexander, with whom I have climbed Everest and peaks around the world, and a new guy – our “rope gun” – Joseph Hobby, a young, fast, motivated guide from Utah who I have been ice climbing with all winter.

Fortunately, all the variables were lining up: Cold, stable weather; a wet winter; and, most importantly, the park in which the climb is situated had opened up the access road that took so much time on the approach last year. Previously, we had been forced to snowmobile 6 miles, de-board at a locked gate, ski 6 miles, and then finally do a 1-hour sweaty thrash through willows and snow up the slope to the climb. With the long ski in eliminated, we could start a bit earlier and arrive fresher for the hard climbing. But, the weather had other plans…

We left before dawn, abandoning the comfort of our lovely rustic accommodations at the Auberge le Relais des Hautes Gorges. It was tough to leave – the lodge is warm and inviting, serving up old-world classics like Duck Confit, hot toddies, and stick-to-your-ribs leek soups. But we had a mission, and knew our best chance of success lay in an early start. The only problem was that the clear conditions keeping the ice together were also freezing our toes off. We were saved by a warming hut near the climb, a cool feature of the park, where we built a fire to warm our digits. Poor Joseph, dealing with blisters, had to walk the road in his running shoes instead of insulated climbing boots, and his little piggies went to the market and never really returned.

After the uphill bushwhack, we arrived at the climb a bit later than we had hoped but excited to get moving. On my attempt with Ian Osteyee last year, we had backed off just a few hundred feet up the face; as unusual warming temperatures had heated up the climb, chunks of rock and ice began  dislodging en masse and bombing down the gully with ill intent. We decided to keep our lives and beat a quick retreat, essentially turning the day into a nordic ski outing. Fortunately, as we racked up this year, the ice was sticky and totally perfect.

We cast up, tackling a couple hard pitches right off the bat, including the mixed pitch – where the ice failed to connect, Joseph bravely led up through rock, traversing out left on scant protection and getting the job done. Unfortunately, the unprotected traverse meant I was looking at a scary swinging fall, so Eric and I took our time through this section, and he did a perfect job calling out placements for my ice tools. As we climbed higher, it became clear our biggest struggle would be the cold and, increasingly, the unrelenting arctic wind, which ripped across the river we had crossed on approach, picking up cold air and sweeping up the climb, freezing us at the belays.

We were climbing strong, but our delayed start due to the cold was coming back to bite us. Joseph dispatched two more hard ice pitches, including a mega-long grade 5+ pitch, bobbing and weaving through crystalline curtains and the shining golden ice from which the climb derives its name. Suddenly, we were near the top, just one pitch away, but according to my sighted partners we were all out of light! Finishing the final pitch would have meant a scary lead for Joseph and a complex descent in the darkness. Not wanting to return for a third attempt, I was feeling the summit fever, but cooler (and more sighted) heads prevailed, and we pulled the plug, reversed course and began the long trek back to the Auberge.

I’ll be back to finally summit La Pomme d’Or, but the top is sort of besides the point. As with most summits, the real adventure is found along the way. And anyway, I think the view from the top is overrated.