Terror And Elation

Whistler Via Ferrata - Terror And Elation While Climbing The Iron Way
By Devon O'Malley

“Okay, we’ll stop here and pull out our ice axes and crampons,” announces Jeff, our guide for the afternoon. He slides off his backpack and dumps it in the snow at his feet. I shrug my pack off and marvel at how I can be so warm while standing at the foot of Whistler mountain’s high alpine glacier. True, back at the Adventure Hut I had added a few layers of clothing after noticing the wisps of snowflakes drifting from the sky.

But now, an hour later and a brisk hike among the white-laced rocks, I was sweating. I ask my best-friend Amy if she’d like a swig of water. She nods and I dig the bottle out of our pack. I also pull out a couple energy bars to quell the rumbling in my stomach. I must have anticipated it would be a few hours and a few hundred feet until the next meal.

You can’t find this quiet anywhere near civilization.

Amy and I munch loudly in the natural stillness. It’s the silence that allows you to finally hear what every other animal must hear, every insect, as they go about their business in the absence of human activity. It feels as old as the earth and indifferent as the mountain itself.

Jeff instructs us on fitting our crampons; basically spiked metal shoes that are essential for glacier-walking. I’d never heard of them before this moment – before we’d decided to attempt Via Ferrata, “The Iron Way” – a tour offered by Whistler Alpine Guides Bureau. First developed by Italian soldiers during World War I, the activity consists of rock climbing via an engineered vertical pathway, utilizing permanently fixed cables and metal rungs for movement. (Or that’s how it works in theory anyway).

All three of us tie each other together with elastic rope. “In the fresh snow, it’s difficult to spot the crevasses in the glacier,” says Jeff. I envision a moment of plunging into an icy abyss and make sure my the rope is tightly clamped to my waist before we head out. Our crampons dig into the ice with assuring crunches. Like a blind man with a cane, Jeff pokes his ice axe in the snow to detect any cracks.

Soon we are standing at the foot of the climbing path.