Mountaineering under midnight sun

Press, Volume CXI, Issue 32589, 24 April 1971, Page 11

Mountaineering under midnight sun

(By R. B. JAMES)

Far up in. (Canada's Arctic north; in a world where the treeless tundra, the roelu tW snow, and the ice compete for the possession of the surface of the land, there exists a long chain of rugged mountains. They run northwards through the Arctic islands,. along the east coast of Baffin Island and on through to Ellesmere Island where they reach, their loftiest at more than 10,000 feet. Sweeping’’glaciers and falls of ice,.'jagged peaks and walls -of • rock, exist in such profusion and scale that they rival' . the grandeur of Canada's greatest western ranges, and yet, their very existence is unknown to most people in the populated south of the country. Certainly some know of them and have seen them—Eskimo hunters, government workers, scientists and engineers—but only a few have visited and known them for what they really are—an alpine paradise. For most of the year the Arctic’s wintry grip makes it a secret hidden place, white and frigid, but for a few weeks there are parts of these mountains which seem to breathe to refresh themselves, the fog and cloud clears, the snow retreats from the deep valleys, and wildflowers, animal life, and sunshine reign. It was in this latter mood that we, a group of four mountaineers, found the Pangnirtung Pass area of the Cumberland Peninsula, Baffin Island last summer, during the second half of July and early August. Four engineers, three civil and one mining, representing quite a diverse range of alpine backgrounds South African, French, English, and New Zealand; and not to forget the movie photographer— Canadian. A long dream For one of us, it had been a long dream to see the area, and it took only a few aerial photographs and the glowing reports of the few other previous parties to convince the other three that wonderful climbing abounded. Sheer granite walls to rival those of Yosemite Valley; massive mountains and glaciers reminiscent of the Rockies; craggy peaks of rock and ice to compare with the European Alps.. It seemed that the ancient granites of the area had been uplifted in the dim geological past and the ice ages had done the rest, scouring out valleys 6000 feet deep, leaving the rock and ice remnants which

delight, the mountaineer. The remains of the Old uplifted plateau were still there as well, just to the north of the pass, with its thick ice cap along the horizon. In an area such as this, and for an activity such as mountaineering, the problems of access and weather are paramount. The uncertainties associated with both, and the totally uninhabited, undeveloped nature of the area can easily affect the success or safety of the venture, particularly for a small group contemplating an untried approach to the area. Approach on foot Travelling from Montreal to the nearest inhabited settlement of Pangnirtung was no problem for it was served several times a week by a commercial airline. From this point, the approach chosen by the previous groups of climbers (two Canadian Alpine Club trips in 1963 and 1965, and climbing associated with scientific visits by the North American Arctic Institute and Cambridge University) was to hire a plane to fly equipment and personnel in, except in the case of the Cambridge group who arrived by ship on the east coast of the island. However in a region where summer fogs may envelop everything for a week at a time and lakes may or may not be thawed sufficiently for landings, our three weeks was too precious to be upset by such vagaries in conditions. Instead we chose to take advantage of the advancement in the design and manufacture of lightweight equipment and foods. We would walk in, carrying everything on our backs everything for survival and climbing, freeze dried and concentrated foods, nylon tents, stoves, fuel, snowshoes, and the ropes, helmets, ice axes, hammers, crampons, webbing, and assorted hardware essential for scaling rock and ice.

Thus were our thoughts occupied during the months of planning, organising, and checking required before departure time. Our weekends became occupied with preparation climbs on the low cliffs of eastern Ontario, and for me the chance to do an ice climb on the north face of Mount Baker in Washington State and some “grade V bush scrambling” on the steep glaciated valley walls of southern British Columbia came in handy.

Memorable landing Finally we were off, flying 2000 miles north from Montreal for an overnight stop at Frobisher Bay, the supply centre of the eastern Arctic. From there we flew on to Pangnirtung, an Eskimo settlement of 600 people just south of the Arctic Circle. Our arrival was memorable, cloiids of dust swirling about as the plane skidded to a stop on the 800 foot runway, a sea of curious faces

to witness our arrival, and as a backdrop, the high rocky slopes of the fiord.

For us it was an overnight. stop again, just time to sort the supplies waiting at the Hudson Bay Company store, and to arrange the service of two Eskimo inhabitants and their canoe for the following day. Ah yes, and to wander amongst the people and their settlement, to watch them fish for Arctic char at midnight on the old moraines lining the fiord, with the sky still pink and grey from the sun lurking just below the horizon. Even at this hour the place was full of scurrying activity, the rhythm of life being more controlled by the need for sleep, food, and chores, than with the hour of the day.

The Eskimos’ small shacks have all been provided by the Canadian Government in the last 10 years to replace the old canvas and sod huts, each complete with electric lights, oil heating, and most surprisingly, a telephone. Only six years ago their only contact with the outside' world was a supply ship once a year! And now motor canoes and skidoos are common, aiding in the traditional hunting for white whale, seals, ducks, fish, and caribou. A brief look it was, but what a fascinating new world to be amongst. Heavy packs By 5 o’clock the following morning we were off towards the end of the Pangnirtung Fiord, 30 miles away, watching enthralled as the rocky bluffs slid past the canoe, the strengthening light and first rays of sunlight providing splendid reflections on the glassy surface of the water. Time passed too fast, for soon we were unloading and eyeing our packs for the last time before shouldering them, 751 b to 801 b each, packed tight and high. Our two Eskimo helpers too, with 501 b apiece, would carry for us for this first day and then return to Pangnirtung. Our first camp was to be 12 miles away, along the great U-shaped glaciated Weasel Valley which stretches inland from the fiord. At first we crossed mile-wide tidal flats of soft sand and stones, then on through great heaps of boulders, rock, and sand — gigantic moraines monu-

ments to the scouring ice of ages past. Above, ever present, were the dark shapes of the peaks lining the valley, their lower buttresses rising almost sheer for 3000 feet and their summits, topped with snow and ice, as high again above. Separating the peaks, glaciers and snowfields terminated in contorted broken icefalls plunging almost to the valley floor. A forbidding wasteland it seemed at first, so stark and sombre, with everything, down to the boulders in our path, on a scale hard to believe. Our two Eskimo companions spoke no English but their expressive and normally jovial faces suggested that their thoughts were far away and they were wishing for their more accustomed summer life in a canoe. At some point we crossed the Arctic circle itself. Awe-inspiring view Finally the camp and a haven it seemed after the land we had struggled through, with its green mossy banks and flowers beside the river. Our view was unique. On one side was the almost sheer north well of Mount Thor, 4000 feet of smooth hard granite with the top 1500 feet overhanging. Beyond this was the castlelike Baldur, surrounded on all sides by vertical walls of granite. Over the river, a

great black dome, smooth all around and tapering to a needle point seemed like some impregnable fairy-tale refuge. From this camp we scaled two previously unclimbed peaks, each time climbing over 5000 feet and descending again to enjoy the warmer temperatures and calmer conditions below. It was necessary to reconnoitre first, to climb high to investigate possible routes of ascent, to select, and then to try. There were no routes or descriptions of conditions to follow here. At . times we climbed in bright sun, at others drifting snow and frozen ropes prevailed, but always there was light, for this was the land of the midnight sun and darkness never came. What a great advantage it was, for one climb alone took 30 hours, all day, al! night, and half the following day before the descent was complete and we could stop to sleep. Rivers in flood Twice more we moved our camp, each time further inland, until finally it would have been a 60-mile walk to the nearest habitation. By now the brief summer melting was at its peak, the rivers were in flood and the glaciers literally riverbeds of slush and water. Walking in these conditions became a real effort and sinking to the

This article was written by a New Zealander, Barry James, of Nelson, who after post-graduate studies at the Mining Engineering Department, Queen’s University, Kingston, Canada, visited and worked at mining properties across Canada, ineluding British Columbia and northern Labrador. He later spent three weeks climbing in Baffin Island, in the Canadian Arctic. This article tells of the hardships and excitements encountered in this littleexplored area.