I.
This year marked the final field season of a three year NSF-funded project to discover a little bit about how cirque glaciers behave and what geomorphic processes interact to form cirques. We monitored motion, headwall erosion, conditions in the bergschrund, and other glaciological variables at a small glacier in the Canadian Rockies.

During the next year we hope to use our field measurements to, among other things, help explain how cirques over deepen and create a mathematical model of cirque glacier dynamics that can be used to predict their future behavior. It is worth mentioning that NSF grants do not cover personal clothing, leaving each researcher responsible for their own attire. As a graduate student with a limited salary, I send many thanks to Cloudveil!

II.
Although I have begrudgingly spent most the past three months at my computer trying to calculate the viscosity and balance of forces driving and resisting the motion of a small cirque glacier in the Vermillion Range of the Canadian Rockies, British Columbia, it isn’t always this way. Now lost amongst the many spreadsheets of data collected at our field site is the fact that each velocity measurement, temperature record, or ice depth represents time spent with friends in the mountains of Canada.

Without exception, each visit to the West Washmawapta Glacier starts with a helicopter.

There is not enough space in this post to cover all the ways that helicopters are almost as fantastic as glaciers and cirques- I rate them Number 3 on my list of The Best Things Ever. And, while I can’t comment on how our camp compares to other base camps around the world, but it is certainly comfortable.

For example, with the never-ending sun found in the Canadian Rockies, our solar panels provided enough electricity to charge batteries for each days’ research program as well as an occasional viewing of The Adventures of Brisco County Jr., a Fox sci-fi cowboy television show that really did deserve a second season.

We also played a lot of Uno™ and drank a lot of whiskey.

Our project, a comprehensive study of the ice dynamics of a, shall we say, “petite” glacier and its affect on the surrounding cirque, is definitely comparable to the siege-style of mountaineering, had we actually been there to climb anything.

Over the course of three field seasons, a total of seven trips, we measured just about everything we could think to measure within the limits of our NSF funding (and then some) – surface velocity using GPS devices, rockfall frequency and magnitude, sliding in subglacial tunnels, water discharge from the snout, proglacial till thicknesses, ice and snow melt, but none more terrifying than environmental variables in the bergschrund.

Each year, I dreaded my annual visits to that yawning chasm – few places make one feel more mortal. The very existence of the bergschrund may prove to be one of the fundamental reasons cirque headwalls even exist, which led us to instrument three separate vertical profiles up to 25 meters deep. A preliminary glance at the data we collected from that ‘crack of death’ indicates the rocks of the headwall are likely in as much danger of disintegration as the scientists sent to measure them.

Hours of mental rumination regarding the formation of the West Washmawapta cirque, while staring in to its hug-requesting arêtes, led me to one unexpected conclusion: despite frequent judgments to the contrary (words like bleak or barren being common), the Alpine world is vivacious and perpetually changing. Our little cirque is tumultuous – a raucous combination of avalanche upon avalanche, glacial streams and waterfalls, and collapsing cornices. Silence is completely absent; we just became accustomed to the uninterrupted noise. I elicited great satisfaction from a perch high on the glacier looking out over the spine of the Rockies, with the knowledge that every cirque, up and down the range, was celebrating its existence as a cirque, an alpine jubilee of snow, ice, water, and rock, and I was certainly happy I was invited.

III.
Canadian Sunset – I listened to this all the time up there

Once I was alone
So lonely and then
You came out of nowhere
Like the sun up from the hill
Cold cold as the wind
Warm warm were your lips
Out there on the ski trail
Where your kiss filled me with thrill
Weekend in Canada a change of scenery
Was the most I bargained for
And then I discovered you and in your eyes
I’ve found a love that I couldn’t ignore

Down down came the sun
Fast fast beat my heart
I knew as the sun set from that day
We’d never part

Down down down down came the sun
Fast fast fast fast beat my heart
I knew as the sun set from that day
We’d never part

Down down down down came-a the sun
Fast fast fast fast beat-a my heart
I knew as the sun set from that day
We’d never part
We’d never part
We’d never part

Cloudveil pro Johnny Sanders is a PhD Candidate at University of California, Berkeley.

The annual Skinny Skis Avalanche Awareness Night in Jackson will take place this Thursday, December 4^th from 6:00 to 9:00 in the Grand Room at Snow King. A great opportunity for the winter backcountry user to get valuable information on weather, snow conditions, backcountry travel, gear, equipment, and local avalanche classes and guide services.

It’s a cheap date, a $5.00 donation at the door supports Teton County Search and Rescue and gets you access to the best local avalanche information you can find.  Rod Newcomb will give his annual update on the present (lack of) snowpack and what that layer might mean later in the season.  Jim Woodmency will discuss weather and its impacts on avalanche conditions, and Mike Rheam and Bob Comey will update you on your Bridger-Teton Avalanche Center.  John Griber will close out the evening with what is sure to be an excellent multi-media presentation on his recent expedition to Gasherbrum II.

The following update comes from Cloudveil pro Sarah Durante who has directed courses at the Breckenridge Outdoor Education Center since 2004. She lives in Alma, CO and enjoys a nice bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream when she’s not in the field. Here are her words.

There is nothing glamorous about helping a grown man out of his wheelchair and into a low-ceilinged tent.

Nor is it guaranteed that a meal prepared by a group of children with sensory processing disorders will be on the table before nightfall. The most important lesson that I have learned from these situations is how to adapt.

I do not claim to be a seasoned caretaker by any means. In fact, my experience assisting people with disabilities in their activities of daily living is somewhat specialized. I am most comfortable teaching people how to stay “regular” in the woods and keep themselves organized enough so that they don’t drop their toothbrushes in the sand. And, delightfully, the majority of wheelchair transfers I have assisted in have involved canoes and climbing harnesses.

At the Breckenridge Outdoor Education Center, we are dedicated to providing meaningful outdoor experiences for people with disabilities. During the summer, our wilderness program activities include rock climbing, white water rafting, canoeing, hand cycling, an adaptive high ropes course and team-building activities. It has been a life changing experience and a privilege to work for this non-profit organization. My coworkers and program participants have taught me valuable lessons in group dynamics, on how to graciously receive and provide meaningful feedback, and most importantly, on recognizing the potential in everyone, regardless of ability.

Here’s another dispatch from a Cloudveil pro. The following was submitted by Lisa Raleigh, who directs communications at the Colorado Rocky Mountain School.

Photo: Wilderness Orientation, August 2008 (10 day new student wilderness experience)

Belief in a sustainable future

As a formally trained environmental scientist, and someone who has spent the past 14 years in the outdoor industry, I returned to the academic world somewhat skeptical about the real-life impact of the environmental movement and the role our youth are playing.

Well what a pleasant surprise.

Here at CRMS, high school students come from all corners of the world to engage in college-prep academics. Witnessing these teenagers participate in an active curriculum makes me want to be 15 years old again and shows me that it’s possible to raise the bar on what we can expect of our youth from a community and philanthropic perspective.

In addition to their academic and sports/outdoor obligations, each student is involved in a two day per week afternoon work crew which includes a significant environmental and sustainability component. From growing organic vegetables to composting all our meal waste (napkins included) to the debut of our new half acre solar array done in conjunction with the Aspen Skiing Company and Xcel Energy, I truly believe our future is bright.

And it is our youth that are leading the way. So I toast the next generation, and am confident they will leave a greener, more sustainable and responsible world in their wake.