Not so little Mt. Little Hector

Mt. Little Hector, 3125 m, moderate scrambling, +1260 m, 9-10 hours. 

On 24 of July 2022, a brave group of the members of the Club, namely Boris Bokov, Andrzej Jędrych, Roman Lipiecki (Leader), Zbyszek Pławski, Gennady Sergeyev and Piotr Zieliński summited Mt. Little Hector in Banff National Park. This film, by Boris Bokov, gives the impression of this effort. Congratulations, guys! Tough climb! (PR)

Boris Bokov added this narration to the film, from the point of view of convalescent (he suffered knee injury last year). Check it out! 

I have done a lot since December 21 and have been hiking since April. The hikes were easy;
perhaps I could call the “biggest” hike in this year, Mt. Louie a moderate one, as it was wet and
slippery. Ever since then, I was excited about extending the level of climbing difficulty. Little Hector was going to be somewhat different.

My sleep was good. It is always almost scary to sleep in shared rooms with bunk beds, as I am
afraid there would be a person or many of them who snore. And I cannot handle snoring.
I lost the game, in which we decided who would sleep in shared accommodation and not in the
private room Roman booked. But I got a better deal, as I shared the big room for twelve
people with only 3 others.

Only one person, Hannes, a young Austrian, slept on of the room. The other guys, Roman, Felix, Piotr, and Andrzej, got pretty much squeezed into their private room (“squeezed” is the state I think people who stay in such a small room experience.) Even better, nobody snored in my room, so I got a good night of sleep, even though I had to get up at 6 (yes, that is early for me!) I kept a window open and had a white noise all night: Mosquito Creek is some 10 meters from the cabin. It was almost like sleeping with live meditative music. 

It was 5 C in the morning, and it was so fresh and crisp. It was a mother of all bluebird days.

We were quickly at the trailhead and started the ascend at 7:16. I did a big Hector in 2014, so I remembered the trail a bit. In 2014 I did the first third, including the falls crux, in the dark, so I didn't recognize much of the terrain today.

I knew that topography would change when approaching the falls - it became steeper and steeper.

We separated after the first fall. I went to the right; Felix followed me.

I didn't want to scramble through the rocks as I did eight years ago in the dark. I knew that the

other path was easier (at least for me.) Others went straight up, and Felix and I saw them only

after passing the second fall and climbing some 120 vertical meters. By this time, we were not

yet, as the sun was still behind the mountain, and we were still fresh. 

We were nicely advancing, and when the sun rays appeared, the colours became even more

vivid. It was incredible scenery around us. I think that the light brought mosquitos too.

We took a short break to apply sunscreen and other protective gadgets. And we had to get some

food into our bodies.

I felt good. I didn't think much about the knee. I didn't feel knee pain, but I was careful and

monitored every step. I was already preparing for the comedown, as I knew the second half of

the climb, the descent would be more complicated.

Once in the valley between Andromache and Hector, we followed the trail on the left-hand side.

This trail leads to the Hector pass, from where climbers can go left to Mt. Andromache and right,

to Hector and Little Hector.

We didn't go all the way to the pass. We turned right earlier. We even saw two people almost at

the top of the first long, steep section. I didn't remember if I went that way in 2014.

 

Before tackling the first intimidating slope, we regrouped and had food and water. Everyone was

doing well. The team was in good spirits. Roman has been amazing as always, adding humour to

our suffering.

I planned to be on the top in 5 hours, which meant we would ascend 250 metres every hour. We

met that requirement; during the first 500 vertical metres which we did in two hours.

Once on the top of the first super steep slope, we finally saw our objective. The approach slope

to the rock band was Uber steep, and the ridge was a relentless vertical continuation. Little

Hector looked intimidating. The average steepness of the mountain is 14.8%, and only one

mountain I did was steeper than Little Hector: Roche Perdrix.

We stopped at the flat area just before the upper slopes to take photos, but more, to enjoy the

view. We of course took many photos and played as children.

The views opened, and the colours were not from this world. The blue Hector Lake, Mt. Balfour,

Bow River, and green sea of evergreen trees created a picture resembling some utopian planet.

Felix asked/commented on the next stage of our climb: "How are we going to climb that?" I must

say that I had the same feeling and question. It looked intimidating, like a bouncer in front of a

disco club.

I wasn't too concerned about going up; I was already thinking about going down. How is my

knee going to behave? Will I be in pain? Will I be able to stay focused for hours descending? I

didn't know the answers to these questions, but I still felt satisfaction, as I was now entering a

higher level of effort, and my knee was going to be tested. I felt free. I only wished I didn’t jump

that far to the future.

As always, I documented the climb and combined photos and videos. I had my GoPro "working"

and tried to be a disciplined video person. We cannot create anything with nothing. That is why I

record hikes/climbs.

It got colder and windier, so we put jackets on. I was concerned about the snow at the steepest part, in the rock band weakness. I thought we might be able to climb the snow if it were not too hard. But even with softer snow, four out of six people probably wouldn't be able to climb it, as they didn't have ice axes.

I knew that they would have to climb the rock, either on the right or the left side.

It took a while until we finally reached, I would say, the second crux, the steepest part of the

route. It was covered with snow, and it was passable via the rock on the right, which was a nasty

combination of slabs, loose gravel, and pebbles. The team pushed through it and showed

resilience and competence. They unlogged quite a few rocks, which proved again, that Rockies

rock was mediocre.

I chose to climb the snow; I front kicked the steps and used my ice axe and one of my climbing

poles as my other points of contact with the snow.

It was almost like climbing on a steep ice face. It was hard labour, but I did it flawlessly, and

such climbing assured me that I still knew how to use ice tools. It's been a while since I did it.

We all stopped after this second crux, the rock band. I was puffing, and I was getting tired. We

had an early lunch, which was needed at this point, as we all spent a lot of energy.

It was getting colder, so we put on more jackets and hats to protect us from the strong wind.

There was no cloud in the sky, the sun was projecting heat, but it was still cold.

The scenery felt as it was, and it wasn’t there art the same time. It felt unsatisfying, either way: to

capture it with all senses indefinitely, or simply to ignore it. The colours, the wind, the sky, the

sun, our own breathing, and puffing, created a multidimensional image that is experienced rarely.

It almost felt as if we saw a wolverine that posed for photographs. We all experienced reclusive

sensations.

After this break, we continued up. There were still more than 300 vertical meters left. Typically,

that is not much, but today, on Little Hector, the last 1000 vertical feet were hard. It was the

scree that slowed us down, and even more the steepness of the slope. And yes, we were tired.

But I knew we would reach the top. We slowed down, but we were moving up. The mountain’s

summit wasn’t accommodating us, we had to work to get there.

I was happy to be here and climbing such a rugged mountain. Not even a year ago, I couldn't get

into the shower, when Dr. Sommerfeldt had to reconstruct my knee. And now, I was using my

new knee, my muscles were impeccable, and I was immersed in this beauty and had access to the

world's best view.

Out of 7.4 billion people, there were six of us on this small piece of rock.

It took us 5:20 hrs to reach the summit of Mt. Little Hector. I was off for 20 minutes and thought

we did an exemplary "job."

I was impressed by Piotr Z, who at first didn't appear a superman, but then he “smoked” the

mountain. And what to say about Roman? At 76, I think he was the fittest person at that age to be

so high in the mountains in North America. Andrzej was equally remarkable, as he said yesterday that he wasn't 100%, yet today, he scaled Little Hector as the mountain was a piece of cake. Felix did it beautifully, even though he doubted his chances when facing the big northeast face. Gennady delivered as well, but that shouldn't be a surprise, as he is way younger than the rest of the group.

And for me, well, I struggled, puffed, had considerable doubts, questioned my ability, and was

scared. My knee was fine; I didn't feel any pain in the operated areas. The meniscus was solid; the ACL

was rock solid; muscles were a bit weak. My hamstrings, especially the right one, were the

weakest link. Dr. Sommerfeldt said I would lose ~5% of hamstring strength once he used it as a

graft to build my new ACL. And I felt it. I also used my left leg more. So, I knew my left quad would be sore after the climb. And I still compensate(d). I understand it, as my brain still protects the operated leg. The lizard brain was my friend today.

We spent 40 minutes on the summit. The views were the best in the world. A human being

cannot experience better views, period. No technical gadget can do justice – a person has to

experience it live.

I tried to be present during the summit stay. I wanted to use my sense of sight and absorb the 360

views. We were quite high, and only a few mountain peaks were higher. The bluebird day

allowed 100 km visibility so that I could see almost all major giants of The Canadian Rockies.

The descent wasn’t easy, especially at the falls, when we all were tired. I was extremely fatigued,

and applied all precautions, to safely get down. 

At the end I told myself to “save” a personal reminder, that patience pays off.

(BB)