Ha Ling on New Year's Eve: A Stairway to Slightly Sweaty Heaven

Our New Year's Eve wasn't exactly a pre-dawn alpine start. We were operating on a more civilized 10 AM departure from the ACC lodge. After all, Ha Ling, while worthy challenge, wasn't Everest. We weren't expecting to summit by brunch.

Waking up at 8:30 allowed for the usual lodge morning rituals: the mad dash for a vacant bathroom (a small victory in itself), the kitchen scavenger hunt (where *are* the plates this time?), and breakfast with the other intrepid adventurers… or, well, just us. It seemed everyone else was either already conquering some other peak or wisely choosing to sleep in.

My sleep was… compromised. Keith, bless his heart, had recently discovered his inner grizzly bear. His snoring had reached epic proportions, likely exacerbated by his recent weight gain. My earplugs put up a valiant fight, but they were no match for the sonic boom emanating from his bed. I consoled myself with the knowledge that it was only a two-night ordeal. Little did I know how sleep deprived I would become.

Before leaving, I forked over $15.75 for the Kananaskis daily pass. Another "sustainability fee," which, in my cynical mind, translates to "another way for the government to extract money from us." There was no way around it unless I wanted to risk a fine or hitch a ride with Mike, Basia, Bozena, and now Anna (who was joining us from Banff). This meant Keith was officially our tagalong.

The 26-minute drive to the parking lot was uneventful. It’s been almost five years since I was the last there, and wow, things have changed. The parking lot has undergone a serious makeover. It was bigger, more… *modernized*. It looked like the government had spent our money “wisely.” (Personally, I prefer function over flash. A basic parking lot would have sufficed. This felt like a prime example of public money being used for unnecessary upgrades in a country that’s already pretty well off.)

The weather at the ACC wasn't inspiring. Fog and low clouds clung to the valley, and there was a definite nip in the air. However, as we gained elevation on Highway 762, the clouds began to part. The parking lot, however, was a wind tunnel. We huddled in the car, waiting for the rest of the group, like penguins trying to stay warm.

Finally, at 10:43, we set off. My fourth ascent of Ha Ling, my second in winter. I estimated a five-hour round trip. Mike, ever the optimist, predicted four: two up, two down. He clearly hadn't factored in the potential for scenic photo stops, or the fact that we weren't all competing in an uphill sprint.

The Ha Ling trail is a fantastic experience, offering a taste of steep mountain terrain, chain-assisted stairs, stunning views (when the weather cooperates), and a solid workout. We were passed by trail runners going both ways. The trail conditions were excellent: hard-packed snow, no ice. Still, caution was advised.

Our group was a mixed bag of hiking abilities. Ada, Basia, and I could probably summit in under two hours. Mike and Keith would likely be bringing up the rear. Bozena, a slower hiker, would probably turn back at some point. And Anna? Her abilities were an unknown quantity.

Ada set a brisk pace, which quickly led to some layer shedding (Anna was the first to de-robe). We paused periodically to allow the slower members to catch their breath. It wasn’t my usual breakneck pace, but I wasn't there to set any personal records. Fun and a safe return were the priorities.

We stopped at the first and second lookouts. The second one was new to me. The views were… well, they *would* have been breathtaking if we could see anything. The valley was still shrouded in low clouds, looking like a weather-induced prison for those who couldn’t afford the escape fee. The EEOR loomed on the other side, a monumental guardian of the foggy abyss. I could see Highway 762 snaking below; the cars looked like tiny toys, but I could still hear them. After the lookout, Ada and I took off, getting cold from the frequent stops. I hadn't even worn a base layer on my legs, a decision I was starting to regret.

I was eager to see the new stairs, and they didn't disappoint. Aesthetically pleasing and impressively sturdy. We both huffed and puffed our way to the top of the first set. The trail then veers right to the second set. More huffing, more puffing, more fun. The views up here, even with the partial cloud cover, were a balm for the soul. We then traversed toward the peak. The footing was excellent, hard-packed snow with almost no ice. Ada slowed down on the traverse, admitting she was getting tired. We saw people descending from Miners Peak on the other side. More clouds were rolling in, and the sun played hide-and-seek. People passed us on their way down.

The air was still; a welcome change from the wind at the parking lot, but it was still a brisk -14°C. We could see the rest of our group tackling the first set of stairs.

Ada and I reached the summit in 2:16, slower than my 1:48 in February 2020 (I even did it in 1:22 in March 2018.) This time, we had the perfect excuses: a slower pace, more stops, and photographic evidence of our leisurely ascent.

The summit was… interesting. We were enveloped in clouds, but we still caught glimpses of the Bow Valley to the east, the Spray Valley to the west, the EEOR to the north, and Miners Peak and Lawrence Grassy to the south. It was a surreal experience. We quickly donned our warm jackets and gloves and snapped the obligatory summit photos.

But the wind was picking up, and we were losing heat fast. We knew we couldn't linger. Basia arrived about ten minutes later. Always strong, with those “light” legs of hers, she made quick work of the climb. We exchanged hugs, took more photos and videos, carefully avoiding the cornices that threatened a 500-meter plunge into the abyss. Ada, understandably chilled, started her descent. I stayed behind to capture the arrivals of the others.

Anna was next, and she impressed me. I hadn’t known her hiking abilities, but she proved to be a force to be reckoned with, reaching the summit about 15 minutes after us. Everyone who summited that day was a strong climber; the conditions weren’t exactly balmy.

Anna asked me to take photos with her phone, which I had to politely decline. My hands were already bordering on frostbite, and operating a touchscreen would have required removing my gloves. If she had been faster, I might have braved it, but I offered to take photos with my camera, which I could operate with gloves on.

Mike arrived right after Anna, which was nothing short of astonishing. I challenge any 75-year-old to summit Ha Ling in winter on New Year’s Eve. Mike is a testament to the power of staying active. He even braved the elements to take photos of Anna. He's tougher than me.

Finally, Keith made it. Five minutes after Mike. I was genuinely happy for him. It’s become a tradition to photograph him on the summit with a beer, but today, I just couldn’t do it. My hands were numb, and I desperately wanted to get down.

I’d spent over 40 minutes on the summit and was thoroughly chilled. I’d forgotten how brutal the mountain environment could be: the biting wind, the desolate landscape, the cold seeping into my extremities. (Once I put on my big gloves, my hands were okay, and my feet miraculously warmed up somehow.) Interestingly, my legs felt fine, despite my lack of a base layer. My Fjällräven G-1000 pants had once again proven their worth.

The descent was long and uneventful, except for the traverse, where gravity was a constant reminder of the steep slope. The stairs were… interesting. Demanding, but interesting. The carved steps provided secure footing, which was a definite plus.

After the second set of stairs, we encountered Bozena, who had made it that far. She was also impressive, having climbed to nearly 2,200 meters. She wanted to at least experience one set of stairs. Basia and Anna accompanied her. Ada had already started down, and I soon caught up with her and Mike. But then, Mike decided to *go back up* and climb the stairs *again*. I half-expected him to start scaling the rock face; scree is his preferred climbing medium, after all.

I descended quickly but couldn’t keep up with Ada. She was practically flying. I passed some people still heading up—a strange sight at that hour (it was after 3:30 PM).

I finally caught Ada at the bottom, where she was waiting. Our car-to-car time was 4:51 hours, a bit slower than usual, but it didn’t matter. We had a great hike, a good workout, and good company.

It was fascinating to watch the clouds swirling from Bow Valley towards the parking lot. I love witnessing natural phenomena like that.

Keith arrived about 13 minutes after Ada and me. He was happy but clearly tired. He admitted that carrying extra weight wasn't conducive to fast hiking.

Basia, Anna, and Bozena arrived 25 minutes later, with Mike right behind them. I’d even texted Mike, saying we’d be leaving at 4 PM because we were cold. They arrived at 3:59. Talk about cutting it close!

We were all happy, proud, relieved, and relaxed after our now-traditional New Year's Eve hike. Everyone except Bozena reached the summit, and we all got to experience the incredible mountain scenery.

Everything was nearly perfect: the weather (eventually), the trail conditions, the timing, the photos and videos, the whole adventure. Spending the last day of 2024 with such a great group was a wonderful way to end the year.

 

We drove down to Canmore, ordered dinner from Boston Pizza (a post-hike tradition), and picked it up from the packed restaurant. After a 10-minute wait, we headed back to the ACC. Time to refuel and prepare for the New Year's celebrations.

Anita hadn’t joined us on the hike; she’d stayed in town to visit her son.

The evening was a festive affair. We had a fantastic potluck dinner. Anita brought delicious mushrooms, Mike contributed perogies and salad, and Basia made the salad dressing. We had Fettuccini Alfredo with chicken and mushrooms, and Bozena had chicken. It was a huge and satisfying meal, our last of 2024.

Anna and her husband, Tomas, joined us, bringing a delicious pizza. It was great to see Tomas, whom I usually only see at New Year's. He’s incredibly knowledgeable and one of the few people I can have in-depth conversations with about books and movies.

I mused that if he were alive, Marlon Brando would be 100 years old, just like Jimmy Carter, who had recently passed. We were still here, which was a good thing.

We occupied a secondary living room, as a younger group had taken over the main one. We decorated both rooms, creating a warm, celebratory atmosphere. I felt content and at peace. I was in one of the most beautiful places on earth, surrounded by great people, and with my love. We were bidding farewell to 2024 and welcoming 2025.

We had a round-table discussion about our 2024 experiences, initiated by Mike. The stories were interesting and inspiring, bringing us closer. I shared my thoughts on how these moments of togetherness were precious, especially in a world where connection seems increasingly fractured.

Then, DJ Mike took over, and we danced. The younger group even joined us, and we showed them that New Year's celebrations can be just as fun without constant phone checking.

Around 11:15, Mike, Basia, Anna, Tomas, and Keith headed to Millennium Park for the fireworks. Anita, Bozena, Ada, and I decided to stay at the ACC. We would welcome 2025 together in a quieter setting.

Midnight arrived, and we officially entered the New Year. It still felt surreal, as it has for the past few years. Time seems to accelerate as we get older. We can't slow it down.

I held my wife close. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

The Millennium Park contingent returned just before 1 AM. We saw them last “last year.” That still sounded strange. We were in 2024 just an hour ago.

We had champagne, more wine, and listened to jazz and Pink Floyd. Everyone else had retreated to their rooms, but we lingered, savoring the first hours of 2025. My wife was tired and went to bed, as Bozena and Anita did.

We were happy but also starting to feel the effects of the long day. It was after 2 AM when we exchanged final “Happy New Years” and went to bed. Anna and Tomas drove back to Banff.

Thank you, 2024. Welcome, 2025.

 

Boris Bokov

http://www.borisbokov.com

http://www.badab101.com

Photos by Boris Bokov, Anna Slysz and Mike Alexander. Put together by PR.