Ski touring Ghost Peak is not for the faint of heart. It’s a long day out in the further reaches of the Revelstoke backcountry, requiring high endurance and mental fortitude. Just my cup of tea. After a failed attempt in the spring of 2019, I was dead set on bagging the summit. Today was our window. Alas, Cedrik and I were challenged by icy wind slabs and deep snow trail-breaking. That day, every minute counted.

Related: Kokanee Bowl, Radar Bowl: Unreal Lift-Accessed Ski Touring

Report from January 18, 2020

The region’s weather forecast indicated decent visibility, 70% cloudy. That’s pretty good by Revelstoke’s standards. I was joined by young-gun Cedrik who has also been obsessed with ski touring Ghost Peak since he first visited the resort, back in 2018. It’s understandable: from the top of the Stoke Chair (2200m) where we started our tour, the summit sticks out from the rest of this rugged range like a sore thumb.

We came across Marty, a badass speedrunner. For the unacquainted, speed riding was born in the extreme sports capital of Chamonix. It’s the result of an uncommon union between snowboarding (or skiing) and paragliding, the very definition of gnarly.

We ducked the orange rope bounding the Revelstoke Mountain Resort. I feel the word “slackcountry” or “sidecountry” can be misleading. Those terms led people to believe they offer safer out-of-bounds skiing due to their relative proximity to the controlled areas. It simply is not the case. I consider both terms equal to “backcountry” and, as such, one must be fully aware of the hazards that it entails. Back to the story!

We quickly realized we would break trail the entire way, 17km return by my estimation. Time was of the essence. Precarious wind slabs, buried surface hoar, and additional snow loading had kept most backcountry skiers at home for the time being. That very Saturday was the first opportunity I felt we could deal with the avalanche problems, especially in the alpine.

It took an longer than expected, more than one hour, to summit Montana Peak, the first stop on our way to Ghost Peak. While, the snow was deep I was mostly burdened by a pulled hip flexor (psoas muscle), a growing pain I would be forced to tolerate all day. We sped through our transition and cautiously eased off the summit that was glazed with wind slabs. As predicted, the slabs were far too stiff and stubborn for a human release.

The run down the south face of Montana Peak was sublime. The thick slab beneath our skis provided a stable base for the 15-20cm of blazingly fast powder. It’s been a long time since we’ve encountered those conditions. To our surprise, the skies fully cleared up by the time I joined Cedrik’s tracks at the bottom of the alpine bowl located east of Kokanee Peak. We were stoked on how well our mission began and happily welcomed the blue skies.

We skied down the narrowing drainage leading away from the bowl while making sure we avoided the overhead hazard on our right. Although the natural avalanche cycling from the last storm had ceased, we knew the snowpack’s stability was still questionable.

After an hour of strenuous trail-breaking, we veered into yet another bowl, this time situated at treeline. Its nearby cliff band was filled with tantalizing chutes as well as a steep funnel peppered with rocks. As long as we minded the rocks, this would be our way out. At the center of the bowl laid a frozen alpine lake. For the lack of a better name, I called this one Ghost Lake. We circumnavigated the lake, unwilling to test the ice. The moment I saw this area a year ago, I fell in love with it. Surrounded by gnarly chutes, cliffs, alpine peaks, and convoluted gullies, this would make a great spot for a few days of winter camping… or even summer camping. Future trip report inbound!

Past the bowl, we arrived at the foot of Ghost Peak’s western ridge. We were in for a challenge. That very aspect had been swept by high winds, creating a stiff upwind slab. No matter how hard as we stomped the surface, our edges would barely make a dent in the crust. It took more than an hour of exhausting kick-turns to climb less than 200 vertical meters of the frustratingly steep section. Sadly, there was no way around this crux as other options would expose us to overhead avalanche paths. Since we had just dedicated a large chunk of our time budget to this section, I was starting to closely monitor our progress. There wasn’t must time left before sundown.

It was 2:30 PM when we made the tough call to turn back a few hundred meters from the summit. Ghost Peak was standing proud within our grasp, covered in sastrugi, a beautiful pattern created by pounding winds. I knew ski touring back to the resort would take roughly 2.5 hours and sunset was at 4:45 PM. We had spent far too long breaking trail and dealing with wind slabs. Learning to curb one’s mountain ambition is crucial to one’s safety. Remember: it’s not about the objective, but the journey… a valuable life lesson that is applicable to much more than just mountaineering. For the second time in two years, Ghost Peak had eluded me.

We dropped down from the summit ridge and skied a funnel-shaped chute that spat us out onto Ghost Lake. Since Cedrik had gone first, the rocky choke was scrapped bare. As much as I hated sharks, this was the only way down. And so, I pointed my skis downhill, praying I wouldn’t destroy my bases. A well-timed hop over the rocks did the job.

The way back up the ridge spanning from Kokanee Peak felt like an eternal slog of peaks and valleys. Oh, my muscles were aching but I pushed through. That’s where the mental fortitude comes in. One step after another… that’s all we had in mind.

Eventually, we gained Kokanee Peak and dropped into Montana Bowl through a tight choke, located just below the true peak. It was nearly dark by then. After a dicey run dodging trees in poor visibility and nearly getting run over by a patroller snowmobile, we emerged from the gloomy forest. We were back at our car by 5:15 PM when work called me in for an impromptu evening shift. Ain’t no rest for the wicked.

Update, January 25, 2021: Yes! We’ve finally summited Ghost Peak. Turns out the summit pitch is not as steep as I initially expected. The peak gently rolls over into a 35-degree incline – exposed but manageable. Word of advice: it’s almost always wind-scoured up there. Boot crampons and ice axe are an absolute must for the summit bootpack! And, watch out for sharks: the snowpack is shallow at the top. Ski crampons would help to deal with the steep hardpack slopes at the base of the peak when it hasn’t snowed in a while.

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