Canada

The tall tales of the Post 58 Canada Trip

Written by President Teagan Mullen

I turned my head away from the vicious dust cloud so I could breathe. I lay sprawled out over the pile of duffel bags next to the other students and advisors.  We held the bags tightly so the helicopter’s winds wouldn’t carry them away. Bag after bag was handed down the fire lines. Load after load of gear, ice axes, banana boxes full of food, and students whizzed up and away, out of sight into the Selkirks. Finally, I felt the long anticipated weightless sensation as the helicopter lifted me high into the sky, careening along glacial ridges towards our ant sized teammates. The annual trip to Canada had officially begun.

For one week, we made our home in the remote mountain range so isolated the only other living things we had contact with were our friends the wildflowers and mountain goats. You could also call us, the mountain G.O.A.T.S on this trip too. I have never before done more technical mountaineering on any post trip. Fixed lines, 4th and 5th class rock climbing pitches, rope teams and rappells all became second nature. I swear I began to dream in fixed lining.

On our climbing days, we would rise before the sun to start our attempts up the mountains surrounding our daily view. Near 10 hours later we would be eating our “pjagels” (peanut butter and jelly bagels), looking down at base camp of tiny rainbow tents while waiting to sign the summit log. My favorite parts of the days, although sometimes a little treacherous, was descending the monstrous peaks. I dare say there may have never been more epic glissading in Post’s history.

We had a small encounter with a lightning scare on one particular descent. It was a thrilling race back to our tents to dry off away from the rain and crashing thunder. For those who don’t know, there is an old post legend telling the story of bad things that befall groups who eat summit Pop Tarts before the summit. I am not a superstitious person, BUT! Did some students eat their pop tart below the summit? And did storm clouds roll in immediately after?….. I will let you draw the correct conclusion.

Evenings home at camp were full of heated card games, frustrating but delicious cooking and sunset sing alongs. It was the most technically and physically intensive mountaineering I have ever done for many days on end so sleep was always welcomed.

On our two rest days, the shenanigans could not be stopped. We explored the nearby icy glaciers, chucked sock bombs at each other blindfolded in games of Tank, fiercely competed in “Rocce” tournaments (rock bocce ball), and visited the bluest alpine lakes I’ve ever seen. Everyone ran around camp like the 5 year olds we were. The whole week felt like winter snow days off school, playing with your friends. On our second to last day, when most of our food had been eaten, our newly empty cardboard boxes transformed into toboggan sleds. A snow slide was built and soon accompanied by a jump that put Olympic ski ramps to shame.

Although I will remember the skills I learned from our many climbs for a long time. It’s the people, laughs, slippery snow slides, and songs that I will never forget.