Skating in the Canadian Rockies: the perils and possibilities of ‘wild ice’
Skating in the Canadian Rockies: the perils and possibilities of ‘wild ice’
Lake skating is incredibly fun but fraught with peril for the inexperienced or unprepared.
By Brian Melnyk
Gap Lake, Exshaw, Brian Melnyk
After spending nearly a year indoors segregated from friends, family and group activities, people are craving physical activity. Outdoor sports such as lake skating and backcountry skiing offer the COVID-safe social distancing where groups can safely meet.
Calgarians, both new and experienced in mountain sports, are flocking to the Bow Valley to skate and play hockey on mountain lakes. This year, perhaps more than others, the mountains are as popular as ever on social media platforms, which is an excellent place to gather information on where to go, but can also be misleading in terms of conditions.
The breathtaking Rocky Mountain vistas caught Paul Zizka’s attention when he was 16 years old and he’s never looked back. Travelling to the mountains “is a rite of passage in Quebec and Ontario,” says Zizka. His cousins would come home from adventures out West and he knew he had to see the fabled Rockies for himself.
“[T]he mountains struck a nerve for sure. I had never really been much of an outdoorsy person prior to that, but I think the mountains have the power to turn the most urban people into outdoor enthusiasts pretty quickly,” says Zizka.
Zizka grew up in Quebec and studied geological engineering at Universitiè Laval before moving to Victoria, where he received his master’s in earth and ocean sciences. However, his career in the sciences was short-lived, as it didn’t align with his core values.
Elladj Blade, Lake Minnewanka, Paul Zizka
“I finished my degree because I believe in finishing what you started,” says Zizka. I already knew I belonged in the mountains, and I wanted to live right in the heart of the Rockies.”
Today, Zizka is one of Canada’s premier outdoor photographers specializing in glacial and lake photography. With nearly 400,000 followers on Instagram and 15 years of experience, his stunning photographs tell stories that words fail to communicate.
Zizka has tens of thousands of pictures to his name and makes backcountry travel look easy. However, the trouble with social media is that viewers don’t understand the painstaking effort and safety precautions that go into each frame.
Backcountry mountain travel is dangerous for those who are ill-prepared and uneducated. Mountain landscapes are so accessible on social media that followers—through no fault of their own—think they can do what Zizka or any other experienced mountain goer can do on a whim.
“I took some chances early on and got away with them,” says Zizka. “I was humbled by the mountains a couple of times and I realized that, in order to be here on a more permanent basis, I would have to change my relationship with them and make better decisions.”
Zizka’s thirst for knowledge took him to Yamnuska Mountain Adventures, where he attended a three-day introduction to glacial travel course. The Snow and Ice Long Weekend covers rope management, crevasse rescue and decision making. The crevasse rescue skills are similar to those required to rescue a skater who’s fallen through lake ice.
“Immediately following that [course], I started to get out with a lot of people who had more experience than me and knew what they were doing. I tried to absorb as much knowledge as I could from those people while still trying to participate in the decision-making process.”
The onus falls on the explorer and no one else. Zizka continually updates his knowledge, whether taking safety courses or paying guides to take him to places beyond his ability.
“As far as lake travel goes, try to soak up as much [information] as you can and try to find an unofficial mentor,” says Zizka. “Find a circle of reliable people, who have the same ideals and the same tolerance for risk, to get out with on a regular basis.”
Lake skating can be an incredible adrenaline rush and it’s easy to forget about the consequences. The issue is that too many people take their safety for granted, because they see one person out skating and assume it’s safe. “People wrongly assume that those people are doing things by the book,” says Zizka.
Shortly before Jan. 22, the 21-kilometre-long and 142-metre-deep Lake Minnewanka froze for the first time. Reports on social media said the ice was smooth as glass. The Weather Network app said there would be a low of -7 C and the long-term forecast said a polar vortex was on the way. That weekend the stoke was high, the ice was incredible and nearly everyone had an ear-to-ear grin. However, between Jan. 22 and Jan. 24, four people fell through the newly formed ice on Minnewanka. Do people automatically assume they were safe because of the sheer number of people on the ice?
Justin Scott , Redwood Meadows Olympic Oval, Brian Melnyk
Justin Scott is a hockey coach from Medicine Hat who frequently journeys west to enjoy lake skating with his family and film content for his coaching business. He spent a couple of days skating on Johnson Lake before going to Lake Louise, where Scott said, “the conditions were phenomenal.”
In search of new scenery, Scott drove up the Icefields Parkway and stopped at Bow Lake, which had too much snow, before continuing to Waterfowl Lake. Waterfowl is an hour from Lake Louise and out of the service. Scott thought to himself, “Lake Louise is close to these rinks. I skated on Lake Louise and these other lakes should be great.”
Scott had his family with him and the kids were still in the backseat when he grabbed his shovel and headed down to the lake to assess the ice. On his way down, Scott noticed large rocks were sitting on top of the ice.
“In your mind, you’re thinking, OK, people are throwing these rocks on the ice and seeing if they dip down,” said Scott. “They’re sitting on top. [It] should be safe, right?”
Scott proceeded to step on the ice and push a 40-metre-long path towards the centre of the lake, and decided to turn left to create a square. “So I start pushing, pushing snow off to the left, and all of a sudden, I hear a crack, like just little cracks,” said Scott.
He stood stalk still like a deer in headlights as different scenarios from his wilderness first responders course came rushing back. Scott said he thought about what would happen if he dropped down at an angle versus going straight down.
“So it cracked. I went straight down. My shovel went down with me. It was obviously deep because when I dropped, I didn’t hit the ground,” says Scott. “I resurfaced, and the one thing I will always remember is the sound of my daughter screaming.”
Barehanded and soaked, Scott clutched the ice and attempted to clamber out. The ice broke away, and he submerged again. With his wits about him, Scott said, “I kept going to the spot where I came from, because I might be safe that way.” He found a patch of ice thick enough to support his weight and performed a climber’s heel hook, and hauled himself out of the water while his daughter screamed hysterically.
What could have been a deadly plunge became a close call that Scott and his family will never forget. Skating on frozen lakes is backcountry exploration, and by taking the proper precautions skating can be both safe and exhilarating.
Ice screw test, Lake Minnewanka, Lee Nordbye
Wild ice skating is immensely popular in Europe and back East, but it’s just becoming trendy in the Rockies. Avalanche forecast teams exist in Canada because of backcountry skiing’s immense popularity. Backcountry skating hasn’t reached that level yet, so skaters have to be more vigilant about their decision making. Lake travel presents similar hazards to travelling in avalanche terrain, in that the inherent risk can be managed with safety gear and training.
Work Safe Alberta has an excellent best practices manual for “working safely on ice covers in Alberta.” The manual says ice thickness should be 10 centimetres thick for humans and 18 centimetres for small vehicles, whereas Parks Canada says the recommended ice thickness is 15 centimetres for walking or skating alone and 20 centimetres for skating parties or games. Ice safety standardization is nearly impossible because of variable ice thickness.
The Canadian Red Cross ice safety manual on Parks Canada’s website is a must read. It includes information on ice identification, rescue and self-rescue techniques. The manual lists water depth and size of body of water, changing air temperature, objects absorbing the sun’s heat, and water currents as factors affecting ice thickness.
Ron Morrison from Raven rescue says ice thickness recommendations aren’t always reliable because “they assume that the ice is what we call new or clear ice.” New ice is the first layer of ice, which is primarily uniform and clear in colour. Secondary ice is the safest because a second layer grows underneath the primary sheet creating depth, and appears blue or black because of the limited light penetration.
“Or, we can have what we call white ice or overflow ice that is considerably weaker,” says Morrison. White ice is superimposed ice formed by overflowing water or subsurface water that backs up over the ice sheet, forming a weaker white layer.
Between late January and mid-February, an estimated 20 to 30 centimetres of snow fell in the Banff region. The snowpack bonds to the ice sheet either because its natural insulating properties create moisture or by its sheer weight forcing water up through cracks. Water saturates the snowpack and creates a weak oxygenated layer called white ice.
“The average recreationists who are without training will unlikely be able to identify or assess the type of ice they’re looking at,” says Morrison. “In which case, the ice thickness minimums in those tables might not be accurate.”
Ice thickness is just one measure required for safe travel, because water and ice are organic substances that are subject to change. Alberta’s best practices manual outlines a three-step process for ice hazard management: 1. identify the hazard; 2. assess the hazard; and 3. eliminate or control the hazard.
At the very least, due diligence includes assessing risk vs. reward, potential hazards and environmental conditions before skating can keep smiles on everyone’s faces. Zizka says he’s always aware of hazards because “there’s no point risking your life for enjoyment or to get a photograph.” Quite often, accidents happen when someone’s excitement pushes them past their reasonable limit. The decision-making process is critical.
Before skating, check historical weather reports to assess whether ice has been building or melting. The larger the accumulation of days with temperatures below 0°C, the greater the potential for ice formation. Checking forecasts and historical data is just a small piece of assessing ice quality because air temperatures fluctuate throughout the day.
Work Safe Alberta says ice growth and capacity is directly linked to the climatic conditions and local climatic variations may have to be considered when applying temperature and snowfall data from nearby meteorological stations.
Lake Minnewanka doesn’t usually freeze until after Christmas when the temperatures drop enough to freeze its large body of water. This has to do with several factors: its size, depth and geographic location in the valley.
Ice transect near fault line, Lake Minnewanka, Lee Nordbye
After the fateful weekend in January when four people fell in, Zizka posted a four-part safety bulletin on Instagram. The behind-the-scenes footage showed the precautionary steps Zizka and his crew take before venturing out on unknown ice.
Zizka says he brings a rope, life jackets, ice screws and ice picks. Additionally, he wears a wetsuit that could save him from hypothermia in the event of submersion, because he often travels upwards of 20 kilometers a day on a lake.
Morrison from Raven Rescue says, “there’s a misconception that when folks fall into the ice, they’re going to die of hypothermia. While that is not impossible, most people drown versus succumbing to hypothermia.”
Zizka’s safety operation hinges on his crevasse rescue training. He creates a belay station by placing ice screws in the ice for an anchor and attaches a rope to his life jacket, so he can be safely pulled out. While roped up, Zizka ventures out the entire length of the rope, and places ice screws a metre apart to build a structural ice profile.
Safety belay, Bow Lake, Kris Andres
“If it’s windy out, we’ll bring radios, because sometimes you end up 50 metres out at the end of the rope and it’s impossible to communicate clearly without the radio,” says Zizka.
Once the ice test is complete, whoever tested the ice is belayed safely back to shore. At this point, the group discusses the weather, ice conditions and any other safety concerns. Zizka says their discussions weigh what they have to gain versus worst case scenarios before reaching a consensus that balances safety and enjoyment.
When people are prepared, their level of preparedness greatly increases their chances to have fun and return home safely. The incidents on Lake Minnewanka and other Rocky Mountain lakes come down to preparedness.
Parks Canada released a public safety bulletin on Jan. 23, recommending people come prepared. Zizka says that the days leading up to and following the 23rd were some of the best skating days of the entire season.
An issue is where the cascade river flows into Lake Minnewanka. Flowing water creates variable thickness and it is difficult to manage rapidly changing ice conditions. The moral of the story is that if you’re aware of your surroundings and can read the environment, then skating on wild ice can be an incredibly thrilling hobby.
“I went out on Minnewanka every day after that and had amazing experiences on six to eight inches of ice with zero concern for my safety,” says Zizka. “I think when there’s an activity that grows fast enough that the education component can’t keep up, that’s when you see those situations.”