A long Burnie Glacier TR Feb '25

[cravenmorhead]

TL: DR: an avalanche on a guided hut trip led to rising tensions between guides and guests about avalanche danger and risk assessments. Eventually, our lead guide refused to ski guide for us while in the field. It’s a long story.

When you return from a week-plus long trip, friends and coworkers will often ask you “how was your trip?” Usually, the more distant the relationship is, the shorter the answer: “It was good,” or “It was nice to get away.” When I was flying home from Smithers, British Columbia, I struggled with what my answer to that question would be. I eventually settled on “challenging” as a short answer. Here’s the much longer version.

Cast of Characters

We were a somewhat loosely-connected group of skiers from Colorado. One couple had skied with our lead guide on a number of occasions and had skied with him at the hut - the Burnie Glacier Chalet - the year before. They wanted to return with a group that was ready to push longer days and bigger objectives if the weather allowed. Generally, our group was made up of advanced to expert skiers who fit the bill. A few of us had skied together extensively in a couple of small groups that were linked through friends or friends-of-friends. We were joined by one add-on at the hut for a group of 11 clients.

Our Lead Guide - who I’ve decided not to name here, though I’ll certainly respond to DMs - lived in Southern BC but had been taking guests to Burnie for a couple of weeks each season for a few years. He flew in on the heli with us, along with another guide who would be joining to help manage our group of 10 skiers. He didn’t like being called a Tail Guide, since he is fully certified and said he was co-guiding with Lead Guide, but I’ll use the term here just to keep them straight. Tail Guide was primarily a heli ski guide filling in some side work, and had never been to Burnie before. The Guides were joined by a Practicum/Aspirant Guide as well.

Snowpack

In mid-February 2025 the zone around Burnie had a decent snowpack, but it was on the tail of a multi-week drought that was ending two days before we flew in. A series of storm systems were stacking up to deliver wet, heavy snow to the zone, with freezing levels often falling at or above the hut but below the ridgelines in the area. We were not expecting any massive single-day snow totals, but we expected to be in for a week of relatively low visibility and fairly steady snow (or a snow/rain mix, depending on elevation). While avalanche danger was low at all elevations as I was packing my bags in Colorado, it was expected to increase rapidly with the new loads. Layers of concern included a rain crust a meter plus down that had gone relatively dormant, and a surface hoar/facet interface in the upper snowpack from mid-January.

Day 1: Orientation

Burnie requires a heli in and out, but it’s generally all human-powered skiing once you’re at the hut. Our heli took off in the rain and climbed into the snow near the hut. Once unloaded and got oriented, we did a hut briefing and then a quick avalanche rescue drill. Then we went out for a quick tour on the moraine field near the hut, where we skied wet, heavy snow.

More snow came in that night, and the next morning our guides rated the avalanche danger as considerable at and above treeline. We climbed into the Solitaire Meadows to do some tree skiing as it continued to drop mixed precipitation at the hut but snow in the skiing zones. We skied fairly low-angle trees that had some wind skin up top but decent conditions in the lower half. Lead Guide ski cut a wet, heavy D1 avalanche on the way back to the hut in lower terrain that went largely unremarked upon.

Welcome to PowTown

On the morning of our second full day we were looking at a few inches of snow at the hut and likely significantly more up high. The storm came with some wind, and the guides rated the hazard as High ATL, Considerable NTL, and Considerable BTL. The game plan was to climb the slopes behind the hut and ski some tree shots in powder.

We climbed through the coastal hemlock forest with some fairly wet precip, and then the wind and blowing snow picked up considerably when we hit treeline. Our skintrack took us up through one somewhat exposed roll that our guides sent us through one by one. One of the last skiers over the roll felt and heard a wumphing collapse that he reported to the guides once we regrouped in the wind and blowing snow. We were on a flatter shoulder that was above a pitch of obvious avalanche terrain that dropped into some scattered trees and some more rolling benches. The steeper section was probably the size and shape of half a football field - maybe a little less. I could probably just throw a baseball across it. I never measured the slope angle and the CalTopo/Gaia data in the zone is not great (no LIDAR coverage), but I would guess the slope angle of the main panel was in the low to mid 30 degree zone. Standing near the top of it, I had no doubt it was avalanche terrain, and as skiers dropped over the lip they would disappear from view unless you were standing at the edge. We had 6”-12” of new snow near treeline.

There was little to no discussion about where we were going when we were grouped at the top, other than “down.” Lead Guide ski cut the lip of the face, then took a few hard turns down it. He told Tail Guide to keep everyone right of his tracks, and proceeded to ski the rest of the face, pulling into some denser trees past the end of the open, steeper zone. Tail Guide had also tried to make a couple of stomps at the ridge, and he was staging skiers one at a time. Skiers 2 and 3 followed, one at a time, staying right of Lead Guide’s tracks.

Tail Guide determined that there wasn’t a lot of space right of Lead Guide’s tracks, and told Splitboarder that he could ski left of Lead Guide’s tracks, so long as he kept spacing tight. I was two skiers back in line, and had eyes on a less steep subridge to the right side of the steeper panel. Mentally, I questioned why we were skiing obvious avalanche terrain in high avy danger, but I wasn’t familiar with the snowpack and figured the guides knew something I didn’t.

Splitboarder dropped onto the face, just left of Lead Guide’s tracks, made a couple of turns, and the whole face fractured. Tail Guide yelled at Splitboarder to move left, but Splitboarder thought he might have a right exit and also did not want to move to his toe edge. He was caught, carried, and knocked off his feet. The debris moved slowly at first, and it looked like it might stop at the first bench, but then it sped up and carried Splitboarder through the first set of trees. He stayed mostly on top of the debris with his board downhill, essentially trying to do situps to keep his head and torso above the snow.

When the debris stopped moving Tail Guide skied the bed surface down to Splitboarder while Practicum held the group of us back to assess. Not long after, Tail Guide radioed back for us to follow, and we skied the bed surface down to Splitboarder and Tail Guide. Splitboarder’s board, feet, and lower legs were below the snow, but he was sitting up and talking. He said he had injured his arm, though he wasn’t sure how bad. We shoveled out his board and feet and descended to the rest of the group, who were in the process of looking for Skier 2’s skis. Only then did we realize that the debris hit the rest of the group too, pushing Skier 2 about 30 feet and flowing over some of the others’ feet at about boot-top height.

Practicum Guide took a pretty close look at the crown line, weak layer, and bed surface, though I’m not sure what the final figures were since that sort of information was shared on InfoEx but not through Avalanche Canada. I recall Practicum reporting that the crown line was 20cm to 60cm failing on the January surface hoar/facet interface. Ballpark, I’d estimate that the crown was 150’ wide and the slide ran 275 vertical feet, D2.

We recovered the missing skis and reconvened with the rest of the group. People were rattled, as expected. We got Splitboarder’s arm into a sling and proceeded to try and find a route back to the hut that was straightforward, though we ended up skiing additional avalanche terrain rather than returning via the skintrack.

[cravenmorhead]

Part 2:

Debriefing

We made it back to the hut and “debriefed.” Tail Guide took responsibility for countermanding Lead Guide’s directions to stay right of his tracks. None of the guides suggested skiing the steep panel was inappropriate, and Tail Guide suggested that had we skied mellower terrain first and gotten no result, we might have been lured into even steeper terrain. We discussed the relative lack of discussion at the ridgeline, and the guides discussed the idea that lots of guided groups just want guides to take them skiing - they aren’t interested in long planning discussions. But they offered to engage in a much more collaborative process moving forward when it came to planning and decision points, both due to the group’s wishes and as a method of processing the avalanche. Lead Guide told the group that if we wanted to dial the avalanche exposure down to zero and still go skiing we could do that, since it was our trip and our program. That evening we saw some isolated clearing that did not reveal any natural avalanche activity on the neighboring peaks.

Splitboarder’s arm looked like he had primarily impacted his bicep on the tree, and his bicep showed heavy bruising. After a phone consultation with an ortho, he determined that he did not have to evacuate to town, he just needed to get evaluated within the next couple of weeks. Through some range of motion work, we ultimately guessed that he had torn his pectoral from its insertion point in the humerus - when lying down, he could not bring his arms together in front of his chest if he isolated the motion from his deltoid.

Back in the Field

At our breakfast meeting the next morning, the guides told us that the previous day had been a busy one across BC for natural and human-triggered avalanches, primarily on the same mid-January surface hoar/facet interface. They rated our danger level at Considerable ATL, Considerable NTL, Moderate BTL, primarily based on the lack of natural avalanche activity in our zone. They also noted that our zone was relatively isolated, and there were few other skiers or mechanized operators in the area, so we had relatively few observations to work with. At one point Lead Guide referred to the avalanche as a “wrist slap,” which garnered a quick push-back from the group.

The plan was to push into the Solitaire Meadows tree zone again, with an eye towards pushing into the alpine if visibility and conditions allowed.

As we reached treeline we had some clearing visibility, which revealed a high, low-angled glacier (the Solitaire Glacier) guarded by some steeper moraine fields. We had a 45-minute discussion about where we were heading and what the likely dangers were (remember, we had a 10-person group and 3 guides, Skier 2 stayed back). I would later refer to this rally point as the “Kumbaya Meadow.” The plan was to go to Breakfast Rock, then up the Rib, to access the Solitaire Glacier. My primary worry was what I’ll call the Panel, which the guides confirmed was avalanche terrain. Things looked like this:



As the face got sun, we saw the new snow start to release from the rock bands below the Rib. Eventually, Lead Guide noted that we could discuss all we wanted but it was cutting into ski time. The guides strongly suggested that we proceed to Breakfast Rock, where we could get a better look at the terrain and conditions without yet exposing ourselves to much avalanche terrain. At one point Lead Guide argued that if we had wanted to go tree skiing, we would have gone to the Monashees. We agreed to climb to Breakfast Rock.

Once we reached Breakfast Rock, we could see that the Panel was further away from the Rib than it looked from Kumbaya Meadow. We agreed to continue up the Rib, and skied our first lap down from ¾ of the way up the Rib down past Breakfast Rock and down to our skintrack. We re-ascended the skintrack to the same location and Lead Guide wanted to push across the Panel, though a number of us had expressed reservations about it. He reasoned that the prior day’s problem was caused by buried surface hoar, and we were less likely to find that in the alpine. He proceeded across the Panel, followed by two spaced-out guests. He dug a hand pit and sheared off an 18” slab on the buried surface hoar/facet interface. He then retreated, beckoning the guests to follow, and we headed back to the hut.

Summit Day

The next day, though we woke to low clouds again, the guides’ A Plan was to ascend Loft Peak. Like Solitaire, it involved climbing a section of avalanche terrain to reach a high, lower-angled glacier. Since it looked like our only likely chance at getting high in any sort of visibility, we agreed. A few stayed at the hut for a rest day, including Skier 2, who would end up cross country skiing all but one remaining day post-avalanche.

We toured up through breakable crust BTL, and when we reached the steep section NTL Lead Guide nearly pulled the plug due to the standard route crossing avalanche terrain and his discovery that the surface hoar/facet problem was living in this zone too. After some prospecting and some long discussions with the other guides, the guides announced that they had punched in a “zero exposure” skintrack through the trees that got us through the steep section. Nothing moved on the steep, treed track, and we found ourselves in the alpine under low clouds and light snow. We continued up the glacier in low visibility, light snow, and moderate-but-increasing winds. While I didn’t love the conditions, the terrain was not dangerous, so I plodded along. Halfway up the glacier Lead Guide shouted into the wind that he thought that it would be worth summiting Loft and the skiing might be good. Nobody objected, so we continued.

We summited in similar conditions, without much to see. We skied hardpack that transitioned to funky, hooky snow for 1000’ of vert. Then we had 300’ of soft turns on cold snow on the knob before dropping into fairly wet, heavy snow at the bottom of a major avalanche path, Ptarmigan. After some survival skiing through the trees we were back on the flats and headed back to the hut.

Things continued to warm, and the next day we woke to heavy breakable crust at the hut. The plan was to return to Solitaire Meadows with an eye towards going back up the Rib to Solitaire Glacier. My impression was that conditions would likely involve crusts at worst and hot, heavy pow at best so I took the day off. From what I understand, our group was starting to split down the middle between the Believers, who had an “In Guides We Trust” mentality, and the Skeptics, who had a variety of concerns about surface snow conditions, visibility, avalanche danger, and trip planning. One of the Skeptics, Skier 2, who had been cross-country skiing to this point, felt like she was the victim of a bait-and-switch during the day. The group skied two laps in the trees, and she said she would be up for another if they went back to the same zone. Instead, they climbed up into the alpine on the Rib into poor visibility. Another Skeptic wanted to stick to the trees but was outvoted. Fortunately, nothing moved, and the group - particularly the Believers, reported a good day of skiing.

[cravenmorhead]

Breakup Day

The Believers vs. Skeptics divide came to a head on the last full day. Conditions were much the same - low clouds but with maybe a clearing trend, a skiff of new snow overnight, and warm temps. Guides rated avalanche danger as Considerable ATL, Considerable NTL, Low BTL, reasoning that we did not get much new snow and it came without much wind. Our plan was similar as well - back to Solitaire Meadows with an eye towards getting on the glacier. When I suggested in the meeting that I was not particularly interested in glacier skiing in low visibility, Lead Guide argued that I should be interested in it because that was where we would find the best snow. A couple of the Skeptics hung back at the hut because they were tired of feeling like they were fighting with the guides.

When we reached Kumbaya Meadow, we heard what first sounded like a jet engine. It was a large natural avalanche coming from Hut Peak across the valley, though we could not see exactly where due to the low clouds. Tail Guide did a quick “everybody good?” and started to head out. When we asked where we were going, he said to the glacier. We pointed out that the glacier was the plan if visibility cleared, and low clouds still largely obscured our views. He said the weather was never going to be bluebird, the trend was to clearing, and we should proceed to Breakfast Rock to evaluate further.

By the time we reached Breakfast Rock we were in 30cm of new snow and winds of 20mph gusting to 25-30, with significant wind transport. We only paused briefly at Breakfast Rock, moving up the Rib. I mentioned to Practicum that I saw three red flags for avalanche danger - natural avalanches, 30cm of new snow, and high wind transport. She suggested I raise the issues to Lead Guide. So I did as we paused ? of the way up the Rib. By this point it was windy and snowing, and nobody seemed in the mood to discuss much. Lead Guide floated the idea of shifting the day’s format to more of a clinic if we had more questions. A few of the Believers said they trusted the guides, and so Lead Guide told Tail Guide to continue, and if anyone wanted to discuss further they could hang back.

Three of us stayed with Lead Guide. We decided we would prefer to ski the trees, rather than push into the alpine with a complicated snowpack and complicated terrain we couldn’t see. Lead Guide was visibly frustrated, made his “clinic” suggestion again, and Skeptic 1 said we’d rather be guided. Lead Guide’s backcountry touring lesson seemed intent on supporting his trip plan. “Push your pole into the snow. See how it goes from less consolidated to more consolidated? To me, that’s a sign of stability.” When I pole tested both sides of the Rib and got very different results (since it was holding a wind slab) he seemed nonplussed. He criticized where we were transitioning and suggested that it was “our program” as to where we wanted to ski. Skeptic 1 said “well, if we’re in a clinic setting, I have a question - what were the green flags you saw that convinced you to put us on the slope where Splitboarder was avalanched?” Lead Guide’s answer was essentially that the slope was not that big and consequences couldn’t be too serious.

On the way back to the trees we skied through a small gully system and Lead Guide ski cut and triggered a D1 wind slab/storm slab behind us. He acknowledged that it confirmed our wind slab hypothesis.

We ascended the treed zone and, as we got to the top, asked Lead Guide where he thought we should ski. His response was that he was no longer ski guiding us and it was up to us. He said he had never had to explain his decisions so much to a group in his life, and that our questions - then he caught himself - “well, the questions are fine, but the tone of your questions suggest that you’ve lost faith in my decisions. And I don’t want to guide you somewhere just to have something happen and for you to say it’s my fault. So it’s your program, I’m just here for risk management and to keep you out of trouble.”

We skied the shot and Skeptic 2 tried to mend some fences. On top for Lap 2, Lead Guide refused to set a track for our descent.

Before we climbed for Lap 3, we considered returning to the more complicated gully system. Skeptic 1 said he would only head that way if Lead Guide went back to guiding. Lead Guide and Skeptic 1 tried to clear the air - Skeptic 1 discussed how Splitboarder could have died, and Lead Guide rejected the idea that the avalanche could have been fatal. When Skeptic 1 fired back “you didn’t see it, you were in the trees,” Lead Guide stepped off the skintrack and beckoned us forward, reinforcing that he was no longer guiding us.

We cleared the air a little bit on the way up - Lead Guide confirmed that he took the avalanche seriously and was not happy about it. The Skeptics, and particularly Skeptic 1, reiterated that they were not trying to come down on Lead Guide, but wanted to watch out for their own safety and believed their reservations were well-founded.

The Believers reported a great day of skiing up on the glacier. When Lead Guide saw their tracks he remarked that it was a “Burnie Classic.” The Believers remote triggered a D1 avalanche and Tail Guide ski cut a separate D1.

On the last day the group skied one of the lower-angle gully shots with Tail Guide and Practicum, and before we knew it we were on the heli back to Smithers.

When we returned to cell service we learned that an Avalanche Warning had gone into effect for the zone at 5pm on our last full day of the trip due to widespread activity on the mid-January layer. A Warning our guides did not mention in the briefing on our last half day. The headline was "Natural avalanche activity may taper off, but the snowpack remains primed for human triggering. Start with a very conservative trip plan and back off if you encounter signs of instability."

[cravenmorhead]

Takeaways

As you might guess from the length of the essay, I’ve spent some time processing all of this. Some takeaways:

• It likely would have been helpful to have a discussion early in the trip about our respective risk tolerances and goals for the trip. Skier 2 was not willing to roll the dice on getting caught in an avalanche in exchange for better skiing. I was not interested in skiing “classic” lines in the area if it meant doing so in lousy visibility. Maybe that information would have changed the program for the week, but then again, I thought we were quite clear about similar issues in post-avalanche discussions, to little effect.
  
• Relatedly, I think the guides had clear ideas about what they believed guests wanted. “Guests want “classic” lines, good snow, and they don’t want to eat tracks.” And some guests want to be pushed out of their comfort zone. I think their expectations accurately described the mindset of the Believers, but not the Skeptics.
  
• I wasn’t comfortable with the slope that avalanched but did not speak up, since I figured the guides knew something I didn’t. I wish I would have said something when I felt uncomfortable with the pitch.
  
• Tone matters, and guides are human. But staying within your personal envelope of what is acceptable risk is more important than anyone’s feelings.
  
• While it’s easy to second-guess what happened on Breakup Day, I am still glad we had the Red Flag discussion. And when avalanche conditions, A-Plan terrain, and group dynamics all appeared complicated, I am happy with the decision to step down into simpler terrain. While it’s easy to have FOMO about the ski day the Believers had, I think it’s important to debrief the process, not the result, in situations where we have to make decisions with incomplete information (credit to Annie Duke for this concept). At the end of the day, I like Cody Townsend’s priorities of 1. Get home safe; 2. Have fun; 3. Ski an objective. Through that lens, almost every bail is a good bail.
  
• As it turns out, an open group dynamic where questions and discussions are encouraged is more important to me than just about any other aspect of a ski day. I’ve skied a lot of bad snow and a lot of lousy conditions. I’ve never had less fun on the skintrack than I did on this trip.

[Arctos Guides]

Clearly there is still some debriefing that needs to happen. I am happy to make some time for that, perhaps we could organize a Google Meeting at some point in the next few weeks? I am not going to get into a public online forum my side vs. your side debate; your TR is your perspective and I am not trying to discount it, but I do feel the account is a bit skewed to say the least. One point I do feel it is important to clear up is the https://avalanche.ca/spaw/0411bcba-a665-4481-9f6f-5ce7ece41d1c"]Avalanche Canada SPAW[/URL] was issued for Feb 28-4. It was due to the significant warming that Southern BC experienced, while here at Burnie we didn't get the warming. During your week at Burnie, we were totally transparent with you regarding avalanche activity and forecasted hazard during your trip. To clear up one other detail, the photo you posted about the route up to the Solitaire Glacier misidentifies the standard up track route. Never would I walk accross the feature you labled as "The Panel". The standard up track crosses the morraine in the foreground and follows a low angle gulley behind it to avoid "The Panel". Anyway, I respect your right to express your sentiments, but I would have appreciated having another discussion prior to you posting this on the internet. As a guiding team, Dave, an IFMGA mountain guide, and I did our absolute best to provide a safe and enjoyable ski experience for the entire group. We can all agree there were some challenging snowpack conditions and group dynamics. Please let me know if you would like to set up a time to discuss the week further, I would be happy to facilitate that.

[MagnificentUnicorn]

Sounds like your guides had an excess of hubris and objectives of their own.

I wouldn’t enjoy skiing with a group that large. The guides should have discussed with the group about splitting up into two groups. One group that wanted to follow blindly and get after it and one that wanted to have some fun and get home safely.

I’m of the mindset that conservative decision making based on conditions and terrain is priority one.

[cravenmorhead]

Edited to add the specifics of the SPAW, which went into effect for our zone the last full day of our trip at 5pm: https://cfjctoday.com/2025/02/27/spe...tions-develop/

https://avalanche.ca/forecasts/archi...ng=-127.748887

[Angle Parking]

Posting a MIN report on Avalanche.ca abut this incident would be helpful.

[XXX-er]

Glad no one was killed, I used to spend a lot of time in there
Burnie gets rented to a number of different guides & assistant guides in a season

[cravenmorhead]

Quote (the quote function seems borked): "To clear up one other detail, the photo you posted about the route up to the Solitaire Glacier misidentifies the standard up track route. Never would I walk accross the feature you labled as "The Panel." The standard up track crosses the morraine in the foreground and follows a low angle gulley behind it to avoid "The Panel."
My recollection is that the ascent climbed a combination of the Rib and the gully behind it. I believe the aborted climb after the hand shear revealed the buried PWL was on the looker's right side of the Panel, close to where the Panel and Rib intersect. I don't mean to suggest the line was to center-punch the Panel. Though I do believe the aborted ascent crossed avalanche terrain based on the perceived slope angle. Additionally, if it wasn't avalanche terrain, there would be little reason to abort the climb due to the discovery of the PWL.

[goldenboy]

Thanks for the write-up.

Guides have a difficult job. They're responsible for a bunch of people that they don't know (unless it's a long time client), and in many cases those people want to "get the goods". I haven't done a lot of guided skiing, but that would be my expectation with a guide. I can ski low angle easily enough on my own, and I can also take half my vacation figuring out the snowpack on my own, before I get to ski the stuff I'd like to. But all that has to be met with the reality of the snow on the ground.

I was listening to a podcast just the other day when a long time IFMGA guide said that for a certain subset of students (both rec and pro tracks), there's this thought of "if I just take this class, I can outsmart the avalanche problem". That starts with a L1 and goes up through the AMGA ski guide and advanced ski guide courses (or Canadian/other tracks). But as he said, there's simply no good way to outsmart an "old snow" problem. I know a lot of guides and I've definitely seen those that are ultra conservative to those that think the have the special sauce and thread the needle on a regular basis. There is a guide that I don't know who basically markets himself as "Your L1 and L2 scared you? Well, take my class and I'll show you how to ski the steep and deep". I think that particular guide would be well served by a move to a more stable maritime snowpack, but whatever. I'm not saying this Burnie Glacier guide falls into that category, just saying it exists IMO.

Anyway, I'm not sure what my point is other than some free form thoughts.

[XXX-er]

I'm not saying this Burnie Glacier guide falls into that category,





Just gona point out this was A Guide at Burnie these guides were not the owner or any of the local guides so any guide who has passed the exam can rent Burnie from ze guide who in the past was a guide examiner