It started during that cold spell a few weeks ago, the allure to the Weeping Wall.

Ice climbing became more intimidating to me than ever before. It would be a challenge just to stay warm, let alone make it up to the top of the climb. Ryan Titchener and I started frequenting the Weeping Wall. Titchener: an avid climber. Myself: an interested girlfriend. The Weeping Wall made the day manageable. Close to the road with every level of climbing, we could wait for the sun to warm the Earth beyond what the long night left us, then jump onto the wall and take advantage of the short winter day we had before us. In living through those short, bitter cold days, the wall is uplifting.

The wall gets its name from the way it ‘weeps’ water. In the summer, it’s a wet, seeping wall. In the winter, however, this ‘weeping’ adds up into a massive sheet of ice. About 300 metres tall, it’s majestic and intimidating in size, yet inspiring in its beauty. From the road it appears very distinct on the left hand side driving south, not far from the Icefield Centre and only minutes north of the Rampart Creek Hostel, which is used almost exclusively by climbers in the winter. From the base looking up, it’s overwhelming - opaque whites, light blues, and turquoise; glistening in the sunlight, glowing in the moonlight. Multi-levelled and multi-layered, like a giant blanket thrown casually over the vertical rock, lifting and indenting as it wishes.

The Weeping Wall is legendary in the world of climbing: it was one of the first walls in the Canadian Rockies to be climbed. The first ascent of the Lower Wall was on Christmas day of 1973, by Bugs McKeith and Rob Wood. It has grown in popularity to become one of (if not the) most famous ice climb in Canada, attracting climbers from all over the world. The reasons are plentiful.

Climbing the Weeping Wall requires almost no approach time. There is a decent sized parking lot and well maintained Parks Canada outhouse at the roadside. A well-beaten path can be found once you cross the road. It heads straight up through the snow and trees for a steep, but quick, two-minute hike to the base of the wall. Here, the ascent receives almost all of what the sun has to offer. With the wall’s southern exposure, climbers are guaranteed whatever sun is shining through the middle of the day, keeping necessary feeling in hands and toes and noses, even during the coldest of the deep freezes. This lack of approach also means climbers can use the entire day on the ice - sunrise to sunset - without wasting time.

There are said to be at least 22 water fall ice and mixed climbs (climbing on both rock and ice, and sometimes snow, with ice tools) ranging from a WI 3 (intermediate, slightly leaning forward - such as the Snivelling Gully on the far left of the lower wall) to WI 6 routes on the far right and Upper Weeping wall (advanced/expert climbing, dead vertical to overhanging ice and rock). Climbing parties at different ability levels can climb here; like a glorified climbing gym for motivated people, or a rock crag that demands your complete attention. All routes are multi-pitched allowing for full, satisfying days spent outdoors.

My respect for the Weeping Wall grows each time I return. Climbing there has become somewhat ritualistic. First, start the day (way too) early: the alarm goes off, grunt, sigh, yawn, and shower. Second, a quick layering up of long johns and fleece, so as not to get too warm indoors. Third, head straight to the car with all the gear. Sometimes we look up to see stars still glowing. On these mornings the sun is still a faint glow to the south-east and we drive towards it as it rises. Fourth, a quick visit to one of our favourite local coffee and muffin stops, and we’re off.

I know I am not alone in saying that the Icefield Parkway drive is an amazing experience (assuming the weather permits, of course), and therefore, definitely a spectacular way to start a day. Driving into a rising sun, the sky turns light blue, then begins to glow pink and orange. Clouds make the colours shoot straight up, or gently push them out on an angle. To either side of the road the mountains glow, and your heart glows along with them.

By the time we reach the parking lot across from the wall we can’t help but feel refreshed and motivated. So, we put on harnesses, helmets, crampons and gloves, we gather up ropes and gear in our hands, and we head to the base. Two minutes later we look up in awe.

Each visit is different. Sometimes we show up and there is already a party on the route we had planned to climb. This can make for a disappointing day as we are forced to go elsewhere and must postpone our plans. Sometimes an unexpected cold, lapse of forgetfulness or lack of strength make it necessary to look, but not touch the ice. ‘Turn around’ days are always a let down for any awaiting adventure, but they do make the successful days much more special - and there are always successful days to follow.

Last week, after a couple of tries we arrived to find The Snivelling Gully in great condition and free for us to climb. It was a perfectly bluebird, sunny day and we had it to ourselves. We gloried in each swing of the ice axe, and each step up with the crampons. We smiled at the drips of water that fell on our faces, and once at the top, took many satisfyingly deep breaths as the sun once again lowered to hiding back behind the mountains. It felt good to be up on and amongst the ice that could make me feel so humble.

We can thank the deep freeze, but the warmer weather has come back, and we still return to the Wall almost every week. Perhaps it’s the aesthetics of the place, or the positive energy radiating from it. It could be the lovely drive down, or the ability it gives climbers to grow, but whatever it is that draws people from other parts of the world, and calls locals to return again and again. It is true, it is alive and I am thrilled that I have found it.