撸奶社区climbers James Klemmensen, Amanda Bischke, Noah Besen and Shira Biner are not professional athletes, but in the summer of 2023 they elected to boldly go where no one has gone before.
Let's be clear: they were not the first people to visit Baffin Island's Coronation Glacier, but they were the first to climb the rock walls around said glacier. Forty-four days they spent in the air, on the road and upon frigid Arctic water, with roughly 2.5 of those weeks passed on the glacier itself.
The crew made a variety of first ascents ranging from 350 to 800 metres in elevation gain, and they documented the highlights in an upcoming film: The Gnar-Whal's Odyssey.
Klemmensen, who directed the movie, found it hard to describe the scope and significance of the trip.
"I'm really proud of what we did, and it's not necessarily because we were the first," he says after a brief pause. "It's not about conquest or ego or any of that—a lot of people have done very similar expeditions in other parts of Baffin Island, and they've put up much more impressive climbs than us. We just happened to be the first to open routes in [the area we chose].
"It really creates a meaningful experience, not having as much guidance and information. You have to be very self-reliant, and that created a really powerful adventure. Naming first ascents is a pretty common convention in climbing … and I hope that at some point someone will go climb the routes we did because it would be so cool to hear about their experience in this place."
A gnarly idea
Klemmensen has known Bischke and Besen for three or four years to date, and is particularly close with the latter. Meanwhile, Biner is a good friend of Bischke's. Once the quartet decided to attempt some type of expedition, they began researching and found their interest piqued by Cory Trépanier's paintings of Baffin Island.
Next they reached out to sea-ice physicist and mountain guide Christian Katlein, who provided them with intel about Coronation Glacier and its surroundings. Then the team got to work.
Bischke quarterbacked the operation, making logistical arrangements and keeping track of them via comprehensive spreadsheets. Biner kept the mood light with her penchant for song and dance, and her nursing background represented a medical safety net if necessary. Besen is the only one with big wall first ascent experience, and Klemmensen filmed it all.
The gang amassed 1,000 pounds of checked luggage, not including carry-on items. Their itinerary had them flying multiple legs to the hamlet of Qikiqtarjuaq, from which they would sea-kayak 70 kilometres to the eastern edge of Coronation Glacier. An additional 10 kilometres of hiking from there was required to reach their destination.
Before you ask: there is no deeper meaning behind the nickname "Gnar-Whal." Klemmensen and company just needed a name for their film, and in a lighthearted manner combined the words "gnarly" and "narwhal" because narwhals frequent Coronation Fjord.
Open and vulnerable
Things did not exactly go according to plan. A whole host of hurdles, from late-melting sea ice to unforeseen terrain, detoured the crew's journey on multiple occasions.
"We didn't have a ton of info on the area. It's not like climbing the Rockies, where you have hundreds of people going there and really detailed information on what to expect," Klemmensen says. "[Roadblocks] can be frustrating, but at the end of the day you know that you're going to have to adapt and come up with Plan Bs. I tried to start with a mindset of not being overly attached to expectations and remind myself: as long as we're coming home alive, I could appreciate the experience overall."
Even the tightest friendships can be strained when you're spending each waking hour with the same people in an unfamiliar environment, but the party members managed to keep leaning on each other.
"Sharing risk with people is a powerful way to connect. You'd be foolish to deny that doing a trip like this is really, really dangerous, and in order to manage that risk you're forced to be open and vulnerable about your fears and ambitions—then listen to others when they do the same," Klemmensen says. "It's four of us out there for a long time, so even when [you do have] some conflict, you eventually have to talk it out and move forwards as a team."
After returning to the mainland, Klemmensen used his filmmaking background to prune many hours of footage down to 28 minutes of runtime. That meant leaving lots of fun and meaningful moments on the cutting room floor, but it moulded the story the Gnar-Whals wanted to tell: a lighthearted and uplifting narrative of everyday people venturing outside the boundaries of everyday life.
Perhaps somebody else will be inspired to do the same.
"I know a lot of people who are more than capable of pulling off a trip like this, but it can be hard to believe in your ability to do that when most of the climbing media out there are focused on really high-level athletes," Klemmensen says. "I hope other people can see themselves in us. Of course, it's important to be realistic about your skills and your past experience … but if you figure out the building blocks for the skill set you need, you can use those skills for a bigger adventure. Know yourself, but dream big."
The Gnar-Whal's Odyssey premieres Nov. 18 at the Rio Theatre as part of this year's Vancouver International Mountain Film Festival lineup. Check out details at .
