I’m not even halfway up an ephemeral ice wall in Banff National Park before I find myself, quite literally, on a slippery slope. To my right is a sinewy gorge known as Johnston Canyon and the snow-covered hiking path from which I came. To my left are stunning pillars of frozen river water that blanket a craggy 100-foot cliff. I, of course, am precariously affixed to said cliff, and I’m clinging for dear life. I’ve come to this unspoiled spot to take a stab at ice climbing, but I’m beginning to feel like some reject from the Marvel Universe with my hands and feet sporting spiky weapons that I’m not quite sure how to use… (continue reading at The Chicago Tribune)