Night of Glass and SnowExploring the Ice Towers at Mt Sima

This is Mt Sima in winter: a short drive from downtown Whitehorse, a ski hill by day and a small-scale, high-impact winter playground when the mercury drops. The Ice Tower Adventure Tour compresses the Yukon’s broad, slow histories into a two-hour, sensory-dense experience—ice trekking, a zipline that releases into a courtyard of frozen sculptures, illuminated ice tunnels, and the kind of hot-chocolate-and-campfire slow that makes the cold worthwhile.

The towers themselves are the season’s artful intersection of weather and intention. The Yukon’s harsh freeze, fed by cold continental air and enough moisture to form rime and solid sheets of ice, sculpts formations that echo the region’s glacial past. For millennia, glaciers carved the plateaus and river valleys here; today’s ice towers feel like a small, vertical replay of those forces. The area also sits on the ancestral lands of the Kwanlin Dün and Ta’an Kwäch’än First Nations—these are places with stories as deep as the frost, and visiting with respect for the land and local culture is part of the experience.

What makes the tour work is the balance of spectacle and simple logistics. You don’t need to be a technical climber to enjoy it: guides kit you out, walk you through basic ice-trekking technique, clip you into the zipline and talk you through potential hazards. Group size is intentionally small—tours accommodate up to 12 people—so there’s time for instructors to calibrate instruction, answer questions, and pace the group when pathways narrow between towers.

The zipline is a brief, bright contrast to the slow art of walking through frozen architecture. You launch over a pocket of forest and snow and, for ten seconds, gravity takes you past the towers' glinting faces. It’s an efficient thrill—enough to quicken your pulse but short enough that the view remains the main attraction. Back on the snow, guides lead short forays through carved tunnels and around serried columns, encouraging participants to test traction, listen to the panicked-sounding creaks, and watch the way the wind polishes icicles into mirrors.

Practicalities matter here: the tour is a fixed two-hour outing, priced from roughly USD 126–169 depending on extras, and it’s laid out to work for families, small groups, and mixed-ability parties. Dress for the Yukon rather than your local late-winter day: insulated, waterproof boots; a layering system that handles wind and sweat; warm gloves with liners; and an appetite for standing still long enough for the cold to sink into your bones and then be driven out by a steaming mug beside the fire.

If you’re going for photographs, plan for low, directional light and high-contrast scenes. Metal tripods can be awkward in deep snow, so a stable, low profile or a monopod is useful. Don’t expect big daylight panoramas—this is an evening or late-afternoon spectacle where highlights are built by artificial and low natural light.

Beyond the towers, Whitehorse is compact and ready for unwinding. After the tour, a short ride back into town leads you to eateries that prize local protein and hearty carbs—braised game, root-vegetable stews, and sourdough-style bannock. Local breweries and a handful of friendly pubs are good places to warm up and trade notes about the evening’s cold and the sky: if conditions cooperate, the Northern Lights can lace the ceiling overhead.

This trip is not about endurance or alpine conquest. It’s an invitation to experience winter’s architecture up close—hands-on enough to feel the cold, social enough to be a shared memory, and short enough to fit into a single night after a day in town. For travelers who prize sensory detail and efficient logistics, the Ice Tower Adventure Tour is a compact, well-run way to step into the Yukon’s winter world without signing up for an expedition.

If you go: move deliberately, layer aggressively, and let the cold be part of the story. The towers don’t move, but the way you experience them—shivering, laughing, skating on the edge of awe—will. Two hours here feel like a small, crystalline lifetime.