Tikal Ruins, Guatemala

Nestled in an expansive jungle wilderness, the Mayan city of Tikal contains enormous pyramids of rock which reach high into the surrounding jungle canopy. Visiting ruins is pretty common in Central America - so we aren't to amped about the rocks. I used to try to get into the culture; to learn about the civilization and all that jazziness. Now I kind of hang out in the temples because they feel different and its cool to imagine what it was all like. Its really a fantasy world. But here in Tikal, it's the jungle that captures us.

Tourists are forbidden to climb Temple II but we're pretty bad ass. Here we are sitting on Temple II looking out at Temple I because nobody is around at noon when it's super hot. To help your imagination, the temple we are sitting on looks very similar to the one across the plaza.

Light fades and we end up stumbling around in the dark jungle to find the exit. When we do exit the park, the ranger approaches and asks "do you want to sleep on the temple tonight?" It's a good suggestion. We ask some questions and quickly learn that he only knows one sentence of English. Thank goodness we have been practising our Spanish because our tent is in Antigua. I ask "Tienes uno tenta?" Tenta is not a real word in Spanish. Instead of tenta, he hears Do you have a tienda (store)? and since this makes no sense whatsoever - he simply responds with "Si! No problemo." We ask for a blanket and for a mattress (frezada and colchón) in a similar fashion, and receive a look of recognition and a simple "Si! No problemo"

Okay, let's go for it.

We negotiate a price and then walk 25 minutes through the jungle in the dark using a cellphone to light the path. We cross into the large Mayan plaza and ascend Temple II. At the top, we are level with the jungle canopy and pleased with the setting. But to our surprise, our guide has no tent, no blanket, no mat. He lied! I call him out: "Hables una tenta!" (Makes no sense at all - You say a store!) He responds by pulling three industrial black garbage bags from his satchel. He calmly points to a slab of concrete for us to lie on and asks for his money. We are not pleased. We try to get him to bring a blanket, give up and try to get a better price, then give up and just complain. In the end,  we just say "Probamos" (we try)

There are stars and a half moon overhead and the lightning storm on the horizon looks like it will miss us. At least he gives us a good price - the required park entrance free for the next day plus $2 per person. It is actually the cheapest place to stay in town. Things are a bit creepy when he leaves, then just uncomfortable as our bones argue with concrete through a bed of socks and sandals. The endless grunts of the howler monkeys sound like a depressed jungle cat and sometimes like the T-Rex from Jurassic Park. Toucans win the prize for best bird call ever. We embrace, and listen to the jungle as the moon crosses the sky.

Eventually the sun peaks over the canopy and we descend. In no time, we are just two more tourists in the crowd.

View of Temple II (where we slept) from Temple IV - a partially excavated temple deeper in the jungle.

Julia styles it out on the garbage bags wrapped in her nicest of silk liners.

Searching for a Good Camera

"Just throw it! I'll take a picture of you." Julia is swimming deep offshore in Laguna Atitlan. I'm diving off something or other.

"It'll sink if we miss it," I've been here before. This camera has history. There has been more than one rescue from the bowels of a water body.

"Don't miss." She has come in closer now. Egg beater with both hands ready to receive.

I draw back my arm. Take a step forward and swing the camera in a gentle arch. I even remember adjusting for the wind. The camera sails through the air. Short! It's a terrible toss. Two feet short of the target. Kerglunkah.

Julia chases the flickering reflection of the camera screen as it sinks but thick weeds halt her pursuit after a little over a meter. We exchange glances and some laughter at the most unfortunate of "Told ya so"s.  Some naked children see the blunder and come to lend a hand with the rescue. They rely on vision - but it's too dark to see down there.

We begin a grid search using only touch on the bottom of the lake. Lots of weeds and a beer can. Hopeless. I excavate a 3m x 3m square over a period of about an hour. It's more than 200 lbs of water soaked vegetation. Then start to search in the dark using touch.

Search

All of the photos from the trip are lost! I'm kicking myself. Stupid. At least I have my cellphone camera.

Twenty minutes pass. The lake is landlocked stagnant water with no rivers out. The ground is covered in cans and  there is a small recess in the middle of the search zone where the garbage gets really deep. Gross.

But it's here somewhere!

The sun departs behind thick clouds and soon it's raining. I'm out of breath and shivering in the cold. I've been over this grid so many times. Despair.

An hour in this garbage and Julia arrives with a diving mask, a snorkel, and rejuvenated hope.
Another half hour and we have given up. But you can see almost a foot with the mask - which is a great help. Just one more search.

I came up out of the water shooting with a happy Julia!

Mask and some of the weeds.

One cold rescuer.

Guatemala Motocicleta - San Pedro á la Laguna

Road trip! Guatemala style.

Trees and vines and dirt fly past our heads. Julia is on the back of the motorcycle hugging me with both arms and both legs tight at my waist. I'm in the driver's seat on the fringe of control. In the flow state. She says "careful" with her tightening grip as we take a tight corner. Just another school bus oncoming towards us. This time the bus is using all of our lane except for the width of one motorcycle. We find the hole.

After six days in Central America we finally settled on a plan, a country, a route. El Salvador had the cheapest flights. Then it took a few days surfing in El Tunco and a few more in transit before we found a home in Antigua, Guatemala. Then we just waited to be inspired.

On our second day in Antigua, we were looking to purchase a motorcycle. If we could arrange a good deal for a good bike, we would learn to ride it. The folks at CaTours helped us meet ex pats in Antigua with motorbikes and eventually we were able to arrange a rental with a fellow Vancouverite living in Antigua. Check out this sick DR 250 S Suzuki. There's off road tires, and enough seat for two. Kick start only. No luxuries.

Kenn poses with the candidate bike on our first meeting.

We were eager to depart for a circuit which would take us into the highlands, to the northern jungles, and then back south along the Caribbean coast. But neither of us have ridden a bike and Julia hasn't handled a manual transmission. We had an incredible instructor from Quebec who prepared us over a span of two days. Thanks Frenchie!

Posing on the second day lesson. Up on some volcano somewhere.

Our bags were too heavy, so we trimmed the fat and dropped two thirds of our stuff. Just the essentials - and the Frisbee.

After we graduate, we depart at 10 am sharp. First stop is San Pedro á la Laguna - a chill hangout in the Guatemalan highlands nestled on the far corner of Laguna Atitlan. Chaotic traffic and absent road signs kept us on our toes as we found the Pan-American highway and cruised more than 18 kilómetros beyond our first turn-off. Regresamos!

Random road

Soon we are cruising through the volcanic highlands towards Laguna Atitlan. The twisting pavement is a biker's dream. We reach a river crossing where the bridge has been washed away. No problems. Vroom vroom as we take the river head on.

No bridge!

Cruising on dirt roads we take a hard corner where recent erosion has moved the dirt into a small wall. We don't see it until it is too late. Emergency braking procedures!! But the back wheel locks and Julia starts to slide out sideways. I release the brake and we take the bump head on at reduced speed. It went well. But a scare.

We get our first views of the lake and soon reach Panachel and find a nice break at the local fair.

Then we reach Solola and decide to push through impending storm rains and take a faint dirt road along the north side of the lake through small rural towns, several dead ends, and another river crossing. When we reach Utatlan, we decide to keep pushing on despite impending nightfall. San Pedro or bust!

With the sun setting we reach yet another small town named after yet another saint and ask, "How far to San Pedro?" In a five-minute Spanglish conversation we decipher that San Pedro is 48 kilómetros back in the direction we came from ... then a second villager confirms it, "Caraterra termino" - the road is out.

It has been a great first day out on the bike so we abandon hopes of reaching San Pedro today and race the setting sun back east to anywhere with a room for the night. In Utatlan we settle into Hostalaje Universal well after dark. Then we hit the town and enjoy some delicious corn husks stuffed with potato and chicken in the local plaza.

So ends our first day on the roads of Guatemala.
Tomorrow, Julia is driving! Gulp.

Monmouth Creek - Day 2

We had a grand-ol’ time crossing the Squamish River on Day 1 but forgot our map and our printed copy of the trail. We decided to take the crossing a tad bit seriously here on Day 2, and so we would swim across the river towing our gear behind us in dry bags. It is a glacial river (freakin’ freezing) and so we’d have to rent a wetsuit for Julia. We would learn late in the second morning that you can’t really rent a wetsuit in Squamish and that the friendly staff at Valhalla Pure strongly recommends against swimming across a river with so many hidden dead heads and sweepers. We listened, and thought their comments oddly applicable to a river crossing based on a stratagem of inflatables. We rented a kayak.

The crossing went smoothly.

We knew the trail generally follows a creek up the side of a steep face. We had a written description of the trail and a topographical map of the region, but no map which actually showed the trail. So we approached the creek from the south and then followed a bunch of empty creek beds up to eventually find the creek. Once we had the creek, we waded up it until we found the first waterfalls. All the information required to complete this hike without wading or bushwhacking is readily available online or from Valhalla Pure in Squamish, but it was actually quite good fun to wander our way through the flood plains.

Now it was just following a very nice trail up and up through an endless series of waterfalls. It was really the nicest hiking I’ve ever done around Vancouver.

Some shots of the waterfalls:

This one was really cool! The water has carved a deep tunnel in the rock peering through the tunnel there is just an eruption of waterfalls at the back of it.  I can’t wait to come back and see this one when the water is really high.

Eventually we found the arch. I had read about it online but not seen it. The water has formed a really smooth tunnel through quite a long span of granite and left some amazing features unlike anything I’ve ever seen. We had a great dip here.

And the climber in me just had to go out onto the arch and take a closer look. Some dirty 5.6 moves getting out here, but I really felt happy sitting there on the arch. Truly a great moment!

For me, it was a beautiful swim home. Epic shot here from Julia in the kayak who navigated well in the high winds.

Monmouth Creek – Day 1

I was on The Chief alone when I met a cheerful man who was about to jump off the cliff I was climbing on. He was aiming to paraglide on a little 20 lbs glider, but the wind wasn’t quite right and so we were wasting some time together. We had a nice chat and as he was leaving he pointed into the Tantalus Range and singled out a small peak across the Squamish River. “Best day hike you’ll ever find. You really have to go there.”

I looked into it and found a hike which followed a creek up to Echo Lake. Maps indicated what was obviously visible from my vantage in Squamish – steeps granite with many narrow waterfalls. Gathering information through word of mouth was difficult. Most people entering the Tantalus Range from Squamish do so via the logging roads far down river. I need to get to the west bank where the river empties into the Howe Sound, and this region is accessed only by boat. Not insurmountable, but it means that despite the incredible proximity to the main highway the hike is not broadly known.

Julia had some time off work and she suggested that we attempt the river crossing “on the cheap.” We would buy an inflatable two-man boat from Walmart ($9) and an inflatable Orca Whale ($8) and load up the whale like a pack mule with enough stuff for two nights of camping.  We giggled furiously at the idea – and so it was on! Stoke factor high.

Trouble erupted when Walmart, Canadian Tire, and London Drugs were all sold out of inflatable boats. We had a downtrodden walk on which we mourned the loss of our plan and discussed alternatives. Perhaps renting a kayak for the three days? We decided on a risky option – to buy a Four-in-One Double Queen-Size Inflatable Air Bed from Walmart ($110) with plans to return it for a full refund. It would be a real gamble.


Ready to embark:

Epic shot

At the far side of the river:

Mission Status: Amusing Failure

Sky Walker's Traverse

Julia came up from Vancouver on her day off and I took her out for her first big climb in many years. At the top of the climb we swam in the pools and waterfalls right before the river plunges down 200 meters off the side of the cliff we just climbed.

Pool bathing and waterfall showering

Some folks had a very impressive highline set here above the falls – wasn’t enough time for me to get on it L But this guy was really good.

Chasing the Top 100 in Squamish (Angel's Crest)

I took this time off for a variety of reasons: mostly just to take a break and poke around; but maybe scope out some next steps in my life. Definitely, I want to spend time thinking about problems which are not computer related and to experiment with some different lifestyles.

On my first sabbatical I travelled thousands of kilometers and visited thirteen different countries on three continents. It was a great experience but at the end I was left wishing that I had invested more in relationships  and wished that I had taken the time to explore places more deeply. There would surely be a tradeoff - meeting fewer people and seeing fewer places – but I'm sure it is the right way to do things this time around. So my goals for this sabbatical are focusing on fewer pursuits, smaller distances, and increased depth.

After returning from the Sunshine Coast I had a very mellow birthday with friends and the new Batman movie. Thanks to everybody (both local and remote) for a great day (even though the movie was crappy).

I loaned my only pair of house keys to a friend and he unfortunately took them on his trip home to Ontario, so I was locked out of my house for about six days. I embraced this and decided to get deeper into climbing and head up to Canada’s most popular climbing destination: just an hour’s drive to Squamish.

I'm playing around with a recently published list of Squamish’s best 100 climbs - called the Squamish Top 100. They are distributed across a variety of difficulties and many different climbing areas, so it really encourages quite a bit of exploration. I roughly go for one per day and explore the area around it.

Tim and I started the exploration on the first weekend with Angel’s Crest. This is about a 500 meter climb which using traditional protection up a crest to the summit of the Stawamus Chief climbing at 10b. It is one of my favourite long routes from the ground to the top of the chief. 

Tim leading Angel's Crack (10b)

Kenn leading on Angel's Crest (10b)

Tim and I have some history on this climb. We tried this route for the first time two years starting at 5am and accidentally walked beyond the start of the climb until we found a different but similar looking climb. We followed our noses up and up for over twenty hours of wild and dirty climbing and when we finished (well after midnight) we thought we had completed Angel’s Crest “give or take a pitch or two”. Two weeks later we figured out that we wandered into a totally separate gully system and climbed a line up the infamously dirty North-North Arête.

In stark contrast to our first attempt, our climb this week went smoothly. In fact, the crux pitches felt relatively casual for the grade and we finished the route with enough light for a swim as the sun went down. Great day!

Don't have a good summit shot of the both of us - but have one good one of each of us. This has made me really excited for a few weeks in Squamish exploring new vertical terrain - just one hour’s drive from my house!

Sunshine Coast - Desolation Sound Kayaking

Three days kayaking, fishing, and snorkeling through the Desolation Sound - a beautiful marine wildlife reserve on the north of the Sunshine Coast.

We camped on our own private island the first night right in the heart of the sound. Eagle feathers, seals, and dolphins.

And found a pretty amazing spot to settle in and roast up some veggies on the second night.

Pictures by Uwe. See more here.

Sunshine Coast Climbing

Uwe and Anja and Felix and Anke all ditch their vans in Squamish and the five of us move into the Ambulance to share the cost of ferries as we head for eight days of climbing and kayaking on the Sunshine Coast.

First stop is Powell River. I’m pushing hard for us to attempt a 10-pitch route up Psyche Slab in the Eldred Valley. It’s rough country and you can’t drive on the logging roads between 4am to 8pm, so we take a day to familiarize ourselves with Powell River climbing at the Lakeside Crags where we did find a nice but dirty broken crack system (5.9).

My spoiled European sport climbing companions are unimpressed by Powell River’s dirty traditional-style front-country crags, so we head to try out “an aqua-dynamic belay” at The Dark Pools. We find excellent cliffs for jumping, a rope swing, and beautiful lush surroundings - this spot is a real jem!

But the best feature here is the free-water-soloing. We start on the 10 meter long 5.10 climb which traverses just 2-6 feet from the water. Nice!

Then we take a stab at the 200 foot long circuit which climbs at 5.11 starting right on the water and climbing up to 40’ above! Shut down!

Life is grand and spirits are high as we abandon plans for the expedition climb in the Eldred Valley. We are headed to the sunny crags at Comox on Vancouver Island. On the ferry from Powell River to Comox, an officer in uniform approaches us. “Are you the ones driving an ambulancish-type vehicle? It seems we have a bit of a situation…” We don’t know what to say. He asks us to please follow him to the bridge, and we do so nervously. We step past the authorized personnel only signs and onto the bridge where three uniformed officers greet us.

“Who wants to drive?” they ask.

I'm having a hard time keeping the ship straight (bearing 250), but when we spot orca whales off the port bow the first mate announces their presence to the other ferry passengers over the intercom. I’m shocked when I hear his words echoing across the ship, “we will see if we can get a bit closer.” Hard to port! I’m orca chasing in a 5,000 ton boat! We get within a few hundred meters but are careful to maintain distance from the animals. When we lose their path we do a full 360 degree turn just for fun.

Sick.

0th Hour

Submit. That’s the last thing on my list. I'm ready to Unplug.

It’s Friday afternoon and my second Sabbatical just started! Whoa. My first act is to unpin outlook from the task bar. I remove the card from my computer which allows me to access the corporate network and I seal it into an envelope marked ‘Emergencies Only’.

I’ve unplugged!

Some cold beers while we wait for a few more friends to join. Soon there are five of us ready to hit the road heading North on the Sea-to-Sky Highway to Lion’s Bay. It’s a short walk down the rail line and an easy scramble to the best cliff jumping in town. Most of us are changing jobs or finishing school or taking some form of extended break from work/responsibility – for many of us, this will be our last weekend together. We arrive at the cliffs and the tide is out – the jumps are even higher than normal. We hit’em with all guns blazing: dives, flips, rope swings, and Tom pulls out the new standing gainer from seven meters up. It’s the makings for a great 0th hour and a fabulous evening on the water with good friends.

One more jump – we head up to the 18 meter platform. I’m off first. Splash! I have my legs open the tiniest bit for the landing and I’m paying for it now. Tom and Kalle both jump clean. Dave is last – he’s a novice but a keener, and it’s his first time out at the cliffs. He goes for it and throws right into a rigid pencil. We watch and cringe as he slowly drifts forward while falling and lands about 10˚ off straight. His face smacks into the water hard and it’s obvious to all that it’s a bad jump. He’s under water for a few seconds too long and eventually surfaces face down unconscious. 

I’ll be light on details because I don’t know Dave well. We had two former lifeguards in attendance and they carried him in the cold water while others prepared to receive him on land. A terrifying scene here as we were very worried about paralysis. We dialed 911 but canceled the call when Dave regained consciousness in the water about two minutes later and 30 meters from the jump site. He climbed onto land himself. He was badly concussed and didn’t know where he was, or even the year – so we dialed for help once again. We worked with an amazing crew of volunteers from Lion’s Bay Fire Rescue and some professionals from the Coast Guard to eventually get him to hospital by boat. 

 

He was slow to regain his memory as we sat with him for just over an hour – but he stayed calm and handled it extremely well. Reports over the following days indicate he is 100% A-Okay again.

It’s a harsh reminder of human limits and a harsh day 0.

Man of Leisure

We are in one of Squamish's most popular climbing areas, but things feel strangely remote. Oddly tranquil. Jen and I are alone with our shoes still wet from a rain which drove away the usual crowd of climbers.  The distant Shannon Falls rumbles like our stomachs as the sun sets over Howe Sound. Beautiful dusk. The pebbled granite is dry to the touch. 

Three years climbing and I still get the same intense thrills. 

This climb is right at my level - a perfect challenge. It starts abruptly with a traverse off a shelf into immediate exposure. Then a wide step and sustained climbing up a dyke while balancing on mere crystals. When I reach the last bolt, it's a featureless wall until a hand-crack starts high above. When  reach the crack, I'm high over the bolt and sweating in the intense humidity. It is shallow and wildly flaring.  I try one, two, three pieces of protection - but nothings good. I'm dangling on bad hands with no feet and sweat streams our of me lubricating my grip. I'm terrified.

It's a dreadful feeling - the one when you realize that you are going to either fall, or that you have to go higher in order to protect yourself. Every meter you climb now means two more meters if you fall. I remember three years ago, we were clueless out there on a wall jamming bits of weirdly shaped medal into cracks. So many unknowns - every movement was hard back then. In those days, I would have just jumped - taken the fall here before things got out of control. But I'm stronger now, wiser. I can do it.

Be calm. Breath. And move. "Clip". The sound of safety. The carabiniere closes around a green camelot with all four lobes biting in a perfect constriction high up where the crack deepens. My fear evaporates instantly. My palms are suddenly dry. And I can't help but yell something joyful but inaudible down to Jen 45 meters below. My small scared adjustments are replaced with confident movement again. I crank through the last section. Sent it.

Jen

Today was what it is all about. I could not be more excited to let the keyboard fade away and have climbing become my world for more than just a weekend. 

Announcing Sabbatical the 2nd

I'm almost there. Two short weeks and I'll be starting another 3-month sabbatical. It has been almost three years since my last, so it's time to escape the busy trap again!

I have some plans - but mostly just anti-plans. I've ended my lease here in Vancouver. I'm moving into my van and heading to greener pastures. Because it's about time I checked if the grass really is any greener on the other side.


First step is to spend August climbing in Squamish and the Bugaboos. Pack the rack and jam the crack! Get out here and let's go climbing!

Dreams of Long Days

These days, I fill my time with work. The work day often starts in darkness and often ends in darkness. Occasionally there is skiing and hiking, climbing indoors, diving at the pool. Times are good - but in the heart of Winter in Vancouver one can often find oneself pining for the longer days of Summer.


On the first day of July last summer, we were embarking on a climbing epic. There are five Russians sleeping with me at in the Ambulance. Dima and Isabel are sleeping in the trunk of the Subaru parked next to us in the Steward Lake Trail Head in Leavenworth. Cell phones chime at 3am, and we scarf down a disorganized breakfast. All I can remember is spooning a full can of salmon into my mouth with thoughts of protein.

We have our eyes on a single-day summit of the Serpentine Arete on the Dragon-Tail Peak nested among the Enchantment Lakes.

We will climb as two parties of two, with Dima and I leading Ulga and Kosta. It is roughly 18 kms walking to the Dragon-Tail base, then a 3300 ft trad climb at 5.8, then a glacial decent to rejoin the 18 kms home. When the sun rises, the Enchantments are in view and we follow a moraine to an iced crossing and finally touch rock.

3000 feet of climbing to the summit where several mountain goats mock us with easy movements on the steep rock.

Time to replenish the water supply and descend via the glacier off the back side of the mountain. Here the scenery was truly spectacular!

We made it to base camp for just after 11pm. Make for about 21 hours of continuous forward motion. I was totally wasted. Today that's the kind of long day I'm dreaming of. 

Oops Cliff, Whistler

In whistler with two aunts, two cousins, and two friends.

Skiing in heaven, we find our rhythm in some powdery evergreen glades. 

Darting quickly between the trees, trying to keep up.

But when the ground falls away there is no time to stop.

Jump into the take off and remember to scream

Yard sale!

Red line indicates Kenn's approximate trajectory off the cliff (about 25').
George and Lee (above)  traversing safely down.

Some great memories on this trip though: hiking the Flutes with George to find some fresh powder, a nice cornice drop in Jersey Bowl, the left lines after Spanky's - too steep to ever stop!, scraping the rocks on Couloir Extreme before it opens up into perfect conditions, and a huge bail off a cornice above Die Hard. Then a late night river crossing and a stolen hot tub. 

Many thanks to Jane, Wendy, Jen1, George, Jen2, Lee, Tim and Anna! A great few days on the mountain!