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.