|
October 2001 Other Articles
Escape to Squamish, July 2001 - Dave Bone (and Tony Major)
This is the story of a trip to that Mecca of Canadian climbing,
Squamish, 40 miles North of Vancouver, planned in those bleak, dark
days of Foot and Mouth. So bleak that the maximum time out of the
country was required, so 2.5 weeks at the start of July were found.
OK so "everyone goes there", but with good reason...
So to keep the costs 'down' we were shoehorned into a Charter flight
from Manchester via Calgary where we had a hour's delay to refueling
while a lightning storm cleared the Airport. On arrival at Vancouver,
"those arriving from Britain and Europe, go that way" via the
pariah's exit. "Warning, disinfectant mats, no animal products,
sniffer dogs". Well those machines all our luggage passed through
looked rather like X-ray machines, but perhaps the hood on top hid a
caged dog... Oops - did we clean my climbing boots after that last
trip? "What's this dense mass at the bottom of your Sac, Sir?" It's
my climbing rope..". Turns round and "It's OK, it's some kind of
Bungee cord"! After some battling with the directions, we eventually
got to our Car hire pickup point, and were shortly after wending our
way through the streets of Vancouver, to head North into the dusk, on
highway 99 - the "Sea to Sky highway", or locally, "the cedar-sky".
We camped the whole trip, mostly at the Chief campsite, tucked right
under the rock, 3km outside the town of Squamish. We later found of a
free, no facilities site N of the town, but at $8 (£4) a night per
site (not per person) we didn't see the need. For that you got a walk
in, hard pad, pit toilets, and a water tap, plus the site doesn't
take caravans or RVs with most occupants being climbers or groups
being brought out for a taste of the outdoors. Squamish itself, has
everything one could need, a launderette, two supermarkets (with an
amazing range of choice - Tesco should take note), two outdoor gear
shops, mountain biking, windsurfing (Squamish is also one of the
world's wind surfing centres, and they're damm fast!), showers at the
Brennan Leisure park, Pub and hardware store with everything
flammable (Colemans, Gaz, etc), camping gear and hunting equipment
(beware mad axemen in the woods). We recommend "Climb on" for their
help and friendly approach.
OK, what climbing is there? Well first off, the grading seems to be
fair in the main (but watch for the slabs) and actually follows the
standard US-UK translation. ie 5.9 IS HVS, 5.10a is E1 5b etc.
There's a good range too from 5.7 up. It's 95% granite. You have the
Chief, a 600m high granite monolith with crags on all sides, with the
450m high Grand wall - you won't top out on this unless you can do E4
or A3. But in the apron area you have access to the slabs with a
series of ledges. There's anything from single 30m pitch to 12 pitch
routes here on the Chief and Squaw, plus some popular aid routes
(portaledges were seen). Then a number of smaller crags back towards
Vancouver less than 15mins away, including Murrin park which has a
number of atractive small crags tucked into a country park centred on
the "Browning lake" (swimming lake and flesh exposure) much used by
families at weekends. This gives quite a variety. There are trad
routes, clip up routes and Sports+ routes, where you'd better take
some gear (if you can find placements).
We opened our guide on the first day at the Smoke bluffs, a area of
quick drying crags on the edge of town. All single pitch stuff,
mostly bolted and popular with top-ropers which seems to be a disease
here. A quick warmup on a 5.9 crack then a look at the nearby
5.10a/5.10b pair of bolted slab routes. A desperent ascent on one on
cornflake edges and Tony wants to do the 5.10a - sorry Tony, that WAS
the 5.10a! Moving on, we had a look at "Pear Slab" 5.10a and
retreated from the crux - let's follow suit and top rope it then.
Crux doesn't seam so bad then but then found the leaders pyscological
crux - the steep 30ft of slab climbing to the belay off the ledge
where THE bolt is. By this time we were getting the idea - avoid
slabs if you don't want to be scared and drop your grade on them -
cracks are all right. It seems there is a tradition of placing these
bolts on the lead, so they often aren't where you want them. The
main slabs have things like 5.9s with one bolt (there is no natural
gear in glacially polished granite) in 50m! - we didn't do that one.
The cracks and walls are good though.
What about other activities? There's mountain biking, wind surfing,
and walking. There's the Chief summit trail, a brutal ascent used by
the locals for a morning/evening jog with the dog. Then there's the
Coastal range of 7000-8000ft mountains with the Garibaldi provincial
park. These offer some good hikes, hill walks and mountaineering.
They have glaciers and permanent snowfields, and in early July the
snowline was ~4500ft so many of the trails had large amounts of snow.
However, after a week of sun, this disappeared to 6000ft to reveal a
glorious array of alpine flowers so my high pt was 7200ft on the well
named Panorama Ridge. If you get bored with woodland walks don't go
here as the treeline is ~5500ft - all you can see are 200ft Douglas
firs! It doesn't take long to stop being impressed with big trees and
it takes a fair amount of effort to get a view.
What's the weather like? Well it's on the coast and so is supposed to
get periods of rain interpersed with long sunny periods. So we waited
for rain to have a rest day. Ho hum, apart from 1mm of rain over one
night, it didn't rain at all until 2 days before going home (and had
been dry for weeks beforehand)! It was bright to sunny the rest of
the time with temperatures generally in the low 20s - perfect. Just
had to rest eventually. When it did rain, we had a look at the
tourist attractions - the Britannia museum of mining and the West
coast railway world. So we had a morning at the Brittania copper mine
site complete with 300yard underground railway journey. Then back to
Squamish to look at the shops again.
What is there to do when it rains? Ah well, you can look at the gear
shops, look at the local attractions... for a morning, then well...
hmm, go back to sleep again. Yes folks, there's not a lot of
non-outdoor interests there - I think we covered about 50% of them in
a day. Whistler isn't very exciting,has poor gear shops and does lots
of designer 'sports' wear. Could be alright for skiing though -
indeed some glacier skiing and a few other high areas was still open.
The lower runs were used for another purpose in summer - mountain
bike 'trails' (or throw yourself down a hill suicide attempts).
We did quite a variety of routes on the Chief, aiming for all the 3.5
(!)star routes in our grade. There was "Sunblessed" 5.10b, an
immaculate 50m hand jam jam crack plus a 10b flared jam crack. "Rock
on" - a 4 pitch 3.5 star 10a. The guide book says "slow to dry" -
"top pitch crux, hard when wet, and it often is - that's life".
Surely we could handle a few wet holds - but pulling over the
guardian overhand above the belay we found the corner walls steaming
with water - 'wet' wasn't adequate! Great excitement ensued and we
were glad to emerge into the sun at the top, 40m later. It's kinda
hard to climb on well lubricated fingerlocks when the slip rate
exceeds one's pulling rate. But do it anyway. "The flake", 5.10b
laybacking and a tricky throw yourself into a grove and breath out to
wedge in move. Others included "Exasperator" 5.10c - an incredible
50m finger jamming exercise where in parts one was fully suspended
from finger locks. The crux was a leaning, very thin fingers crack
with smears for the feet - some airtime here. Superb.
We had a day at the "Malamute", just over the road from the campsite,
at the edge of the water with a good breeze and view of the
Windsurfing and logging operations (everywhere at low tide are the
bleached bones of logs jammed in the mud, as well as great rafts of
logs being Tugged around). Recommend the 40m crackline of "High
Mountain Woody", 5.9/HVS 5b as well as "Paul's crack" 5.10a/E1 5b,
and down to the lower tier for the overhanging, arm grazing, V-slot
of "Canadian Compromise" 5.10a/E1 5b ("Did you enjoy that - ask me
later") and others. Squamish is on the main railway line and every
day, regular as clockwork, enormous freight trains squeal their way
along the valley with one local stopping passenger service. The
valley echoes to the blasts of their horns as they negotiate the many
level crossings. The line follows the foot of the crag (you climb
from the ballast in places) and the guide warns of keeping gear off
the line and moving on quickly - when a train passes, all climbing
stops as the "earth moves" and what a racket! From 15ft, these
engines are damm big! Thank God they just ding the bell going past
and not let rip with the horn! And what a surprise, 80% of the
freight is wood products (in both directions!).
And now for another guidebook (you can pick this up in the
supermarket!) and a bit of a change - the Chek 'sports' crags,
covering the valley North of Squamish thru Whistler and on to
Pemberton. We moved campsite for this to the Calcheck campsite - a
really good site with a spring issuing from a large tree as it seems,
and quiet apart from weekends when Vancouverans spend their weekends
tending campfires. It had a resident warden, "Wayne" that we expect
Duncan would get on well with. There's quite a bit to look at, with
routes from 15 to 40m, all 'roadside' and a few trad routes. We
looked with interest at the Suicide Bluffs description with the
enticing prospect of a tyrolean across the river (with large
waterfall downstream) to get to it. However, after inspection we can
report that the insitu cable is no longer there, the river's 60 ft
wide and has a melt-water flow so look for excitement elsewhere,
perhaps at the other tyrolean to the 'Basalt' crag. After doing most
of the 5.10as and bs in the book over 4 days we returned to Squamish
(a hour down the road).
The days got rather hot (30C plus) for a while and we considered
other places inland. However, these (Skaha)looked even hotter, drier
(the wet weather option) and at the best road speed of 50mph were 6
hours away. Perusal of the other inland crags book revealed such
nicieties as the prevalence of ticks bearing Lyme's disease and a
rather nasty disease from mouse droppings with the story of a worker
sweeping out an old factory, dying 24 hours later. So we stayed put!
Skaha looks good if you have a lot of time to spare and rain sets in
on the coast. We could still find routes to do and did them (apart
from the 12 pitch Angel's Crest 5.10b we'd been saving).
And now for the hazards. There are rumours of bears in the hills but
not at Squamish. Inland there would be snakes. There doesn't seem to
be a problem with rucksack chewing vermin. It's too far south for
Blackfly but it is the insects you have to watch for. The mosquitos
are a force to reckon with, they range from big to enormous with
hypodermics that would make an elephant run! They were a real problem
in the evenings to start with but eased off (leaving the scars),
either because they died off, we became less attractive, we found a
safer site or the local insect repellant sprayed everywhere as the
first evening task, did seem to work. They did seem to go for
visitors! The evenings entertainment involved tracking the whine down
in the car and clapping hands for the kill with a cheer (or groan if
the flattened corpse was embedded in a big red splat).
Of course we flew home to a typical British welcome and have since
lost the toughened finger-tips. But I would highly recommend a visit
to anyone - a great trip. If you want some route recommendations,
I've got the guides...
Fear and Loathing in Zion - Duncan Lee
Saturday January 22nd. 2.30am. Whaley Bridge.
"OK, as long as you lead the aid pitches."
With these slurred words by Steve a deal was struck. Zion here we
come.
Friday April 28th. 6.30am. Zion National Park, Utah.
"Duncan, get up you lazy sod!"
The customary polite Bowker alarm bellow roused me from my slumbers
to another clear-skied desert day. It was going to be hot. A hasty
breakfast fortified us for the arduous approach up Zion Canyon past
numerous spectacular rock formations, grazing Mule deer and foraging
Wild Turkeys. Finally after a whole ten minutes we got out of the car
a vast two hundred yards from the base of the Cerberus Gendarme; a
smooth 1,200 feet high barrel shaped buttress of Navajo Sandstone
capped by a huge diving board like roof on the left. Fortunately our
chosen climb, Touchstone Wall, followed a crack system up the right
side of the formation but unfortunately it also had a team of three
at its base and a portaledge suspended several hundred feet above.
With our plan of a fast light in a day ascent now in tatters we beat
a retreat to the campground for a second breakfast and a rethink.
Saturday April 29th. 5.30 am.
"Duncan, get up you lazy sod!"
6.20am.
"I don’t believe it there’s a *#%king portaledge at the top of pitch one."
Steve eloquent as ever had summed up the situation nicely but I could
not resist directing a few expletives of my own at the ledges
sleeping occupants. Once we had calmed down we decided to go for it
anyway hoping that the element of surprise might win the day. After
quickly and quietly racking up I set off aiding up a line of drilled
angles that connected the thin C1 (clean aid, no hammer required)
crack to the ground. The first taste of clean aiding went well with
bombproof nut slots leading rapidly up to the purple fabric overhang
complete with its slumbering burden. Loudly shouting “Morning” soon
woke them up however. A bout of swearing ensued overhead before a
head appeared over the edge of the ledge to return the compliments of
the day and to apologise for being in the way. Finally after a five
minute delay the ledge was swung to one side to reveal two climbers
dwarfed by an enormous pile of kit. Everything but the kitchen sink.
Once I had joined them on the 5-bolt belay Steve began to jumar as
the bleary eyed team breakfasted and thankfully approved an
overtaking manoeuvre.
The crux of pitch two (my lead again) was clambering over the heaps
of gear and humans to get to the rock up which a C2 crack led to an
overhang. The initial couple of placements were a bit worrying
(especially for those below) but the slots quickly improved so I was
soon under the roof eying up a frayed piece of string through the eye
of a rurp. Gulp! To add insult to injury a sling dangled
tantalisingly out of reach from the lip but mercifully a closer
inspection of the rock revealed a good wire placement that negated
using the dreaded rurp. Above the airy roof the crack soared up the
smooth face swallowing any number of wires, #3 to 8, that you could
throw at it. Another agonising hanging belay in ets heralded the end
of the two full rope lengths of aid. Time to put on the rock shoes
and hand the sharp end and the monster rack over to Steve.
Above the stance the angle eased back to the vertical with occasional
desert varnished flakes and plates clinging to the wall on either
side of the immaculate finger crack that leads ever upwards. Much to
Steve’s relief the fissure continued to eat gear and gradually
widened to thin hands as he progressed steadily up the technical crux
(5.11-) of the route to yet another hanging stance. Thankfully, the
next pitch of thin hand jamming was short and quickly led to the
first ledge on the face and a spot of relief for the feet. We
revelled in the comfort whilst finishing off one of our two water
bottles before Steve set forth on the climbs final 5.10 pitch. A long
strenuous sustained thin hand crack that snaked its way through two
bulges on route to a large comfortable stance and an easing in the
angle of the buttress. The unrelenting nature and length (160ft) of
this pitch forced us both to relapse into aiding on the trickier
moves thus slowing our progress. No disaster in itself but that was
soon to follow. Whilst negotiating one of the bulges the remaining
full water bottle became detached from my harness. As I felt it go I
screamed a warning as the bottle whistled down the face towards the
team below. Luckily it glanced off a sloping shelf and arced out
spectacularly over their heads spinning wildly as it plunged straight
towards the hire car in the canyon below. Thankfully it impacted into
the bushes a mere ten yards from its target. You had to laugh! There
was no point in wasting any moisture by crying.
Once Steve had finished berating me we briefly considered abseiling
off but the buttress was now in the shade of mid afternoon and we
only had five pitches of 5.8 and 5.9+ remaining. We decided to press
on upwards and onwards with the added bonus of inwards into the
depths of an offwidth, which provided the entertainment on the next
pitch. Disgusting strenuous thrutching, more akin to caving than
climbing, facilitated progress in the right direction. My reward for
the struggle was a spacious ledge upon which to belay below an
appealing corner system up which Steve’s pitch led. He quickly
ascended this enjoyable but sandy rope length that again led to a
comfortable belay below a hideous looking fist crack. Large cam
territory once more.
Initially the crack angled leftwards under a bulge where a ramp
allowed progress to be made by a combination of fist jamming and back
and footing. The fissure then took a ninety-degree turn to the right
that necessitated turning completely round to layback through the
bulge on fist jams to gain an easier corner crack. This provided a
brief rest place before battle was commenced with the squeeze chimney
above. Once more frantic wriggling won the day. Sitting on the huge
belay ledge anchored to an enormous pine a feeling of smugness
descended on me as I contemplated Steve’s unenviable task. Following
that lot with a rucksack. My self-satisfaction even caused me to
giggle.
A spot of jiggery pokery and a large quantity of swearing eventually
saw Steve at the stance. The route then followed a spectacular
traverse leftwards, protected by drilled angles, to another huge
platform from which a short scary 5.6 pitch on poor rock ended all
difficulties. By this time it was early evening, with only an hour or
so of daylight left, so we quickly took a couple of photographs and
scrambled over the summit of the formation to the descent gully.
The gully cuts back a long way from the rim of the canyon and
descends in a series of steps separated by scrambling. With several
short abseils already completed everything was going well. We were
approximately half way down, the pub was calling and the light was
holding. Just! Then disaster number two of the day; the dreaded
jammed rope scenario. Steve’s hasty efforts to reascend the pitch
were soon thwarted by complete darkness. At this stage I suffered a
complete sense of humour failure for a few minutes. The fact that I
had run out of cigarettes was a pure coincidence.
Once I’d stopped ranting and raving and accepted our fate we settled
down for the night on the sizable sandy shelf that we were stranded
on; things could have been worse. We even managed to collect a
substantial pile of firewood which we “ignited with a sulphur
preparation” and the topo. After attempting to force cookies down our
parched throats we slumped by the fire for nine hours of
uncomfortable dozing; constantly changing position to keep warm on a
chill desert night.
At first light it took a valiant effort from Steve to drag himself
away from the warmth of the fire to complete his re-ascent of the
last abseil to free the rope. With this task undertaken we quickly
finished the remaining abseils to our rucksacks for much needed
refreshment. A mere 26 hours after starting the climb and 18 hours
since I had thrown the remaining water off the wall. As we gulped
eagerly from our water bottles there was suddenly lovely refreshing,
revitalising water everywhere. It was even falling from above out of
a cloudless sky. Suddenly reality dawned on my tired mind.
"Is some bastard up there having a piss?!"
"Hey sorry dude" came the response from above.
October Newsletter Index.
Copyright © 2001 Karabiner Mountaineering Club
|
