Climbing at Seneca

Megan and I climbed with John and Lily this weekend. I haven't climbed with John and Lily since last summer at Great Falls, it was good to see them again.

However, climbing wasn't great. Megan lost her digital camera on Thais (5.5), the guy before us cut himself and left lots of blood everywhere, we saw a huge block fell off Green Wall and barely missed a climber on Pleasant Overhang, and my elbow started hurting again. So we decided not to climb on Sunday and came back early.


Lily following on Ye Gods and Little Fishes (5.8)

Climbing the chimney pitch of Thais (5.5)

Megan cooling off in the swimming hole

Climbing adventures in BC - day 9 of 10, don't always believe the guidebook

Today was our last day in British Columbia, we wanted to make the best of it. However, most of the rock around Squamish was still wet, the Chief was actually dripping. There were still many areas around Squamish we haven't checked out, but to find an area with great views, that dries fast, AND with a short approach... well, Upper Malamute fits the bill perfectly. Besides, there was still High Mountain Woody, the supposed classic must-do 5-star 5.8+ that we didn't get a chance to climb last time. So Upper Malamute it was.

We found the short cut this time, but I was still huffing and puffing by the time we got to the cliffs. Two buff guys (from Vancouver?) were toproping on two short 5.9 friction slabs (Curly and Larry) when we arrived, then one of the guys started leading Curly (or was it Larry?) after the toprope practice, all the while commenting how he didn't like slabs. Believe it or not dude, I totally understand where you were coming from. Megan, on the other hand, didn't understand at all, and roped up to onsight lead both 5.9s with ease. I think the guys felt a bit emasculated and left pretty quickly. Good, with no one to watch my pitiful performance following both 5.9s, I felt much at ease to whine and complain loudly to no one in particular.

Actually, after toproping for a while, I was discovering some technique to climbing friction slabs. So except one instance when I lost my balance and felt backwards (grabbing the rope with my excellent reflexes), I was feeling pretty good on the slabs.

After a short lunch break, we moved over to High Mountain Woody. This was the longest climb in Upper Malamute, you need a full 60m rope to climb it. It supposedly starts with a cruxy 5.9ish finger crack, then eases out a bit to 5.8 fist crack. The guidebook really raved about it. 5.8 was about the hardest I've ever led on trad, even though the grades at Squamish was a little softer than the east coast, I was still feeling a bit intimidated. I racked up, tied my double ropes together with an overhand knot, and rappelled down first to check out the route. It was looking ok, the crack didn't look too hard, and the rock was dry... I felt better, so I kept rappelling down. But about 20 feet from the ground, the fist crack turned into a slanting finger crack. It looked hard, but more importantly, it was seeping water. Hmmmm. After quite a bit of deliberation, I decided that I was going to climb this route, but I will bypass the wet and hard finger crack start on toprope.

I radioed my intentions up to Megan, and asked her to re-tie the double ropes with a double-fisherman's knot. After a bit of confusion, she understood what I had in mind, and did what I asked. Once she rappelled down, I tied into one end of the double rope, and she put me on belay. Of course I realized that with two 8.9mm double ropes tied together, the rope would stretch so much that if I did fall in the first 20 feet or so I would still fall back to the ground. So really, I shouldn't fall. But if I did, hopefully the rope stretch would prevent an injury.

I pulled the cruxy start, finding the moves a bit hard and awkward, I was glad that I didn't try to lead it. About 20 feet up and slightly to the right of the route, there was a very small stance, and that was where I stopped and built an anchor. I belayed Megan up to my stance, then we untied this, re-tied that, pulled this... and eventually got the double ropes down from the top anchor and tied into Megan and me properly. Ok, finally time to start leading... I started on the rest of the route, and quickly found the moves were as easy as I thought. The crack was bigger than fist at some parts, almost off-width-ish, requiring some really groveling to get up. It would take me forever to figure out a move, pull it with much awkwardness, find a stance, take a rest while placing some gear, then the cycle starts again. It took me a looooong time to lead this route. Even though there were stances for me to rest and place gear, I was not enjoying this route at all. Finally it eased off a bit near the top, but I still didn't find the route enjoyable. I got to the anchor, set up the belay, then brought Megan up. She had a much easier time than I did with the moves, but she too did not find the climb enjoyable. We thought this route was the most over-hyped route we climbed. The 4-star Stephanie's Tear layback was a much better climb.

Megan getting a no hands (almost no feet) rest on High Mountain Woody (5.8+)... I swear the route was much harder than it looks!

Checking my watch, wow, it was already 4 o'clock. I did take forever leading that. After all that groveling, I didn't feel like climbing anything else, and since we haven't yet made it to the top of the Chief, we decided to hike to the top.

We started late in the afternoon, but with the grueling pace Megan was setting (even after I handed her the backpack to carry), we made it to the top in an hour or so, passing many hikers along the way. Megan actually talked about climbing at Raven's Castle, which was right below the First Peak.

Megan, "There are bolted slabs. We just need to take our harnesses and some quickdraws, it will be a light pack."
Me, "Yes, quickdraws. And A ROPE!"
Megan, "Oh yeah, we will need that too..."

So I shot down the idea of climbing at Raven's Castle, because of the supposed "45-minute approach" (right... if you were running up the mountain with your packs on!) and the heavy gear we have to haul with us. In hindsight, Raven's Castle was definitely worth hiking in with all that gear, we should have climbed there instead of Upper Malamute. The view on the First Peak to Howe Sound and the town of Squamish below us was just incredible. Too late to change our minds now, Megan and I pretended to be tourists, taking many photos at the summit, eating snacks, and corrupting a chipmunk with Nutella.

View from the First Peak of the Chief

We made it back in time to drive to town before the grocery store closed, cooked our last dinner in BC at the pinic area (where Megan met two other Australians who were out here on a long climbing trip), got most of our gear organized, then we crashed in the tent.

Corrupting wildlife, one chipmunk at a time

Climbing adventures in BC - day 8 of 10, back to Squamish

Today we woke up to the sound of rain. Yes, it was drizzling even in the desert of British Columbia. Another fine day for resting, I guess. We wanted to go back to Squamish, to the charming little logging town, even if it was still wet out there, the scenery more than make up for the bad weather. Leaving Todd's RV park, we decided to take the long scenic way back to Squamish, which would make a complete loop with the way we came to Penticton.

Megan in front of a snow covered mountain

The scenic way was definitely worth it, there were many snow covered peaks, glacier feed lakes, roadside creeks, big mountains. We made a quick stop in Whistler, but it was decidedly touristy and yuppish, so we quickly left. Back to the campground at the Chief.

Ahhhh, Squamish

Climbing adventures in BC - day 7 of 10, sport climbing at Skaha

Penticton is a much bigger city than Squamish, a tourist city. As such, we didn't like the feel of the city at all, so even after just staying here one night, we decided that we were going to pack up everything in the morning and leave Penticton after climbing at Skaha. The weather was hot, but at least the humidity was low, so climbing without melting was still possible for me. We got a late start in the morning, found a cliff at Skaha that was somewhat in the shade, and racked up to lead amid spray lords and gym bunnies. At least the gym bunnies knew they were gym bunnies and therefore eager to ask questions. The spray lords were just annoying.

We were in an area called Lower Red Tail, which has the highest concentration of easy sport climbs with the shortest approach. The routes here were mostly slabby to vertical, but with small crimpy holds, which were not great for Megan's fingers. The rock was hard and pretty smooth, reminded me a little of the rock at Great Falls. The rating felt really weird - like two 5.7s right next to each other weren't the same difficulty, and a 5.6 felt harder than a 5.7 right next to it. I guess it isn't a place I'd go back to BC specifically to visit.

We climbed a bunch of easy routes, but they all sort of blended together with one another. Mother Superior (5.7), Guilt Trip (5.7 - weird start), Second Balcony Jump (5.6), Black Friday (5.6), Freudian Slip (5.7), Sport Climbing is Neither (5.8), and Preface (5.9). I whined quite a bit trying to pull the crux on Preface, but somehow just didn't want to commit to the move pulling on two crimpers with no feet. I finally did it after standing there forever, but if I had so much trouble on a 5.9, I probably didn't want to get on anything harder. That was the end of climbing at Skaha for me.

Megan figuring out the crux on Preface (5.9)

Of course then there was the adventure of driving down a dirt road trying to find a campground that only existed on the map, back track for 15 minutes only to find the other campground was full, debating whether to go back to the dirt road and camp next to the car, and finally finding an mostly full RV park with a free tent site at 10 o'clock at night, and paying out of my nose for a little patch of grass in between big RVs. Next time, we locate a place to spend the night before going spending a day climbing. The trouble and stress at the end of the day was just not worth the sense of adventure.

Lake Skaha

Climbing adventures in BC - day 6 of 10, driving to Skaha

After a wet and cold day having mini-epics, Megan and I decided we should go check out Skaha some 7 or 8 hours east of Squamish. After three days of climbing, we needed a rest day anyway. Most of the climbers at Squamish seemed to have the same idea, the camp ground was noticeably more empty today. So today's adventure consisted mostly having breakfast at Sunflower Cafe and long distance driving. It was still drizzly when we left Squamish, the Hope-Princeton Highway was a very scenic highway, especially in misty weather.

View from the Hope-Princeton Highway

But once we crossed the mountains into the rain shadow, it was dry and sunny weather. The almost desert-like view was much different from the wet evergreens at Squamish. We stopped at roadside farmer's market for fresh blueberries and cherries, and pulled into the Waterworld RV Park at Penticton around 6 o'clock in the evening. Thus ended an adventure filled day, moose sighting: zero.

Penticton the tourist town

Climbing adventures in BC - day 5 of 10, multipitch epicing

During dinner in the previous night, Megan and I had discussed our option for today, a) go check out another area with single-pitch routes, or b) if Megan is feeling 100%, go tackle an easy multipitch route, which is my favorite type of climbing. After climbing at Shannon Falls, Megan felt that she was back at 100%, so multipitching it is!

Typical on a day of climbing an easy, classic multipitch route, we woke up very early, drove out of the campground shortly after the gate opened at 7 am, and was the second vehicle at the Apron's parking lot. There were two multipitch routes I wanted to do, Banana Peel (5.7, 8 pitches) and Diedre (5.8, 6 pitches). Normally I'd lean toward the easier of the two, but from looking at the guidebook, Banana Peel wonders a bit on the slab, while Diedre goes pretty much straight up with bolted belays. Since the weather is a big unknown, and Megan just recovered from being sick, we decided to do Diedre in favor of the easy retreat.

We racked up in the parking lot (at which point other cars began to show up as well), and started the approach. Soon we came to a point where the trail went left, and a scramble up a slab went up and right. Megan thought we should take the slab, I thought the slab cut back right too early. While I was trying to match guidebook description with what I see in front of me, a woman (Michelle?) wearing a harness and carrying a rope caught up to us from behind. I asked, "do you know which way is to Diedre?" "Yeah, I'm going to the same area, follow me, I'll take you there." Thanking her, we quickly followed her up the slab (Megan was right). After some pretty steep but easy scrambling, we arrived at a comfy ledge where Diedre starts. Michelle's partner was already there waiting for her, they racked up and started a runout slab to our right. I was a bit out of breathe from the approach, and hungry (haven't really eaten breakfast at this point), so I took a breather and had a cliff bar.

Just as I was getting ready to start on the first pitch, another team of two female climbers show up. We found out later that they were from Oregon. "Gotta move fast so I don't cause a traffic jam!" I thought as I set off on the slab. The first pitch started with about 30 feet of 5.4 friction slab with no protection at all, until you get to a birch tree on a small ledge. The climbing was easy, low angle enough that even though I'm not good on friction slabs, I still thought I could lead it. The moves didn't get any hard the higher I climbed, but it definitely got headier. A couple of feet from the birch tree now, I looked down and thought, "man, it's a loooooong way to fall!" I got a little scared, shaky, and breathing heavily. "I knew you were scared cuz I could hear you doing your weird breathing thhing", Megan later told me. But anyway, I had my fear under control long enough to grab the flake right below the birch tree, and pulled myself up to the ledge. "Friction climb is my nemesis!" I yelled down to Megan while I took out a double-length sling to tie around the tree.

Mommy, I'm scared!

Now the scary part is over, I was looking at section of 5.7 to the anchor. Choosing the easiest path possible, I made my way slowly toward the anchor. After spending 10 minutes trying to figure out a move that wasn't even very hard, I finally made it to the anchors.

I brought Megan up, and she decided to lead the 2nd pitch, which started with a unprotected 5.6 traverse on a slab. That was fine by me! By now the Oregon team behind us have started on the first pitch, and the woman leading it was making much faster progress than I was. The 2nd pitch was pretty short, so Megan was soon anchored in and brought me over the traverse. I figure since the other leader seemed to move faster than I was, we should let them pass us. That way when I'm shaking and crying on the 5.8 sections, at least I won't have an audience below.

So I yelled over to the leader of the Oregon that they may pass us, then Megan and I rested on the comfortable 2nd belay station and waited for the second of Oregon team finish climbing the first pitch. The sky was looking very cloudy today, and I occasionally hear rumbling in the distance. But it has been like this since we got here, the day before was the same weather, and we still climbed two very good routes.

The second of Oregon team got to the belay station, talked with her leader, and they decided to decline our offer to let them pass. Ok... well... it was a little unexpected, but I guess I will be in the front. Come to think of it, every time I've offered to let others pass me (three times so far), they have all decided not to. Anyway, so I racked up for the 3rd pitch, which was rated 5.8. The route was pretty similar to Great Arch (5.5) at Stone Mountain, NC. Learning from the Great Arch, instead of trying a strenuous layback on the corner crack the whole time (which was what I did on the Great Arch), I tried to smear more and just use the crack for balance and place gear. I found it not too difficult at all, and the crack ate up pro really well. Pretty soon I was at the 3rd belay station, and set up to bring Megan up. Megan climbed quickly (my first two passive pieces popped out which helped), except when she had to remove a nut that was tricky to clean. I didn't remember placing anything too hard to remove, but somehow this nut just didn't want to come out. With now two teams behind us, I almost told Megan to leave it, but she eventually got it out, and quickly came up to the anchor.

Megan cleaning the 3rd pitch, the team from Oregon waiting below

I racked up again to lead the 4th pitch, again rated 5.8. But it didn't feel very difficult, and I was again at the anchor without much trouble. Megan came up quickly, this time we didn't even have gear getting stuck.

Running it out on the 4th pitch

The next pitch was 5.7, so Megan decided to take the lead, which she did quickly and effortlessly. I started seconding, and decided to use only friction slab technique so I can get better at it. I was doing pretty well, only touching the crack to remove gear... until it started drizzling. But wait, "it's ok, it's only a drizzle, just like yesterday, right? It will stop soon and dry up quickly." Or so I thought. I got to the top of fifth pitch, the next pitch looked short, and the guidebook said it started out with easy 5.6 climbing to a tricky 5.8 exit. Well I've done the two 5.8 pitches, didn't find them very challenging, and we were just a short pitch away from the top. So I decided I should climb fast, get to the top before it got too wet. That was the worst decision I've ever made since I started climbing.

It was still just a small drizzle right now, but the rock was getting wet. What more was that the corner crack we've been following have sealed to a seam by now. I climbed up 10 feet, and was finally able to get a green alien in a pin scar. The 5.6 friction moves suddenly felt really hard when the rock was wet, and even though I was too far from the anchor, it felt as if it was impossible to reverse my moves back to the anchor. I still thought the rain would stop soon, and the rock would dry out, so I made another couple of shaky moves upward, and found another pin scar, which would only take another green alien. But I don't have another green alien! Looking up, I saw the route went on like this, with not much pro at all. I start to felt that I got myself in a jam. The rain was coming down harder now, I stood in one spot for a long time, couldn't back down, yet couldn't trust the friction moves to go up. There was another pin scar just barely out of my reach, if I could get to it, place another piece, then I maybe able to climb up to the low angle ramp that I see above the corner crack. But with only one green alien between me and the anchor, I was too scared to stretch too far and make the move to the next pin scar. I stood there for a while, cursing myself, and finally I kneeled down on one smear, reached my left hand below me, removed the green alien below, and replaced it in the pin scar at my chest level. Now with a slightly shorter fall if I were to peel, I felt slightly more confident in pulling the move. Balancing on a wet smear, pawing down with one hand, and maybe even touched the green alien's cable loop slightly, I was able to stretch and get my fingers into the next pin scar. I moved up to it, and promptly placed a yellow alien in it. Now having two pieces between me and the anchor, and with corner turning to the left and ease off in the angle, I made some increasingly easy moves, and got to a ramp before the crux exit. The ramp was big and low angle, there was even much dirt and pine needles collected in the corner. But the crack did not reappear, and there was no place for pro for 20 feet or so, until you get to the crux. About 5 feet below the crux was a slight bulge in the slab, with some dykes running through it. Normally this would be an easy move to pull over, but now the rock was totally wet, and the smooth crystal in the dyke seemed extra slippery. "F*CK!" I was really cursing myself now. I was 15 feet above my last pro, and looking at a pretty hard, unprotected move before my next gear placement, and I was just too scared. I was scared that if slip and fall, I may stop on the low angle ramp, or I may slide all the way back to the anchor. It would a low force fall on low angle slab, not going to be dangerous, but it would probably take a layer of skin of my hands. And after making these 5.6 friction moves to get up here, I didn't think I could have reversed them. So I was effectively stuck there, at least by my own fear, not by difficulty of the climb. I radioed down to Megan, "there is a unprotected section that's wet, I think I'm just going to hang out here for a while." Then I looked at the move above me, tried to move up... nope... too slippery, move back down. Looking down, rope disappearing around the low angle corner 10 feet below me, with the yellow alien probably another 5 feet below that. Don't really want to downclimb that either. There was another team to my right, climbing the last 5.6 pitch of some 5.9 route. Their leader started the last pitch after I did, but he moved quickly and confidently, while commenting to his second, "man, sure is wet up here!" Soon he would be at the top of their route, and I was still stuck half way up my pitch, drowning myself in my own curses. I saw an easy way out. I didn't want to take it, I really want to get over my own fears and finish this lead. Yet if I took the easy way out, then I don't have to worry about anything. My time was running out, I had to make a decision before these guys get to the top and walk away. Finally, I admitted defeat and reluctantly I yellled over to their second, "Hello, could you do me a big favor? Would you lower me a rope when you get to the top?" "Sure! We'll do that once I get to the top. I don't blame ya, it's getting really wet."

I felt totally relieved, yet very deflated at the same time. Could I have finished the last pitch? Maybe, but I really shouldn't have started it in the first place. I really wanted to get to the top, instead of bailing on the last pitch, and made a bad judgement call. I should learn from this experience.

The other team (from Victoria, Vancouver Island) got to the top, set up a quick anchor using the trees, and lowered me a rope with a figure 8 knot on a bight. I clipped into the knot with two locking biners, and proceeded to toprope the last half of the last pitch. Even on a toprope, pulling over the slight bulge on the slab felt tricky. The crystals were indeed very slippery. The crux exit was tricky as well, my feet slipped a few times due to wet shoes, I think I may have weighed the rope (or at least, the guys from Victoria kept me on a very tight belay), jammed and chimneyed up the final exit. Thanking the guys from the other team, I put Megan on belay on one of our double ropes (we worked it out so she untied from one of the doubles and left it for the team from Oregon to TR on). Megan made it up to the anchor shortly, and I belayed the leader of the Oregon team on our other double rope. She had a little bit of trouble pulling the crux exit, to save time she placed a green alien to pull on in aiding her past the exit. She then belayed her second up on their single rope (I wasn't sure if they had another rope to retreat with).

When everyone safely on the Broadway Ledge, we coiled ropes and started the scramble down. By now it was really pouring, and my thought of the rain would stop was long gone. An easy scramble down along a big crack on a sunny day, made me stop and asked to be put on belay. Megan was more confident in making down so she sent me down first. I tied in to one of the doubles, and placed a few pieces of gear in the crack, which was pretty much a little stream running with water. I belayed Megan down, and we followed the normal trail downwards. We stopped to check if the Oregon team would catch up with us, but they apparently decided to rappel down the 3rd class variation from the "waterfall", so we never saw them again.

The team from Oregon setting up to rappel the downclimb, notice the waterfall in the crack

We followed the trail through the woods, and down into the boulder fields below the Apron, where we quickly lost the trail. At least the road was close by so we knew which direction to go. After some heavy bushwhacking, we got back on the road, and walked back to our rental car.

The Apron right after we got down to the road

Compare to the Apron when we started in the morning

The rest of the day was spent eating lunch at Corner Cafe, checking the weather in Skaha, eating dinner at a sushi restaurant, and soaking in hot tubs at the rec center.

Shannon Falls, the day before and the day after our epic on Diedre

Climbing adventures in BC - day 4 of 10, crack climbing on slab, sweeeet

Megan is feeling even better today, yet still not 100% to go on any multi-pitch routes. Not a problem, we could check out another area that is scenic and has a classic must-do climb, Klahanie Crack (5.7) at Shannon Falls. A late start in the morning, breakfast at Sunflower Bakery, trying to figure out whether to park at Shannon Falls or the Chief campground (so Megan doesn't have to walk too much)... when we eventually took the long approach from the Chief campground to Shannon Falls, it was about noon. Just as we got to Local Boys Slab it started drizzling. It wasn't a big rain, just enough to wet the rock slightly. Oh well. We decided to wait around for a bit and see if the rock will dry out. Another team got there a little later, and they decided to wait as well. I saw them last night while cooking dinner at the campground, so I chatted with them a little bit. Turned out they were from England, traveled around Canada for a while to climb, and getting ready to go back to England soon.

Shannon Falls

The drizzle soon stopped, just like the first day we were in Squamish, and surprisingly the rock dried up quickly. I figured this must be the way the weather was here, this little assumption would cause me an epic later, but right now, the two British climbers racked up to climb Cardhu Crack (5.8) on the right side of the Local Boys Slab, so I racked up to climb Klahanie Crack (5.7), this beautiful looking hand crack that goes right up a slab. The guidebook said this is a must-do, and I agree. There were great hand jams one right after another on Klahanie Crack, it was excellent. The moves were all continuous and sustained at the same difficulty level. The only problem was that I was wearing my Evlov Kaos, which was pretty painful for toe jams. It was pretty painful to stop, stand on a toe jam, and place gear. When I finally got to the anchors, I was hurting pretty bad. But I still liked the route (just remember to bring suitable shoes next time when climbing cracks). Megan cleaned the gear, and enjoyed the route as well. It wasn't 35m long like the guidebook said though, we were climbing on 70m double ropes, and I was able to set up the rappel by doubling one of the ropes, and there were still plenty of rope left when I got back on the ground.

Beautiful jamming on Klahanie Crack (5.7)

The British team were done climbing Cardhu Crack as well, but they elected to just call it a day. I racked up and led Cardhu Crack. The first part was very easy, with multiple cracks and big no hand stances. The crack was hand sized, since I had great stance, I decided to made a stacked-placement with two medium nuts, which would not fit anywhere on the route on their own. Save the bigger gear for the harder part, eh? The only thing I didn't do was to clip the second nut to the first one somehow so it won't fall down when removed, but I was trying to conserve gear for the route above.

Stacked nuts, old school

The multiple cracks thined out into one hand crack, pulling over a small bulge (which was the crux), then hand and fist jams on a slab to the anchor. The moves were more varied than Klahanie Crack, my feet weren't hurting as bad since there were stances around, and there was a cruxy feeling section. I think I enjoyed leading Cardhu Crack even more than Klahanie Crack. Megan seconded and took a photo of my stacked nuts (I asked her to), then we rapped and called it a day. The only other route in the area I could lead was another 5.8, which share half of the route with Cardhu Crack. Two great routes in a day was good enough. We went back to camp and cooked vegie-burger for dinner.

Megan jamming on Cardhu Crack (5.8)

Climbing adventures in BC - day 3 of 10, I hate friction climbing

After much rest, Megan seemed to feel better. Not 100% yet, but good enough that she wanted to climb something. And the weather also seemed to be better, at least it wasn't drizzling anymore, and sometimes you can see blue skies. So after breakfast in Squamish (Sunflower Bakery was unfortunately closed on Sundays, we settled for the cafe down the street), we decided to check out Upper Malamute - an area with great scenery and good concentrating of routes, according to the guidebook. There were two approaches: a short one and a long one. We somehow couldn't find the short approach even though it was right under our nose, and took the long approach. The view on the Upper Malamute was great, it sits right above Howe Sound, with unobstructed view to the water.

View from Upper Malamute

Megan instantly set her eyes on a 5.10a slab called Pacing the Cage.

Megan: "Oh that looks like fun. Can we climb this first?"

Me: *whines* "I'm not good at friction climbing. Can't we toprope something easier first? I can't lead that."

Megan: "Fine, I'll lead it then."

Me: "Fine, you lead it then."

So Megan set up to lead Pacing the Cage, and delicately smeared up the slab with non-existing holds. This kind of climbing is actually good for her because it doesn't hurt her injured finger tendons. She was soon as the anchor and asked whether I want to lead it or toprope it. "Ummmm... let me just toprope it first." I put on my shoes, moved up a few steps, and was stuck. The crux on this route came right at the beginning when you have to smear up a steep bowl in the slab. Even on a toprope, I couldn't do the moves. I tried going left, tried going right, but just never felt I had a secure foot placement. After stuck there for a long time muttering how much I hate friction climbing, I eventually pinched the bolt hanger between my fingers as a handhold to help my progress, and even then the moves were really hard. I made it to the second bolt and grabbed the draw (well I already pinched a bolt hanger, so why not?) to lean back and rest my burning calves. The rest of the climb eased out some, but the whole route left me totally deflated.


Shaking like a leaf on Pacing the Cage

Now it was my turn to pick something to lead. Forget about this friction slab business, I want something with some features so I can hold on to. I want something easy so I can get an ego boost. Looking through the guidebook, I picked a route called Jacob's Other Ladder (5.8). I mean, come on, it's a ladder, how hard can it be? So we rappelled down to the base of the route, and I racked up to lead it. Ten minutes later I was still on the ground. This was another climb in which the crux comes at the beginning. I was totally shut down by the beginning moves. Worst was the fact that the only pro I could get at the beginning was a green alien I could place from the ground, then there was no other pro (and you probably couldn't get a hand free to place any) until you pulled after the crux. Feeling even more deflated, I was ready to call it quits, when Megan suggested I try to use a tree stump to by pass the beginning crux moves. So I did, after a few hesitant tries, and the rest of the climb was way easier than the crux move. But it was quite runout. The ladder (a dyke) did not offer much oppertunity for gear, there were two face bolts on this route, after clipping the second bolt, there was no gear placement to be found (save for maybe a medium cam just a few feet above the seond bolt) until the anchor. The moves were easy, but after I clipped the anchor, I looked down to the second bolt... if I fall right at the anchor, I may very well end up back on the ground again. Runout, I tell you.


Runout on Jacob's Other Ladder (5.8). Megan was standing at the last pro before the anchor

Getting thoroughly beaten on two climbs, I didn't feel like trying anything harder. Megan lead another friction slab - Ya Gonna Do Something or Just Stand There and Bleed? (5.10a) which I didn't feel like toproping, seeing how even she had some difficulties on that climb. So it was my turn to lead again, I was eyeing this 5.8+ route called High Mountain Woody, which the guidebook gave a 5-star and raved about, "Must do classic!" However when we got there, another party was already on it, with their leader bringing up two or three people still below. Their leader recommended another route nearby - Stefanie's Tears, which was two pitches, 5.9 and 5.8. I decided to lead the second, 5.8 pitch. The pitch followed a short corner crack, more vertical than most climbs at Upper Malamute, and it was very good. The lower part had some big foot holds allowing good rests, but soon the corner became smooth, and it was a strenuous layback all the way to the top. I soon started to get pumped from the layback - probably because I was placing my feet too high and making it hard on myself. Placing gear became difficult for the pump factor, half way up the route I was feeling a bit shaky. But to my right was a short squeeze chimney, since I always try to find the path of least resistance, I stemmed out to the right, sidepulled on the chimney, got myself over to the right and wedged myself in the chimney to depump, much to Megan's dismay, "What are you doing?! You're definitely off route!" I say "pffft!" to that, if I can reach it on lead, then it is fair game.


De-pumping from the layback on Stefanie's Tears P2

After 5 minutes of de-pumping, I placed another piece in the crack while stemming from the squeeze chimney, and I was on my way again, made it to the top without TOO much excitement (the exit moves to the anchor was slightly harder than it appeared, took me a little off guard). I brought Megan up, she made short work of the layback, but agreed that it was a bit strenuous and hard to place gear. It was an excellent climb, I enjoyed it. So we ended the day on a high note, went back to the campground and cooked Udon noodles with pork for dinner.

Climbing adventures in BC - day 2 of 10, not a great start

When the morning came, the first view of the Chief was very impressive. From the campground, you can almost see the First Peak of the Chief, which is 610 m (or 2001 feet) in elevation. Since the Chief is located right next to Howe Sound (which is connected directly to the Pacific Ocean - sea level), the First Peak of the Chief raises about 2000 feet above the campground. As a comparison, Seneca Rocks raises about 900 feet above the valley floor. So when standing under the Chief, it looks twice as tall as Seneca.

View of the Chief from campground in the morning fog

Since our bioclock was still on east coast time and we couldn't sleep past 9 o'clock, we got up, moved our tent to a better site (campsite #4), then headed into the town of Squamish to get some cash, groceries, and white gas. In the process of wondering down the street looking for an ATM, we found a great bakery (Sunflower Bakery) with excellent whole wheat raspberry scones. That was where we would come back often for breakfast. While buying provisions in Save On Food grocery store, Megan informed me that she wasn't feeling very well. She had a high temperature and was feeling weak and dizzy. That was not a good sign. My diagnosis? The previous day of much traveling, not much eating, and not enough rest has gotten to her. My prescription? Lots of rest, proper food, and vitamin C. So after getting some blueberries and other food, we went back to the camp and put Megan into her sleeping bag. I was hoping that if she got enough sleep, her body would be able to fight off whatever sickness was sneaking up on her. So while she napped in the tent, I went about setting up a slackline in camp, setting up a tarp, playing on the slackline... but generally I just lazed around camp and ate lots of food. Our first day in Squamish was not looking too good.

Slacklining in camp

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the weather wasn't cooperating either. It was drizzling a little bit, it wasn't a big rain, not even enough to wet my hair when I was sitting under the trees. But enough that we probably couldn't have climbed anyways.

So our first day in Squamish was a very low key day, full of resting, eating, and lazing about.

Climbing adventures in BC - day 1 of 10, in transit

Getting up at a leisurely hour, leaving my truck at the Washington Metro station parking lot, riding the metro to Washington National Airport, two connection flights and roughly 11 hours later, Megan and I arrived in Vancouver, British Columbia. So our advanture begins...

The Canadian Customs officer was polite, but overly suspicious of Megan and I.
"How did you two meet, since one of you is Australian and the other is American?"
"We met while rock climbing."
"Oh, you're rock climbers?"
"Yes, we are going climbing at Squamish."
"Ahhh, so what kind of knife are you carrying?"
"Huh?"
"I mean you must carry a knife when you climb?"
"Ummmm, yeah, it's this small knife about this long." *Gesturing with hands*
"Does it have any sort of spring loaded mechanism?"
"... No."

Climbing gear and, apparently, dangerous knives

But we were finally let into Canada, and all is well. Picked up the rental car at Budget, the lady at the counter was very friendly and helpful. She even walked us out to the car in the parking lot, "Please be gentle with her, she's brand new." Our rental only had 42km on the odometer, hmmmm... not the smartest thing to give a brand new car to climbers.

As we drove through Vancouver, we came to a street with many Asian restaurants. Since we were hungry, we stopped and had a big dinner at a Chinese seafood restaurant, very good food, if a little pricy. After dinner we drove on, and promptly got stuck in traffic for a looooong time. The bottleneck? Some sort of police road block that was only allowing one lane of traffic to go by in a four lane highway. What the $@#@@!!

After the road block the traffic was light and smooth, but we still didn't get to the Stawamus Chief Provincial Park campground outside of Squamish until 11:30 pm, after they've closed the gate. Luckily the campground was very close to the gate, we walked in, found the first empty site, set up the tent while breaking all sorts of speed records, and crashed. It has been a long day. The Chief was not visible, just a dark shadow looming high above the campground against the night sky.