There.. Are.. Four.. Pitches: Star Chek
If you’re a die hard Trekkie you may get the reference in the title of this post. If not, then don’t worry about it. A few weeks ago I climbed a multi-pitch route named “Star Chek”, probably named as a play on the name of the popular Sci-Fi show and due to it’s location, above the Cheakamus River, being out of this world. I’d been mentioning this climb to a friend of mine, Adrian, for a while. Ever since I seen pictures of it from reports online the idea of climbing this exposed Arête of rock while a torrent of white water roared below seemed so tantalizing. I’m not at a skill level yet where I could lead it so I’d need Adrian to go on the sharp end of the rope. The stars, pun intended, aligned, and he offered to lead it with me. He’d be passing it on his way North to do some camping so it would work out perfectly. It ended up being myself, Adrian and his better half, Sophie. On the morning of the climb the weather did not seem to be on our side. It was showering and the idea of climbing wet, slick rock was losing it’s appeal. I met up with Adrian and, always the optimist, he said that we should go check it out at least. We got to the parking lot and it was still raining on the windshield of the car. I commented and said that we could do it another time when it was dry if they wanted. Adrian, still being optimistic, wanted to wait. After about a half hour, the rain didn’t seem to be abating much and Adrian said: “We should go”. I initially thought he meant that he wanted to leave and go away, but when I seen him get out of the vehicle and start getting his stuff I realized he wanted to go do the climb. At the very least he wanted to get to the base of the climb and see what the rock was like up close. I’ve written about this in the past in my post “Get your nose against it” and how you should always go as far as you can before turning around but on this day, with it raining, I was thinking about breaking my own rule and throwing in the towel at the parking lot. Adrians gusto was infectious though so we grabbed our stuff and began descending into the gorge that would lead us to the base of Star Chek. After about 10 minutes I noticed something odd. The rock further down in the gorge...
The slippery slope to becoming “those kind of people”
We’re those kind of people now aren’t we? Spring said this as we sat down to watch a nature documentary and drink a liter of some kale, ginger, beet and other various fruits and vegetables concoction she had made with our extremely expensive masticating juicer. We’d just spent the weekend Skiing, Rock Climbing, Mountain Biking, Trail Running and felt a little anxious that we hadn’t crammed in more to do. Our spare bedroom has never seen a bed since we moved in, we have racks of our gear strewn about the place in various states of being dried out, aired out, packed or unpacked. We haven’t bought a piece of non-technical clothing in years. It doesn’t matter what garish color it comes in, if it wicks sweat and is quick drying, or has a high heat retention to weight ratio I’m sold. In fact, the more obnoxiously colored the better. I buy my clothes now based primarily on the assumption that I want a search and rescue helicopter to be able to see me better if I have an accident deep in the wilderness. Yup, we’ve become “Outdoorsy!” I used to hate people like me. They made me feel lazy. I’d go play soccer on a Sunday and as I was making my way home from my one bout of aerobic exercise for the week I’d see that guy. That guy who I’d see biking on a Tuesday, running on a Wednesday, carrying a tennis racket on a Thursday. I hated him. How did he have that kind of energy? Like everything, our progression has been a slow process. I’ve heard others say to us: “Wow! You guys are progressing quickly” but to us it feels like we are moving at a snails pace. I guess because we can see each link in the chain it feels slower, like the adage “a watched pot never boils”. We just try to learn something new each time we do something we love outdoors. Our “comfort zone” is something we actively try to find ways to get outside of. Without even noticing it, through doing this, we’ve completely overwritten our past way of life. When I used to see “Outdoorsy” folk and overhear them talking about chia seeds or a new Hot Yoga class they were attending and how strenuous their coming weekend was and how excited for it they were I always thought: “How do people become such a cliché? I mean don’t they see it happening?” Well, as a recent convert I can enthusiastically say, “no, we did not, until now”. It’s only in retrospect that I can see the process. Like dominoes toppling...
Empetrum Peak: A Photo Essay
For most people seeing a forecast of straight sunshine through the weekend would be reason enough to jump up and click their heels. It usually would for ourselves also if it wasn’t for the unseasonably warm weather pushing the freezing level way up. Freezing level is important to the Spring time Mountaineer. Ideally a Mountaineer wants the freezing level to be at least at the elevation of the beginning of the route to ensure the snow will be firm and relatively stable to move across. With the freezing level way higher than any of the mountaineering routes we had our eyes on we changed our plans. Empetrum Peak had been on my mind for a while. The peak itself is relatively benign and getting to the summit is pretty straight forward from most aspects. Some mountains are interesting in and of themselves, while others, like Empetrum, are interesting, at least to me, because of the vantage point they offer on other mountains in the vicinity. Empetrum sits just North of the ubiquitous and aptly named “Black Tusk”, a volcanic plug that is an icon of Southwest British Columbia. From this vantage point you can see Mount Garibaldi, directly to lookers left and Mount Tantalus, directly to lookers right of the Tusk, both iconic mountains themselves. I planned for us to spend the night on the summit to see the sunset and sunrise. Being North of the Black Tusk would allow us to see it’s West face painted at sunset while it’s East face would be dark, and then vice versa at sunrise. From a photographic point of view I really like this stark contrast of light and shadow on mountains. One consolation of the high freezing levels was that the temperature on the summit of Empetrum Peak was forecast to be mild with low winds so myself and Spring chose to sleep out under the stars in bivy sacks and forgo bringing a tent. I find a tent to be a mental crutch sometimes, a little piece of civilized space that we bring out into the wilderness with us so that we can escape the wild when we feel at our most vulnerable whilst sleeping. Whenever possible I try to bivy as that connection with nature is never broken. Through the night I’d stir awake and be free to gaze across at the silhouette of the mountain ranges in view and the countless stars above me. The security that is lost from not having a tent is more than made up for in the sense of freedom that is gained. We made two new friends on this trip, Jess and Hailey....
Chivalry in the Mountains
This post may ruffle a few feathers but it’s written with the intent to start a conversation rather than create an argument. I want to be very clear from the outset that I’m not saying people shouldn’t be chivalrous. I am saying that a male should be equally chivalrous to other males as well as females when it comes to being in the Mountains. The Modern Western male is all about gender equality. However, some men still make caveats to this equality. They feel it is necessary to hold on to the old gender roles that they tell themselves “benefit Women”, we like to call this “Chivalry” or “Gallantry”. You might say that if it isn’t hurting anyone then why stop? The male wants to do it and the female appreciates the kindness and attention. In a normal social context I’d wholeheartedly agree. Facing the elements and risking your life in the mountains is not a normal social context however. The problem is that in an arena (eg. Mountaineering, Climbing) were a female needs to be equal to a male not only socially, but mentally and physically it does hurt them. It stunts their progress. Progress a male easily makes because nobody is trying to be “nice” to them and inadvertently holding them back. My wife, Spring, is strong. She can run farther and faster than me. Carries a greater percentage of her body weight than me on her back when backpacking and rarely complains about the cold even though, as a female, she feels it more than males. But, even though she has all of these qualities, she frequently confides in me that she doesn’t want to feel like she is a “burden” on the male members of our groups. I often questioned why I don’t feel this way. If I’m slower than some in the group I accept it. If I’m faster I make allowances for those that are slower. I carry my share of the weight and look after myself. Why would Spring feel she could be a burden on the males in the group? Then I seen it. At times some males in groups we would be in would offer to assist or help Spring way more than they’d offer to help other males (even the ones that appeared slower or weaker than her). When we’d take turns carrying our ropes up a mountain some males would insist that Spring should not have to carry it. Now, I know all of these males meant well and our society has brought men up to feel they need to be like this to be a “Gentleman”, and, like I said, in a purely...
Rohr lives up to name. Everyone surprised.
“Ugh! That Whiskey Jack ate my loogie” Cody sat on the remnants of the column of snow that he’d dug out to do a Snow Stability test. A persistent weak layer that had formed near the beginning of the month was lingering. The column had serendipitously split just high enough to make for a nice high perch to sit on as he scarfed down some calories. Spring joked “You look like a King on his throne…yeah… *low voice* Winter is Coming!“. Much to her chagrin nobody, but I, got her Game Of Thrones reference so she let it slide, no pun intended. Cody, living up to his net nom de plume as “The Camel”, hocked a loogie into the snow beside him. Within seconds it froze solid, within a few seconds more a keen eyed Gray Jay swooped down and flew away with that frozen morsel to a nearby branch to devour it. Slightly disgusted but amused by this scene it had at least taken our thoughts away from the weather for a moment. A low ceiling of cloud hung close above us, winds were picking up and it was intermittently hailing and snowing. We’d made it just above the treeline and from here on out we’d be climbing further and further into the clouds and the reduced visibility they promised. This wasn’t the Spring day I had imagined. This felt more like a day during the depths of Winter. Once again this troupe had been caught on the hop in the unpredictable weather of the shoulder seasons. We packed up again and continued on. I couldn’t help but laugh. The last time the four of us, myself, Spring, Ben and Cody, had been out in the mountains together was last Fall. We had attempted, and reached, the summit of Mount Frosty. Back then we had gauged for warmer Fall weather. What we got however was the birth pangs of Winter, with temperatures below -15’c, a biting wind, and a fair amount of fresh snow on the ground. Frosty had lived up to its name, it was in fact very frosty. Fast forward through Winter and finally, in the beginning of Spring, all our schedules aligned so that we could get out again together. In town the weather had been warm, it hadn’t snowed at sea level in months and, at times, it felt more like Summer weather than Spring. So, when I was packing for Mount Rohr, I packed for warm, Spring conditions. What I got however was the death throes of Winter. As we traversed above two lakes heading to the base of Mount Rohr we’d get...
