The Sqwistlerton Spray

Episode 2 – Yak Peak and a Skaha Thanksgiving Coreshot

rockingtall — Wed, 22 Oct 2008 06:01:09 +0000

Never content to ply their trade in fine conditions, the Sqwistlerton Sprayers ignored a rare clear break in otherwise rainy coastal conditons (refer to TR1), and headed interior-wards in search of alpine and desert-winter climes in which to climb and shiver. The multiple objectives of this trip were 1. Yak Check and 2. Miscellaneous 5.10 Skaha Trad.

Chapter 1. Routefinding: The Merritt of avoiding the pigs on the toll-free highway

With the solid plan in place to sleep at the base of Yak Peak for an alpine start, the Sprayers hurtled themselves past the now-defunct Coquihalla toll booths in search of the obvious granite peak. Once well into the cowboy country surrounding Merritt, it occurred that a dark mountain in the clouds might be hard to see against the pitch black cloudy sky, and a U-turn was implemented. After a 45 minute backtrack operating by instruments only (a photocopy of the guidebook page), our team found a truck pullout where they hoped to locate the oft-referenced 24 hour snack bar that sits at the base of Yak. Finding only a truck load of pigs making disturbingly pained and human-like noises, the team quickly lost their appetite for bacony snacks and headed on to the next available pullout and celebrated with an at-times-comfortable car bivy!

Chapter 2. Yak Peak

Figure 2.1 Yak Peak – Thanks John Lang for the Yak photos!

Emboldened by the crag-like aspect of Yak Peak, and a suitable lack of alpine experience, we decided to use Sara’s brand-new 9.4 mm dental floss-esque climbing rope in single-rope style, with Andrew’s 7 mm tag line (obviously pilfered from a travel sewing kit) as a rap line. This was despite most trip reports showing what appeared to be two 11mm lines in double-rope style, and tales of rock fall and sharp edges.

Figure 2.2 Cautious optimism: winter wonderland conditions prevail at the base

The slabs leading to Yak Crack were marginally climbable by kicking steps in snow-filled corners in our approach shoes: these mini-coulouirs proved to be strong enough to support bodyweight, with some notable exceptions. Bouyed by naive optimism about the climb, and having completed a very (by Squamish standards) lengthy approach and not discouraged by the fact that the headwall was entirely verglassed, the climb was still in full swing! Sara pointed out that the falling ice and water running behind the verglas and under the snowpatches that supported us might become more of an issue as the day continued to warm, but Andrew was keen to press on for tens of feet more. Roping up, Andrew attempted first an icy dyke that yielded some positive results, but turned into verglassed slab. Sara bravely belayed as Andrew retreated over to an icy but protectable corner, which Andrew bravely retreated from once hand-smearing on ice made biner operation impossible, and frostbite a very real concern. The weather was improving, and with it all of the snow and ice on the mountain was poised to exact its revenge on us for being so brazen as to make a winter attempt on Yak.

The bear necessities: when traveling in the wild, always pack firecrackers and a large school group to keep the bears at bay.

Some disconcerting downclimbing deposited our discouraged duo at the top of the approach, where given the improving weather it was decided to hike up the East buttress to the summit of Yak Peak, following in the footsteps (literally) of a friendly group of phys-ed students, their leaders, and a curious bear.

We summited and were lucky to have the other party take some glamourous shots of us (Figures 2.3-2.4), which Sara worried would look too much like Figure 2.5 to use in the trip report.

Figure 2.3 Sara is knighted (but not benighted!) on the Yak summit

Figure 2.4 Note position of helmet

Figure 2.5 No comment

Thankfully the pictures were not similar. In our picture, it is the individual on the right who is wearing a helmet! The comparison did bring our clothing choices into question. Perhaps we overdressed for the hike? A simple fur miniskirt would likely have sufficed. Swords were also found to be in short supply.

After a satisfying day of alpine vistas, we headed to Skaha in the friscalating dusklight.

Chapter 3. Skaha

After slogging up Yak in the snow, the hypothesis was put forward that the usually arduous hike in to the Skaha Bluffs would exact a larger toll than usual. It was to our great relief that the previous day’s hike had somehow acclimatized us to walking, and the 100 stairs which welcome climbers to Skaha were a welcome relief to our talus-weary ankles.

Moderate Skaha gems started to fall to the combined talents of the Spray-ers: much-needed sleep-ins and late starts ensured consistent energy levels throughout the afternoons. Day one’s notable ascents were Screeching Wall’s Orange Bird (Sara) and Sewer Rat (Andrew)–both very long routes to attempt on the day after hiking a mountain, but quite enjoyable even when quick-to-pump. Day two saw Fern Gully’s Basement Abortion (Andrew) and Slippery Slit (Sara) completed in impeccable style (quiet cursing only), with enough time left to spend a bit of time on Foetus Face, this trip’s token nod to sportclimbing.

With our trad warmups completed, and Thanksgiving dinner enjoyed (Thank you Dennis!), we set our sights on the trip’s grand objective: Slow Pitch. This 70m climb sounded long by Skaha standards, and was divided into two 35m pitches comprised of a 10b followed by a 10c. Perfect for our ambitious team to swing leads on, as Andrew is a slightly better climber (10c) than Sara (10b). We hiked out to The Prow with spirits that remained high until we set sights on our goal.

“Your lead.” said Andrew, upon inspection of the cave-and-roof system that characterized the first third of the pitch–these are hidden behind a tree in the guidebook. Shaking from cold (not fear…honestly), Sara boldly took to P1, climbing a full 10 feet before boldly asking Andrew to ‘take!’ Without the pressure of the onsight hanging over her, Sara groveled her way past the initial bulge, up hand and finger cracks, and under a blocky roof, milking the many rests along the way. Confused by abandoned rap tat and likely wanting to avoid the 10 meters of lovely hand and finger crack that stretched before her, Sara traversed out right to the wrong belay station and brought Andrew up behind her. Andrew kindly finished Sara’s pitch, which the guidebook indicated would terminate at an eyrie (eagle toilet).

Leading off from the eyrie launched our party into rock of a much different character. Here, loose blocks and balancy moves gave way to a cruxy lieback section, all protected by small wires in suspect rock. An improbably long traverse led to the finish. Taking care to protect the traverse for the second, Andrew set into play a combination of unfamiliar and less-than-benevolent forces.

Chapter 4. Coreshot

The aforementioned set of forces were instrumental in producing the following dialogue:

Sara: “take?!”

Rope: “SNAP!”

Sara (referring to the camalot that somehow tore itself from the rock, unclipped from the rope, and catapulted into the valley below): “We lost a cam! What happened there??!?!”

Andrew (noticing the horrifically unsettling coreshot): ”Uh, Sara? Do you have hang on the rope right now?”, words which are second only in panic-inducement to the familiar call: “Don’t weight the rope!”

Slightly concerned by Andrew’s question, Sara managed to haul herself up on a small left-hand hold and safety in to a BD #0 C3, which is a comforting two sizes away from an ‘aid only’ piece!

Figure 4.1 C3 Camalots – trust your life to several square microns of friction surface!

Figure 4.2 What happened here?

After hastily assembling a prussic below the coreshot, Andrew attempted to maintain composure while uttering “Climb on” and “try not to fall” or something similarly reassuring. Confident that Andrew had resolved whatever minor issue had prompted him to halt her climbing, Sara proceeded towards the anchor. She easily finished the pitch just as Andrew lost his cool, and she was alerted to the problem, which centered around the rope being broken. Sara calmy inspected the damage, and reacted to a near 70m fall onto sharp talus with the assessment:

“I don’t want to die”

With the rap line now compromised, and darkness looming, the shaken Sprayers struck off in search of a gully that the guidebook suggested might take them to the base of the Prow.

Chapter 5. Saying Uncle: Surrendering to A&W’s new burger options

Traumatised by their experience and seeking comfort the pair decided to find solace in the arms of Penticton’s sole and finest open restaurant. As a strict non-practicing vegan, Andrew took a cue from the vibe created by the moustachioed attendant and ordered the Uncle Burger, an optimally sized meal portion for remaining alert for 5 hours of nighttime twisty highway driving. Thanks to a combination of conventional drip coffee and espresso, and no thanks to beef, the team made it safely back to the Lower Mainland to brainstorm less lethal pastimes.

Reader poll/homework assignment:
1. How many rappels can webbing run through bolts be used for before it must be replaced? What if it is 5-7mm static line?

Thanks to John Lang for sending the Yak Peak photos, Dennis for organizing a fabulous thanksgiving get-together in Skaha, and Jer for an experienced opinion on how our rope ended up being coreshot, and how to avoid this deadly situation in the future (ensure directionals are bomber!).

Next Episode: Getting back on the horse – Sara and Andrew confront their fears on the pillowy granite faces of Squamish

Episode 1 – Star Chek

rockingtall — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 06:50:48 +0000

On August 24th, 2008, we headed toward Whistler to climb the moderate multi-pitch sport route: Star Chek. This climb is touted as one of the most scenic routes in the area and, as such, a portrait on this climb has served as crown jewel for many a climber’s Facebook profile. We were excited to see some of the beauty that BC has to offer for ourselves. And we knew others would enjoy seeing us in it afterwards!

Once North of Squamish, the pullout for the hike to the base of Star Chek is 5.8km from the end (not the middle or beginning) of the big orange bridge (BOB). Keep in mind that depending on how many times you miss the pullout on the left, this drive can be significantly longer than 5.8km! For instance, if you turn around prematurely at the salt shed, and do an extra lap over BOB, the mileage will come to approximately 12.4km.

Figure 1. Weather Cheks Out Ok

We arrived at the approach in good spirits. A quick weather chek told us that conditions were perfect for climbing – not so hot that perspiration would be an issue; cool enough that rubber would be at optimal stickiness. Still, we couldn’t see any of the purported scenery that this climb was known for.

Like us, you will need to pinpoint the beginning of the trail that will ultimately lead you to the base of Star Chek. In order to do this, head South from the tourist information sign along the concrete barrier, where something feigning a pathway may reveal itself on your right hand side. Other trip reports claim that this path is clearly marked with flagging tape. It is not. Rather, small rock cairns mark the route you should follow, though they occasionally also mark the route you should not follow. The path meanders through a fanciful faerie landscape, across moss boulders, past a group of mysterious bolted single-pitch climbs and into some fine situations up a steep skree slope. Cross high and hope like we did that it’s not too crowded – the internet is awash in warnings pertaining to not knocking rocks down onto lower parties while approaching. We pushed on through this uncomplicated approach confident that the scenery would make itself evident when we reached the climb proper, and naturally excited to see it firsthand.

Figure 2. Navigation was facilitated by a previous party’s excellent trip report (TR)

Figure 3. Fanciful faerie landscape

Please note that full washroom facilities are not available at Star Chek. Unless you have a cat-like ability to both balance on steep slopes and bury your waste, it is recommended that you use the washroom at Star Bucks instead.

Figure 4. First Belay – It’s ok. May feel some spray, don’t let it ruin your day!!!1!

A fixed rope allowed us to reach the first belay without knocking the entire scree slope into the river below. As indicated in previous TRs, there was a rushing river below the belay, although it appeared a bit closer than in the pictures we’d seen. Perhaps the area had seen recent rainfall. Scenery remained elusive, but our many year of trad climbing experience told us that often the first pitch does not provide the magnificent vistas that do the upper pitches. Andrew chalked up and took the sharp end for the short P1.

Figure 5. Rock climbers often use a thick coating of chalk-and-water paste to gain improved purchase on cliff features

Figure 6. P1 = Done.

The chalk paste worked! P1 went down with no major hurdles. The second belay proved as dull as the first. Nonplussed, Sara took over the lead for P2, which rode the arete through some exposure. Andrew excitedly belayed.

Figure 7. Sara, as usual.

Figure 8. Enthusiasm levels remain high!

Figure 9. Hey Andrew, have you seen my belay device?

Figure 10. Yes! – Sara’s Reverso3 in action prior to its untimely demise.

By the third belay, our entire party was beginning to wonder what all the fuss was about. We had been stocking up on superlatives for (literally?) tens of hours prior to this climb, and still had no use for them. None of the research we did on this climb indicated how slow-to-dry it is when it is raining. Perhaps this is due to its close proximity to a raging river? Likely, it was the sight of water (literally!) streaming down P4 that caused Sara’s shiny new Reverso 3 to launch itself off of the belay ledge and into the milky arms of the Cheakamus river below. Mourning the loss of her Reverso 3 and faced with a potential ground fall at the 2nd bolt, Sara shakily backed off of P4, allowing Andrew to demonstrate his tights skills [editors' note: Andrew was (literally) wearing tights]!

Figure 11. Granite provides excellent friction on P4.

Figure 12. Nothing to see here.

The climb to the summit was pretty okay, but the vista itself was rather dull. Bowing to convention we captured a photo of our party having completed these underwhelming few pitches. Then we started the slog back to the car, which begins just up and left of the tree you must belay off if you miss the bolts at the top of the climb. Follow the well-worn path the the left until you reach an impossible-to-descend cliff face where you can turn around, back track and find the actual path out (up and the the right of the bolts–if you can find them).

Figure 13. It is customary for climbers to collect photographic evidence of having reached the top of an objective.

Figure 14. Summit shots are nothing to write home about.

Conclusions:
Do not climb Star Chek. It is a slippery, un-scenic romp through one of BC’s most nondescript areas. Other trip reports are actionably misleading. Should you foolishly choose to make an attempt on this summit, be sure to pack a dry pair of socks for the long drive home, as they will make the discomfort of your wet pants almost bearable.