The Chief is an Indian leader towering over his tribe, testing out each members dedication and skill; not in the traditional hunt of buffalo and the sculpting of animal faces, but rather in the climbing of his face. He is the 2nd biggest granite monolith in the world and forms part of the major British Columbia - BC climbing mecca, Squamish. Squamish has plenty of shorter single pitch routes to get a taste for an experience on the grand wall of Chief, and being apprentice crack climbers, that's where we began. We particularly liked the Smokey Bluffs where we practiced bettering the jamming technique where your hands and feet and any other eligible body parts get shoved into the cracks to help you up the wall, and the lieback style which involves laying back with both hands pulling on a flake while your feet push against the wall and your bum sticks out.
But rain kept setting us back. Rain that poured for hours and days and would soak the rock to its core, and force us inside our van. Luckily my uncle's house in Vancouver became a haven where we spent our time enjoying Jeff and Elle's endlessly entertaining company over wild salmon dinners... why do they call organic food organic? Well because it contains organs of course.... slap knee lol.
But despite the jokes, Squamish called us back, and after the sun came out we committed ourselves to a longer route called “Diedre” on the “Apron” wall of the Chief. But it was seeping with unwanted juices and so we pushed our hands into slimy crevices, and slipped on our feet. We tried in vain to keep the rope dry, but ended up with it marinated in mud. It seemed to be a recipe for disaster; undercooked climbers, and too much moisture, but the Apron is an appetiser for the Grand Wall on the Chief. It tempted us for more.
But from intense rain, to intense sun, a few days later at the “Upper Malamute” the heat was unbearable. We were cooked, and dripping with sweat in places I didn’t know could sweat. I took the lead on a climb, and placed the perfect sized nuts and cams in the crack keeping them well spaced. The timing was perfect, I felt strong, confident; the ingredients were good, but I was basking - oven up too high at over 100 degrees. After the 4th piece of gear, my foot slid as I was about to clip the rope in and I tumbled, the rope flipping me backwards so I hit the wall upside down. I grabbed the rope, shaking and screaming; not knowing if I was dead meat or alive. “Its ok, its ok, calm down....let me lower you; your hurt ” I heard; not the Iron chef, or Gordon Ramsay, but Nic. No, your not chopped in half he said, you wont be tonights bbq, there's nothing broken, only bruised.
Oh, and look at that! You have a butt tattoo from Black Diamond! But tattoos take time to heal, along with lost confidence after taking a big whipper. The Chief's not going anywhere. One day we will be back to climb the grand wall face.
But rain kept setting us back. Rain that poured for hours and days and would soak the rock to its core, and force us inside our van. Luckily my uncle's house in Vancouver became a haven where we spent our time enjoying Jeff and Elle's endlessly entertaining company over wild salmon dinners... why do they call organic food organic? Well because it contains organs of course.... slap knee lol.
But despite the jokes, Squamish called us back, and after the sun came out we committed ourselves to a longer route called “Diedre” on the “Apron” wall of the Chief. But it was seeping with unwanted juices and so we pushed our hands into slimy crevices, and slipped on our feet. We tried in vain to keep the rope dry, but ended up with it marinated in mud. It seemed to be a recipe for disaster; undercooked climbers, and too much moisture, but the Apron is an appetiser for the Grand Wall on the Chief. It tempted us for more.
But from intense rain, to intense sun, a few days later at the “Upper Malamute” the heat was unbearable. We were cooked, and dripping with sweat in places I didn’t know could sweat. I took the lead on a climb, and placed the perfect sized nuts and cams in the crack keeping them well spaced. The timing was perfect, I felt strong, confident; the ingredients were good, but I was basking - oven up too high at over 100 degrees. After the 4th piece of gear, my foot slid as I was about to clip the rope in and I tumbled, the rope flipping me backwards so I hit the wall upside down. I grabbed the rope, shaking and screaming; not knowing if I was dead meat or alive. “Its ok, its ok, calm down....let me lower you; your hurt ” I heard; not the Iron chef, or Gordon Ramsay, but Nic. No, your not chopped in half he said, you wont be tonights bbq, there's nothing broken, only bruised.
Oh, and look at that! You have a butt tattoo from Black Diamond! But tattoos take time to heal, along with lost confidence after taking a big whipper. The Chief's not going anywhere. One day we will be back to climb the grand wall face.
