Squamishrock

At this moment there is a tremendous roaring in my ears, my eyes are filled with a blinding light which makes me squint and recoil as the wind blasts my body and the dust swirls past me. The noise withdraws with the passing of the truck, its headlamps now a dancing vision of red circles in my retinas, and the artificial wind disipates. The light fades from my eyes as the night seeps back into my vision, and once again I am able to focus on the stretch of highway before me. The twinkling stars above catch my attention, and I look skyward to meet their gaze. Interrupted on my visual journey, I am suddenly aware of a gigantic presence lurking beyond the trees; like a silent menace, it's black outline blocks out much of the sky on the horizon. 

Focusing completely upon the entity, He is suddenly aware of its overwhelming size, as each step on the gravelled side of the highway brings it into greater view. The entity appears as a gigantic white phantasm, it's sloping granite flanks bathed suddenly by the pale moonlight; the sheer walls of the upper sections of the monolith appearing like that of a giants' teeth, gleaming in the darkness.

He stop in my tracks and stare in captivity at that which is both terrifying and beautiful; both alluring and repelling; he stares upon the massive granite walls of the Stawamus Chief. He is in Squamish, British Columbia, with the impudent idea that he is to climb upon this great monster's back.He stares at the smooth, featureless wall of the Grand, trying to pick out that one line of weakness, the Split Pillar. The "easiest" line up this gigantic rockface, the grade is an intimidating 5.10b. Would I be fortunate enough to stand triumphant upon the top?

Them partner, Wolfang, his girlfriend Alejandra, and he arrived in the Stawamus Chief climbers campground at about 3 o'clock in the afternoon on September 3. Although it had been raining in Squamish all day, they later found out that this had been the first rainfall in three weeks! Tired from the airport waiting, the taxi ride in Vancouver, and the bus ride to the Chief, the logical thing would have been to hit their sleeping bags and rest for the next day. But we were so excited about our arrival, that despite the drizzling rain and darkness in the forest, we simply had to explore what we had come so far to see.

Squamish had been a dream of mine for some time now; at first discovered by magazine pictures and internet trip reports, and later fantasized about as a destination spot to climb well-protected, highly textured, solid rock. In contrast, the most popular granite in Southern Ontario is the nefarious "Bon Echo", a chosspile of decrepit granite rising from an inaccessible lake. Popular t-shirts depict a slogan which runs something like this: Loose rock, often wet, moss, lichen, black flies, long runouts, difficult routefinding, etc. . . . This aint no f%^&ing climbing gym! You're damned right it isn't; in fact it's probably the anti-thesis of what the modern trad climber looks for. For me Squamish was everything I had ever dreamed of, and more.