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.