Stumbling up the North Gulley trail we just barely managed to dump our not quite big enough load of supplies on a huge boulder at the base of Zodiac Wall. Staring into the darkness and leaning over backwards, we could see nothing but the summit rim. It didn't matter. We didn't know where the route went, only where it started. We figured it would be obvious. Knowing nothing about a route is like the first ascent in some ways; there's no apprehension about hard nailing and unprotected free climbing. You take everything as it comes. The first ascent party (Fred and Leif and others) called it a six.

Rumours of expanding blocks in roofs and overhanging leads on tied off roots flashed through our minds next morning as we again stumbled up the trail, looking up instead of down. An unnecessary bolt fifteen feet off the ground confirmed that we were on route. Enjoyable free up a flake system ended at a ledge. Fantastic! A gallon of water from the first ascent to add to our one. Hesitating for some strange reason, I glance down at the mouse floating belly up therein. No longer thirsty, almost sick, I fire it off into the gully. It explodes on a flat topped boulder and shatters the ominous silence.

Steve works up and left in a huge awkward downward hanging flake system. After several strenuous mantels onto moss ledges he reaches the end of his rope. Leaving his station in a steep corner, a well formed crack left under the ten foot triangular roof above. A couple of hook placements, a few bolts and then a beautiful system of thin face cracks leads into the first bolt ladder.

The sun pierces the damp clammy gulley. It comes closer and closer until its warmth flows over us. The peaceful valley of the Squamish River is a welcome change from the usual view of towns and mills so familiar to Chief climbers. Steve leads on; strange free climbing-ramps, small grassy ledges. A small grassy nook marks the end of the lead. We laze in the sunshine - peaceful and quiet.

But again it's time to move. Iron rack cuts into shoulders - climbing quickly (another bolt ladder). Mantel off the bolts into a cold eight inch crack. After thrashing around for a while, bongs in lengthwise get me started. More jamming until the rope stretches tight behind me. Thirty feet of easy free gains the monstrous Astro Ledge.

It was unreal. Huge pine needle and sand beds and a gallon of good water greeted us. A warm breeze swept the wall, the pine trees swayed and we were very much at ease.

A hundred feet right of where we had gained the platform, a large overhang server two purposes - a roof for our bivouac and a way to the top. Up its inside corner, a series of stumps marks the route. The dead stumps were uselessly loose now, the rock fractured, and several stumps on the ledge awaiting Steve's fall as he tries to pass the section. It didn't come, and in thirty feet the crack became bombproof once more.

The sun now setting, the brilliant red sky beckoned us to watch. Back to the ledge. Our new system of bivouac food, proven in the Valley are few weeks before, was again put to the test. Bags of popcorn, chips and Coke flooded from out haulbag. So confident at our progress the first day we left one chocolate bar, a bag of popcorn and some water for a summit refreshment. Darkness swept the valley as we did our dessert.

Another cool quiet crystal clear morning dawned quickly. Steve continued his lead around the lip of the overhang as I half-belayed, half-packed the haulbag. Suddenly he was flying toward the ledge. I grabbed the rope and stopped him forty feet from the ground. A phenomenal mantel onto a moss ledge was finally accomplished. Passing his bad belay, a huge low angle groove led on. It was really thick, like a steep jungle. Huge soft ferns grew in the back. Chimneying, jamming and easy nailing led to a bolt halfway. Steve continued, a similar pitch ending in a squeeze chimney with some pins placed in a huge tree root.

Constantly joking until now about the lush vegetation and route markers (stumps), two cracks shot off in different directions over a huge overhanging wall. No stumps visible, they were beautifully clean. No pin scars - no way of telling which way. Following our usual procedure, we followed the easy looking one. Sixty feet up and left, it became obvious it was the wrong choice - the crack petered out. Lowered off my top pin I hung and swung by my waist in mid air. Finally I was able to touch the rock, and got a pin in another system. Ten feet later, several good pins marked the end of the lead.

Steve passed me, and nailing discontinuous cracks was soon twenty feet above. While placing a pin in an expanding system of flakes there was suddenly a horrifying explosion. Spurred on by the thought that my station might be falling out, he was up another twenty feet and onto a tiny ledge in about fifteen seconds! Looking to his right, in the direction of the alternate crack system, a beautiful line of bolts rushed towards us ending in a small pendulum to his stance! A beautiful jam-crack to a sloping shelf ended his lead.

Sun setting and no edges. Fearing another belay seat bivouac I started to lead through the maze of overhangs and corners. Slings on spears of rock led around a roof and onto a small ledge. Darkness pressing, but we knew this was the last lead. Passing a fixed pin confirmed we were on-route. Ten feet later I was lost. Tying off a huge root that was hanging down, I followed it fifteen feet to the tree it belonged to. Cleaning a little moss away revealed a standard angle crack.

Disengaging myself from the wretched tree after a ten foot fall I came to the conclusion that the crack expanded like all shit. Chockstones became a necessity and soon I had twenty feet, another twenty feet to the top. Everything blanked out here, partially because it was pitch dark by now! Ropedrag created an impossible situation. Just pulling up slack provided enough extra force on my pins that they started shifting down. Tying off the haul line and checking the rappel three or four times, I did a bodywrap rappel in my T-shirt, totally overhanging in the blackness. Fortunately I hit the small ledge.

Steve did a spooky overhanging jumar. The ledge was really small - no room to put the haul bag. Removing our summit refreshments, we ate the little that was left. Some more dessert and again everything seemed pretty adequate. Cleaning the ledge of some of the larger more exciting boulders we confirmed that 'Zodiac Wall is a one-bouncer'.

As the tremendous crashes subsided, we again felt very alone. The peaceful night passed very slowly, both of us sitting up, legs dangling, totally exhausted and content. Tremendous white columns glowed eerily in the darkness scarcely a hundred feet away. Thankful for our small sanctuary we rested easy until the very first hint of dawn.

The weather was rapidly deteriorating. I quickly packed the bag as Steve cleaned the pitch to the ledge. After jumaring back to the highpoint, a couple of unlikely moves to the right and up gained a huge ledge. And what a place! Huckleberry bushes fully ripe greeted our thirsty throats. But no need - it had started to pour!

Two mostly third class pitches up and right and we were on a huge forested ledge just beneath the summit. Walking through the waist-high bushes soaked us to the skin. Finally we were up - on the spongy carpet of moss crowning the Chief, with clouds swirling all around us.

.

<<Back