Written by Flannery Shay-Nemirow.
We’ve gotten lucky with the weather, managed to roll into town in the middle of a pleasant, warm dry spell. It’s been a bit too warm, but not too bad after a sweltering, yet rainy, Colorado season. It’s my second trip to Squamish, and I spent most of Colorado early season looking forward to it. I’m traveling with a ragtag team of misfits, each bent on crushing the boulders of the Grand Wall. After a somewhat harrowing 24 hour drive, we stumbled into the forest unprepared for the difficulties we would soon face. Maybe it was fatigue (we were 36ish hours without proper rest) or maybe it was the unfamiliar style of climbing, but performance was lacking on our first few days. Or, maybe, we all just paled in comparison to Asher’s climbing. 1 hour out of the car and Asher had already made new friends, scammed some beta and put together a quick ascent of Black Hole (V11). After a marathon sleeping session, the rest of the (mortal) crew was ready to take on the forest.
Our first day brought us Alex Savage, film maker impresario. Alex began our tour of the forest by taking us to Squamish’s most frustrating slabs.
It was then that I understood the potential of climbing in the forest. As much as I was unaccustomed to doing so, I found that I had to give up the quest for more and more points in order to learn something about climbing.
Under the tutelage of some impressive climbers I attempted to commence a crash course in slab climbing. Using my experience working with Dartfish (a biomechanical analysis program) and Athletik-Spesifik I attempted to compare my technique (poor) to the experts. As far as I could tell, the difference depends on some sort of wizardry. After more thought, a lot of climbing things outside of one’s comfort level is about having a willingness to fail on boulder problems well below one’s perceived limit. I was uncomfortable with this, and subsequently have spent a good amount of time complaining under V0 friction slabs.
It may seem, at this point, that I am just parroting Alex’s previous blog, but this is just a testament to the validity of his argument. On the third day of our trip I had come to terms with my inability to climb hard in Squamish. And then, I found a great V3, crystally, not-too-tall, slab. At first glance, this didn’t seem like a boulder I would have much of a chance on at all, rather it could turn into a heinous project, a lifetime nemesis.
But after one or two false starts I found myself sending while standing on imperceptible edges, smearing on no-shadows and balancing on crystals. This, I think is what slab climbing should feel like. By no means have I obtained mastery over slabs, but I have gained some control over my ego, and much more trust in my previously schiesty footwork.
At the time of this writing, I have kind of changed my focus from friction slab to committing finishes and high cruxes. It has been inspiring to both be able to identify my weakness, and have the motivation to work on strengthening them. It’s the first time in my climbing career that I’ve attempted to get better as a climber, not just finish a project. I sincerely plan to continue this plan of attack to raise my climbing ability to the next level.
Squamish is an amazing location. It’s got everything, as any BC vacation brochure would be sure to mention. But even saying that is selling the area a little short. Unlike a lot of US climbing destinations (Hueco, Joe’s Valley) the town is replete with nationally ranked coffee shops and sushi. It’s hard to beat the proximity to the climbing, even though we aren’t camping, we are still only 5 minutes from the boulders. Rest days have epitomized the versatility of the city, we’ve gone swimming, slacklining, shopping and had a nice dinner all in the span of a few hours.
When driving into Squamish, it’s impossible not to notice the crowning visual achievement of the Chief.
The forest is like something out of a fairy tale, and provides the best conditions on hot days. Everyone seems hugely motivated and helpful, always offering pads or the option of beta. Not only have the strangers been nice, but it’s been a pleasure getting to hang out with good friends, and make new ones.
On the penultimate go I fell trying to readjust on the hold after the crux. The next go, I stood underneath the line, and found the calm I need to climb something tall and near my limit. I pulled on, got every hold to the best of my ability, ignored my new found foot skills on the top jugs and campused to the lip.
Lucas is alive! Have not see you in years.