Daisy Duke

Daisy's first ice climb.

Adventure all the way.
 I bought a jeep in the winter of 2009, been without a licence for 9 years and finally knuckled down and dealt with that. It didn't take long to want a vehicle to go with the shiny new licence and i'm not fussy so when this yellow 1990 jeep YJ came along i grabbed it. 1200 bucks. It fired up right away at 20- and then tried to kill me on the way home first drive. front caliper seized with rust and caused nast skidding on the ice and snow plus it really wanted to be stuck all the time. Luckily parts turned out to be cheap! 35 bucks a piece for new calipers 20 for the rear wheel cylinders and a 80 dollar master cylinder put new brakes under the daisy duke.
She had her name before i even saw her, my buddy james said tim doonans got a jeep for sale but its yellow, i said "daisy!" and it stuck.
  I dunno bout anyone else but i liked the dukes of hazzard when i was a kid, and daisy's truck was a jeep YJ a couple years older mind you but still...close enough allready.
  Some othe minor parts ( carbetooter, studded tires, jack, shovel and rope) and i was getting antsy to go do something with my new ride, dion had new axes, the weather was right, its a go! worked on her all week and the weather held. minus 15 to 20, no snow. building good solid ice for sure.
   saturday morning pick deedee up grab coffee and roll out of town in bright sunshine and a perfect -10 calm. made it 15 k out of town just across the bridge at the kiskatinaw river when flapping from the ragtop started to get worse. a roll of tucktape across the front above the window seemed to seal it up pretty good and as we went dion used more inside the vehicle to seal it up better. we knew the deal when we left both of us had our snowgear on like as if we were allready out sledding or boarding so with the heater and no major leaks it was actually quite comfortable inside. the thought of adventure lights dion up like a beacon. his teeth are only eclipsed by his gums when the adventure actually begins and this was no exception. the tucktape whisling in the wind every corner of the road out into the pass holds another story. remember that time? i could ask that all day long and never get the same answer.
   that time we had the snow cave at the top of powder king? no not that time. my first ice climb? the one where you left your crampons behind? no not that time. we are rolling past the base of mount lemoray at the CRS   (can't remove snow)  highway maintainance yard. just past it hidden in a ravine is an ice climb, a steep set of falls just off the road about 4 hundred yards. SNOW ANGELS!!  he finally guesses correctly, we had climbed it once together and it ended up beeing a bit taller than 30 metres. when we tried to get off it on a single rope, rappelling side by each down the wall we came to the ends of our ropes and were still 15 to 20 feet of the snowslope at the base of the icefall! well we had been tossing the idea for snow angels from altitude around for a bit anyways.
  stand flat on the wall parallel  to flat ground and take a couple steps sideways to put some room between us, arms out axes in hand still braking with the right but axe ready nonetheless. A glance, a nod. GO! let go step back into space, right arm out axe up. WHUMP!  WHUMP! twin splats in the waist deep snow.perfect snow angels in perfect snow for the job and a big laugh everytime it comes up in conversation. laughed all the way back to the truck as i recall, and our sides hurt the next day.
  traffic is decent and only a little bit of construction in the pass, roads are dry right untill the construction. When i got her the wipers didnt work and niether did the washers without both in the winter you are fucked if it snows at all. i had ripped the motor out to expose the problem of motor running but not working. missing bolts from rattling away for the last 20 years. reef that linkage bar out of the dash and bend it over and i had a wiper system but the washers were still not working. as we got out of the construction at the top of the pass a semi splatted my windshield with mud and the wipers didnt clear it but spread it so it froze instantly. windows down heads out the side "can i pull over more?"dion saying how much room i have in feet then inches as i slow us down to clean the window and our shorts. a couple raised eyebrow looks back and forth luckily we are just about there anyways.
  we havent actually ever been into this climb before so we decide to go ask a local, in this case whoever is working at the azuzetta lake lodge down the road from the powder king ski area. as  we walk into the the store a picture of someone climbing ice and various large mountain photos greet us on the front wall inside. the cashier is tall bearded with long hair and a lot of sun on his face we ask and he tells us not only directions to the bottom clearly but also that the pictures are his and the ice climb picture is of him leading that climb we are looking for. he writes directions on a napkin and sends us on our way with red bull and chocolate bars.
   That went well!back to where we had to pull over to clean the window, its right where we wanted to be. pull up onto the snowbank on the side of the road turn the daisy off and start gearing up. suddenly serious.
   Boots and snowshoes, harness and cramps and ropes and icescrews all in our packs, axes hung within reach. over the snowbank we go with adventure so close we can taste it. closer actually than either of us suspect. the snow is an inch of light fluffy on top of a 3 inch crust and then several feet deep under that. the first part of our approach is down into a valley a couple hundred yards. not super steep but steep enough to worry us with the crust. we discuss removing our snow shoes but instead opt for getting our axes handy so if we get out of control we can self arrest with them. important mountain skill that it is neither of us have practiced so this seems like a good time. as i step onto the slope all hell breaks loose and the adventure is underway.
 my feet come out from under me and nothing i do will make the snowshoes dig in. i grab my axe with one hand over the head and roll onto it pick down in textbook self arrest position. and watch in horror as it cuts a perfect 5 inch deep gash in the ice crust for 20 feet before i give up on that plan. to make matters even better dion is hurtling along 10 feet behind me at the same ever increasing speed. my only hope is a small willow tree in the last third of the slope just before a good sized droppoff into a couple of good sized poplar. bum skiing is and art form and i put everything i have into aiming for that tree and just manage to get an arm around it. it whips me sideways into the air and around the trunk to the low side just in time for dion to smash into the poor thing. Holy shit! that happened fast! the droppoff is only about 10 feet but the trees at the base would have wrecked us pretty badly. snowshoes are not your friend on steep stuff. lesson learned. also self arrest doesnt work unless its on real ice. nother lesson learned. what else will we learn the hard way today?
 a moment taken to shake the fear of after negotiating the last  15-20 feet of slope and away we go guessing wildly as we have left our napkin with the beta, the down low, the treasure map with an x marking the spot , in daisy. Up there. Booo.....we head upstream on ice covered in snow our shoes barely touching the heavy crust under its skiff of fresh. laughter. nervous at first and then we play remember that time? with a whole new story!
past a small open pool of water at the bottom of a litttle gully out for a walk in the winter wonderland fresh snow floating in the air on every little twig and branch. our breath plumes like locamotive smoke from another time. then around a corner to a steeper larger gully and there it is rising up one side to the top of a rock bluff. its beautiful. fat and blue white turning to clear water ice at the top with 3 scary steep sections linked by the slightest of bulges the longest vertical section looks to be about 20 feet but im sure will feel a mile long once im on it. there is no doubt ill be leading it. it looks serious and dions a strong serious climber, but i have many more years experience and this is steeper than anything i've ever been on. Rock or ice. ever. "Woops. i just barfed in my mouth i think. a little." deedee pipes up.
 I hold up a fist as if to play paper rock scissors. Dijon just shakes his head, "you know this is all yours man"
He's had one climb on early season ice without me. thousands of frost white icicles to smash of and climb through beautiful stuff. he showed me pictures and i was a little jeleous. this is later season ice the icicles have flowed together and sheets of solid ice and then melt water chandeliers have woven together making magical scultures that look lovely but scream hard to protect. getting the feeling now. mouth is dry hearts racing gotta pee bad before my harness goes on. you know. FEAR. the real thing, you could get hurt out here. bad.
its better than 30 meters tall but we brought 2 ropes. i am going to lead it then make an anchor as i see fit and bring dion and the second rope to me so we can rappel off together . judging by the ice at the bottom i wont be able to trust the top enough to drill a v-thread anchor in the ice, but i see trees at the edge and I allways carry a cordalette. just a piece of rope about10 metres long tied in a loop. It makes a sling long enough to reach 3 or more pieces of questionable gear and make one solid anchor that you can trust. it's the mark of a mountaineer ive been told and i carried one well before i knew i was one of those, it just made sense.
we reach the base and dicover its a curtain, there is a couple feet behind the wall of ice under a rock overhang. awsome! a cave to distract us fromthe fear and we kill some time climbing around in behind the fallsbut eventually we are forced to return to plan A.

Gear up and go climb this brute....ok? couch sitting seems much more reasonable but we drove all this way and there just aren't any good couches to sit. dion mentions needlepoint. Possibly? just a suggestion, or gut growing?
crampons and axes, screws and quikdraws. some slings and miscelanious other things that make the impossible possible.  step onto the bulge and sink an axe. thuk! im on but not on belay. the first steep is right there in my face and i reach up high sink another axe. carpentry and fear combine to make my axe placements fastand solid, many onesticks and never more then a couple taps at the others. feet not so sure but kick kick kick till they stick is the way finally up enough to be afraid of falling i hang of a high axe placement and reach for my first screw. the bulge i place above seems solid but an air bubble halfway shows in the slush coming out of my screw so i pull it and move again. the ice to my right is a honeycomb of clear fresh running water ice that i wouldnt even dare sink an axe into but next to iti find some solid. first piece in and clipped.  "on belay" dion seems as happy to say it as i am to hear it. Commited now. climbing in silence i make the top of the first bulge. placements seem harder to find, the ice is not solid, rather a layer on layer type of flowing pockety stuff. i move into the next steep with more fear than ever before climbing on anything. ive never fallen on an ice screw and this stuff doesnt make me want to at all. arms are getting tired already and my next piece i am shaking at the thought of stopping long enough to get it in. reach high sink a pick. hang and go to work. shaking. feet feel insecure like they could blow out at any moment. elvis is in the house and as wade told me years ago and moments before my first lead fall of seriousness when your legs go that hard you have about 10 seconds till the fall. last piece 10 feet under me. a 20 foot whipper onto dubious gear? i dont fucking think so. re rack the screw reach up with the other arm and sink a second axe. deep. really deep. get my feet under me and pull my leash of the left hand, find a long draw and clip my harness then tiptoe high enough to get the other end clipped to my buried axe. god yes. safe. pull both hands of thier axes and let my arms drop limp. shake em out get the blood flowing again. then place in safety. relative safety. if  i lean out hard on that axe it could still blow out. not till the screw is set and clipped do i finaly relax. a woop from dion lets me know the fear is just as real for him. "Good stuff man your looking strong!" i love it when he lies to me!! "feeling strong man" i lie back. reach up and reclaim my axes from the wall hang on my placement a moment longer.
"Climbing!" the call.
"Climb on!" the call back. a routine for the nonroutine. we do these checks at every step of the game. Cameron drills nonstop when we climb together and the habit sticks. dion is learning fast and our checklist includes new things all the time. loading the truck we go through the gear list then into nonessentials. rolling papers? check. lighter? check. he doesnt even smoke! thats a good partner. and these things make the unexpected so much easier to deal with when its serious
The final steep section is thin enough i can see rock through the ice in spots. but its also clear and strong finally. i trust the stubby screw i place under the final bulge more than the first 3 long ones i put in down low. so close now i waste no time resting.
"Placing!"  the game of screw fumble and start. run it in once the threads bite. a steady flow of ice crystals out the end indicating solid ice no pockets.
"Clipping." he feeds enough rope for me to reach the draw and clip in.
"Clipped!" Feel the rope come tight as he takes it in.
"Climbing." and the answer from below, "Climb on!" he'll take as i climb up to the piece and then star paying out as i climb above it. The hard moves of clearing a bulge are all thats left. set axes just under the top and move my feet up as high as possible. Then stand up axes below my chest pull one out and reach way over the top. snow here cant see the ice but i am going to trust its there. one swing stick through 6 inches of snow and a satisfying sound. i trust that and pull the other axe. lean way over the bulgeand plunge the handle into the snow. one foot pops and i am still to low to get it over the edge onto the top off the bulge. Style be dammed i want up. stuff my knee into the snow and grovel over the edgeface full of snow both feet clear now. get them under me and im there. a quick search of the top and i sling a tree with my cordalette anchor building made easy! then a thought. did i turn daisy's headlights off? fuckit, of with my soaked lite gloves. pack off find my down puffy for when the fear sweats start to dry
"Secure!" i yell over the edge.
"Off belay!" the distant answer.
Pull rope till i hear "thats me" set up my belay system and holler "On belay." Routine.
"Climbing!" him. "climb on!" Me.
then silence for a long time. out with the heavy mitts a gift from wade years ago. they were his dad and he gave them to me when he died winter camping the first year we climbed together. ten years ago at least now. gotta love gear like that.
 When dion finally clears the edge i can smell the fear. "Good lead man. you fucking killed it!" his eyes are wide and his smile is forced, no gums now just teeth. im still vibrating but the rush is finally dying. i tell him about the daisy lights and we decide to simurap off and book for the truck instead of top roping this thing in safety now. it would have been good for our technique to put some laps on it without the fear but getting home seems smartest now. rigged for the rap we step over the edge side by side. "wait a sec. "i grab my little flip video cam that looks a hundred years old from the fire it fell in last summer out at the cabin. "cool he says and we start down the wall. it looks super steep from here and when i get to the bottom i dont put my feet under me but just rap into the snow on my back.
"can i untie now?" "ya man your down" he replies, we pack not in a rush but still with purpose. time to go couch sitting or gut growing or something.
The slog out is slow we thought the crust would be strong enough to do without our snowshoes and when it proves to be not we dont bother just posthole onward. our axes in the willows help on the final slope out. the one that tried to kill us coming in.
daisy is sitting on her snowbank with headlights on. i reach for the key and she fires right up. LOVE! we both love you so much right now little jeep.

the ride home is uneventfull except for the game of remember that time. Untill about 25 k away from dawson when the whistling from our tuck tape job dissapears to be replaced by a lot of wind and flapping. dion reaches up just in time to grab the rag and clamp it to the window frame with his hands. he spends the next 15 minutes hanging on for dear life. its 25 below outside and in, i ask if hed rather i slow down a bit but the grin answers for him. go man go lets go home!

squamish pics

a typical anchor constructed on bolted hangers sticky rice and sweet sausage. simu-rappeling with mike b. the walk off broadway ledge after the climb.second pitch of diedre with micheal boronowski
(hes the curly headed one)

belongs with mail for marla but im new here so i'll just post pics separate.

mail for marla, a climbing story

Day 1
Well this is it, on the road again. Back seat of a grey dog headed for the coast, Squamish to be precise.
Paint covered hands dyed brown from grout this morning. finally rolling, be in Vancouver before I get to change out of my work duds, oh well gonna sleep a good potion of the trip anyway. A couple luckys , a half bottle of over proof vodka and some reefer should make that easy. Not to mention the colt cigars I recently started smoking hit me like heroin.
It’s a climbing trip now folks. my pack in the belly of the dog loaded with rope and gear. My carry on with the creature comforts, a sketch pad, pens, and my new friend, this tiny acer computer full of climbing porn, bmx porn, snowmobile porn, music, ideas, and of course, porn porn . Pens and pencils finish the creative necessities. Not loaded heavy by any means should be easy to complete the mission.
Yes, the mission. bus to van and meet up with Mike B. carry on from there to Squamish with him in his set of wheels and climb our asses of for the weekend. Forecast for the weekend is hot hot hot so it’ll be a treat when the weather does turn cooler. Spring is the wet season but my years down south spotted a pattern. May 24 weekend seems to be smoking more often than not and I’m willing to gamble. If I can find partners once mikes gone my leaving will be determined by low funds or bad weather and by low funds I mean the last 50 is turn around. My ticket was 200 bucks so I’m definitely hitch hiking home.
Not that that bothers me I’ve been one end of B.C. to the other, every month of the year in ever kind of weather so many times I stopped counting years ago and cant remember the number I stopped at anyway. Looking forwards to it even, a chance to spend time alone then a chance to meet someone totally new. This mode of travel has been good to me mostly and even the tough breaks have had their part in making me who I am today..
There was a plan to meet several others in Squamish but so far mikes the only concrete contact. Fine by me. For a rookie mikes got a lot of heart, and he’s meticulous when it comes to safety. He’ll listen well and learn a lot with only two of us. The others, Cameron lord a long time friend since elementary school, has to work. Dave and Megan punk as fuck back in the day now saving for an Africa trip. Tessa one time love of my life tree planting and unable to reach. may still show, not holding breath..
Big sky full of puffy pillow clouds on the horizon too the west, tumbler ridge still buried under snow I’m sure. We had 5 inches in Dawson creek this week and tumbler is right on the edge of the Rockies a hundred kilometers West . Which means that my object of desire, first ascents at an unexplored crag know to us as the end of the road are still so far out of reach they may as well be in the himalayas Means there is no way we can get in to the beginning of that road even. Good time to go south and let the snow finish melting up here.
Chetwynd, rolling south still. Should be passing Hassler crag soon, snows all gone and I could be climbing here. But no the ice cream shop in chetwynd is up for sale and no longer open. As my cousin , boss and climbing partner Jarrett Berg says “we’ve climbed here lots , no fuckin ice cream I’m outa here” I agree and hope there’s a decent scoop of ice cream at the gas bar in tumbler ridge which is a fair bit smaller than chetwnd even.
Stopped and had “chicken “ on a stick and some potato wedges from the 7-Eleven worked today fairly steady till it was time to go to the bus so food is good, in the interest of health however (climbing trip remember) an apple and bottle of v-8 juice finish the meal. it’s a strong Caesar and I wish I had my kitchen with me some Tabasco etc would have been nice.
Managed to burn half a Doobie beside the bus. asked the driver if we had time to go smoke holding out my pack of colts, he said yes so as he did his inspection of the bus I blazed the doob from in the pack. The wind was blowing out into the parking lot and he said nothing as he came back round so I finished a couple more hauls and slipped the roach into my colt pack.
Hassler crag is clean and lovely looking as we roll by in the bright afternoon sun and I’m draw back to the early years. The struggling for moves that seem so natural now the wonder if I’d ever find the impossible moves difficult ever, still so much room for improvement but so much more relaxed with what I know now. Next stop is Mackenzie, sun will be low by then and I’ll use my stop to puff on a colt this time. Should be out like a light after that, sleep till prince George and hopefully again after the transfer there. By morning we’ll be in Hope and by then I’ll have a story for tomorrow, today’s is done I think except for the rest of living it of course.

Snow in the pine pass as I roll past Mt. Murry. Mike Boronowski's stag party comes to mind .3 ropes and a slew of fools on them. Me, Jarret and Dion leading.separate teams Each team simu-climbing side by side on the halfway slab. A 100 metre feature of 50 degree rock that breaks the gully up to alpine ground. Jarrett out left on thin to no protection. Blank dirty face moves. Me in the middle on a thin but visible continuous crack, and Dion in the relative safety of the right hand shelf system laybacking and plugging big gear into the wealth of cracks on its face next to him. Its all easy climbing but the fear is real especially in Jarretts team.
Jarrett trying to step out onto the snow pack in the avalanche chute further up only to slide on hands and feet digging like a cat on a tin roof, snow spraying desperately from all four corners. Stopping and waiting patiently for Dion to come rescue him…how? "I don’t know how just throw me a rock, anything just do it now please!" Smashing footholds in and moving back to safe safe rock and dirty trail. Mid July hot as hell still several feet of hard snow in the chute. Later full of bravery fueled by good rock exposed climbing and the ridiculous amounts of booze hauled up by the non climbers we invent rock bogganing down it, like bum skiing but on a rock! Jarrett leads the rockbogganing he doesnt drink He gets belligerent he says so he just doesn’t. I’ll vouch he does, but its always in good humor and I take pleasure in bringing lucky lagers (our grandpas beer of choice) which I know he will drink at camp after climbing. Two of those and hes a real rowdy, hooting and hollering all smiles and red in the face.
As my boss in the shipyard once referring to our whole crew on nights after one of the boys got busted with a beer in hand after shift. "I don’t know if they were drunk. Those boys are seasoned." Seasoned I am so I drink moderately enjoying the day and the rock and the sun and wind and weed that Jarrett is continuously rolling up.
Dions a rookie and he knows it so he has a summit beer and waits to hit the sauce hard until the halfway slab on descent , by the time we are back at the truck he nearly has to be carried. Success! we have climbed our mountain and except for Woodstolk and Jarrett all team members have achieved their secondary goal of complete insobriety.
 Mt. Solitude and Powder King, a handful of short ice climbs. All roll past my window as the sun sets. Prince George and a transfer of buses. Sleep after that, better roll it up for the stopover wasted time is frowned upon.
Day 3
Well nothing to do now but tell the tale. Back in Burnaby at Mikes,sore as hell all over. The shower was a welcome cleansing and a painful reminder. Good and sore all over. By three o’clock today we were at the lake south of the Big Chief. Murrin park, watching some locals boulder and trying feebly to pull on the odd hold. Mike sat and drank beer willing to admit he was done. Epic day all told, we checked the guide book and ten stars we climbed. Enough to collect 10 stars out of the book where 3 stars is as stellar a route as you could ever ask for we climbed 2 three stars and a handful of others with and without stars in the last 3 days.
Day 2
After Prince George I made a friend on the bus and went for breakfast and a bee her.2 hours to kill till Mike gets off at 1:00.
Went shopping. New pocket knife, same old Opinel. Price went up to 17 dollars for the #7. Shiny new 3 inch Metolius power cam. Means nothing to a non gear head. And a pair of pants. New, kind of stretchy, kind of waterproof kind of techy. Not my concrete, drywall, and glue crusted carharts for climbing and camping any way
Connections with Mike go flawlessly, we roll into Sqwamton bout 5 o’clock, make it as far as Murrin park. Park here I tell mike, he pulls up to up from the bog. 1 star 25 meters 5.8 and I proceed to get the shit scared out of me for Mike an Aussie and his Newfie girlfriends amusement. Climb over. Me and Mike simu-rappel off for the first time this weekend. It’s a scary tecnique that saves time by sending a person down either side of a doubled up rope, meaning we both have to weight the system at the same time or one will fall. Forearms red and tingly, hearts pounding scared and apprehensive. That was a lot harder than I’d hoped, maybe downgrade my grand plans of big multi pitch climbs a little?
We check into camp and meet our neighbors a long hair and a shorthair eating of the barbeque on their tail gate. Washington plates. Grabbing our packs, the cooler, my cowboy hat, the apples, vodka and smokes etc. the long hair calls us gear heads and laughs. We laugh back, wait’ll he see’s the fruits of our labors
Dinner is sticky rice and sweet pork sausages with a chunk of fresh salmon poached with lemon butter garlic and onions under a pile of fresh Kale from Mikes balcony garden, a little bit of chives and a cold beer….too perfect. Till desert that is, I tell Mike about a vision I had in Prince George on the way down and he’s in.
I roll a blunt, cigar tobacco and weed. Then I poke a hole thru the core of a granny smith apple, a smaller hole at an angle intersecting and the blunt fits nicely Light it up, draws and smokes tastes of apple. Cool dense smoke. A shot of the over proof vodka and a bite of apple….bong hoot, swallow, exhale, try it again in a different order. Eventually we decide hoot shot bite hoot is best but is close next to hoot bite shot hoot. We Decide before bed Deidre is the one, 8 pitches of moderate climbing, 3 stars. Early start, beat the crowds, etc.
Well 8 isn’t exactly early but it does get us there with only 2 parties before us. Our neighbors Garry (long hair) and Mike, short hair. (which causes no end of confusion during the day). And someone else ahead of them.
Looking at team one pad easily up the unprotected and easy first pitch (5.6) makes my palms sweat I see a ramp left to the station that looks super easy and go for it instead. Garry ends up rescuing his mike off that pitch when he tries to solo it and gets sketched out so I am glad I played safe. Time for shenanigans later. Finally Gary and Mike are at the 3rd belay station leaving the second pitch open for me and Mike B. I get all the leads as I have all the experience.Ten feet in im wondering if this is really smart. I'm now halfway to my first chance to protect and slab scares the hell out of me….then I’m there placing protective gear and rigging my anchor. Secure on belay finally, some air under me and the wind softly caressing. Garrys still at the stance ahead of us but its got a nice ledge and I decide to go for it. Yell for permission, he says hell ya come aboard. Easy climbing feeling better and better. I get there and toss my rope behind a boulder for protection, if I fall it my rope will catch behind the rock and lead all the force back to Mike who is still ready to catch me. Hell ya mountain time. Next two pitches are sweet looking long steep laybacking moves. This technique involves pulling sideways to the rock while pushing out with the feet and looks scary as hell. Good deep crack to place gear into for protection. As I wait I look down and see an older man, long white and red hair, skinny mountain arms with tattoos on the forearms charging up the rock, dancing and grinning. Hes got a piece in about every 20 meters. I feel self conscious for sketching on 5.6 d placing every 10 feet while his line looks to be 5.10 at least, to climb at that grade takes strenght and ability that doesn’t come naturally. But it is what it is right? He comes right up to my stance says hi .I say you’re an asshole and grin. He looks back, smiling and says “outshtanding” he says “two pieces “ with a question mark. I say "ground falls both of them." When a climber places a piece and climbs above it the fall length doubles every foot above that piece. 5 feet over and your looking at a 10 foot fall a piece at 30 feet up wont save you if your 60 feet in He grins and we both know theres no way he’d have fallen, every thing is outshtanding with a Sean Connery accent. When he tells his partner to shling a tree I have to get him to say it again. Shling? "Yes, shling the tree!" His name is axel and I immediately call him rose like the guns and roses singer.
I head into the steep dihedral with a little apprehension but the moves are so good its replaced with exhilaration immediately. Reach my stance, bring Mike up, swap gear back. Routine.
The next pitch seems to go on forever, I realize im drastically short of gear as I finally spot the next belay station 30 feet above me.Looks like easier climbing but the exposure gets to me. I second guess my skills and decide to build a gear station instead of running it out to the bolts that can be clipped to make a bombproof anchor . I bring Mike up so I can have my rack back instead of spread out below me in the crack. As Mike is coming up he stalls at a small cam I remember slotting a little too deep in a panic moment thinking that’s gonna be a bugger to get back, it is and twenty minutes later I tell him to give it up. It’s a spare anyway, now ive only got one. As I built my station I also managed to fumble my belay device sending it missile like down the face. Jeezus what next I think. Halfway up the climb I use a munter knot on my big locking carabiner to belay This is a friction knot that is notorious for twisting the rope making rope management super obnoxious.…drop any more gear and I’ll be hip belaying him, rope round the waist using my body for friction . I shudder at the thought and remember stories from old mountain hard men “ I caught a 100 foot whipper on a hip before. lost a lotta skin but I caught him” Jezzus I can see Axel now, hes telling me about boot belays and off his ice tool belays. Flexible. The mountains teach us to be flexible. For the briefest second I contemplate backing of but then it passes. ‘Made it this far eh, outstanding” Axels voice will be with me for months, maybe years now I realize. “Ballsh to the wall eh Mikey, make love to the rock, come on Joe shling the tree” I head out from my gear station with a full rack and realize it was all good, better safe though I think.
Next pitch easy peasy little sting at the top when I realize the last 50 feet of easy climbing has also been blank as hell no gear the wall steepens up ahead and I can see cracks I could place in but first I've got to get there over a wet steep bulge, chalky handprints to the left lead me and its easier than it looks. The crack systems reached and as I look for my placement I see a lost arrow buried in the wall. A steel pin shaped as it sounds with a ring of one end to clip to, god bless piton craft and the climber who left it for me. I clip it and move up to a big system, plug in the brand new three inch Metolius I bought yesterday Last piece, over the top! Lying in the bush gasping Axel sticks his head over a ledge above and yells at Mike “thatsh the way Mikey , balsh to the wall!" Mikes home, I’m home! Roll it up crack a cool crisp lucky lager start packing our gear other climbers reaching Broadway ledge look at us a little funny but wer’e all adults here. axel laughs and cheers’ us from high above as we start down Broadway ledge padding steeply towards home.
Beans with the leftover sausage and onions and garlic sautéed for dinner another apple bong blunt the last of the vodka go hang with Gary and mike for a little. They are impressed by our dealing up high “munter?” it’s a friction knot I explain and they smile knowing a little more now.
Sleep like the dead, wake up.Instant coffee, instant goatmeal Garry comes by and we put on more water for coffee. I roll it up, grinning like school kids we discuss our plans for the day then head out
Shannon falls! Spectacular back drop for Klahanie crack, 3 stars 5.7 grade,35 meters tall. After running out of gear yesterday I vow never again.If I need to place a lot I’ll rap back down and retrieve some but instead I place the same two cams, leapfroggy place and pull the lower one. Repeat this way. I end up with about 8 pieces in the climb well spaced and solid at the end mike is impressed as am I. I bring him up rather than getting lowered off. We rig to simurap one man down either side of the doubled up rope. Halfway down I show him how to throw a loop around his leg and step on the tail. Boom hand free brake take a picture. So he does we airballa high five big flailing miss its our gig this weekend total goombah style.
The suns not even on the wall yet and we’re down of another 2 stars worth of climbing, smoke bluffs next so much to see and do we decide to look for laughing crack 3 stars 5.7 hand and finger crack.
Some backtracking and we find it no one on it as we’re gearing up a couple show up all smiles. They can wait, no one seems in a rush here. I start up and she asks “ Are you doing the second pitch? I don’t think you can walk of this one” I guess we’re doing the second pitch I say. Dam got to do the homework better. At the top I look at the second half, or third more like it. An easy ramp to overhanging mossy doom crack oh my god oh well both at the same time. I shamelessly aid it. Place a piece and use it for a hold instead of the impossibly thin cracks using as many pieces in ten feet as I did on the whole 100 feet of the last climb. Sweating and shaking I make the top, run around a live tree and start hauling rope till I've got Mike on belay, hes scared and I have to explain to him not to pull the gear till hes past it, use it for your holds. Top out into big moss covered rolling slabs and take our shoes off, roll it up and relax. Adventuresome flavor has been tossed around a lot this weekend.
Bare foot we traipse around the smoke bluff trails till I spot our next crime, “Pixie corner. 5.8, 2 stars”
Proceed to kill it! The aussie and his girlfriend show up and express an interest, we’re almost done and say so. I find myself eyeballing the line next to it, 5.10b, short with good gear, start talking myself into it then out again when the aussie pipes up "Do it mate, its got good gear."
Tie your shoes up this time. I say and then do. Ive gone up everything so far wearing slippers pretty much. Fear sweats very real now. 5 minutes later I am above my last possible piece, way off line stemming desperately for a hold way to dirty to be mine. The aussie can tell I'm fading and shouts Go for it, throw your leg up! Better to to die trying mate!"  Hes right and I do. I commit and almost have the mantle over when my hand blows and I go for a full blown whipper, 6 feet over my piece, 12 feet till I'm caught. Then 5-6 more feet of rope stretch, by the time I stop moving Im sitting on the block at the bottom of the climb. A little kiss of rock on my forehead and ankle, worst hurt is my left teste. It caught under my leg loop as I went. Hoots and hollers, climbers around the corner come to see.
A couple minutes and a Dobie later, looking at the line the aussie says he’d like to try . I say the gears good be my guest. And pull my rope. Hes a way better climber and doesn’t go nearly so haywire when he falls but he does fall 3 times before he pulls the top move, gracious he sets up a top anchor and offers a run at it on top rope. It's like being on a pulley system, you can't fall more than a couple feet ever. I jump on and proceed to kill it after seeing him go through the moves. Mike next, he doesn’t have the strength but with some tension and a lot of talk he also pulls it.
We wander aimlessly for a bit as if looking for more to climb but then we realize we’re done. Back to the car,, out to the lake, sit and soak our feet. Drink the last couple beers and leave done and done.
On the bus now headed for Hope, sore and stiff and cant quit grinning. Raspberry on my forehead, gonna be a long haul home I’m hitching outa Hope but well worth the effort. Mike will never forget this shit and neither will I.
Home finally slept in a hayfiel bout 20 km. from home. Woke to rain and and a half full lucky I didn’t finish before bed. The first ride I get says "Hey arent you joe quin?"  And then takes me straight home, Hes a roomate of a heavily tattooed young fellow I've adventured with before..small world eh?