thirteen, eh!

A big day today. James swam unassisted for the first time and I climbed my first 5.13. Five year olds are not strong at self-analysis so I can't cast much light on the aquatic feat. But unsurprisingly I have quite a lot to say about the climb. Maybe I should kick off with the headline items and stats:

• the route is Just Can't Do It at the Forgotten Wall at Chek
• it was graded 5.13a/b in the previous "Squamish Select" guide but now gets 5.13a
• this is equivalent to french 7c+
• there are seventeen entries for the route on 8a.nu, of which none suggest the route is "soft for the grade" and one suggests french 8a
• length is about 25m with nine bolts
• the route overhangs about 10° for the first 18m
• the style is crimpy endurance

I am indebted to my frequent partner Kay for suggesting the route as a project and then continuing to support my attempts after she discovered it was too reach-dependent for her. It was the focus of eight days at the cliff, starting in early April. It seemed to be too physically-crushing to cover the whole length of the route more than twice in one day, so initial progress in working the moves was slow. I tried my first redpoint attempt on day five, but it took six further attempts to send. On day six I slipped on a low move but managed to hang on to fail higher. When I got down I realised I had pulled something in my upper left arm, perhaps the deltoid? All the subsequent attempts have involved naproxen taken the night before to numb the pain. Time will tell how foolish that was!

Anyone who has got involved in a multi-day siege at their limit will know that stress can become hard to manage. For whatever reason my brain often exaggerates the significance of success until it becomes visualised as an inflection point in life as a whole; correspondingly continued failure casts a big existential shadow. Currently that mindset does have some foundation: I did quit work and relocate halfway around the world to become better at climbing, so doing something at this level was really needed as justification. Thankfully I now have that!

I don't think I am in a hurry to try anything harder soon. Just Can't Do It is two grades beyond my previous best lead so there's plenty of backfilling in the 5.12 range to be done; easier trad classics to be enjoyed too.

Here are some rather crap photos. It is a tough route to capture without abseiling in from above (there were no volunteers ...) as there are trees blocking the view on most aspects. These photos are front on to the wall and so show none of the steepness.

Getting set for the technical crux, a boulder problem that is probably in the V4-V6 range. The next three hand holds are a three finger single-pad crimp, a three finger half-pad crimp and another three finger single-pad crimp best taken with back3, from which bolt 3 is clipped. 

I specifically trained front3 and back3 half-crimps on my fingerboard to do these moves. Not sure if it was really necessary but I think it probably sped up the process of getting the route done.

The next three moves centre upon the sidepull I have with my left hand: first gaining it with a long reach, then deadpointing twice in succession to single-pad side edges. The foot sequence is really critical here. 

The move shown is where a foot popped and I strained my upper left arm. 

Above this is the most aesthetic move on the route, a step through to the outside edge of the left foot whilst laybacking the upper side edge and reaching for a slopey dish. The dish can then only be held by a subtle additional shift of the body rightwards. Over time I got progressively more confident on this move and I think made some major unintended gains in core strength. 

The "rest" at bolt 5, on two slanting flat holds. Up to this point I couldn't find anywhere that I could take a hand off to shake for more than a second or so. I never fully decided whether this was really a rest or not; in fact on my first redpoint attempt I fell off whilst trying to hold it! On my successful attempt I only stopped here for about five breaths.

The moves through bolt 6 where I fell multiple times. The climbing here is not hard but fatigue was extreme for me. 

The last part of the route is a fun slab with some delicate moves. Fortunately it is possible to find hands-off rests throughout that section.

spring

There's no avoiding the cliché: this blog is emerging from a long hibernation to greet the spring. February and March were not exactly event-free but I found it hard to summon the enthusiasm to write, especially as the novelty of winter faded and a sense of "when will this end?" set in. As it turned out, much like the end of the summer, the end of winter was abrupt and quite binary. The clouds and rain cleared in the fourth week of March then the sun shone every day for a fortnight. Daytime temperatures rose by about ten degrees. Shockingly I found I was climbing outside almost every day; which I had been told would not be possible until May. Very recently the rains have resumed but more in a spring-style "make stuff grow" than a winter-style "stifle all life".

The major highlight since I last wrote has been Leo and I's tentative snowboarding trips into the backcountry. Several people have helped us with advice, loans of equipment and company, especially BobJ and AndyR; for which we are very grateful. Nothing we did went beyond first baby steps nor merits a long description but here is a simple edit of Leo's GoPro footage of our best day, riding the gentle just-out-of-bounds Flute back bowl at Whistler.

James has meanwhile mastered a no-turns kamikaze variant of skiing with which he seems satisfied (or at least: he reckons he is done with lessons!). He says he wants to snowboard instead next winter, when he turns six. That seems to be regarded as about the earliest possible age for kids to learn. It will be interesting to see if he is up to it ...

There's no doubt that it would be tough to stay sane through a winter in Squamish without wanting to engage in snow sports. When it rains almost every day, being genuinely pleased that "if it's raining down here it must be snowing up there" is important. Unfortunately these sports are pricey! I have spent more on apparently-modest objects like transceivers, shovels and snow probes in a few purchases than on climbing gear for many years. And the marginal cost of using resort lifts - always Whistler in our case, 30 minutes north - is infinitely high relative to going climbing; in several decades I have only paid for access to rock a couple of times!

Only one major news item in Squamish has interested me recently: that the old Woodfibre pulp mill site on Howe Sound, a few km from Squamish port, has been bought with the intention of opening an LNG export facility. To the limited extent I can judge, local sentiment is quite supportive, anticipating new jobs and tax revenue, but I expect environmental opposition will become very significant before any approval is given. Someone who knows the industry better than me also says that the economics of that site and its gas supply are tenuous. Anyway, I hope to understand that story better in due course.

My next post will probably be a return to climbing-blather. I have a new project ...

SGI update #1

I concocted the semi-humourous idea of maintaining a "Squamish Gentrification Index" at the beginning of the year. If it has any serious purpose at all, it as a context to frame comments about the evolution of Squamish - a topic that really interests me. Anyway, here is my first update, with items tackled in order of declining significance (in my opinion, obviously).

An independent high school in Squamish has been on the cards for some time. The rationale is pretty straightforward: there is no alternative to state education above grade 7 in the Sea-to-Sky corridor (yes, including affluent Whistler); land for big projects is more readily available in Squamish than elsewhere; fairly or unfairly the single Squamish state high school is very poorly rated (240th/280 in BC). This project took an important step forward in January with the appointment of a head-teacher. The school then held an open meeting last week at Quest University, aimed at prospective parents, where it was confirmed that they will launch in September this year. The meeting was busy, which must be encouraging for the school, with much earnest questioning after the presentations. Actually a mischievous observer of local affairs told me later that he had "not realised there were so many people like that in Squamish"! ie neat, serious, aspirational ... bourgeois, if you are a marxist.

I am aware that not everyone thinks private schools are a healthy phenomena but in the narrow context of economic development this news is an unequivocal positive for the town. Low perceived school-quality has long been one of the major deterrents for people considering a move here. After conversation with the SGI's advisor, I am assigning a couple of positive points to the index from this news with more to come when (if?) the school actually opens.

Meanwhile, it seems movies are not a money maker in Squamish. The one cinema closed last year, citing low attendance and the high cost of shifting to digital projection, then more recently a local video rental store closed. The shuttered movie theatre is in a reasonable location in the Garibaldi strip mall, which has some of Squamish's newest and least-awful retail architecture. Two weeks ago there was a news report that the vacant site is being taken by Dollarama, a "value" store chain that - despite its name, I have researched this - sells stuff for more than a dollar. Squamish has a couple of similar stores already, so superficially this seems disappointing: apparent confirmation that this is a low-rent town. However my advisor suggests not, or, at least, that the major harm was done several years ago when Squamish accepted a Walmart. So I am treating this as a neutral development. And, of course, ironically, during my research at a Dollarama store in Richmond I ended up making a purchase: a child-sized fleece neck muff, perfect for James for skiing. Maybe I need gentrifying?

Elsewhere the town council is futzing about with a revitalisation strategy for the Downtown district, which has been in long structural decline due to poor links to the town's main artery, the 99 highway, and the exit - welcome, in my opinion - of various industrial operations that used to base there. My guess is the council's initiative will do nothing except enrich a few consultants. As far as I can see, only expensive spending on a better connection to the highway would really help, and, as a local tax payer, I can't see the benefit. Better that the town continues reassembling itself around the highway. I think the Downtown area may eventually "work" as a low-rent magnet for artists and creative businesses, and maybe high-density residential deveopment; but market forces can resolve that more efficiently than town councillors. Anyway: another neutral bit of news.

In summary, the SGI index is now 102, up a massive 2% in six weeks ... a blistering 19% annualised!

big snow

Alpha from just above our house (300mm lens, 50% desaturated)

Garibaldi from near the Toyota dealership! (300mm lens, 50% desaturated, photoshopped sky)

Definitely feeling in the thick of winter lately. Last week saw 48cm of new snow at Whistler in 24 hours - Leo and I were there snowboarding during and after - also bringing power outages and almost impassable conditions on the final road leading up to our house. Then the skies cleared completely for several days. I never get bored of looking at the mountains in these conditions. The combination of frosted treetops, soft white ridge-lines and blueness is incredibly uplifting. 

In other news the cast is off and I am climbing again tentatively. I had a brief scare when the radiologist suspected I had an untreated scaphoid fracture but a CT scan in Whistler showed this to be false. Both wrists are not quite right but are responding well to being used again. 

Though looking through to the climbing season should be the theme right now, I (and Leo) are experiencing some snowboard obsessing, especially after becoming probably the last people on the planet to watch The Art of Flight. I have no chance of ever executing the moves these big mountain riders pull off, but even a fleetingly similar moment in some good powder would be amazing. Worryingly it is even making me ponder finding another yuppie job to be able to afford it. Damn you, Curt Morgan.

the Squamish Gentrification Index

This will probably land me in trouble. I am inaugurating the Squamish Gentrification Index at a value of 100 as of 1st Jan 2013. The plan is that I will survey the local news and subjectively assign positive or negative increments based on my prejudice as to whether that news moves the town forwards or backwards.

Some examples:

• (from last year) yet another dollar shop in downtown, surely a marginal negative, let's say: -1.
• (hypothetical) announcement of a commuter train to Vancouver - not wholly impossible, there is a track - an off-the-charts positive: +200. 
• (from last year) eight new off-leash dog parks, neutral, but, if accompanied by strict enforcement of on-leash rules in the rest of town, definitely a positive: +2. 
• (hypothetical) a speedway track, strong negative: -10
• (from last year) the Farmers Market continuing through the winter: +2 
• (hypothetical) the charming casino on First Nation land at the entrance to town going bankrupt, then being abandoned to gather graffiti like their Taco Bell on the other side of the road: -5

Etcetera. Basically I will be making it up as I go along.

I am grateful to my Seattle friends, the Fishers, for some cursory brainstorming on this foolish idea.

the right number of climbing shoes?

With age comes an increased likelihood that you will be buying your own Christmas present. Good thing or bad thing? I can argue it both ways. Whichever, on 25th December 2012 I "received" a pair of

La Sportiva Muiras; a generic-looking yellow and black climbing shoe. A dispassionate observer might question why I needed another pair, given that I already own several, and - like most people - only have two feet? 

For context, the image above shows my current collection. It includes the new Muiras but excludes several decaying pairs that I recently threw out. Even if the six pairs in kids sizes are ignored, plus the historic-interest-only 1980s Czech modified carpet slippers (a gift put to temporary use thanks to delayed luggage on a London-Prague flight), there remain eight pairs requiring justification.

Whilst pondering this, it struck me that I have always owned lots of climbing shoes, and that the main change has been increased diversity, not a profound shift in quantity. When I started climbing (I was very very young - really!) there was just one manufacturer making just one shoe - or more accurately - one boot: the "EB". Being canvas and a pretty basic construction they wore out fast but never quite expired ... so it was typical to accumulate several pairs, distinguished only by their position on the new-to-knackered spectrum.

Choice only became an issue in 1984 when the Boreal Firé appeared. For a climbing-fixated teenager this was impossibly exciting. Their practical advantage was greater stickiness, thanks to the Spanish maker's softer rubber, but the uppers were also not canvas but a funkier suede. As Firés were expensive and often out of stock, I has split loyalties for a while, but eventually became monogamous with Boreal. 

The number of climbing footwear manufacturers and models grew gently from then, but I didn't abandon Firés until Asolo introduced the Runout, in - I think - 1989 or 1990. The Runout was a genuinely radical design, being the first low-profile climbing shoe rather than climbing boot. Ankles could finally be flexed and toes pointed accurately, though at the expense of calf support and ankle protection. (Climbing "boots" didn't surface again for a couple of decades but are now a firmly re-invented niche. These "high-tops", for example). I bought a ton of Runouts, but clearly not enough to satisfy Asolo, who dropped out of the climbing shoe market after just a couple of years. 

The natural next purchase after Runouts disappeared, and the start of a love affair that has continued to this day, was the classic La Sportiva Mythos. The Mythos is a simple unlined suede shoe that relies only on a clever lacing system to maintain toes and heels in position. It fitted my feet really well and was superbly comfortable after a few sessions, even if bought very tight. To their credit La Sportiva have changed nothing but the colour - purple to beige - over twenty years.

A year or two after the Mythos was introduced La Sportiva introduced a radically "bent" version: the Mirage. I bought some but couldn't make them work for me. In fact I don't think I ever wore them on an outdoor climb. Retrospectively I realise that this was the moment when I lost pace with cutting-edge climbing shoe design. Worse, I stuck with the Mythos unquestioningly for more than a decade. The Mirage turned out to be the forerunner of asymmetry in climbing shoes - using sole shape to concentrate power in the toes. Other trends that passed me by included aggressive heel designs to hold the toes more firmly in place, low-stretch uppers, stiffened sole inserts for better edging and yet more innovation in sticky rubber.  

I am greatly puzzled by this phenomenon now, as I think it held back my climbing performance significantly. Though the start of this period was (just) pre-internet when information exchange wasn't as frenzied as it is now, I still spent plenty of time in climbing shops and at indoor walls, visited trendy "hard" crags (Rifle! Siurana! Ceuse!) and subscribed to climbing magazines full of shoe reviews, so definitely had exposure to the new shoes entering the market. And I wasn't short of money to experiment. Clearly the comfort of the Mythos was a factor. I think I also had a muddle-headed notion that the sensitivity and "feel" of a well broken-in soft shoe trumped everything else. Worryingly I think I might also have "given up" as a climber at some sub-conscious level. It is telling that my Mythos era coincided with the acquisition of steady employment, a spouse, a child and other conventional doings of adulthood. 

My first awareness that I needed to reconsider my shoes came as recently as summer 2005, when I first climbed at Squamish. My partner was Andy Donson, an old friend from university, man of accomplishment and "climber's climber". He observed me sliding off granite nubbins in my Mythos and noted authoritatively that he now only wore stiff shoes as they were "better on everything except slabs, but actually better on slabs too". By then I had moved to the UAE and was spending a lot of time struggling to stand on tiny edges on exfoliating desert limestone, so a lightbulb did go off in my head. At that time the most common performance shoe was the 5.10 Anasazi lace-ups or "Pinks". They incorporated almost all the design elements I had been ignoring for years: asymmetry (though not "downturn"), stiff sole insets and a very aggressive heel. I tried to convince myself to buy a pair but the fit to my feet seemed hopeless, with obvious bagginess in some places yet much pain where the heel bit the ankle.

A year or so later on another summer vacation I came across a pair of Pinks in the remainder bin in MEC in Vancouver. They were half a size tighter than seemed reasonable but so cheap that it seemed almost indecent not to take them home. Plus the model was being discontinued, so it was my last chance to get some. Though they stayed too painful to use often, I realised rapidly and with some embarrassment that they were a quantum leap superior to my usual shoes. The rational next purchase was a half-size larger pair of "Whites", 5.10's replacement for the Pinks. These have now been my go-to shoes for harder routes for several years. (I still use Mythos for multi-pitch routes, especially on granite, and some ultra-comfortable though - frankly - crap Red Chillis for warming up.)

On a whim I augmented my Whites with another 5.10 shoe, the 5X, which I also like very much though primarily use for indoor climbing. This took 5.10 to dominance in my shoe collection, at least in the "mine" (I also own a lot of kids shoes) and "actively-used" categories.

Approaching this Christmas I thought it might be time for another pair of Whites, but found myself considering another classic performance shoe, the Muira, instead. Over the last two years I have been climbing with several good climbers who swear by them, from gurus like Neil Gresham, who I crossed paths with in Oman and then Kalymnos in 2011, to my occasional local Squamish partner, Stewart. In March this year I also had the near-mystical experience of placing my feet briefly in a pair of the world's best climber's Muiras, that had found their way to a Czech guy in Dubai; the next day brought one of my best ever first-ascents (though back in the Whites!). Muiras have more of a downturn sole than the Whites, so may be better on steeper routes. Unquestionably they also fit me more accurately with no dead space. It seems generally I have a La Sportiva shaped foot. Another option from the cutting edge would have been the La Sportiva Solution, an ultra-downturned bouldering shoe with a gimmicky closure system, but my feet say firmly "no".

In summary then, I now have eight shoes in active use, as a legacy of these evolving decisions. The Whites and Miuras will be competing for my loyalty on harder sport routes - I will report back - the too-tight Pinks available on special occasions, Mythos of various sizes and exhaustion to be brought out for long granite, whilst the 5Xs and Red Chillis will live in my gym bag. All quite logical.

Except of course that it isn't and the obvious truth is that I just like to collect climbing shoes. But as compulsive disorders go, rock shoe accumulation is pretty harmless and not even especially expensive: I guess all my shoes could be bought for less than the price of a moderately good AT ski setup and a fraction of the price of a decent mountain bike. So I think I can be forgiven.

christmas break

There is no doubt winter is here now. The snow-line is well established down to about 500m and flurries have become common even at sea level in Squamish. Whistler has metres of snow and is fully-open.

The last few weeks have mostly been grey but just occasionally the sky clears. Not for long enough to dry the rock sufficiently to climb, as was possible in November, but enough to visit cliffs and consider projects for next year. Last week I spent two sessions abseiling down lines at the Pleasuredome at Chek. This week I turned my attention to Pet Wall at Murrin Park.

There's decent potential for getting in trouble on wet cliffs out of season. The Pleasuredome had sodden moss on a long convex face above the routes, making access quite awkward and scary. But I know the terrain above Pet reasonably well, so didn't expect any drama there. I was right so far as the actual abseiling going fine but whilst leaving the clifftop afterwards I stopped to check email on my phone, got irritated by a specific message, lost concentration for a moment, slipped on some bare granite, landed badly ... and was left with a stiff, painful and swelling left wrist.

Needless to say I felt very stupid and frustrated. I tried denial for 24 hours but, after a rough night with much ice'ing and Voltaren gel, sent myself to Squamish hospital for a proper check up.

This was my first real encounter with Canadian healthcare, so an interesting experience. There are many similarities in the structure of the Canadian system to the UK's NHS but I hoped I would also find differences. Public sector workers in Britain - the south-east, anyway - are notoriously grumpy, which, rightly and wrongly, creates an expectation that nothing is going to be done well. I assume the main cause is lower salaries compared to the private sector, coupled with a high cost of living that overwhelms other quality of life factors. I had theorised that morale in public service in BC would be higher, as most people live pretty well regardless of income, and it certainly felt so on this first encounter. Squamish hospital is simultaneously friendly but efficient, from doctors right through to the ER receptionists and security. I ended up making two visits: x-rayed and splinted, then given a permanent cast the next day.

The injury is very generic: a chipped triquetrum, the second most common type of wrist damage. There was a choice of cast colour. I went for black. It is pleasingly sinister, with a vaguely Darth Vader feel (lately James and I have been working through the Star Wars movies).

I also opted for a goretex waterproof liner (at extra cost ...). Whilst assembling the cast the doctor remarked that "if you were a teenager likely to jump straight back on your skateboard I'd give you a double wrap of the fibreglass". I sheepishly confessed that I still had in mind some snowboarding during Leo's holidays and that perhaps a double-wrap was appropriate. She gave me a disapproving look but obliged. 

The cast will be on for 5-6 weeks, reviewed at another x-ray just after Christmas. Annoyingly this forced absence from climbing training will probably erase all the strength gains I have made in the last couple of months. I had also become mildly obsessed with a hard-ish (V7?) problem at the Hive which will probably have been re-set by the next time I am able to visit. Anyway, no-one to blame but myself. Concentration lapses worry me ... maybe this was an important wake-up call? Need to stay focused!