in which we finally talk about climbing

James watching me on Coat and Tails  © Read Macadam, 2012

So three weeks after arriving in Squamish I finally got out climbing.

Actually this is not true, but it feels like it. Friends like Bob and Andy have dragged me out on the rock on several occasions. But today was the first time that I have climbed without feeling hurried or stressed and really been focused on what I was doing.

Today's objective was completing Coat and Tails, a problem at the obscure Powerline Boulders. I took an interest in this area as it is close to home and is advertised as having flat landings. I first visited with Read Macadam a few days ago. I know Read from the UAE/ Oman climbing scene, where he has unarguably held the title of strongest "local" for some years, and has done an excellent job of burning off visiting superstars. He is originally from Vancouver - hence over here on vacation - and was in the Canadian bouldering team in his youth. Unfortunately he has an arm fracture from an MTB accident (reaffirmation for me of my general principle of avoiding all other sports apart from climbing ...) so nobly looked after James and took photos. Coat and Tails didn't yield then, but looked possible for me as it is a rare instance of a Squamish problem entirely on real holds rather than slopey nothings.

Since then I have done a few finger-strengthening sessions on my Wedge, a clever portable training tool invented by my UK business partner Simon. He had handed me a prototype when in England. At less than one kg it was just about smuggle'able into our Canada baggage and then easily installed from a beam in the space under our garage.

The Wedge in Simon's Sheffield training laboratory, sorry, "office"

Climbing is of course all about grades (*). Coat and Tails is graded V5, a level which tiny Japanese girls in New York would barely bother with as a warm-up, but one that I have never managed at Squamish. (It is actually given V6 in some sources.) It took about an hour of work today and some significant bouts of trying-hard. Fingers were definitely working better than on the previous visit. All climbing is ridiculous but sit-start boulder problems especially so. Non-climbers may be baffled as to why anyone would bother with all of the following when you can reach the finishing hold on tip-toes from the ground:

- sit on arse in the mud under a two metre wide flat ceiling
- yard outwards from a big loose undercut flake to a decent hold at the lip
- hold a faux-front-lever whilst finger traversing half a metre leftwards to painful crimps
- heel hook right foot in ungainly fashion on that decent hold
- pull in hard on the heel whilst slapping up with right hand to a diagonal edge [fall off here multiple times]
- slap again with right hand to semi-pinch/ semi-side-pull a few cm higher [fall off here multiple times too]
- subtly modify right foot from heel hooking to pushing on small knob one cm to left
- throw heroically for giant finishing jug with left hand
- make a pointless half-move higher into the moss then declare victory
- boldly jump two metres back to the ground

Read suggested that all this nonsense could be reduced down to two dynamic moves and I have no reason to doubt him. But I am old and unbouncy.

Psyched! What's next?


* obviously I am joking: climbing is about good company, the joy of being outdoors and, er, stuff like that.