Part 1 is here.
Over the 2018/ 2019 winter my pulley injury healed up completely, though the full process took six months. Meanwhile Leo's progression through the grades was accelerating, not least as he was pretty much living in the Hive bouldering gym in Vancouver during his first year at UBC. He wanted to climb 5.12 as soon as possible. I recommended Flingus Cling at Pet Wall to him as I knew it was often dry and climbable on bluebird winter days, and indeed, his redpoint came in January! I jokingly suggested that he might as well move straight on to 5.13 and within a few months he had ticked off Just Can’t Do It, a popular 5.13a at Chek, without bothering to climb any other 5.12's; a shockingly steep improvement trajectory.
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| Leo redpointing Flingus Cling in January 2019 |
In the spring I began spending much more time climbing with Tyrone. A great privilege as he has deep roots in Squamish sport climbing and bouldering and knows more about the Chek area than anyone else. We both had unfinished business at the Monastery and the Hermitage. In my case: Pain Box, which had haunted my dreams all winter, and The Contrarian, a slightly easier but very elegant line.
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| Anxious signage under the Pain Box project, winter 2018/19 |
Pain Box has two contrasting halves: a very steep and burly traverse with almost no footholds that leads to a rest in the existing route Puzzle Box then a less steep but complicated sequence of crimpy moves including two low-percentage (for me, anyway) deadpoints near the top. The challenge felt substantially mental as I never felt solid on the opening sequence so could not be confident that any redpoint attempt would get me through the first half, yet I always knew the main difficulties were above. This combination made it stressful to even start an attempt.
On my successful redpoint in April I spent a long time at the rest trying to psyche up for the upper part. James had just completed an amazing snowboarding season culminating in second place in his age group in an all-western Canada event held on the huge jump features of Calgary’s Winter Olympic Park. Competitive events of that kind don’t allow any of the “I am not feeling it today” excuses that are common in redpointing and I was in awe of James’ ability to perform on demand. At the rest, I tried to “channel” James, imagining myself committing to a slopestyle run, and remarkably it worked.
I suggested 5.13a for Pain Box, given that it felt to be the hardest thing I had ever climbed and that I had ticked off benchmark 5.13a routes like Pushers and Darkness at Noon in the preceding couple of years. In my sendage.com write up I predicted that some sandbag grades would be offered, which they were, but that the thirteen grade would stick in the long run. So far that seems to be true - perhaps it helps that it is given 5.13a in the most recent Squamish Select? - and it seems significant that the route sees very few ascents despite being at a cliff very popular with people pushing their grade around that level. If it were a soft-touch 5.13a there should surely be queues underneath?
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| Scott Milton working Pain Box, summer 2020 |
Free from first ascent projects (the Contrarian, now a sought-after 5.12c, went down shortly after), but still spending a lot of time at the Monastery to belay Ty, I began playing on Chris H’s route Separation Anxiety, at that time the hardest route there with a tentative 5.13c grade. I had belayed several of Chris’ attempts before his first ascent so felt some connection. The route is a short punchy power endurance exercise with no easy moves, an abrupt diagonal'ing crux at mid-height and a fluffable dynamic finish. The standard beta involves a brutal reach out to a blunt arete which felt impossible for my left shoulder, which still has limited mobility following an impingement in 2011. However on my fourth session I discovered new beta, skipping the sideways move in favour of an upwards lurch to small crimps above, which the standard beta used only for feet.
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| Leo looking strong through the Separation Anxiety crux |
Around this time Leo, on his first university vacation, also began taking an interest, impressively managing all the moves including the standard beta on his first session. Over the summer we trekked up there at least once each week, gradually grinding the route into submission. For some reason I became especially stuck on a rightwards move near the top that no-one else found cruxy, indeed our flexible friend Tony seemed to be able to rest halfway through it! Again I felt poor shoulder mobility to be the key issue but fading fingers also did not help.
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| Spot the dysfunctional shoulder ... My midway crux on Separation Anxiety |
On my twelfth session, I was there with Leo and his friend Nic, when Leo abruptly sent, with little fuss. I was aware how neat it would be if we could both climb our first 5.13c on the same day on the same route and began to feel immense pressure. Normally I would only try the redpoint three times in a session but this time rolled the dice on a fourth try. I tried changing one thing: shaking a couple of times quickly off a sidepull before entering the shouldery rightwards section. To my surprise this worked and thankfully I then managed to stick the final throw - my first time trying that section on redpoint.
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| Double-send day |
In the last months of 2019 my interest shifted from the Monastery to projects elsewhere. At the Hermitage Chris and I had dismissed the possibility of a route on its fantastic but blank “Action Directe” style roof without actually looking closely. One misty day in September I did investigate more thoroughly and found that a hairline break in the middle of the roof actually held a small loose block. I knocked it off - shooting some video before and after in case of any accusations of chipping! - uncovering a positive edge. Further investigation uncovered a cool sequence of holds heading rightwards from above the roof. Unfortunately linking those two features looked hard: a long dyno followed immediately by another powerful boulder problem.
Up to that point all the Hermitage routes had been given thematic names, referencing religious retreat or social isolation. I pre-named the project “Patience, Grasshopper” in honour of the cheesy “Kung Fu” TV series that I enjoyed in my youth. The phrase occurs in flashbacks when an elderly shaolin monk is urging his apprentice to be less hasty; I guess I had Leo somewhat in mind. After bolting the line I made a few attempts but put the project on hold for the winter resolving to train specifically for the dyno.
Back at Electric Avenue I had been aware for some time of a “last great line”, on the blankest feature of the cliff, an almost vertical face just left of Leo’s “Torii Gate”. The prospective line was in two halves. The bottom part was no problem: a ~5.10+ face to a break and complete rest on the arete. The top part was a mystery: a shuffle back across from the arete attempting to crimp a hairline seam while not sliding off terrible smears, then a short vertical section with no obvious holds at all. I decided to scrub and bolt it anyway, then began attempts on it when temperatures began to fall in late September. Fortunately Ty was still available as a willing belayer and I also managed to lure Chris out once to look at it as well. Helpfully Chris and Ty found a plausible sequence for the very last move, involving a very strenuous reach off a poor gaston, but they could not do the seam section - which conversely I had reasonably dialled.
In mid October I took time away from Chek to climb on the steep limestone at Horne Lake. I also trained on an approximate replica of the gaston move in my garage. On my return I tried the project again and was excited to find that I had become strong enough to do the move from the gaston, but could not quite manage a tenuous stand-up move on terrible feet to reach the gaston itself. This became a major new frustration until I tried a very subtly different foot sequence and the move was unlocked. I sent on my next try.
Back at Electric Avenue I had been aware for some time of a “last great line”, on the blankest feature of the cliff, an almost vertical face just left of Leo’s “Torii Gate”. The prospective line was in two halves. The bottom part was no problem: a ~5.10+ face to a break and complete rest on the arete. The top part was a mystery: a shuffle back across from the arete attempting to crimp a hairline seam while not sliding off terrible smears, then a short vertical section with no obvious holds at all. I decided to scrub and bolt it anyway, then began attempts on it when temperatures began to fall in late September. Fortunately Ty was still available as a willing belayer and I also managed to lure Chris out once to look at it as well. Helpfully Chris and Ty found a plausible sequence for the very last move, involving a very strenuous reach off a poor gaston, but they could not do the seam section - which conversely I had reasonably dialled.
In mid October I took time away from Chek to climb on the steep limestone at Horne Lake. I also trained on an approximate replica of the gaston move in my garage. On my return I tried the project again and was excited to find that I had become strong enough to do the move from the gaston, but could not quite manage a tenuous stand-up move on terrible feet to reach the gaston itself. This became a major new frustration until I tried a very subtly different foot sequence and the move was unlocked. I sent on my next try.
Two final challenges still remained: a name and a grade. I wanted something that would convey the exceptional (for me) tenuousness of the climb. While googling some phrases I stumbled over the Sanskrit word “Aparigraha” from the Jain religion, which means non-attachment or non-possession. The term has been co-opted by the yoga industry too; denouncing materialism being fashionable for folk in pricey Lululemon pants. Ty asked me if I had a name straight after my send and I announced rather too loudly that I was considering "Aparigraha" which - I added - "is some yoga bullshit”. Almost immediately I suffered a fierce look from a woman belaying on a nearby route. She wryly pointed out that she was a yoga teacher …
As to the grade, Chris assured me that the top crux was only about V3 and we both agreed that, although the slab moves past the seam were heinous for us, the true slab magicians of Squamish might not be slowed down by it much at all. So, although for me it was one of the hardest climbs I have ever done, Aparigraha went in the guidebook at a modest 5.12b. However, two years on, it does not appear to have been repeated, despite being easily top-toped and located at what may now be the most popular sport climbing cliff in Canada. Hmmm.
Over the 2019/2020 winter James was in Whistler often as he had been invited into his snowboard club’s development team, which meant I was spending a lot of time there too. Helpfully the Whistler climbing gym, the Core, has a variable angle Tension Board. I set a dynamic problem on the board which was the approximate dimensions of the jump on Patience Grasshopper (yes, I took measuring tape up the route!) and tried it repeatedly, never actually sticking the move but unquestionably getting a little bouncier. As soon as the snow cleared at Chek in the early spring I went back to the Hermitage only to discover - predictably! - that I could cover the distance on the dyno but not latch the hold. Leo was finding it straightforward so I gifted him the project and he sent on his second redpoint attempt. For good measure he then led the crux double-dyno style. “Pleased for him” was my diary comment, possibly written with gritted teeth! A baton-passing moment.
Over the 2019/2020 winter James was in Whistler often as he had been invited into his snowboard club’s development team, which meant I was spending a lot of time there too. Helpfully the Whistler climbing gym, the Core, has a variable angle Tension Board. I set a dynamic problem on the board which was the approximate dimensions of the jump on Patience Grasshopper (yes, I took measuring tape up the route!) and tried it repeatedly, never actually sticking the move but unquestionably getting a little bouncier. As soon as the snow cleared at Chek in the early spring I went back to the Hermitage only to discover - predictably! - that I could cover the distance on the dyno but not latch the hold. Leo was finding it straightforward so I gifted him the project and he sent on his second redpoint attempt. For good measure he then led the crux double-dyno style. “Pleased for him” was my diary comment, possibly written with gritted teeth! A baton-passing moment.
EPILOGUE
In summer 2021 the prolific US climber Paige Claassen made the first female ascent of Squamish's iconic Dreamcatcher. I have been aware of Paige since 2013, when we had a long correspondence about UAE climbing, for an ambitious global climbing/ volunteering tour she was planning (she even bought my guidebook). After a modest brag about Dreamcatcher her Instagram account went quiet for a few days, presumably as she was taking some rest days. But her next IG story was a surprise: several images of a familiar-looking cliff with wildly-enthusiastic comments about great stone and brilliant routes. Of all the places in Squamish she could have visited after Dreamcatcher she had somehow found her way to the Hermitage and climbed The Contrarian and Patience Grasshopper!
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| Celebrity endorsement: Paige on The Contrarian |
