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| Highliner above the canyon |
Looking east from the talus ledges under the Monastery, many people notice a very steep white wall about a kilometre away. In late 2017 Chris H and I made two attempts to reach it, and in the process unintentionally learned a lot about the complex topography of the area.
One of the minor ironies of the Chek area is that none of the area’s names make much sense. “Chek” itself is an abbreviation of Cheakamus, but the Cheakamus river is several kilometres away and at a far lower altitude. The official name of the recreation site that encompasses Chek climbing is the “Chek Canyon” site. This superficially makes sense as there is a canyon running south from the main parking lot which becomes increasingly steep-sided and impressive beyond the Big Show cliffs. My “deathtrap trail” which links the Big Show and the Monastery contours up its west side. But I doubt that is the canyon for which the rec site is named; more likely the reference is to the big gorge carved by the Cheakamus River, between Daisy Lake and Paradise Valley, again some distance away and at lower altitude. The forest service road that passes through the rec site is the Conroy Creek FSR and some people therefore call the Chek area “Conroy”. But the Conroy Creek itself is well to the south of any of the established climbing areas. In fact the only time I have crossed the creek was during my second hike with Chris to find the white wall.
None of which is the focus of this blog post except that the canyon, which is probably not The Chek Canyon, is central to the story and therefore needs a name; I will just call it “the canyon”. Also that, while hiking back from the white wall, we had our first opportunity to see the whole of its west side. At the time I was mostly interested in the Hermitage cliff which we had just discovered but I also noticed a cliff of uncertain size up above the established Big Show area, which as far as I knew had never been explored. Strangely this discovery then sat in my head for two years. I never quite forgot about it but never generated the momentum to do anything about it either.
In early 2020 development of the Hermitage was coming to a close and I was spending more time working on the “deathtrap trail” which was the best approach to the Hermitage. I re-routed the first steep climb on that trail twice, seeking to avoid a large patch of scree which did not look like it would ever stabilise. One day in April, after a morning of that kind of work, I had some time to kill, so went for a short exploratory bushwhack from the top of the steep climb toward where I thought the mystery cliff might be. A tricky scramble out of a gully led me to a ledge system that slanted up above the Big Show. Almost immediately I could tell I had found something significant: the first wall I encountered was at least 25-30m tall, was both steep and featured and was also shockingly dry. And there were more large expanses of rock beyond.
The first step with many new cliffs is to clear the base area which in this case meant removing several small trees from the ledge system. Not for the first time I called in my good friend Luc, who in turn recruited his whole family (wife Keiko and sons Sean and Kyle) to help. As they seemed psyched on the cliff I asked whether they wanted to join in on the route development. Optimistically I pointed at a line at the far right end of the cliff which I guessed might be a “good 5.9 or 5.10” and they took the bait. Luc is primarily a mountain man who has raised his sons in the same tradition and it struck me that it might be entertaining to entangle them in a sport climbing project - this would prove correct.
Leo’s friend Nic also joined the crew at an early stage. Later my friend Ben W, and Danica, who I didn’t know but had just volunteered as moderator on a Facebook group that I had set up, adopted a line each. So we were nine, of which only I had bolted routes before. I hadn’t consciously intended to be a new routing mentor but it seemed more fun and more efficient to divide up the labour. I guess also at the back of my mind was a judgment that although the cliff had strong lines there were none that would be harder than 5.12, so there was no fame and glory at stake!
Opening new cliffs always seems to get a little messy in the final stage as the secret usually leaks before the “official” opening, leading to accusations of favouritism or worse. Having witnessed some especially dysfunctional examples of this, notably at The Monastery, I was keen to achieve the cleanest possible transition from “closed” to “open” status. I had a topo ready to release to the public from early 2021 but did not want to do so until Danica sent, which ended up being in May. So there were a couple of spring months when the secret was leaking out fast and ever more climbers showing up. I became anxious that someone might FA Danica’s route by mistake. Though it was clearly red-tagged to signify a “closed” project it was well-chalked, had quickdraws in place and looked pretty inviting. While it is easy to get emotive in these situations, developers need to remember that on public land everyone is entitled to be there and any “developer rights” we may perceive are conventions within the climbing community and have no legal substance whatsoever!
In the event, this awkward limbo period played out fine. Almost everyone seemed to love the cliff and the routes, and I received plenty of useful feedback to improve the topo. Only one incident occurred that was disappointing. A local (sorta-famous, Arc'teryx-sponsored) guide showed up with two bored, video-game-playing children and a feral dog, did not deign to speak with anyone already present, abandoned the entourage on the narrow exposed ledges unsupervised and then reappeared a while later swinging around on a rappel rope from the highliner bolts on uncleaned terrain well above the routes' anchors, endangering everyone below with potential rock fall. On being yelled at to understand their intention, the individual responded angrily that they “knew what they were doing” (quite evidently not true!) and were seeking out anchors to top-rope the cliff’s easiest route (which was not in fact accessible from their rappel, as I could have explained). While both bored children failed to climb the 5.11 which had been erroneously equipped, the feral dog enjoyed running around on top of other climbers’ flaked ropes. I don’t think I was alone in being relieved when this group left. Again, they were as entitled as anyone else to be there, but having the humility to actually consult with the developer before questing around above the cliff would have made for a better and safer day for everyone.
I should qualify that anecdote by saying that most guides in the Sea to Sky area don't behave arrogantly and often give back to the community through new route development and other voluntary work. This individual's behaviour that day was an outlier.
In June I released my topo “New Climbs off the Deathtrap", which also opened the lid on the Hermitage for the first time as well as Echo Beach. Several of the Echo Beach routes became instantly popular, especially Nic’s "Chicken Joe", 5.11a, and my "Wave Machine", 5.12b, the first route that I bolted on the cliff. At the time of writing, both of these long endurance routes had more than fifty logged ascents at sendage.com. Which is unprecedented for routes in their first year being open, as far as I know.
As this seven year period of route development began to draw to a close (I am aware of some other possibilities but will leave them for others) my interest started to drift away from climbing to other issues in the area. Spending time at the Hermitage and Echo Beach had increased my awareness that “the canyon” is home to an impressive collection of old-growth trees, especially some glorious tall Douglas Firs. The full extent of this untouched ecosystem - continuous forest of one square kilometre or more - is much more apparent from those cliffs (and the trail between them) than anywhere else at Chek. The largest of the trees are in the riparian area in the canyon base. There are at least ten trees of ~two metres diameter or larger, including one easily-visited example just behind the Well of Souls boulders. Firs of this size are around 400-500 years old.
Given that the Conroy Creek FSR area has a long history of logging it is surprising that such a large area has been spared. The most likely reason is that the canyon’s hostile terrain - large talus at one end, narrow at the other, steep slopes in between - has been a deterrent. The trees do not have any legal protection. In 2015, BC Timber Sales proposed a new road along the canyon base, which would have created easier access to the old growth zone and likely caused the immediate logging of the biggest trees, as they grow on the road’s intended route. The road proposal did not move forward but could still reappear at a future date.
In fall 2020, as a mechanism to raise awareness and get some informed opinion, I nominated two of the largest trees to UBC's BC Big Tree Registry. This led to a visit from Ira Sutherland, chair of the committee maintaining that registry, and his friends, armed with laser measurers and other gadgets. Ira was especially interested in my favourite tree in the canyon, the “Talus Giant”, directly under the "deathtrap trail". The tree was measured as having height of 65m, diameter at breast height over 2m and crown canopy width over 16m. These numbers combined create a “significance score” which I was later told placed the tree within the top forty Douglas Firs in the UBC database; a helpful statistic if the road proposal is revived.
Around the same time, I worked with FLNRORD and Robin Richardson, at the local access group, on an expansion of the Chek Canyon Rec Site boundary. The initial objective was just to include the new popular climbing areas like Electric Avenue but I proposed and sketched out a bigger polygon that also enclosed the old growth area. I have been out of the loop on this for a while, but if the provincial website can be trusted, that new boundary does now seem to be official.
None of which is the focus of this blog post except that the canyon, which is probably not The Chek Canyon, is central to the story and therefore needs a name; I will just call it “the canyon”. Also that, while hiking back from the white wall, we had our first opportunity to see the whole of its west side. At the time I was mostly interested in the Hermitage cliff which we had just discovered but I also noticed a cliff of uncertain size up above the established Big Show area, which as far as I knew had never been explored. Strangely this discovery then sat in my head for two years. I never quite forgot about it but never generated the momentum to do anything about it either.
In early 2020 development of the Hermitage was coming to a close and I was spending more time working on the “deathtrap trail” which was the best approach to the Hermitage. I re-routed the first steep climb on that trail twice, seeking to avoid a large patch of scree which did not look like it would ever stabilise. One day in April, after a morning of that kind of work, I had some time to kill, so went for a short exploratory bushwhack from the top of the steep climb toward where I thought the mystery cliff might be. A tricky scramble out of a gully led me to a ledge system that slanted up above the Big Show. Almost immediately I could tell I had found something significant: the first wall I encountered was at least 25-30m tall, was both steep and featured and was also shockingly dry. And there were more large expanses of rock beyond.
I let Leo in on the secret and within a few days we had found a way to the top of the cliff, which was on the rim of the canyon and dropped a fixed line down the first wall. A major surprise was finding bolts above the cliff already - the work of highliners who had begun to take an interest in Chek, and specifically the opportunity to fix and walk long lines across the canyon. The cliff was therefore immediately named “Highline”, though after a few months I recalled that there was already a Highline Wall (named for the same reason) on the Chief and decided to think again. Months later I settled on “Echo Beach”, a name I had in fact used previously for a new route in the UAE, but doubted anyone would spot this or care!
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| Echo Beach from across the canyon; climber on Wave Machine, 5.12b |
The first step with many new cliffs is to clear the base area which in this case meant removing several small trees from the ledge system. Not for the first time I called in my good friend Luc, who in turn recruited his whole family (wife Keiko and sons Sean and Kyle) to help. As they seemed psyched on the cliff I asked whether they wanted to join in on the route development. Optimistically I pointed at a line at the far right end of the cliff which I guessed might be a “good 5.9 or 5.10” and they took the bait. Luc is primarily a mountain man who has raised his sons in the same tradition and it struck me that it might be entertaining to entangle them in a sport climbing project - this would prove correct.
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| The Martins at Echo Beach |
Leo’s friend Nic also joined the crew at an early stage. Later my friend Ben W, and Danica, who I didn’t know but had just volunteered as moderator on a Facebook group that I had set up, adopted a line each. So we were nine, of which only I had bolted routes before. I hadn’t consciously intended to be a new routing mentor but it seemed more fun and more efficient to divide up the labour. I guess also at the back of my mind was a judgment that although the cliff had strong lines there were none that would be harder than 5.12, so there was no fame and glory at stake!
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| Leo making an early ascent of Surf Park, 5.12a |
As everyone will know, spring 2020 was a strange time to be attempting anything at all due to the global SARS-CoV-2 outbreak. For the (apparently) very few people who understand rate of change statistics it was fairly clear by May 2020 that deaths from the virus were no longer growing exponentially and therefore the threat was not especially apocalyptic. However pandemic hysteria did continue to grow exponentially and even outdoor climbing came under scrutiny as an inappropriate activity. The local access group, which I had recently quit (more on that subject another time, perhaps), even put out guidance to that effect, suggesting that outdoor climbing was “uncondoned”, though I was amused to see that few of the board members followed their own advice. (I believe that research since has shown that there was never a risk of catching the virus from climbing holds and of course we also know that significant mental health issues have arisen because of people abstaining from sport.)
On the positive side this meant the Chek parking lot was uncharacteristically empty through the 2020 summer and fall, and it was much easier to keep the cliff secret. By the end of the year most of the lines were complete, though in some cases the first ascents took a while. Luc’s line was revealed to be more like mid-5.11 than the 5.10 I had estimated. As none of the family had climbed that grade before it was a good challenge for him and his sons. Sean came close to stealing the FA from Luc, hence the eventual name “I schooled the Old Man”. Danica’s line, “Rodeo Clown”, also proved to be significantly harder (5.12b) than her previous hardest redpoint (5.11d), and her FA efforts turned into a classic redpoint siege that continued into 2021, complicated further for her by concussion following a mid-winter car accident. The vibe during the period was almost always upbeat. The cliff was a fun place to hang out, with its exposed ledge system and big views over the canyon. Two unique (for Chek) features of the cliff made it climbable in almost all conditions: it was high enough above the canyon to get any sun going, even mid-winter; the canyon rim above was clear of large trees and moss, meaning no seepage.
On the positive side this meant the Chek parking lot was uncharacteristically empty through the 2020 summer and fall, and it was much easier to keep the cliff secret. By the end of the year most of the lines were complete, though in some cases the first ascents took a while. Luc’s line was revealed to be more like mid-5.11 than the 5.10 I had estimated. As none of the family had climbed that grade before it was a good challenge for him and his sons. Sean came close to stealing the FA from Luc, hence the eventual name “I schooled the Old Man”. Danica’s line, “Rodeo Clown”, also proved to be significantly harder (5.12b) than her previous hardest redpoint (5.11d), and her FA efforts turned into a classic redpoint siege that continued into 2021, complicated further for her by concussion following a mid-winter car accident. The vibe during the period was almost always upbeat. The cliff was a fun place to hang out, with its exposed ledge system and big views over the canyon. Two unique (for Chek) features of the cliff made it climbable in almost all conditions: it was high enough above the canyon to get any sun going, even mid-winter; the canyon rim above was clear of large trees and moss, meaning no seepage.
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| Sean making the second ascent of Stihl the Daddy, 5.11b, in December! |
Opening new cliffs always seems to get a little messy in the final stage as the secret usually leaks before the “official” opening, leading to accusations of favouritism or worse. Having witnessed some especially dysfunctional examples of this, notably at The Monastery, I was keen to achieve the cleanest possible transition from “closed” to “open” status. I had a topo ready to release to the public from early 2021 but did not want to do so until Danica sent, which ended up being in May. So there were a couple of spring months when the secret was leaking out fast and ever more climbers showing up. I became anxious that someone might FA Danica’s route by mistake. Though it was clearly red-tagged to signify a “closed” project it was well-chalked, had quickdraws in place and looked pretty inviting. While it is easy to get emotive in these situations, developers need to remember that on public land everyone is entitled to be there and any “developer rights” we may perceive are conventions within the climbing community and have no legal substance whatsoever!
In the event, this awkward limbo period played out fine. Almost everyone seemed to love the cliff and the routes, and I received plenty of useful feedback to improve the topo. Only one incident occurred that was disappointing. A local (sorta-famous, Arc'teryx-sponsored) guide showed up with two bored, video-game-playing children and a feral dog, did not deign to speak with anyone already present, abandoned the entourage on the narrow exposed ledges unsupervised and then reappeared a while later swinging around on a rappel rope from the highliner bolts on uncleaned terrain well above the routes' anchors, endangering everyone below with potential rock fall. On being yelled at to understand their intention, the individual responded angrily that they “knew what they were doing” (quite evidently not true!) and were seeking out anchors to top-rope the cliff’s easiest route (which was not in fact accessible from their rappel, as I could have explained). While both bored children failed to climb the 5.11 which had been erroneously equipped, the feral dog enjoyed running around on top of other climbers’ flaked ropes. I don’t think I was alone in being relieved when this group left. Again, they were as entitled as anyone else to be there, but having the humility to actually consult with the developer before questing around above the cliff would have made for a better and safer day for everyone.
I should qualify that anecdote by saying that most guides in the Sea to Sky area don't behave arrogantly and often give back to the community through new route development and other voluntary work. This individual's behaviour that day was an outlier.
In June I released my topo “New Climbs off the Deathtrap", which also opened the lid on the Hermitage for the first time as well as Echo Beach. Several of the Echo Beach routes became instantly popular, especially Nic’s "Chicken Joe", 5.11a, and my "Wave Machine", 5.12b, the first route that I bolted on the cliff. At the time of writing, both of these long endurance routes had more than fifty logged ascents at sendage.com. Which is unprecedented for routes in their first year being open, as far as I know.
As this seven year period of route development began to draw to a close (I am aware of some other possibilities but will leave them for others) my interest started to drift away from climbing to other issues in the area. Spending time at the Hermitage and Echo Beach had increased my awareness that “the canyon” is home to an impressive collection of old-growth trees, especially some glorious tall Douglas Firs. The full extent of this untouched ecosystem - continuous forest of one square kilometre or more - is much more apparent from those cliffs (and the trail between them) than anywhere else at Chek. The largest of the trees are in the riparian area in the canyon base. There are at least ten trees of ~two metres diameter or larger, including one easily-visited example just behind the Well of Souls boulders. Firs of this size are around 400-500 years old.
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| The grove of firs at the end of the canyon |
Given that the Conroy Creek FSR area has a long history of logging it is surprising that such a large area has been spared. The most likely reason is that the canyon’s hostile terrain - large talus at one end, narrow at the other, steep slopes in between - has been a deterrent. The trees do not have any legal protection. In 2015, BC Timber Sales proposed a new road along the canyon base, which would have created easier access to the old growth zone and likely caused the immediate logging of the biggest trees, as they grow on the road’s intended route. The road proposal did not move forward but could still reappear at a future date.
I am not by any stretch an environmental activist and I perceive a lot of hypocrisy and posturing amongst some people who style themselves as such. I don't see desirable long term environmental goals like CO2 emission control being achieved at the expense of human living standards, especially in the developing world, nor without adoption of unfashionable technologies like nuclear power. I strongly recommend Michael Schellenberger's book "Apocalypse Never" in this context. However, after travelling extensively around BC, I have become increasingly shocked by how little of the province's original coastal rainforest seems to remain standing. It is not hard to find impressive individual old growth trees or groves if you go exploring, even close to an old logging town like Squamish, but larger tracts comprising an intact ecosystem are very rare; which is unequivocally sad. In relation to the Chek trees, it also struck me that, for better or worse, I was likely to be the only person with the time and awareness to be their guardian in the near term. So I decided to be pro-active in doing that.
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| The Talus Giant from Echo Beach, catching winter morning sun |
In fall 2020, as a mechanism to raise awareness and get some informed opinion, I nominated two of the largest trees to UBC's BC Big Tree Registry. This led to a visit from Ira Sutherland, chair of the committee maintaining that registry, and his friends, armed with laser measurers and other gadgets. Ira was especially interested in my favourite tree in the canyon, the “Talus Giant”, directly under the "deathtrap trail". The tree was measured as having height of 65m, diameter at breast height over 2m and crown canopy width over 16m. These numbers combined create a “significance score” which I was later told placed the tree within the top forty Douglas Firs in the UBC database; a helpful statistic if the road proposal is revived.
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| Ira Sutherland and friends measuring circumference for the Narrows Giant: the canyon's broadest, but not tallest, fir |
Around the same time, I worked with FLNRORD and Robin Richardson, at the local access group, on an expansion of the Chek Canyon Rec Site boundary. The initial objective was just to include the new popular climbing areas like Electric Avenue but I proposed and sketched out a bigger polygon that also enclosed the old growth area. I have been out of the loop on this for a while, but if the provincial website can be trusted, that new boundary does now seem to be official.
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| The new rec site boundary The canyon straddles the central drainage marked with the thin blue line |
As I hinted above, I have made a conscious effort to stop new routing for a while. Various reasons. One is that Echo Beach seems like a great stopping point, completing an arc of development and trail building around Mt Chek from The Substation to Electric Avenue to the Monastery to the Hermitage. And I think it is very unlikely I could find another cliff of comparable quality to Echo Beach any time soon. I have also noticed that too much new routing tends to erode some climbing skills, especially onsighting, as you become very used to always being on known terrain. And the time-suck is significant. I think at this point I would rather put that time into working routes at my limit and/or just enjoying climbing other people's routes.
I thought I would finish with some thoughts on a mildly-controversial topic which is "closed" first ascent projects. It is common around Squamish to come across bolted lines with red tape or similar in a prominent location, signifying that the route is "red tagged" or "closed": the person who equipped and cleaned the route has not sent yet and does not want anyone else to try. There are a lot of opinion on this of which the far ends of the spectrum are: "it is never acceptable to close a route" (an opinion often held by very strong climbers who are smugly confident that no-one else can do their projects anyway) and "you can close a route for as long as you want". Most other people, who have an opinion, tend to sit somewhere in between. Something like "Projects can be closed for as long as the equipper is still genuinely trying it" or "one year is long enough".
I have closed several lines over the last few years, some of which have kept their red tags for much longer than a year and, in some cases, I have not really been actively trying them, though some kind of intent has been there in the background, or I have hoped that Leo, or one of this friends, might send. However I have felt guilty about my (in)actions. One mitigating idea that I have pursued is to attach my name and cell number to the first bolt. That enables anyone, who is interested, to enquire as to the actual status of the project and ask if they can try it. I think it somewhat lessens the inherent passive-aggressiveness of the red tag. Something other people might consider? Anyway, that's my two cents.
This topic is in my mind right now, as of today I have no closed projects anywhere. For the first time in a several years. Yesterday I was at Echo Beach with a new friend from Whistler, both repeating several of the 5.12's for "volume". The last couple of months have been unusually cold and rainy in Squamish but Echo Beach with its privileged position on the rim of the canyon was getting all the morning sun going. The only sounds were birdsong and the mysterious quiet roar of wind moving through big trees. Unanticipated, a succession of friends, and someone I'd messaged with but never met in person, arrived at the cliff. Leo also appeared with his friend Karina. My last closed project was a leftwards finish to Danica's Rodeo Clown that I tried multiple times during spring 2021. Though the independent climbing is short, it is in the most exposed position on the cliff, battling a slanting seam through the capping roof. Leo had a few tries yesterday then sent today without much fuss.
Consciously ending an era of your life can be bittersweet but I feel pretty good about moving on from developing at Chek. It is nice to have a body of work that's coherent, whether climbing, art, whatever. And I have had other recent life changes that open up other options, less tied to Squamish. That said, I am already feeling a lot of nostalgia about the last two years developing at Echo Beach, as it was almost entirely fun, social and a culmination of lessons learned elsewhere. I feel very fortunate to have had this experience.
