Jasmin's Adventure Journal

Slowing down to catch up - fall road trip photos

2012-01-23T13:50:00.011-07:00

I have found myself with eight hours to kill in an airport. I am on my way to Patagonia, Argentina to meet up and climb with my friends Kate Rutherford and Mikey Schaefer. While in many ways, the adventure of this trip has already begun - complete with a cross-provincial odyssey on treacherous winter roads, an alpine start to get to the airport, comical shenanigans in airport lineups (hidden cans of salmon stashed in the kiddy luggage of a family of 5), it's hardly these details I want to focus on. There will be better stories to tell by the end of the trip!

I realize, however, that I haven't written anything in a long time, and as usual, it hasn't been for lack of travel and adventure. I will share some of my favourite iPhone pics to tell the story of my fall road trip.

Our autumn road trip began with a cross-continent drive from Squamish to New York. It was a long drive, as expected, but I loved the golden serenity of these prairie landscapes late in the afternoon.

Day 1 in NYC - our view of the Occupy Wall St. protest. We were downtown for the Light the Night cancer fundraiser, but it was cool to see the civil disobedience event of the year first hand. I must admit I was a bit tempted to join the march...

We spent 10 days climbing on the brilliant, bold trad routes in the Gunks. I finally got the hang of the climbing style enough to push myself a bit on some harder routes. The Gunks combines the ultimate in trad gear fiddling and amazing technical movement. This is single-pitch climbing that doesn't let you get your guard down for a second!

Although BC's mountainscape is definitely my happy place, the beauty of the East-Coast autumn is lovely.

Everytime I visit NYC, there are new wonders to experience. This billboard-sized photo of a rugged rocky canyon dusted in snow is part of a public art exhibit. It certainly makes me feel more at home among the concrete and cars and consumption.

Love it!

After the Gunks, next stop was the Red River Gorge, Kentucky where we teamed up with a whole slew of Canucks to sample the famed sandstone sport climbing. This is Mandoline getting limbered up for a shopping spree. We had to stock up on wine in Lexington because the regions surrounding the climbing prohibit the sale of alcohol other than beer (but chain smoking cigarettes inside your place of business is TOTALLY OK).

Jer lookin' mighty suspicious

The climbing in the Red River Gorge is really good and relentless. I have never so desperately needed rest days and a hot tub to soak my aching muscles in.

Patterns in the sandstone

At the crag, I befriended these locals: Kermit and Sparky.

Cool windfarm on our cross-country return journey.

Sometimes really long drives make your head explode

Poached vid

2012-01-14T21:50:00.002-07:00

Evan put together another little vid about skiing at VMT.

Little vid from the first freshies of the season in winter paradise.

2011-12-24T20:42:00.002-07:00

Dirt-bagging is in my genes... and a Father-Daughter climbing trip to the Tantalus Range

2011-10-06T19:20:00.020-06:00

I grew up in a very outdoorsy family. Pretty much everything we did for fun together revolved around some type of outside activity. Most of my favourite memories from childhood are from hiking trips in the Valhallas and Goat Ranges of BC, canoe trips down the Slocan Lake and backpacker-style budget travel abroad. Pretty early on I began to understand that the necessary cost of adventure was occasional discomfort. When I was 12 my parents, sister and I all slept in a compact rental car in the Sheraton Parking Lot in Hawaii after finding ourselves on the “wrong side” of the island with nowhere to camp and a fancy hotel stay beyond the budget. Closer to home, I remember laying awake in a tent pitched on an exposed ridge with my Mum and sister while a thunderstorm raged, worried that even if I didn’t get electrocuted, I’d get eaten by a grizzly because I had stashed a pack of Juicy Fruit gum under my sleeping pad. The climax of the night was when my Mum, worn down by my fearful whining, rushed out of the tent and tossed the gum dramatically off the ridge, where it was snatched by the wind, slender sticks of fragrant Juicy Fruit raining onto the adjacent mountain slope where those foul breathed grizzlies could chomp on it freely without having to claw their way through our tent first.

Of course, most memories from my MEC-catalogue upbringing are more positive. One of the biggest bonuses of going on hiking and camping trips was that, for once, my sister and I were given free reign to select treats that were otherwise verboten in our millet, lentil and tofu laden family cuisine. I still remember the taste of a Jello pudding cup I ate at the Lake O’Hara campground in the Rockies. I think it was butterscotch flavour. God, it was good. But seriously, I think my affinity for the life lived outside was born on childhood camping trips. What could be better than reading a book while sprawled out in the fragrant padding of an alpine meadow or taking an icy dip in the bluest of blue tarns? Playing Super Mario Bros and eating CoolWhip? If you had asked me then, I’m afraid I probably would have preferred the latter. Clear proof that kids don’t know what’s best for them.

My adult life has evolved into a natural continuation of the outdoor adventure I first experienced on these trips with my family. The main difference is that I can watch bad TV whenever I want and instead of buying bottles of Crystal Pepsi with my allowance, I tend to opt for something a little harder. Actually, the main difference is that I spend a ridiculous percentage of my waking hours rock climbing, something that neither of my parents had experienced much before I got into climbing in my 20s and began guiding them on the rock.

I bought my Dad a climbing harness for his 50^th birthday and taught him how to belay in the Gunks. I had only been climbing around a year, but thought that since we were on a family trip to visit relatives in Montreal, we shouldn’t miss the opportunity to check out the quintessential trad destination. I sketched my way up 5.5s and 5.6s, and wondered why my Dad seemed so scared to trust that I knew what I was doing. He eventually grew to trust the rope, and me, and we have been on numerous climbing adventures since. This summer my Dad turned 60, so to commemorate that, and in some ways, 10 years of our climbing adventures together, we went climbing for 5 days in the Tantalus Range near Squamish, BC.

My Dad's photos of me revealed that I was committing a few Alpine Guide Fashion (isn't that an oxymoron?) Faux Pas: apparently NO ONE tucks their pants into their gaitors any more (I missed that ACMG memo) and it doesn't inspire confidence in your skills as a guide if you look like a 10 year old wearing your too-big baseball hat crooked. Luckily for me, I am not a real alpine guide and my Dad is many things, but fashionista, alpine or otherwise, is not one of them.

It's really hard to believe we are related...

The trip began auspiciously, with a solid forecast and an amazingly scenic heli flight into the Haberl Hut, where we were delighted to find we were the only occupants. This Alpine Club of Canada Hut is no slummy bivy, boasting huge windows showcasing amazing views, a BBQ, and bright, clean interior. Because we flew in, we were able to bring in fresh veggies, salmon and steak for our first few nights in the alpine, not to mention a six pack of beers we kept literally glacier-cold by stashing them on the glacier right out our door. If all alpine climbing was like this, I'd probably do it a bit more often!

Happy in the sun upon our arrival at the Haberl Hut

Slumming it

Hungry mountain climbers need good fuel

Q: Which of these things is not like the others?: ROCK, ICE, LACE, SNOW, KOKANEE BEER

We were visited one evening by a bride and groom who had flown up just to take some photos on their wedding day.

In our first few days in the Tantalus, we climbed the classic steep snow and ice of the North Face of Serratus and the pleasant glacier approach and moderate rock climb up the South West Face of Dione. Our third day was spent hiking from the Haberl Hut to the Tantalus Hut at Lake Lovelywater. We completely underestimated the time, effort and energy it would take to hike the few kms between these two huts and by the time we finally made it to the trail along the shores of Lake Lovelywater, we were tired, hungry and I was being plagued by a swarm of black flies that were obsessed with crawling in my eyes, nose and mouth. My heavy pack had chaffed my hips and sacrum raw and I was wondering why I had opted to carry all the heavy stuff, when in reality, my 60 year old Dad is probably at least as fit as I am. After a big meal and long sleep, the trials of the previous day reduced to faint bruises, we were ready to get after it once again, and went up the East Ridge of Alpha. The approach and route were enjoyable, but just as we made it to the summit it began to snow, and then it began to rain. The descent route was slippery and a bit treacherous, particularly on the steep vegetated slide paths above Lake Lovelywater, but we picked our way slowly down and survived yet another climb unscathed. Our last day was spent canoeing on Lake Lovelywater and hiking down the steep trail to the Squamish River, where we were picked up by a boat and brought back to all the luxuries and distractions of life in town.

Winding our way up the North Face of Serratus

The Mountain Man on the summit of Serratus, Tantalus and Dione in the background

Dad takes in the morning light on the way up to Dione

On Dione's South Ridge

The East Ridge of Alpha

Mist on the way up the East Ridge of Alpha

Summit of Alpha, just as the snow and rain begin

Paddling one of the Tantalus Hut's canoes on Lake Lovelywater

Descending into the coastal jungle on the hike down to the Squamish River

I feel tremendous gratitude that I was raised by parents who made wilderness adventures a fundamental part of their lives. Sharing climbing trips with them brings me closer to a feeling of contentment than anything else I do. And in retrospect, I totally appreciate all the processed food and bad TV deprivation of my childhood; I can treat that with measured doses of DQ soft-serve and Glee.

Quality AND Quanitity at The 24 Hours of Horseshoe Hell, Arkansas

2011-09-29T10:58:00.005-06:00

Imagine how you feel at the end of a full day of climbing; the pleasant forearm and back ache, the tenderness of the skin on your fingers and toes, the craving for a cold beer and some tasty food. That's pretty much how I felt 8 hours after the starting gun went off at the 24 Hours of Horseshoe Hell in Arkansas. But instead of giving in to fatigue I chugged some canned coffee beverage, scarfed down one of the turkey-hummous-veggie wraps I had pre-prepped to avoid energy bar burnout and dragged the rope over to our next pitch.

A few light snacks for a day of climbing

High Octane Fuel

My climbing partner extraordinaire Brittany Griffith had done the event three times before so had laid out a strategy that allowed us to climb 80 pitches each in the first 12 hours. I enjoyed the feeling of getting fired up and climbing moderates as fast as I could, and our technique was reminiscent of short-fixing on an aid route, meaning that we had to stay focused and not make any foolish mistakes.

Brittany and I at the starting line, feelin' fresh

Getting the rules of the game from event organizer Andy Chasteen

After nightfall I expected the climbing to feel much more difficult, but with the featured sandstone illuminated by the beam of my BD Icon headlamp, I could easily see all the features I needed. In fact, climbing in the dark forced me to focus on the terrain at hand rather than worrying about what was ahead, necessitating confident and decisive movement.

Despite the energy troughs and sore skin that accompanied the night shift, this was by far the most memorable part of the event. A womens team called The Cannibals climbed beside us for awhile, complete with crazy teased feather adorned hairdos, large and elaborate tatoos on their bare arms and legs and glow sticks taped to their quickdraws. They were scary. But not as scary as the huge Copperhead that was curled up on the trail, which was in turn not as scary as the dude I saw deliberately raise a watermelon sized rock over his head and drop it on the Copperhead, killing it instantly. I screamed like a girl when i almost put my hand on a Hobo spider on a climb, and Brittany got bitey ants inside her shirt and got chomped on the back. We climbed a route called Hairy Butthole Pussy Potter, which stuck in our fatigue-addled brains so much that we sang the route name and giggled maniacally for the next several hours.

Strange things lurk in the woods of Arkansas at night

Just as Brittany warned me it would, 3AM brought on a physical and mental low. I felt weak, unmotivated and unpsyched. I came close to pitching off a steep, short 5.10 and a nasty case of gut rot was causing me to fart audibly every time I pulled hard. We also had to move on to an area where there was no one else climbing (because we were out of routes, not because of the farting) meaning I could no longer sponge enthusiasm from other climbers. Clearly it was time to resort to chemicals. I washed down a triple dose of Ibuprofen with alternating glugs of Red Bull and PBR and moments later felt as perky as the body page of a Patagonia catalogue. The final 5 hours flew by, with low pitch counts but constant motion. The sunrise manifested as several seconds of a surreal orange dappled glow on the wall, and before long it was time to pack up and head down to the ranch to turn in our scorecards. Surprisingly I was way too fired up to sleep for hours after we finished climbing. Endorphins were coursing through my veins and I felt great. I am pretty sure the rest of the Patagonia team wanted to kill me when I suggested we head out climbing. After a dose of hot pizza and cold beer I finally took a nap. While I was sleeping an evil gremlin put sand in my eyes, rubbed the skin off my fingers and injected lactic acid into my arms and legs.

Desperate times call for delicious measures

The rest of the evening was a blur of awards ceremonies, slide shows, arm wrestling comps and dancing. At the 24 Hours of Horseshoe Hell I learned that climbing for 24 hours straight when you don't really have to is actually pretty fun, as long as you have a great partner, some comfy rock shoes, a ton of quality stone, piles of water and food and 200 other participants and a bunch of volunteers keeping the stoke up.

Awards ceremony in the barn loft

The Dolomites - Italy installment 3 of

2011-09-08T16:17:00.005-06:00

OK, I know this post is tardy beyond any reasonable limit of tardiness. I'd like to think that in Italy, they would understand. I've had a summer full of wine to drink, rocks to climb, people to guide, events to attend... sitting in front of the computer just hasn't factored high on my list of priorities. At any rate, I'd like to seal the deal on this last installment of stories on my trip to Italy before I move on to some future posts already brewing.

Our trip to the Dolomites was brief, and really did not scratch the surface of the climbing there is to be had there. We arrived prior to the true climbing season, so many of the roads leading to the prime objectives like the coveted Tre Cime were still closed. We did, however, get a taste of the surreal beauty of the landscape in the Dolomites, and were inspired to return for some future play time.

We arrived in Cortina in the late morning, and were blown away by the sleepy state of this glitzy resort town. It was like arriving in a ghost town version of Banff, Whistler or Aspen; designer boutiques, cobblestone streets, cosy wine bars, galleries devoid of people and tourists. Many of the hotels and stores were closed for the off season. We were happy to avoid the hubub, and enjoyed strolling the quiet streets of Cortina, inhaling the crisp, cool mountain air after the oppressive heat and throngs of tourists in Arco.

Our first climbing days were spent on the Cinque Tori (5 towers) located a 15 minute drive from Cortina. The geometry of this group of spires is amazing, and the rock offers 1 to 4 pitch routes on mostly decent rock with a super short approach and fantastic alpine scenery.

Taking a stroll in the alpine, with the Cinque Tori in the background

Climbing on the Cinque Tori

Our second day at the Cinque Tori we had a lovely picnic after completing the first of our objectives, a 4 pitch 7a. As we got up to walk to our next climb, I began feeling woozy and before long, I was barfing up lunch, breakfast and everything in between. Something in the picnic had poisoned me, and I think it was the canned tuna. That ended our day pretty fast, and I spent the next 24 hours bedridden and in rough shape.

When I sprung feebly back to life the next day, we agreed it was wise to avoid climbing until I got some energy back, so we took a scenic drive and a small walk in the vicinity of the Tre Cime. We enjoyed the beautiful signage. Billboard companies in North America should go for this style I think.

The Tre Cime... drool.

The next day I was feeling revived and ready to tackle some climbing, so despite an iffy forecast we headed up to the Primo Spigolo for a 7 pitch 7a. A group of four older German climbers arrived at the parking area at the same time as us, and matter-of-factly began racing us to the base of the mountain. Evan began chatting with them to see if they were doing the same route as us, which looked a bit unlikely given their equipment. But they assured him they were doing the same route as us. Disappointed and not wanting to climb under a party of four on the somewhat loose looking limestone face we began to discuss alternative options. At the base of the route, the Germans encouraged us to follow them, stating that there was no loose rock and that they were going to solo the first pitch anyway. Evan looked at me with a quizzical look on his face. The first pitch was one of the cruxes of the route, so it seemed like a bit of a stretch for these grey-haired folks to be soloing it. But it IS Europe, so you never know! Turns out they were doing a moderate route adjacent to ours, but Evan and I had a few good moments of being half impressed, half horrified about witnessing this posse soloing 5.11+.

We started up the route as the sky became darker and darker. The climbing was well protected wherever it was tricky, but run out and loose everywhere else. On the final pitch, with the weather coming in, I pulled off a huge rock and thought I was going to kill some people below us. Trying to stop the rock with my foot, I sliced my ankle and squished my finger, and was in poor spirits at the top. As the wind picked up and the rain drops began, we started the rappel, nervous about getting down the loose face on a rap line that was separate from the route. As Evan made his way down the second rap, the rope above him knocked off a huge microwave-oven sized block, which narrowly missed him as I screamed "ROCK". Both of us were shaken, and as I began rapping down the pitch I noticed the tag line had been badly damaged. Yikes. A few raps on a jammed-knot on our lead line later, we made it to the ground and I hobbled on my sore ankle back to the car. We were ready to high-tail it to France to finish the trip with some sport climbing in the Gorges du Loupe.

Hiking up beside the Primo Spigolo

Climbing the final arete, right before I pulled off a big block.

All you need is love (and your rope to not get cut in half)

Arco, Italy. Oh... and did I mention Ferrari Spumante? Italy - Installment 2 of 3.

2011-07-08T12:24:00.007-06:00

After two glorious weeks in Castelbianco, throwing ourselves at steep sport climbs with abandon, it was time to move on. Some projects were put to bed, others, like on all good climbing trips, must be revisited in the future for the redpoint. We piled ourselves and our gear into our teeny Chevy Spark rental, we called her Sparky, and began driving across Northern Italy to Arco. We stopped periodically at gas stations along the Autostrade (freeway), not to fill up on gas, but for another necessary, aromatic and delicious type of refuelling... coffee! Each gas station was equipped with an espresso bar where you could grab a damn tasty cappucinno, macchiato or espresso for a few euros. No paper cups at these joints, just spotless white porcelain to hold the deliciously fresh concoction for the few moments between production and consumption.

Staying caffeinated and alert was important because driving in Italy is slightly terrifying. Even with Sparky's pedal to the metal 140 km/h was about our max on flats or downhills, but other drivers would make us feel like we were standing still as car after car passed us going 200 km/h. The road traveled through more frequent tunnels than I have ever experienced, meaning our eyes were constantly adjusting to light and dark.

We finally arrived in Arco late at night, and an enthusiastic and friendly young Italian man named Mateo met us and escorted us up one of the steepest hills I have ever driven. Our destination was a four-apartment villa situated on a hill above Arco and Lago (Lake) Garda. The villa was surrounded by vines which Mateo explained were of the Ferrari Spumante variety, a specialty of the Trento region. I could hardly believe our luck... not only were we staying in a comfy villa, far from the tourist-ridden streets of Arco, but we were surrounded by a grapes with the world's most fun-to-say name. We took advantage of our upscale accommodation, and our friend Dylan Taylor, an American expat photographer and mountain guide living in Chamonix joined us for the week.

The villa and of course, the Ferrari Spumante. Dylan Taylor photo.

Is this really us? With our afternoon antipasti and wine you could almost mistake us for 'normal' people on a Euro-holiday. Dylan Taylor photo.

But "normal" people probably don't buy the 1 Euro bottle of wine, just to see what happens...
Dylan Taylor photo.

"Maybe if I let it breathe a bit it will become drinkable..." - rest assured that bottle was NOT poured down the drain. Dylan Taylor photo.

Oh yeah, I forgot, there was some climbing done on our rest days from eating, drinking wine and lounging in our private vinyard. Oh yeah, and then there was swimming in the numerous lakes in the surrounding countryside. Some of the climbing we did in Arco was actually really good. And just being somewhere with so much climbing history was fun. Since 1987 Arco has hosted the Rock Master climbing comp, and a few minutes walk from downtown Arco is the giant artifical wall where this competition is held. The town is surrounded by single and multipitch climbing, including up to 12 pitch climbs on Mt. Colodri, which is literally a 5 minute walk from your morning cappuccino or afternoon gelato. We climbed Zanzara, a fantastic 12 pitch 7a+ on Mt. Colodri. A variety of climbing styles, sustained and technical pitches and fairly minimal polishing made this one of the most classic and memorable climbs of our entire Italy trip. Even the descent is classic, a via ferrata popular with tourists winds its way down from the summit ridge, which has both a castle and a giant lit-up cross, along steep ledges back to town.

Climbing on Zanzara. Dylan Taylor photos.

Looking down on Arco from partway up Mt. Colodri. Dylan Taylor photo.

The single-pitch climbing in Arco was also really good, but much of it was on sunny walls and while we were there temperatures were spiking above 30 C. The popular and stacked crag Massone was also the most polished rock I have ever climbed, making it difficult to relax and enjoy the movement on the gently overhanging flow features. We did do some amazing pitches, and if I found myself back in Arco I'd hope for some cooler temps to have a few more burns on the amazing 7c tufa climb called Abissi.

After just over a week in Arco it was time to move on up and out of the heat. Next installment: Dolomites!

Ferrari Spumante and other stories from the land that 'booted' me back into climbing shape - Installment 1 of 3

2011-06-21T11:24:00.009-06:00

I recently returned from a month of climbing in Italy with my husband Evan. It was our annual 'lose-ski-legs-drink-cheap-wine-pull-steep-limestone" pilgrimage to Europe, and as a vacation destination, Italy did not disappoint. To keep this from being a mega-post of unwieldy proportions, I am breaking it up into three installments I will post in the next few weeks.

We began our trip in the Castelbianco region of Oltre-Finale, a collection of limestone crags in a lush, peaceful valley in the Liguria region of Italy. Around 1.5 hours from Nice, and a quick 20 minute drive from the Italian Riviera, Oltre-Finale offered great climbing in a variety of styles for us to get back in the groove after a long winter. Some of the best crags faced south, making them too hot for the late spring temps, but we found an all-day shade paradise called Erboristeria (translation - Herbalist) that had a few great warm-ups and enough 40m challenging pumpfests to keep us busy for much of our 2 weeks in Castelbianco.

The morning commute to Erboristeria included crossing this old stone bridge

Climbing at Erboristeria

Jeff Banks climbing at Erboristeria

For me, a great climbing trip has to engage all my senses, not just pump out my arms. I can do that curling soup cans in front of the TV at home! As soon as I arrived in Italy, I knew this climbing trip was not going to lack for sensory stimulus.

Our first trip to a supermarket revealed an amazing selection of excellent produce, cheese and wine. The gelato was to die for - flavourful and creamy. The pizza was a simple and delicious combo of thin chewy crust, tangy sauce, flavourful cheese. The coffee was strong and invigorating. Oh, am I still on taste?

Smell - the air in Castelbianco was consistently fragrant from the blossoms of numerous flowering trees, shrubs and plants.

Sight -medieval stone villages, fig and cherry trees laden with fruit, small scale agriculture and well-kept dwellings.

Touch - the feel of the warm, smooth, water sculpted limestone underfoot after a chilly dip in the river. According to Italian vending machines, touch is very important....

Sound - every morning at dawn melodious birdsong drifted into our apartment.

On one of our rest days we broke the golden rule: never climb on your rest day. We convinced ourselves that an easy 5.9 7 pitch traverse above the Mediterranean in the blazing sun couldn't possibly be anything but restful, so we drove down to Finale and rapped in to this truly amazing traverse. It was worth the aching toes and sweltering heat - it was really beautiful climbing on the white stone above the deep blue sea.

Exploring the old walled city of Finale also proved to be a great rest day activity. I fell in love with all the old bikes and scooters leaning against the stone walls of impossibly narrow alleys.

The scooter in front is called "BETA"

Coming soon: installment #2 of Italy trip blog about our time in Arco.

A Reluctant Arrivederci to Winter

2011-04-30T21:28:00.017-06:00

A friend told me recently, “all good things come to an end”. Being a fun-seeking, hedonistic person I dedicate most of my time and energy to ensuring that my life is chock full of good things all the time, thus if one ends, another quickly takes its place. In the case of winter 2010/11 it seemed like a great thing that really never would end. In fact, I am being dragged away from freshly powder dusted steep skiing in the coast range by a pre-planned climbing vacation to Italy. Sob story right? Your heart is just breaking for me right now, I know it.

But seriously, what a winter! Before I can feel good about entirely switching seasons, I feel compelled to pay homage to what was a truly amazing winter in terms of snow quality, mostly good stability (at least where I spent my winter), and great days in the mountains with friends and clients alike. This post is a series of images, beginning with the end of the Valhalla Mountain Touring season in late March and ending with my last day on skis for this winter.

Last day at Valhalla Mountain Touring – Solo skiing sunshiney pow with my furry pal Benny and good tunes. Although it feels wrong to wrap up with dry snow on the ground, it’s always a relief to complete another safe season and move on to other ski venues.

First stop after leaving VMT was a quick hit at Rogers Pass to ski for a day with friends training for their AMGA Ski Guide Exam. We skied some great runs off Cheops in fantastic snow AND both friends subsequently passed their exam, bringing them coveted IFMGA status.

Peter and Silas emulating Euro ski guides in every way including fashion. I think their pants could have been a bit tighter to really capture the look though...

Silas raps in to the STS Couloir on Cheops

Peter keeping a serious eye on the anchor as Silas raps in

Apparently the anchor is bomb-squad because it held me and my end-of-season quads in overhanging terrain. Silas Rossi photo.

Part way down the STS couloirs. Great line, great snow, great views.... great BIG hands. Are my hands really that huge? Silas Rossi photo.

After Rogers Pass it was time to head home to Squamish and some Coast Mountain fun. First stop on the coast was the Aussie Couloir on Mt. Joffre with Cece Mortenson and Andrew Rennie.

Cece skins up next to the Matier Icefall

Endless bootpack up the Aussie Couloir. Luckily for us there were literally 7 people in front of us to stomp in the bootpack. Unfortunately they also skied all the snow off the run too... but let's face it, the bootpacking is really the best part.

Andrew on the upper section of the Aussie Couloir

Three climbers on the cloud-shrouded ridge of Matier as viewed from Joffre.

Cece and Andrew getting ready to drop into the licheny-rock lined entry to Heartstrings on Mt. Taylor, our bonus lap after skiing the Aussie Couloir.

The next mission was also on the Duffy Lake Rd. with Cece. Because the weather was looking iffy we decided to bring Benny, who was going into powder withdrawal after a few weeks absence from Valhalla Mountain Touring where he porpoises the pow daily. It's always tough on the coastal ski days to leave him at home, but since many of the tours involve time on glaciers I just can't justify risking him wandering into a crevasse. Benny pretty much always listens to commands.... unless there are other dogs, rabbits, pine martens, wolverine, goats, food or animal tracks of any kind within sniffing distance, not that you would ever encounter ANY of these things on a ski tour. I do find it pretty funny that I choose objectives with his safety in mind, and then he proceeds to straight-line everything even if there are 20' cliffs. He also likes to dig out his resting spots right on the edge of cornices... best vista point for scouting rabbits I guess. Yup, he's kind of the client from hell, but he just LOVES to play in the snow, gives unconditional love, and he's really, really cute so I just can't resist bringing him most of the time.

Howling winds on Mt. Slalok and the Matier Glacier

Cece and Benny leaving their distinctive signatures in the valley after a sweet run on Joffre’s North Shoulder.

Cece and Benny celebrating on the tippy-top of Mt. Chief Pascal.

Cece and I enjoying each other’s company AND enjoying our tunes out on the slopes. I feel so fortunate to belong to a community where finding motivated partners who are willing to get up at 4:30AM to play in the mountains OR stay out till 4:30AM dancing is not usually much of a challenge. Cece and I may have done both in the same day together once this winter...

Finally after two weeks of waiting I got a day off work that the weather was good enough to ski the north face of Slalok. Accompanied by Katy Holm (not to be confused with the married to Tom Cruise Katie Holmes... this Katy is way cooler) it was an amazing day with face shots the whole way down the huge run.

North Face of Slalok. Yummy.

Katy skinning up the ridge on Slalok, with Joffre’s numerous couloirs in the background.

Katy partway down Slalok

Next two-planked outing was a rare day of skiing the lifts at Blackcomb and Whistler with my Dad. He has spent the last few winters in warm, snowless places so despite countless past ski adventures and misadventures, we haven’t gotten out together in a long time. While riding the chairlift up he told me about the first time I tried skiing. I was around 3 and he strapped tiny plastic skis on me and slid me down the pile made by snow sliding off our metal roof. Apparently l giggled like crazy. It’s nice to know that 27 years later skiing still has that effect on me.

My Dad. I hope I'm still shredding like him when I'm almost 60!

At the Peak Chair in Whistler, a strange spring phenomenon was witnessed....

Hey, quack here often?
I guess the lifties are getting bored by this time of year...

Next up in the family fun department was a visit from my Mum for a few days. We embarked on the Spearhead Traverse which she easily rocked in a 9 hour day. Her remarkable endurance never ceases to amaze me.

My Mother rocking the cotton tee on the Spearhead Traverse. If it's Patagonia Organic Cotton, is it still death cloth?

Note the cowboy in the background. I hired him to carry and serve our picnic complete with wine. Actually I didn't, but that would have been a great idea. There's always next time!

My last day on skis for the season was pretty special because it involved guiding three teenage rippers on their first day of backcountry skiing. We ventured into the Blackcomb slackcountry and did some basic avi training, talked about mountain travel and skied some cool runs.

First skin up: big smiles, fresh legs, "backcountry skiing is awesome!"

Second skin up... the boys were whistling a slightly different tune.

Well winter 10/11, I guess that’s it for us. Our time together is really over. Thanks for the deep turns, the steep turns, the stormy skies, the bluebird days, the shot-ski sessions and dance parties and thanks especially for the opportunity to enjoy time in the beautiful mountains with great co-workers, guests and friends.

Liquid Courage and Beer Goggles: two new runs at Valhalla Mountain Touring

2011-03-24T22:13:00.008-06:00

The day had gone so well, maybe that was the problem. My Mum was up at Valhalla Mountain Touring to visit and ski while I worked as the lodge custodian for a self-guided group. I had had my eye on an unskied couloir for the whole season, and stability and weather were looking good, so I figured we'd ski it together since it didn't appear steep or difficult. Just a pretty rock-lined narrow powder run in a beautiful setting. As I parked us on the exposed ridge that leads into the run, my Mum started having second thoughts. "Hey Jas, I need some liquid courage" she said, laughing. I passed her a beat up brandy-filled chocolate from the bottom of my trail mix bag and she washed it down with some black tea from her small thermos (she doesn't drink water while out ski touring) and was ready to rip.

We dropped into the line, which had great snow and beautiful overhanging rock walls on either side of it. When we got to the bottom, I asked her what she wanted to call it, and she decided on "Liquid Courage".

First run of the day - some powder turns to warm up for the goods

Benny and Bella dropping in on Liquid Courage

My Mum shredding

With plenty of daylight and energy left, we began touring up to ski another run in the same cirque as our newly discovered gem. To the left of Liquid Courage, a steep snow headwall loomed that looked skiable with great snow. Enter the Beer Goggles. See, from the uptrack the run looked like Jake Gyllenhaal - sexy, with just the right amount of scruffiness. When we peeled our skins and I dropped in to the entry I realized it was actually Seth Rogen, all scruffy, no sexy. Way steeper than I had thought and with my first few turns I kicked off a thin windslab, leaving firmer snow beneath. Knowing that she was not psyched for the sustained mid-40 degree pitch with firm snow, my Mum skinned back to where she could access some mellower terrain, and I did the walk of shame down "Beer Goggles", partially loving the steepness of the run, but feeling bad that I had misjudged the severity of the terrain. We enjoyed a few more good runs, before heading back to the cosy staff quarters at VMT, ending our day as all good days in the mountains should end, with wine, tasty food and a warm fire.

Just another first descent for Benny, at the bottom of Beer Goggles in flat light

My partner in crime for the day, the coolest mother ever!

VIMFF Best of the Fest

2011-03-18T10:21:00.002-06:00

If you want to see a slideshow about my Greenland trip last summer, I am presenting it at the VIMFF Best of the Fest Wed March 30 at the Pacific Cinemateque in Vancouver.

http://www.vimff.org/pagedesktop.asp?portalid=5&pageid=80

Precious days in the mountains

2011-03-04T22:31:00.002-07:00

Here's a video Evan put together from our last few days of touring at VMT. Pretty exceptional snow. The recent loss of a friend and fellow guide reminded us to savour every turn because you never know how many days on this amazing earth are left. Hope you're skiing endless pow and climbing perfect rock somewhere, Andrew.

Summer 2011 Climbing Clinics for Women, Men and crazy people who want to climb big walls!

2011-02-24T09:47:00.002-07:00

I've spent the past few days clipping bolts in the sun in Red Rocks, enjoying a brief but amazing respite from winter. All this warm rock has got me thinking about how much I love climbing and how psyched I am for the coming summer of guiding and climbing in Squamish!

Here's my clinic list for the summer. If you are interested in a day of private instruction or guiding, or would like to sign up for one of these clinics, please contact me at: jasmincaton@gmail.com.

June 4-5 Trad/multipitch techniques. $275 for 2 days.
Gear placement, anchor building, multipitch station management and much more!

June 11 Rock Rescue. $175 for one day.
What to do when the sh*% hits the fan? If you are multipitching it's your responsibility to know your stuff! This course covers escaping the belay, improvised rope ascending, improvised raising and lowering systems and rappelling with an injured climbing partner.

June 18-19 Big wall and aid climbing tactics. $400 for 2 days, 2:1 ratio.
Want to climb The Nose on El Cap? I can help you learn how! Clean aid climb leads, jumaring/cleaning, rope management, hauling, dropped poop bag dodging (not really).

June 25-26 Crack climbing technique for women. $275 for 2 days.
From tips to chimney, hand jams to butt-scums, learn the movement skills to improve your crack climbing surrounded by a crew of like minded ladies. Includes a BBQ on Saturday night.

July 1-2 Trad/multipitch techniques $275 for 2 days.
Gear placement, anchor building, multipitch station management and much more!

July 3 Rock Rescue. $175 for one day.
What to do when the sh*% hits the fan? If you are multipitching it's your responsibility to know your stuff! This course covers escaping the belay, improvised rope ascending, improvised raising and lowering systems and rappelling with an injured climbing partner.

July 9-10. Crack climbing technique for women. $275 for 2 days.
From tips to chimney, hand jams to butt-scums, learn the movement skills to improve your crack climbing surrounded by a crew of like minded ladies. Includes a BBQ on Saturday night.

Hope to see you this summer!

VMT video

2011-02-07T17:58:00.004-07:00

Some smart person said, 'do what you love, love what you do'. It's a philosophy I have taken to heart, and something that I chant over and over to myself neurotically while scooping my dog's poop off the uptrack, digging out stuck snowmobiles, sponging pubic hairs off the sauna floor and other tasks that spell G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S (or glamoUrous if you are Canadian, which obviously Fergie is not).

Anyway, a few weeks back had an absolutely magical week of "work" at Valhalla Mountain Touring. Minimal 'glamour' maximum good times with great snow, great food and an awesome mix of guests who came from far away, exotic lands like Barrie, Ontario and Anchorage, AK to sample the Selkirk Powdeur.

One of the guests, Skai Dalziel, is the owner of Whistler Tasting Tours and put together this sweet video from the week.

When work and play are the same thing: days off ski touring at Rogers Pass

2011-02-01T21:43:00.008-07:00

Evan and I had a few days off from slaying pow at Valhalla Mountain Touring this week so we decided to take a vacation to the ski touring mecca of Rogers Pass. You would think we would want to lay around and eat pizza and watch TV on our days off, but no can do. Apparently we don't get enough exercise and excitement at work. At any rate, we couldn't have planned it better: clear skies, a recent dump of snow and a pretty stable snowpack gave us a chance to sneak up several classic ski ascents over the past few days.

Our first day at the pass we headed up towards Mt. Rogers, where we hoped to stay warm on south faces in the -20C temps. Lucky for us a few other ski guides on their days off had broken a killer skin track and bootpack up the south face of Rogers. We met up on the summit, found out we knew a ton of people in common and then enjoyed a 2000m ski run back down to the highway together in lovely boot-top pow. Gotta love that.

Evan enjoying the view towards Sir Donald from a rest on the Tupper Glacier

Descending the gut-wrenching knife edge from the summit of Mt. Rogers

Descending off the summit in my pink suit

Enjoying the descent in the sun

Evan posing with his wiggles in the background

After having such a fun day on Rogers we decided to brave the shady side of the highway and head up the Asulkan Valley towards Young's Peak. We had our sights set on Forever Youngs, a classic couloir slicing the rocky massif of Young's Peak. Sighting crowns from a recent cycle on many, but not all, of the slopes around the ski objective we changed our plans to climbing and skiing the Seven Steps of Paradise, the classic descent of Young's into the Asulkan Valley. After freezing our fingers, faces and skins off we finally made it up into the alpine and even got to break trail to the summit of Young's, a rare privilege as Rogers Pass gets increasingly busy. It was a great day of skiing, although the snow was so cold we had trouble getting glide as we skied down the long descent.

Busting track up Young's Peak

Booting up the steepest slope to reach the Peak

Enjoying views from the summit

Scoping out the line from the huge windscoop near the summit

Enjoying the slow, faceted snow on Young's Peak

It's going to be hard to top these past few days as I spend the rest of my week off with Evan. Great tours, amazing views in a spectacular setting, and evenings spent catching up with old friends over nachos and beverages in the Glacier Park Lodge at the pass is just hard to beat. On the agenda is soaking in the hotsprings, going out for coffee in Revelstoke, oh and maybe a few more ski tours before we head back to work.... ski touring.

Nippy New Year

2011-01-02T20:36:00.024-07:00

Yup, it's a chilly one here at Valhalla Mountain Touring, where the margaritas are frosty, the snow is bloooowwwwer and the outhouse is a veritable ice hotel.

Good thing there are heated indoor bathrooms with real toilets for the paying guests. The lodge slave aka owner aka me gets her own private outhouse, but I can tell you, there was no reading the funnies while taking my time about it this week! Brrrr. But all that hoar frost was really really pretty.

Spent the week with a crew of Squamish and Vancouverites who I know mostly through climbing, but as usual my friends impressed me with their ability to fully send at what ever sport they are doing, be it climbing rock, scaling mountains, ski touring or just getting down on the dance floor. It was awesome to have a motivated crew for the evening hangboard workouts for once.

Good company aside, it was a pretty special week in the mountains, where a well-timed storm, good stability and some spectacular clear days had me wishing it wasn't getting dark at 4:00 so I could ski more laps. But skiing more laps would cut into sauna time, which would cut into drinking time, which would cut into eating time, which would.... well you see where this is going. There was no shortage of fun ways to spend time this week.

Big Sister Mountain reflected in Kelly's lenses

Me, Mandoline and an alien hovering on the summit of Rugged Peak

Katy and I rockin' out on Rugged with the Monashees in the background

Everybody loves a good facet wallow

Antony and Benny collecting snow on their facial hair

Heading up Rugged Peak

Jeremy Blumel demonstrating "silent feet" on Rugged Peak

Katy enjoying the view

Thanks to all the amazing people I spent 2010 having fun with!

Bishop pics

2010-11-21T18:35:00.010-07:00

These are a wee bit outdated now, but good climbs, great friends and fun in the sun never grow old, eh? Awww shucks....

Evan celebrating life on the road... or showing off his huge ape index

Evan shadow dancing on a chilly day at Little Egypt

Craig 'Captain Fantastic' McGee onsighting Espresso in some finger-numbing conditions

Me flailing around on the steep and fun 'Enterprise' in the Owen's River Gorge

Evan warming up in the Crab Cooker while Benny looks on

The Yosemite Yoyo

2010-10-26T21:06:00.009-06:00

One amazing thing about the fall road trip is that you can visit the same locations many times over, and each time have a new experience. Lately I have really been digging checking out brand new climbing zones like Greenland, France and Greece. Unfortunately, it's really inconvenient to travel on airplanes with an extremely loving and outrageously cute but rather disobedient 80 lb dog. It is for this reason that Evan and I spend our fall off-season vacation in climbing areas that we can drive to in our truck, tiny camper and big black fur ball Benny.

How could I possibly expect to leave this guy at home?

This year we decided to start in Yosemite. I have had so many memorable experiences in Yosemite, things that stand out clearly as milestones in my life as a climber. We counted it up and Evan has been to Yosemite on 10 separate trips and I have been there 8 times. My first time to Yosemite in May of 2001 I drove all night from Smith Rocks with my buddy Hatha in my '89 Chevy Corsica. We had climbed Monkey Face that day, then got in the car and drove non-stop through the night snacking on chips and milkshakes. We rolled into the Valley in the early morning, and I still remember the awe I felt as El Cap popped into view. We went to climb Nutcracker but parked in the wrong spot. Our attempt to bushwhack over to Manure Pile Buttress was abruptly aborted when I very very very nearly stepped on a huge rattlesnake in some boulders, scaring me to tears. When we finally found the trail and found the climb, there were four parties waiting so we moved on. The Kor-Beck on Middle Cathedral looked like a decent option so we began up it, but I got off route and took a 15 foot whipper on the smallest size of Rock Empire cam (I didn't have much cash and could get a good deal on these through the climbing gym I worked at in Vancouver). Luckily the piece held, but my psych to continue up the route did not so we rapped off a single nut.... another first for 20 year old Jasmin! Later on in the same trip I climbed Snake Dike on Half Dome with a different partner, but had caught a stomach bug in Camp 4 (hard to believe, I know) and had to run to the bushes to shit 7 times on the hike to the base.

I'd like to say that my subsequent 7 visits to the Valley were less dramatic in nature, but they were anything but. When I climbed the Nose, I not only had fresh human shit fall on me and splatter all over my helmet, the next day I also mis-aligned my Freshette/shenis and peed down my leg and had to spend the next 48 hours as Pissy-Pants-Caton. When I climbed the Regular North-West Face of Half Dome, my partner Larry and I foolishly decided to leave our regular shoes at the base of the route, meaning we had to hike down 2000' of slabs, steep gravel and snow in our rock shoes, then it got dark and we couldn't find the direct route to the valley bottom, so we hiked over 13 kms on the hiker's descent. When I climbed Zodiac with my friend Amelia we caught up to a female soloist on our second day who had contracted a bad flu and needed to descend from super-overhanging terrain two-thirds of the way up. We spent an entire day helping her, her haul bag and our haul bag to the ground, with YOSAR employees shouting helpful hints on the bullhorn from the meadow. When I attempted the Salathe with Amelia, I took off my helmet for a few minutes while hauling in the blistering sun on Heart Ledge. A 0.75 Camalot dropped from the top of El Cap and hit me right in the middle of the forehead. I will never forget the sickening THWACK sound the cam made when it struck me. Blood poured into my eyes and I thought for sure I was really messed up. Two minutes later, I realized I was OK and only had a tiny cut on my hairline, but the realization that it had been the difference of a cm kept me awake all night and combined with other factors had us bailing off the route the next day.

Don't get me wrong, some of my favorite road trip memories were made in Yosemite: Evan and I climbed Serenity-Sons of Yesterday on our first date, climbing the Rostrum for the first time with Amelia and taking repeated whippers on the offwidth pitch, climbing Astroman with Scott and the elation of wriggling my way to the top of the Harding Slot, climbing amazing finger cracks at the Cookie Cliff, napping in El Cap meadow, drinking beer and socializing in Camp 4, washing up in the Mountain Room bathrooms, cruising around on a bike someone gave me in the Camp 4 line up and eating Its-its after scarfing pizza with a rowdy table full of dirtbags on the pizza deck.

Nostalgia aside, Yosemite definitely always has something intense to offer. This trip to Yosemite was a bit different in that we avoided Camp 4 altogether in favour of a campground in El Portal where we could sleep in our camper and avoid the ranger, campsite, national park hassles. We did some amazing climbs and had no shortage of adventures, elation and intense effort. Rather than give the whole run down, I will let a few photos share the stories.

Following one of the burly 5.10 pitches on The Crucifix IV 5.12a, Higher Cathedral Rock

Following Evan up the 12b Alien finish on The Rostrum

The first of the free-variation pitches on Half Dome's Regular NW Face

"Chim-chimeny, chim-chimeny, chim chim cheroo, I don't like chimneys 'cause they make my knees blue"

Evan on the glory pitch in the glory light before our bivy on Big Sandy Ledge, Half Dome. It is a good thing that we are married, because I am not even kidding, the only good sleep I got during that bivy was when he let me lay on top of him. The rest of the night I was shivering.

A video Evan made of the last light as seen from Big Sandy Ledge, Half Dome

Leading the first zig-zag in frigid morning conditions, Half Dome

Following the final crux pitch on Half Dome, a 11+/12- slab

Evan and I on the summit of Half Dome Not a bad adventure for a boring old married couple!

Fall splendour

2010-10-05T10:30:00.003-06:00

Fall is by far my favorite season. I love the crisp breezes, the shortening days, the incredible clarity of the air when it is not hazed by humidity and smog. Fall makes me feel like cooking amazing food - colourful salads full of local harvest bounty, hearty soups chock full of root vegetables and seasoned with fresh herbs. There is nowhere better to indulge my fall cravings than at my childhood home in Hills, so when guiding work wrapped up in Squamish, Hills was the first stop on my fall road trip which will eventually take me to Yosemite, Bishop, Red Rocks, Zion and likely some other stops too.

I spent some quality time catching up with my Mum, sis and Dad and some necessary work time getting Valhalla Mountain Touring all ready for the winter ski season.

The unveiling of the new (heavy!) Wolf stove for the lodge

Fall colours over Fish Lake, near Retallack

Spectacular weather for a hike up Mt. Brennan with my Mum and our pack of hounds

Pretty views from the summit of Mt. Brennan towards Whitewater Peak

Big smiles, bright jackets and white sunglasses is the dress code for the day on Mt. Brennan

Bootskiing on the descent

BC Staycation

2010-09-06T18:52:00.008-06:00

One of the great things about going away on a trip to Greenland was that I came home with renewed psyche and admiration for my life of work and play in Squamish. I have had so many local mini-adventures since I arrived home: trips to the farmers market, swims in the river, amazing mountain bike rides, many climbs up the Chief, a dance party 'till dawn and a mini climbing road trip with my best bud Mandoline. I can hardly believe I have been home less than a month!

I guided my friend Dave on his first climb to the top of the Chief via Rock On and the Squamish Butt-Face. He liked the experience so much we did The Ultimate Everything two days later!

Dave enjoying his first time up the Chief

Dave getting into this gem of a handcrack on The Ultimate Everything

Although Mandoline and I can't make our schedules match up as much as we would like, we make up for it by having a lot of fun when we manage to get out climbing together. We ventured out on a two-day mini road trip to the limestone adventure-chossaneering mecca of Marble Canyon and the soaring granite slab-dome of Yak Peak.

Me weaving through the choss on Yellow Brick Road, Marble Canyon, BC

If only the rock could be as good as the scenery

At least our ropes got stuck on the rappel and I got to tune up my prussiking skills

Yak Peak - slabby from top to bottom

Mandoline on Yak Check, happy to be back on the granite

Yup, pretty slabby

Mandoline channeling the lightness of a butterfly, landing on the death flake for but a mere second

If only our yoga could be as coordinated as our outfits

Yesterday I was guiding the Squamish Buttress and was able to spectate Evan Stevens and Jeremy Blumel on Colin Moorhead, Tony Richardson and Jason Kruk's new route on the Prow Wall - Gravity Bong IV 5.12d. Looks like an amazing and high quality line, I can't wait to try it!

Jeremy belays Evan on the 12a third pitch of Gravity Bong

Evan climbing the 12a fifth pitch of Gravity Bong

Evan shaking out on the 12a fifth pitch of Gravity Bong

Foraging 101: What not to eat in the Tasermiut Fjord, Greenland

2010-08-22T19:34:00.007-06:00

If I could pass on the most important thing I learned from my climbing trip to the Tasermiut Fjord in Greenland, it would be this: don't eat foraged foods unless you are absolutely sure they won't make you barf. I thought I knew this already, but I guess when you turn 30 you have to re-learn lessons you learned in previous decades of your life. It's like the lessons have an expiry date, kind of like when you forget how bad a hangover feels so you have a few cocktails too many only to swear off drinking for the rest of your life when you spend the next day feeling like crusty Squamish slug scum.

It was all the weather's fault. My climbing partner Kate Rutherford and I hadn't climbed anything in over 10 days because of drizzly and unsettled conditions that had kept the huge, steep granite faces of the Tasermiut Fjord seeping and damp. Two days prior, conditions improved and we got all ready to head up the British Route (VI 5.12+ 600m/19 pitches) on Nalumasortoq for a second time, with hopes of redpointing the two 5.12 pitches we were unable to onsight on our first go up the route. We hiked to the base and bivied, waking the next morning to find the face still soaking wet with a thick fog preventing further drying and some pretty regular and large rockfall occurring near the base of the route. We completed the 2 hour hike back down to basecamp and shifted our objective to the quicker-drying but longer War and Poetry (VI 5.12c 1000m/31 pitches) on Ulamatorsuaq. On the same day, we repacked and hiked 2 hours up to the base of this route, hoping to begin climbing the following day, but by the time we arrived at the bivi boulder the drizzle had begun yet again. We had no choice but to stash our climbing gear and head back down to basecamp for more reading and chilling in the Megamid until conditions were right to go climbing.

I was going a little batty. I am a high energy person who generally needs a good amount of physical and mental challenge to feel satisfied. I had opted to go "coffee free" on this trip, which certainly helped to me to manage my impatience with the poor weather, but after almost two weeks of waiting I was beginning to lose the plot. The worst part was, the weather was actually not that bad for doing anything but climbing. Hiking - fine. Fishing - fine. Bouldering - fine. But the long-seeping nature of most of the climbs, combined with daily doses of drizzle and thick fog meant that full day to multi-day free climbs were not an option.

Not a bad place to spend your summer

Basecamp on the Tasermiut Fjord

Mussels for our muscles - gourmet eats in the Megamid at basecamp

It might be raining at our high camp at the base of Ulamatorsuaq, but at least we have brie

This little guy kept me company on one of my foggy hikes

So I went hiking. I hiked for a few hours up a hill behind basecamp, snapping photos of the vegetation and enjoying views of the spectacular scenery. On my way back to camp I noticed some large, brown mushrooms of the same variety that a team of Czech climbers at the same camp as us had been collecting and eating daily. A pair of Danish Peregrine Falcon researchers I got to know at a youth hostel in one of the Greenlandic villages we stopped off at on our way to the Tasermiut Fjord had also been collecting and eating the same mushrooms. Well, I am sure you can see where this is going... I picked one of the mushrooms and carried it back down to camp. Conveniently, the Czech guys were around when I got back, so I could double "Czech" that this was, indeed, the correct variety of mushroom. They confirmed that it was, and went so far as to trade a larger mushroom of the same variety for our smaller one so that we would have more for our dinner. Kate and I cooked up a pasta sauce which we thought was quite gourmet with the sauteed mushrooms, some tomato sauce, a bit of sundried tomato pesto, onions, garlic, oregano and some red wine. Bellisimo! Or not. Several hours later we were both barfing to beat the band. It was a rugged night. Really rugged. I managed to get down some breakfast and water, but after going on a short hike down the fjord puked it all up and realized that hiking solo away from basecamp in the middle of nowhere Greenland while suffering from some kind of mushroom poisoning wasn't the brightest thing I have ever done. I dragged myself back to camp where Kate and I spent the rest of the day being really pathetic and weak.

It doesn't look like this friendly Czech climber is trying to kill us, but don't be fooled

The irony is that the other two climbing teams in the area both ate the same mushrooms that night, including the one that I had picked and none of them got sick at all. Moral of the story, don't forage unless you are trying to send your steep single-pitch project and need to shave off that last few kilos.

Basically I am trying to scare you all away so that you won't find out how rad the Tasermiut Fjord is and I can have it as my own, private summer retreat with amazing granite big wall climbing, crystal clear blue ocean water, lush and flower covered meadows, super fun bouldering, wild blueberries, mussels and arctic char, oh and mushrooms. I am going back for sure.

In terms of climbing, we did the British Route (VI 5.12+ 600m 19 pitches) on Nalumasortoq over one and a half days with a light and simple semi-sitting bivi on a ledge with down jackets and a sil tarp. It's no wonder we didn't onsight the 5.12 pitches after that night of "sleep". If I could summarize the route in two words they would be HAND JAM. We did about a zillion of them. Not a single pitch was slabby, it was all vertical to slightly overhanging and mostly really good stone. The crux pitches were cool finger crack climbing with slightly licheny, flakey feet but would be very doable if they were pitch 2 and 3, a bit less so because they are pitch 16 and 17.

Nalumasortoq - The British Route

The British Route Topo, photocopied from the route library kept by the Nanortalik Tourism Service

Kate Rutherford in the golden evening light doing the 5679th and 5680th handjams on pitch 12 of The British Route, Nalumasortoq

Does this look like a bed to you? Nope me neither. Our bivi spot on "The Banana" - a sloping ledge on pitch 15 of the British Route

Sunset and moonrise over the Ulamatorsuaq massif as seen from the Banana Ledge, pitch 15 of the British Route, Nalumasortoq

Smiling after a long night on the slopey Banana Ledge on The British Route, Nalumasortoq

On the summit of The British Route, Nalumasortoq

The Greenland Gun Show, Nalumasortoq dwarfed in the background

After patiently and not-so-patiently waiting in the rain for two weeks, we climbed War and Poetry on Ulamatorsuaq (VI 5.12c 1000m 31 pitches) in marginal conditions. We soon realized that freeing a 31 pitch big wall with no haul bags and no portaledge in two days is difficult to begin with and made only more challenging when it becomes freezing cold, rainy and windy for parts of both of the two days. When we hit the half way mark and the weather went south, free climbing switched to a mix of free and french-free and second following went to second jumaring in an effort to just get to the top. It was on pitch 21 or so, as I dragged my meat through a gaping crack, leaving scabs on my shoulders, spine and knees, that I had 'the epiphany' . After poetically dancing and prancing our way up the 5.10 to 5.12 slab pitches on the first half of the route we were now waging war with steeper rough, wide, physical dihedral climbing. Ah ha! War and Poetry! The really proud thing was that the Czech team who did the route before we arrived didn't bring anything bigger than a #4 camalot. For reference: we brought a #5 and a #6 and placed them both on at least 10 of the last 15 pitches. We topped out in a rain and windstorm at around 21:30 on our second day on the route. We rapped all night, doing at least 28 raps to get to the ground in a variety of conditions that ranged from wet and windy to dry and windy to calm and pouring. The only consistent thing was the cold. I pretty much shivered the whole night except when I rapped down the wrong way off a ledge and had to jug back up. It's pretty safe to say that I have never been so trashed. My finger tips were completely raw and I was having some cool sparkly over-tired hallucinations in my peripheral vision, although maybe that was just a residual effect from the mushroom poisoning. We collapsed into our tent at the bivi boulder after feasting on ramen, herbal tea and ibuprofen. Five hours later we were ready, barely, to limp the 700 vertical meters back down base camp for a real feast and some more sleep.

War and Poetry, Ulamatorsuaq

War and Poetry Topo

Camp at the base of Ulamatorsuaq

Enjoying the sun and views down the fjord from pitch 23 of War and Poetry

The oh so splitter Bow String Crack, a 5.11d finger crack on pitch 25 of War and Poetry

Kate racing the storm to the summit on pitch 27 of War and Poetry

Despite the bad weather, it was hard to leave the Tasermiut Fjord at the end of our 20 day expedition. I could have easily spent another 10 days climbing or waiting to climb simply because the place is truly amazing. Beautiful stone, beautiful scenery and a great partner made this trip a success even if I could have done with a bit more time on the rock.

I have to admit, that it was nice to get back to the creature comforts. We stopped in Reykjavik, Iceland on our way home and treated ourselves to a spa day, complete with real beds, a trip to the Blue Lagoon natural hotspring, and cappuccinos and pastries galore.

Kate savouring the comfort of cotton sheets at our cute guesthouse in Reykjavik

Yum

The Blue Lagoon, doesn't get much better for muscles tired from climbing and travel. Did I mention you can get wine in the pool? Enough said!

MANY MANY MANY THANKS TO: THE MUGS STUMP AWARD, THE JEN HIGGINS FUND AND MOUNTAIN EQUIPMENT CO-OP FOR MAKING THIS TRIP POSSIBLE!

Additional thanks to Patagonia, Black Diamond, Pro Bar, Sterling Rope and Five Ten for providing stuff we needed for the trip

Women's Climbing Clinics in Squamish!

2010-07-28T16:41:00.002-06:00

In case you missed it in the last post, there are still some spaces available in 2 more women's specific climbing clinics this summer in Squamish:

Women's Crack Technique Course
August 21-22, 2010
$250 for a 4:1 ratio

Two Day Trad Leading and Multipitch Techniques for Women
September 18-19, 2010
$250

Drop me an email if you want to sign up! jasmincaton@gmail.com

Women's Crack Climbing Weekend in Squamish

2010-07-12T18:30:00.009-06:00

The participants and instructors, perfecting our crack climber gang signs

The Crack Climbing Technique for Women clinic this weekend was a ton of fun. The participants Pamela, Helen, Jen, Krissy, Lisa, Elli and Colleen all had great enthusiasm and weren't afraid to toss any amount of their flesh into the rock in the name of climbing cracks. Thanks to you wonderful women for a great weekend, and looking forward to seeing you all out on the rock or in future courses! I was lucky enough to convince young cranker and lovely lady Hazel Findley to help me coach the women as they honed their finger locks, finger stacks, ring locks, hand jams, cups, fists, hand stacks, chicken wings, butt scums....

Thanks to Black Diamond for providing the cool t-shirts and to Pro Bar for supplying yummy, healthy snacks.

If you are interested in signing up for a Women's Crack Technique Course, the next one is August 21,11, 2010. Price $250 for the weekend.

Other courses coming up:
September 18-19, 2010. Two day trad leading and multipitch techniques for women. Price $250.

Contact me at jasmincaton@gmail.com to book a spot on either of these courses or to get more information.

Pamela on Exasperator

Climbing buddies Krissy and Jen at the base of the Grand Wall

Krissy on Exasperator

Jen on Exasperator

Lisa on Exasperator

Helen on Exasperator

Elli on Exasperator

Colleen on A Pitch in Time

Pamela on a Pitch in Time

Lisa celebrating her clean ascent of A Pitch in Time

Refueling in my back yard after a hard day in the Smoke Bluffs

Ceuse and Presles

2010-07-04T09:31:00.012-06:00

The last 2 weeks of my France vacation were whiled away at Ceuse and Presles. Two limestone climbing areas that are remarkably different, given how close together they are geographically.

10 things I loved about my time in Ceuse
1. The hike to the crag: 1 hr long, gently switchbacking trail. Pairs well with thumping beats, CBC radio DNTO podcasts or a song in your heart, take your pick.
2. The views from the crag: lush green agriculture, dramatic snowy peaks, quaint villages.
3. The stone: amazing quality limestone with pockets and edges. Great friction where it's not polished to glass. Some of the most interesting movement I have ever experienced.
4. The campground: super chill, camp anywhere on the grass atmosphere, nice trees, hot showers.
5. The nutella jar full of red wine keeping me company as I chopped veggies for another one-pot-dinner.
6. The many friendly climbers I met from all over the world.
7. Rest day yoga on the grass at our campsite.
8. TV shows on the laptop while curled up in the tent.
9. Quordy pass and play games on the ipod. If you enjoy Scrabble you may also like Quordy... check it out.
10. Our 17 Euro air mattress that filled up the whole tent and was no less than 30 cm thick.

Techy above the void on Cent Patate, Ceuse

Yup, pretty much a climber on everything I wanted to try...

but there's always happy hour back at the tent... who needs a project anyway?

We spent the last two climbing days on our trip at Presles, a less popular and less polished single and multipitch climbing area less than two hours from Ceuse! We did two amazing multipitch climbs: Canada Dry and Vue de l'exterieur. I am already excited about revisiting this amazingly peaceful, uncrowded and high quality climbing area on my next trip to France.

Presles - so much rock, so little time

So much rock with no established climbing... yet

Airy traverse on Canada Dry

To finish things up, a few days in Paris:

The Mona Lisa, who I am pretty sure is smiling with secret disdain for tourists in Paris

The best way to see Paris is on the VeloLib bikes, which cost just a few Euros per hour

The best part of the Louvre was the Napoleon Apartments recreation. Haven't seen this many chandeliers since the Ouray Ice Fest.

Adventures in the Verdon Gorge

2010-05-28T10:05:00.012-06:00

Prior to coming to France on a climbing trip, the Verdon Gorge held mythical status in my climbing imagination. Friends who had climbed here spoke of long, rad, sparsely bolted or mixed routes that could only be accessed by long, steep, intimidating rappels. If you weren't able to get yourself back up and out via your chosen route you could expect an all-night hike in your rock shoes just to exit the gaping maw of the Gorge.

The good thing about having the Verdon Gorge built up to mythical proportions by these stories was that when I finally got a chance to climb here it wasn't nearly as intimidating as I expected. Don't get me wrong, the week I just spent climbing in the Verdon Gorge was anything but mellow; as different from last year's Kalymnos club-med bolt clipping vacation as an Indian Creek offwidth is from a Ceuse pocket ladder.

We started off the trip on La Demande, the popular moderate classic of the area. 10-11 pitches up to 6a (5.10b). Really fun climbing but I wouldn't recommend it if 5.10- is your limit, some of the pitches only have one or two bolts in 50m. I appreciated my trad background on the final several pitches which are full on back-and-foot chimneys. Don't forget to dangle your pack and move your gear to the front gear loops; my lucky leaver biner with my Houdini, knife and prussik loop did the old magical unclip as I writhed my way up. The saddest part was Evan actually caught it while belaying but then fumbled it as he tried to clip it to his harness and it did the full 400m plummet into the scrubby bushes at the base of the route. Unfortunately, this wasn't the only item we sent into the abyss... more to come.

Next we decided to climb Pichenbule, a slightly more difficult and highly recommended route. Half way up we got slammed by a storm. Lightening, thunder, slashing rain, and we were still 150m from the rim. We were able to traverse into a neighboring easier route and race upwards as the limestone got wetter and slipperier. Lucky for us the easier route was a bolted crack; slimy hand and foot jams between pulling on bolts on provided an exit that the slick crimps on our original route never would have. The next morning we returned to Pichenbule to complete the route. Evan was climbing an easy, traversing pitch with our 7mm static rappel line coiled and strapped to his pack. The rope caught on a scruffy tree and was wrenched from his pack and fell 300m to the bottom of the gorge. All we could do was laugh and be grateful that there was no one anywhere near the base of the route that day. After completing the climb, we drove to the trailhead for the Sentier Martel, the highly popular hiking route that travels through the bottom of the gorge, beginning with a several km of pitch black tunnels blasted out of the solid limestone where the gorge is too narrow to provide a trail. The tunnels were ankle deep in water, increasing the fun factor exponentially. We bushwacked up steep crumbling scree and after an hour we were incredulous to actually found our tag line within 20m of the base of the route. We also went looking for my Houdini at the base of La Demande, but couldn't find it. We did find a locker, a nut, a quickdraw and a broken camera though!

The best fauna viewing of the trip, besides the ripped Frenchmen in spandex at Ceuse of course, has been the birds. Beautiful melodious birdsong is what woke me early on our first morning in France and we have seen many interesting colourful birds at the crags and while driving. The Griffin vultures that inhabit of the Verdon Gorge are one of the most majestic birds I have ever seen while climbing, topped only by the California Condors in Zion. These birds have a 2.5m wingspan, and have a beautiful brown and white pattern on their back that you can see when they soar below you.

Maybe it's just me getting soft as 30 stares me in the face, but these days a big part of the enjoyment factor on climbing trips is the quality of accommodation. I'm not talking about king-size, pillow top, room-service, jacuzzi-tub stuff here, but a bivi with a great view, a nice little shop to get some good groceries and cook up a tasty meal after a long day, or a grassy spot to do some stretching on rest days will go a long way towards making a good trip great. The Verdon wins the top prize for amazing accommodation within my price range. We stayed in the Mayreste Gite (gite is the name for self-catered apartment-style rentals in France) owned by Anita and Jean-Francois Monier, a couple in their 70s. The gite is a 4m by 10m rectangle with a sloping roof built onto the side of the couple's stone farmhouse on a small plateau of land looking down into the western end of the Verdon Gorge. Studio style, with a fold out bed, tiny stove and fridge but really well thought out for comfort and efficiency, right down to the roomy tiled shower and uncluttered main room with plenty of space for stretching on the floor. The full window door has an amazing view, and their is a flagstone patio for outdoor eating or reading in the chaise-lounge. A 100m walk takes you to the spring where you can collect delicious drinking water on-site, and the property is covered in a progressive combination of vegetable gardens and solar panels which provide all of the power for the house and gite. Jean-Francois is a very friendly gentleman. He stopped over several times to share wine or a special prune liquor made by his friend, educating me on how to pick a good bottle of Cote du Rhone for under 5 euros, apparently it's all about the viex vigne (old vine). He's an avid skier and sailor, and may even come and visit us at Valhalla Mountain Touring next winter. Apparently the Mayreste gite is not very popular because it's 8 km from town, meaning you have to drive or do without the morning dose of baguette or croissant that the French seem fairly dependent on. For us, the peace and quiet of being out of town was relaxing; we cooked simple but delicious meals from groceries we stocked up on after climbing. Staying out of town kept us from spending too much money and spending time on the internet - the climbers pub has free wifi. The most unbelievable part was that the studio was costing us 24 euros per night (less than $30 CAD).

The high point of our climbing time at the Verdon Gorge was the route La Fete des Nerfs, which we did on our last day there. The climbing on the 10 pitches of the route is difficult and technical, engaging but reasonably safe. The day we did it was especially entertaining because a posse of young French climbers had strung up a slackline and gigantic rope swing across a 60m wide, 200m deep span near the route and spent the day walking to the middle of the span on the slackline, then swinging with unbelievable abandon through the void.

I am excited to be climbing in Ceuse, but already I am scheming for my return to the Verdon Gorge for more epics, adventures and limestone schooling, and especially for the comfortable, peaceful and unique accommodation of Mayreste to return to at the end of the day.

Topping out

Putting the trad skills to work on La Demande

Very soggy post storm

Another Verdon appoach

Upper pitches on a variation of Pichnebule

Living it up in the gite

Solar powered luxury at Mayreste

Best route of the trip

Whipper Therapy

2010-05-14T09:51:00.004-06:00

This is dispatch #1 from France, where I will be on a climbing vacation with Evan until June. We flew into Paris one week ago and picked up our rental car, a cute and peppy little Opel hatchback, and cruised 7 hours south to the Gorges du Tarn. The main concentration of climbing here is on a collection of limestone crags between the two beautiful medieval villages of Les Vignes and La Malene.

The unfortunate daily rain showers have the upshot of succelent spring vegetation: delicate irises and other wild flowers, cherry and fig trees with unripe fruit bursting from branches hued the freshest green imaginable, feathery pines interspersed with limestone spires and sweeping cliffs descend to the River Tarn, winding a pebbly and playful path through the bottom of the gorge.

Our best accommodation of the trip so far was at the Gite Dardenes in the village of La Malene, where we spent the last 6 nights. The gite is a suite in a medieval stone building in a picturesque and quiet narrow alley way. The suite is quaint, warm and very clean with more than enough amenities to make two aging dirtbags at home: a bedroom, bathroom, hot shower, TV and comfy couch. The walls are decorated with original paintings of the local natural scenery. There is plenty of room to do yoga, and a well outfitted if small kitchen with a toaster oven for warming up breakfasts of croissants or pain au chocolate from the boulangerie two doors down. The gite was pre-booked for the Ascention Day national holiday so we had to leave this morning. I am already missing our warm and cosy little home while I write this from a tiny, sterile and cold mobile-home at a campground close to the climbing. We brought a tent, but with multiple rain showers every day we are opting for a bit of dry, luxury living.

The climbing here is, well, engaging. I am definitley not a bold climber, and am really out of shape after 5 months of not climbing at all. I tend to enjoy a spring sport climbing trip to ease back into the climbing season in a relaxing and fun way, but this trip is more like a sudden and icy plunge. On our first day here I climbed a traversing 7a (5.11d) but couldn't commit to the top moves just below the anchors with a mega pump on, so I downclimbed halfway to the previous bolt and jumped off, thinking it would be good for my head to get in the game. Because of the traversing nature of the route there was a bunch of rope drag and Evan (who outweighs me by 45-50 lbs) couldn't give me a soft catch. I slammed the wall pretty hard, but luckily escaped with nothing worse than a bruised toe and some serious misgivings about lobbing myself off of climbs because its 'sport climbing' and 'clean air'. Since that day I have realized that bigger runouts than I am used to are pretty much de rigeur here at the Gorges du Tarn. The only way I can describe them is dizzying. I clip a bolt, climb and climb and climb, then look up towards the next bolt glistening in the heavens, then look down at the last bolt, a tiny speck on a white and orange wall (if I am lucky, sometimes it is a grey wall of stony knife-blades pointed up towards me). The rope trails out from the knot at my harness like a slack fishing line, swaying slightly in the breeze of my frantic exhalations, and the yawning void beneath pulls me slowly, steadily and determinedly from the rock. Something tells me that this spring trip is going to be all about whipper therapy...

One of the cool medieval villages close to the climbing

I love the fact that this is someone's house, AND they have a satellite dish for TV on the roof (look to the right of the chimney)

The main intersection in La Malene, with untapped rock behind

The village of La Malene, which we called home for 6 nights

The River Tarn

Our cosy gite, looks bigger on the inside, even if Evan had to crawl to get in.... just kidding! Someone's woodshed or root cellar or something!

Womens Crack Technique Clinic - July 10-11, 2010

2010-05-03T17:41:00.007-06:00

I will be teaching a two day Women's Crack Technique climbing course July 10-11 in Squamish. The course is open to women who have some climbing experience who would like to explore techniques and skills that will help you to become a more fluid and efficient crack climber. The course will be top-rope format, with the focus on movement techniques rather than gear placement or technical systems.

The ratio will be four students to one ACMG certified Assistant Rock Guide or Rock Guide. Students will have to provide their own shoes, harnesses, belay devices and helmets. I will provide all other climbing gear.

Investment for the course is $250 for the weekend, which will include a BBQ at my place and some yoga.

If you are interested in a similar course on different dates or a custom climbing course or guided experience, contact me at jasmincaton @ gmail.com.

Womens climbing clinic in Joshua Tree, CA

The Super Tour

2010-02-19T21:43:00.004-07:00

Here in British Columbia the winters are long... especially if you are a bona-fide rock climbing addict like myself. Luckily for me I have the endorphin-producing sport of backcountry skiing to keep my body tired and my mind peaceful during my four or five month annual hiatus from rock climbing. I love backcountry skiing, really I do. But I must admit that it rarely captivates my mind and body to the same degree that climbing does. That said, there are some days, usually only a few per season, where scheduling, weather, snow conditions, avalanche hazard, and a motivated partner all stack up for a really amazing day in the mountains on skis. On January 27 I had one of those days...

I had managed to escape from my winter paradise/prison of Valhalla Mountain Touring, an amazing place to spend a winter, but you know what they say about too much of a good thing. I had three coveted days to tour at Rogers Pass, a sweet bivi with great friends in Revelstoke, but no ski partner! At the 11th hour, my friend Lydia Marmont got in touch and informed me she had time to play. We both agreed that rather than "train" for our upcoming ski exams we would rather take advantage of the primo weather and stability and just go skiing. Lydia hatched the tour plan: up the Illecillewaet Valley, through the Sir Donald-Uto Col onto the Uto Glacier, through a col to the Eagle Glacier which joins onto the Avalanche Glacier, then down Avalanche back down to the highway. The tour was amazing, here's the proof.

Lydia bustin' track up towards the Sir Donald-Uto Col

What ski mountaineering experience would be complete without some facet wallowing?

My partner in crime, Lydia Marmont, at the Sir Donald-Uto Col

Too bad the views sucked

The NW Ridge of Sir Donald, lookin' prime

Hard to tell in this photo, but it looks really cold, dark and scary down there... at least there's a monstrous convex roll and a partially open 'schrund to welcome us onto the Uto Glacier

Lydia carving up the Uto Glacier like it was a turkey

Lydia scopes the line down onto the Eagle Glacier. Our conversation went something like this: Jasmin - "Does it go?" Lydia - "Can't tell." Jasmin - "Well I skied the last run first, so your turn for first tracks!"

Lydia drops in above the Eagle Glacier

View back along the Avalanche Glacier towards Sir Donald and Eagle

Lydia perched at the top of the world before our final descent

Looking into the entrance to our final leg burning 1500m (4900') run to the car

Yay Squamish!

2010-01-22T18:28:00.002-07:00

Ouray Ice fest

2010-01-19T21:29:00.007-07:00

I escaped the false reality of my own private ski touring lodge for a week of ice climbing and socializing at the Ouray Ice Fest in Ouray, Colorado. I arrived in Ouray a few days early to partake in some pre-fest climbing with my friend and celebrated ice climber Caroline George. If you are leery about ice climbing, as I am even after 6 years of dabbling in the sport, you should definitely check out the Ouray Ice Park experience. Top-rope opportunities abound for quality ice and mixed climbs, and you can bang off a bunch of pitches in a few short hours between your morning latte and your 3:00 happy hour cocktail-in-the-hotsprings-naked session. Once the festival began I taught a few clinics and met a ton of cool people. It turns out that ice climbers aren't just nut jobs that get a rush from the screaming barfies and thrusting sharp objects near soft tissue and climbing ropes. In fact, ice climbers have earned heightened status in my worldview because, as it turns out, they can really party. The Guy Lacelle Memorial Super Hero dance party was one of the best nights out I've had in awhile...

The user-friendly Ouray Ice Park

Caroline "Swiss Miss" George giving me a tour of the Ouray Ice Park

This is the real deal... top rope hero Caton rappels in for another lap on WI 3

Super (Canadian) woman Audrey Gariepy cranking in the comp

Arts and crafts aka emergency costume prep at chateau Patagonia

When it comes to ice climbing, I am a tool, a super-tool in fact. Luckily an ice tool is a fundamental part of the ice climbing system

The End....

More ski adventuring

2010-01-10T16:55:00.000-07:00

First Tracks

2009-12-11T11:15:00.002-07:00

The first days out on the snow hurt the legs but soothed the soul. Evan made a little video of our first days out at Valhalla Mountain Touring.

Goodbye Road Trip

2009-12-10T18:53:00.011-07:00

My two month road trip ended in a flurry of climbing, a wedding in New York City, a Patagonia design meeting and a fantastic Thanksgiving with friends in Indian Creek.

A highlight of November was having my best buddy Mandoline Clark take a much needed break from her intense school schedule to meet me in Zion for a week. We climbed Shune's Buttress and Sheer Lunacy in Zion, skinny dipped in the Virgin River and generally caused trouble as usual.

I also dispatched a bit of a lingering climbing project that spilled over from my road trip last fall. Ruby's Cafe is a 12+/13- crack in Indian Creek that likes to chew your fingers up and spit them out unceremoniously. This year I sent with minimal gobies and maximum satisfaction.

Rather than bore you with the details of a whole month of excitement I will pass on the highlights with photos:

Mandoline on p1 of Shune's Buttress

Mandoline jamming splittersville on Shune's Buttress

Offwidth Queen Mandoline "scabby knees" Clark in Zion

Me and Mandoline a.k.a 'les femmebots' matching and psyched on the top of Sheer Lunacy

Family portrait, Evan's expression says it all

California Condor enjoying the scenery, Zion

Kate Rutherford and I on top of Angels Landing, spreading the CO2 gospel

Dickson's Farmstand Meats in Chelsea Market, NYC. Your best source for local, sustainably raised cow, pig and poultry in the big apple. Jacob Dickson, my bro-in-law, presiding.

3 Generations of Stevens: Lee, Marty and Evan.

Evan's version of his sister Jen's wedding in New York

Lynn Hill, maybe you've heard of her? She was my roommate at the Patagonia Design Meeting in Moab. The woman climbs, parties and just is so much harder than I will ever hope to be.

The Rectum, I mean Rectory

Matty Segal trying to weasel his fingers into a mini crack

Jason 'high quality denim' Kruk two beers and one red bull in, getting psyched for whipper thirty on Air Sweden

Who says white men can't jump?

The following photos are actually good... because they were taken by a pro. John Dickey is an old friend and a great photographer and these images are his, taken on an Unnamed 5.11- route at Broken Tooth in Indian Creek.

Moonlight Buttress

2009-10-29T15:01:00.004-06:00

Moonlight Buttress is an 11 pitch route that ascends an imposing red sandstone wall in Zion National Park, Utah. The climb is most popular as an aid route, due to its spectacular aesthetics and the relatively straightforward nature of the aiding. As a free route, Moonlight Buttress offers up pitch after pitch of sustained, quality crack climbing that demands endurance and the ability to writhe up cracks of all sizes, from thin fingers to awkward full-body flares.

The route begins with four ‘approach pitches’ to the business: an insecure and sandy 5.8, a 5.10c with some liebacking through a small roof, a techie 5.11c traverse, and a 5.10d thin flake to face climbing. These pitches spit you out at the infamous ‘Rocker Blocker’, a feature like the Boot Flake on El Cap, the Split Pillar on the Stawamus Chief, and the Harding Slot on Washington Column that exemplify the way climbers have created their own geography and nomenclature for the physical features that have meaning to us. The Rocker Blocker is a completely detached mini-bar sized block that teeters disturbingly on the apex of a blunt tower directly beneath the steep dihedral that comprises the midsection of Moonlight Buttress.

It is at the Rocker Blocker that the free climbing difficulties begin abruptly, with a reachy face climbing sequence and strenuous mantle to sustained finger locks and laybacking. If you are under 5’11” you may want to consider standing on your pack, the rope or a piss-soaked rock poached from behind the Rocker Blocker unless dynoing to sandy crimps is your forte. The next pitch is the technical crux of the route, and unfortunately for the belayer, begins off a steep, hanging stance. Climbers with bigger cajones than me (OK, it’s true, I don’t really have cajones) link the previous pitch into the crux, giving a 180’ super pitch of powerful laybacking with only a few stems and stances for respite. The crux pitch involves steep laybacking up the thin crack through a bulge: big moves between the sausage-finger friendly pinscars, or desperate tips-locks in between, take your pick. Stepping into the bottom of a shallow triangular slot allows a quick shake and a chance for your sweat glands to catch up and really lube things up for the subsequent 10 feet of heinous, flared, graceless groveling. Working out this section left me with some painful raspberries on my biceps and shoulders that several weeks later are still scabby and peeling. At the top of the flare you have to suppress the powerful urge to grab the tat on the three bolt aid climbing anchor and continue up 40’ of 5.11- climbing to the proper free belay under an imposing roof.

Time to pull the roll of tape out of the bullet pack, because from here on up the cruxiest climbing is going to be hard on your fingie skin. Some 5.8 chimneying past a bolt feels pretty reasonable until the chimney opens into a shallow dihedral and once again, it’s all about the laybacking. A long and skinny ledge provides the perfect opportunity for a real rest and a chance to take in the views of the Virgin River winding lazily through stunning rock formations. If you’re lucky like we were, you may even spy a giant California Condor using its 9’ wingspan to surf the updrafts. But don’t get too comfy because the remaining four pitches of the route are still looming overhead. The next section has to be some of the most aesthetic climbing I have ever done. A single finger crack with occasional footholds and shallow corner features splits the dead vertical headwall. The exposure is breathtaking owing to the location of the route on a steep buttress underlain by a roof. Three pitches of tight to rattly finger locks and occasional jugs brings you to the last pitch, where in typical sandstone style, the rock quality begins to deteriorate due to weathering. A few sandy slab moves lead to the summit mantle and a gnarly pine belay.

I first climbed Moonlight Buttress two years ago and performed terribly. My husband Evan ended up leading most of the hard pitches and I spent the whole day feeling intimidated and unworthy of such a route. However, as with most climbing projects, the seed was planted and I hoped that someday I could come back and climb the route in better style. A road trip in Utah this fall and a chance to climb with a committed, motivated and strong female partner allowed me the opportunity I needed. After spending several days working out the route with Jen Olson, we were left with one day before she had to head back to her job as a mountain guide in Canada. We swapped leads on the route, switching order at the crux so I could lead both the crux and the two big-finger pitches (she has pretty, feminine hands, while I have chubby sausage fingers). I whipped off the crux pitch on my first attempt, but lowered off the aid climbing anchor, cleaned my gear, pulled the rope and successfully lead it on my second go. I had previously sent all the remaining pitches, so had the mental advantage of knowing I was capable of climbing them. I held on tight for the rest of the route and managed to send.

Now I am left with one month of my road trip to go before heading back to Canada for the long and chilly ski season. I can only hope that the rest of the trip can offer some more of the high quality climbing and enjoyable adventures that my time on Moonlight provided.

Fall

2009-10-18T10:54:00.006-06:00

The end of summer brought such a dizzying variety of activities and adventures that I hardly know where to begin. I jetted out of Squamish for the last week in August for a few days of quartzite climbing at the Back of Lake Louise along with a week of heavy-duty manual labour at Valhalla Mountain Touring to get ready for the upcoming ski season. The back of the lake schooled me big time, but I enjoyed the chance to learn a bit about climbing a new rock type and managed to get up Scared Peaches, a steep and beautiful 12a crack as well as a few super fun sport routes. Here are some shots from the back of the lake:

Evan milking a rest on the awesome arete, Dew Line 5.11c

Jen Olson on Where Heathens Rage, 12c

I was too busy wielding a shovel, brush saw or other implement of torture to take any photos at VMT. We built a new collection pond on Silveretta Creek for the hydroelectric system, improved the one on Ruby Creek, rebuilt a new house for the turbine and cleaned up the remnants of the old one (the house was pulverized by an avalanche in January), dug a new shitter hole for the staff accommodation (I'll take privacy over a flush toilet even if it has an icy seat!), brushed out the access to the Cariboo ski area, and brought up and stacked a whole winter's worth of firewood for the lodge, sauna and staff cabin. Whew! We even found enough time to pick a few huckleberries.

Following the work party at the lodge, I spent a few days at my Mum's place helping her with her bakery, Manna Organic Microbakery. She was preparing for the Hills Garlic Festival, and I helped her make around 150 croissants from scratch. Half were chocolate filled and half were savory, with roasted garlic, sundried tomatoes, chevre and a mix of herbs from the garden. Yum!

Rolling croissants is hard work

...but the final result is worth it!

Bounty from my Mum's garden

September saw me back in Squamish finishing up the guiding season with a contract for the TREK outdoor program from a high school in Vancouver. Teaching these grade 10 students how to climb involved belay practice on the fence in their school, a viewing of the John Long classic video Rock Climbing Basics (worth it for the spandex and short-short bouldering shots alone), as well as a day in the smoke bluffs in Squamish. A few days of climbing around Squamish and a quick hit of surfing in Tofino with Evan's parents was all we could fit in before the rains began and it was time to head south in The Mountaineer, a small camper for the back of our truck and the newest addition to the family. Before we left I managed to tick The Ghost, a Petrifying Wall gear route that always intimidated me but turned out to be quite safe and super fun.

Benny at Chek, chalked up and ready to send The Fleeing Heifer

First stop on the trip was Smith Rocks, Evan's least favorite place to climb. We spent a two days of climbing on the tuff before we were driven out by a snow storm. I enjoyed (while Evan tolerated) the fun and techie Sunshine Dihedral and Take a Powder. Next it was a heavy 15 hour drive to St. George, where we clipped bolts for three days at the Cathedral Cave, Turtle Wall, and a few pitches in Kolob Canyon. Next stop, Salt Lake City for the American Alpine Club Craggin' Classic. The event involved food, drinks, parties, slideshows, clinics and a great chance to hang with other climbers. It was especially fun for me to reconnect with all the peeps I used to hang with in SLC when I lived there a few years back.

It felt like the road trip truly began when we scooped up our climbing partners Colin Moorhead and Jen Olson, and settled in for 8 days of climbing in Zion N.P. It was so nice to be in one place after so much travel. We even found a great Doggy Dude Ranch for Benny to spend his days while we tackled our multipitch projects.

Inspired by Kate Rutherford and Madeline Sorkin, the first women to free the route in all-female team style, Jen and I were psyched to try Moonlight Buttress. So far we have spent four days on various parts of the climb, including one day top-to-bottom. It's going really well, but tomorrow is our last day on it before Jen has to head back to Canada. That's the way it goes with multipitch projects, there's just no guarantees. Hopefully the heat will back off a little and it will all come together! Moonlight may be one of the most inspiring multipitches I have ever been on, and that's coming from a self-professed granite lover. I just feel so fortunate to have this time to play on such an amazing route.

Me on the crux pitch, just getting into the evil flare section

Jen patiently waiting at the rocker blocker as the 4-team cluster clears outs

Our friend Jesse Huey left us a heartening note on the wall

Jen on the upper headwall

View from high on Moonlight Buttress

Starting up one of the 12a fingers pitches on the upper headwall of Moonlight

Me on the send of the big fingies pitch on the upper headwall

Colin doing some recon using the new guidebook

What happens on rest days...

...stays on rest days!

Multipitch extravaganza

2009-08-26T08:57:00.002-06:00

In the past week I had a brief respite from work and managed to bang out 3 great days of multipitch climbing with three amazing climbing partners.

Here is a video of our time on the Chief....