Climbing Mt. Assiniboine with my Dad

My Dad leaned on his trekking pole and sighed deeply, and I wondered if he might crumble like some of the chossy rock we'd come through on the most recent phase of our seemingly endless approach to mt Assiniboine. We had just completed the infamous Gmoser Highway and were finally within a few hundreds meters of the Hind Hut, but the 30km, 13 hr approach was taking its toll on my Dad. We do a trip together every few summers to celebrate his birthday - he just turned 62 and is super fit, but this kind of effort would tire anyone out.

Enjoying the views on the mostly flat approach

This juvenile ptarmigan posed for us while we rested

Hazard of the hike in

So close yet so far, the view to Mt. Assiniboine from Lake Magog

Cool yellow paintbrushes near Lake Magog

I wondered if the refreshing cans of Kokanee he had treated us to when we made our way past Assiniboine Lodge were actually a bad idea. They certainly tasted good and took the edge off the prospect of continuing up to the hut from Lake Magog, but as the final phase of the day proved to be a bit longer and trickier than we had imagined, perhaps some serious super elite-athlete engineered endurance food and electrolyte beverages might have better prepared us.

We stumbled into the hut and I got to work melting water and getting our dinner going while Dad chilled out. He only balked slightly at my announcement we were going to wake at 5AM for our summit bid on the North Ridge of Assiniboine the next morning.

The Hind Hut

We awoke to a perfect day and beautiful red light on the peaks as we left the hut. Temps were cool in the morning and we slowly but surely made our way up the 1000m ridge. Mostly mellow scrambling with the occasional fifth class pitch through steeper strata brought us to the final ridge and a broad summit where we enjoyed our lunch and relaxed in the sun. The views were incredible - the cold storm a few days prior that had left snow dusting the route had also cleared the air, providing us with unbelievable 365 degree vistas of mountains upon mountains upon mountains. A Peregrine falcon buzzed by and seracs rumbled on the glacier below, reminding us of what a wild place we were enjoying in pure windless comfort and solitude. The trip down was slow but relatively uneventful, with well equipped rappel stations and some loose but manageable scree and down scrambling.

Perfect morning light on the mountain before our climb

Starting out with beautiful light

On the way up!

Getting higher!

Chillin on top

Summit selfie

The next morning the weather was definitely deteriorating, so we convinced ourselves to reverse the long journey to the trailhead in one day, stopping at the lodge to visit some friends who work there after completing the Gmoser highway again - equally as spicy on the way down as it had been on the way up.

We climbed this thing!

The 30km slog out was definitely a grind, and my pack left painful, swollen bruises on my hips. Luckily for me my Dad is one of my favorite people to chat with, so the walk sailed by with us sharing stories about our travels and dreams for the future.

Beautiful columbines 

This Hoary Marmot stopped to say hi when my Dad whistled at him

When my Dad's VW van finally came into view in the parking lot, he opened the door and pulled an ice cold 6 pack from fridge and cracked one for each of us. We clinked cans and took long swigs and congratulated each other on a great adventure. I have been so lucky to travel all over the world to climb and go on exotic adventures from Italy to Greenland. I've ridden in helicopters to get to remote regions that cost many thousands of dollars and weeks of preparation to visit. But this trip with my Dad required only one day of perfect weather, two pairs of legs that were willing to go the distance, and a Westfalia fridge full of cold ones to celebrate a successful mission. And it was the best climb of my summer so far.

NOTHING tastes better than this

Scramblin' around the Sierras with Spoodle and Beater

I have known Rich Wheater (AKA the Beater) and Senja Palonen (AKA the Spoodle) since my very first summer of rock climbing in Squamish. We were introduced by a mutual friend one morning at Starbucks (back then everyone hung out there to find a climbing partner in the morning) and they invited me to join them on a mission to climb Sunblessed on the backside of the Chief. Sunblessed was reputed to have a five star second pitch of 5.10a crack climbing. Rich and Senja were kind enough to let me, a climber of a mere few months, lead this amazing pitch using their rack, and it was one of the most memorable days my first climbing season. 

Since that summer day in Squamish over 12 years ago I have shared numerous climbing adventures with Rich and Senja. Wherever Rich and Senja are you will also find lots of laughing, great food, plentiful cocktails and great stoke for climbing, so generally I like to be where they are. I have chased them down in Thailand, Red Rocks, American Fork, Indian Creek, Yosemite, Skaha, Horne Lake and many crags in between. They may not be the first people to roll out of bed in the morning, but they are almost always the last ones to leave the crag in the afternoon. Don't be fooled by their casual demeanour, these two get shit done. Senja holds down a real job in the city and prances up Squamish testpieces like The Shadow on the weekends. Rich is an extremely accomplished adventure photographer. They both trail run and mountainbike like fiends. 

Getting invited to join them for a week of fun in the Sierras was a perfect chance to escape the June blahs in Squamish and although we didn't get after anything really hard, we certainly kept busy and enjoyed some extremely classic cold beers, margaritas, gourmet burritos... oh and a few SPECTACULAR Sierra granite routes. 

Objective #1: Matthes Crest

This climb is basically a hike to a long horizontal scramble back to a hike. The main appeal is the amazing geometry of the feature you are climbing along. The highlight of the route was definitely the overhanging rock cornice on the final section, which is much wilder than my photos indicate.

Morning light on Budd Lake, en route to Matthes Crest. 

Beater and Spoodle and a whole lotta Sierra air 

Senja spies out her route options on the Matthes Crest. 

Top of the North Summit - Woop!

Although many parties descend off the North Summit, we chose to continue along the ridge for the full experience. 

And good thing we did, otherwise we would have missed this rock cornice which was the coolest part!

As far as I am concerned, nothing beats a fun day of scrambling on great rock in a setting like this!

Objective #2: Positive Vibrations on the Incredible Hulk

Climbing on the Incredible Hulk has been on my hit list for years. After climbing it himself, Evan described Positive Vibes as being like "doing the Grand Wall in the alpine." How could I not want to do that??? I don't know if I'd use quite that analogy. The Hulk has a deliciously more alpine feel than the Chief (maybe because it's at 10,000' and has a 2.5 hour approach?). 

Incredible hulk imitations at the start of the approach. 

Beautiful flowers on the approach. 

It was a dream to finally get to play on this inspiring and gorgeous hunk of rock. We hiked in late the day after climbing Matthes Crest with enough supplies to stay for a few days. Senja and I started off by climbing Positive Vibes. It was a stellar route and a super fun day. Most of the climbing was around 5.9 or 5.10, with two distinct sections of 5.11-. The pitches were long and the biggest challenge was staying warm and relaxed with the strong winds blowing all day. Even when the sun hit us I needed to keep on all my layers (capilene long johns under my climbing pants, a tank, a merino tshirt, an R1 fleece and a nano puff hoody). 

First night at our cosy camp. Senja Palonen photo. 

The first 5.11a move of the route is on the third pitch. A technical step-across move.  Senja Palonen photo. 

Senja follows the 6th pitch, a long one with the other 5.11a crux right at the end.

The amazing crack riddled headwall of the 7th pitch. The biggest challenge proved figuring out which splitter to follow! When in doubt, go straight up the middle.

The Hulk is pretty classic in the sense that when the hard climbing is over, you are not even close to the summit. This sections is especially time consuming when it's your first time up the route. There is a fair bit of routefinding and 4th or easy 5th manuvering to get to the final two 5.8 pitches to the summit.  

Coiling up the rope on the top of the 8th pitch for some simul climbing. Senja Palonen photo. 

Sun, moon and spires. 

Summit selfie. Can you see my soul glowing? It is. I love this shit!

Senja blissing out on the summit. You can tell the wind died down because she actually took off her hoods. 

Although we had intended to stay and climb longer in the Hulk, the cold wind had really taken it out of us, so after a restful bivi and a leisurely morning we decided to hike out and seek some more sheltered digs for a few days.

Objective #3: Speed of Life and cragging at Tioga Crag

Thumbing through the guidebook and perusing Mountain Project kept revealing a super-starred route called Speed of Life. It's only 2 pitches and has a steep 45 minute approach. Not such a great suffering to sending ratio, but I was keen to check out the second pitch which is an 5.11b overhanging wide hands to fingers splitter. When I opened the van door at the parking area it was very nearly ripped off. The winds were howling from the west and our only hope was that the northeast facing wall would be sheltered. We slogged uphill and forged a mini-schrund to access the base. Immaculate lazer cut granite cracks lead skyward. It looked amazing and was sheltered (enough) and almost warm (enough). I don't have any pics of the route, but Rich shot the second pitch so at some point I may have a few shots to share.  We capped off the day with a few pitches of quality sport climbing at the Tioga Cliff.

Objective #4: Third Pillar of Dana

Senja needed a rest day and had already climbed this route with another friend earlier on the trip, so Rich and I embarked on a mission to climb this Sierra classic. The winds were even stronger than the day before, but once again we were banking on shelter on the east facing route.

Fully bundled up on the approach to the Third Pillar of Dana. Rich Wheater photo. 

Nice views of Mono Lake. Not a bad hunk o' granite in the foreground. 

Rich spies out our descent to the start of the route. 

The Third Pillar of Dana approach is rather round about in the sense that you hike up to a plateau, cross the plateau and then descend down to the base of the route, climb out, hike back across the plateau and then descend back down the other side. Whew, even typing that sentence made me tired! The approach is actually really chill overall, with great terrain for walking and lots of views of mountains and gorgeous flora to keep you occupied should your climbing partner be an overcaffeinated, trail running, mountain goat of a man. All was going great on the final descent to the base of the route, we had found an easy way through some more exposed 3rd and 4th class terrain at the top and were cruising in some slightly loose but easy going mixed talus and scree. The last thing I remember (this is true!) was Rich joyfully uttering the words,  "against all odds Beater and Spazzmine (that's his nickname for me) send the Third Pillar of Dana".  Suddenly a rock shifted underfoot and my world was flipped upside down and then back rightside up and then upside down again. I was literally out of control-ragdoll-cartwheel tumbling down the gully. I came to a stop after two cartwheels and sat up dazed. Rich yelled "holy shit Jas are you OK?". I managed to get out a feeble "yes" and began to give myself a bit of a head to toe. I had a bad feeling about what might lie beneath a big tear in the shin area of my pants, but it was nothing but a bad scrape.  I can still hardly believe I escaped from what was certainly my worst alpine tumble ever with only a few bruises and a sore shoulder. Given the terrain it could have been much worse.

We continued down the descent. I moved a bit slower, still reeling from a big dose of adrenaline. Luckily the high quality of the climb cured my jitters almost instantly.

Approaching the base of the Third Pillar of Dana. 

Rich trying to kill me on this guillotine of rock that hangs straight above the belay. 

Enjoying some absolutely impeccable granite of the last pitch.

Rich kicking up his heels with joy on the last pitch. Such an awesome route!

 Objective #6: Pull with my arms more, push with my legs less (a day of cragging at Lover's Leap)

After so much hiking and minimally challenging climbing we were all worried our arm muscles might be atrophying. A day of harder cragging was in order, and it would set us up well to deliver me to my flight home to Squamish from Reno. We spent a lovely day of climbing amazingly featured rock at Lover's Leap. My shoulder was pretty sore from my tumble, so only did a few pitches. I loved all of them and I can't wait to go back for more!

Rich starts up Tombstone Terror, an awesome 5.10+ dihedral.  

Senja cranks up R.I.P., a cool and difficult 5.11+ face. 

It was an action packed week of adventure with Beater and Spoodle in California. I didn't work on my tan as much as I would have liked due to the windy conditions, but I certainly felt like I was in the mountains. Being welcomed along on this trip by Rich and Senja was yet another reminder that the community I have found through climbing is by far the greatest gift this crazy sport has tossed my way.

Summer 2013 Rock Programs

Winter went by in a blur. No skiing blog posts for me this winter for a variety of reasons, but don't you worry, there was over-the-head powder, flowy carving, playful airs, amazing views, black nights covered in piercing stars, belly laughs, unbelievably delicious sandwiches enjoyed while perched on ridge tops, lodge dance parties and all the other elements that make my busy winter job so worthwhile.

I intend to make a post about a few of the winter's highlights, but in the meantime want to get the word out about a few rock programs I am running this summer and am really excited about.

June 22-23: Crack Technique Weekend. 2 days, Squamish granite, finger tips to chimneys and everything in between. Get dialed before the summer is in full swing. $300 for the two day clinic.

Lydia Zamorano and I had so much fun running a women's climbing and yoga weekend last year that we are running two similar programs this August.

August 10-11 will be in Lake Louise on beautiful quartzite, with yoga held a short distance from the crags at the Lake Louise Hostel.

August 17-18 will be in Squamish on perfect granite, with yoga in The Yoga Studio.

In addition, I will be offering private guiding and customized courses on request. Drop me an email at jasmincaton@gmail.com to chat about your climbing goals and we can set something up. 

The Big Stone with the Big Guy

The Big Stone and The Big Guy

It is day 1 on Freerider. I am attempting this 35 pitch free route on El Cap with my husband Evan. Things are going well so far. I have successfully sent the 5.11 down climb and traverse into the Hollow Flake, a 5.8 offwidth. The bottom of the offwidth goes smoothly, but as I climb higher , the #6 BD Camalot that I am walking with me no longer fits and I am looking at my rope going sideways for 50'. No problem. It's 5.8. I can just dig my body in a little deeper, use my own flesh as protection. Now I am dug in so deep I can't move upwards. I am sweating, it is really hot. I loosen myself from the gaping crack to smear and scrape flesh as I scrabble a few inches summitward. Knees are bleeding. Elbows are bleeding. I may or may not bellow with effort (OK I do... ungirlishly, primally, I only wish I could forget). Evan calls up from the belay, wants to know how it's going. I may or may not have moved in the last 15 minutes. I discover a technique that involves pinching the flake between my thighs. It really hurts my pubic bone but I do it anyway. I just want to be done. I am really hating this. I am covered in dried tears and blood. I pull onto the ledge, haul the pack, put Evan on belay. No celebrating this send. It is 5.8 and the first offwidth of the Freerider. Things are not looking good.

Thoughts of THE MONSTER threaten to trundle my calm over the brink. THE MONSTER is a 5.11 offwidth looming a few pitches above us and is the only hard pitch we haven't sussed out on TR. I try to focus on the pitches at hand. All 5.10 and easily dispatched, before you know it we are at THE MONSTER. We have decided for fairness that we would each lead a section of THE MONSTER, utilizing the optional bolted belay half way up it to tag each other out. Evan gets the first pitch and floats it, even though he's more nauseous with nerves than I've ever seen him. I'm so proud watching him that it hurts. Soon enough I'm hurting in a much less enjoyable way as I follow the pitch. Cool and pumpy underclings traverse you into the crack and then it's chickenwings galore, armbars for dessert. No fancy stacks. No pretty butterflies. No jamming your knee in this gaping maw. I shimmy up, try to wedge my butt in. It sticks enough. I reach the belay happy and bleeding and desperately grateful for my Anasazi Velcro Hi-tops protecting my ankle bones and a neoprene knee pad my friend Jesse Huey donated for our ascent. Now it is my turn. There are moments of progress. A tough spot slows me down and I seem to be climbing in circles: wiggle up, slide down, wiggle up, slide down. I swear I am greasing the inside of the crack with sweat and blood. I focus on the stance rest above me and somehow get there. Meters above, I am stopped in my tracks. I climb up, desperately, determinedly, but as soon as I stop struggling my body slithers back down the crack. I am not scared but I CAN NOT seem to get past this spot. After trying and trying I give up. Pull on gear. Get to the top and belay Evan up. He struggles on TR but sends. We do the final pitch to The Alcove, the ledge where we will stay for the next 3 nights while we climb the rest of the route. I am exhausted and bonking. My obsession with drinking water eclipses any disappointment I have in myself. I am so thirsty, so done. Food helps and I sleep like a log. Early the next morning I go back down and reclimb the second pitch of the Monster by headlamp. The cool temps, rested muscles and a pair of Patagonia stretchy corduroy pants seem to help. It doesn't feel easy but it feels solid. We can move upwards.

Following Evan up the first half of the Monster, wishing my knees were fatter or my ass was skinnier. 

First night at the Alcove, before food and water raised my spirits.

If I included every struggle, every tear, every success and failure of our journey up Freerider this would be a really long, really boring, really humiliating post. This adventure had all the elements that makes climbing an El Cap route such an amazing experience: sleeping on the edge of a 2000' drop, shitting into a bag mere meters away from your partner while they try to focus on something else, anything else, wearing your harness for days on end and slowly becoming immune to exposure. The climbing on the route (even the offwidths) is super high-quality and Evan and I found ourselves to be a great team. I excelled on the technical slab and flared crack pitches, Evan charged on the big moves and wide cracks, and we both revelled in the sections of crack-climber's dream of steep, exposed cracks way off the deck. When one of us was struggling, the other took the lead and we both inspired the other to try harder at various points during the climb.

Sweaty chickenwings on the Monster and desperate palm pressing on the Teflon Corner leaves it's mark. 

Modelling my El Cap(ilene) leisure suit for Walker and Elliot at the Alcove.  We got to share lots of laughs with these two guys who were climbing the route at the same time. 

Elliot and Waker brought travel scrabble, so Evan and I had a match at the Alcove.  For a guy who favours cell phone video games over books he sure can lay down a mean scrabble turn. 

Every evening this magic orange glow would hit El Cap right before dark.

Life on a ledge. 

After a month of not climbing before I headed to the valley, my ambitions for sending Freerider were pretty low. I was psyched for the experience of climbing on El Cap but intimidated enough by the wide cracks and valley climbing in general that I was unattached to the outcome. When we began our efforts to climb the route, which began days before starting up the climb, I was truly relishing the experience of it. It felt great to get a cardio workout hiking to the top of El Cap with a heavy pack to bring food and water we needed for the climb to the Alcove. Sleeping in the warm California air on the granite slabs up there with no one around and a sky full of stars was unbelievably perfect.

Hiking food and water to the top of El Cap was actually really fun (when I was high on exercise induced endorphins) and an awesome workout (oh great, my legs muscles grew)

My Scotty Burke Crack (a 5.10 offwidth near the top) practice outfit. 

Pretty grand place for a late-evening toprope session (almost as good as Penny Lane in the Smoke Bluffs)

Hanging out on top of El Cap while we sussed out the upper part of the route was blissful -  more like being in the Bugaboos than Yosemite! 

Full moon, campfire, suddenly this is seeming like a "REAL" vacation!

Our motto for our time in the valley was "one day at a time", and once we began up Freerider it morphed into "one pitch at a time". After a hectic and stressful month of work at our backcountry lodge we were determined to have fun and not let climbing ambitions, ego or bickering get in the way of what we desperately needed - some fresh air, hard exercise and pure fun together. We got what we needed and we were overall pretty happy with how we climbed too, which was a bonus. I would love to do the route in better style - after we fell leading the crux pitch and one other pitch on the route we both toproped them clean but things didn't work out for us to get back on them and lead them clean. I really want a chance to get back on the route and do it again in a few less days and in better style, but as a great poet once said, "you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you get what you need". I definitely got what I needed out of my time on El Cap with Evan this fall. When we pulled our bruised and tired bodies over the rim at around 1PM on day 4, we snapped a couple of pics and just sat there for a good 20 minutes. As we snacked and watched the ravens play in the wind I was stunned by gratitude for the amazing life I have and the fact I can share adventures with someone who simultaneously pushes and supports me. All too soon it was time to begin the huge rappel back down El Cap to collect our bivi gear and empty water bottles. As I dropped over the edge I had the distinct feeling that I wasn't going to be staying away from the top of El Cap for long.

On the top! We are REALLY PSYCHED! 

Sorting gear and dumping the poop tube... it's all a part of the Big Wall fun!

Thoughts of winter creeping in...

My friends and fellow Squamish residents Tobin Seagel and Chris Christie visited us at Valhalla Mountain Touring for some turns last January. Tobin is a rippin' skier and Chris is a talented outdoor adventure photographer, and neither of them let the fact that they have real jobs get in the way.

Giving Tobin the tour of my winter back yard. 

Tobin wrote an article about his time with us... read it here:

http://www.doglotion.com/essays/real-deal-valhalla-mountain-touring