Will Stanhope

New Website/ Blog...

2011-12-16T16:59:00.000-08:00

Hi everybody,

I know its been a bit of a push since I wrote anything. After the Prophet mission it was straight to China with Matt Segal, John Dickey and Lauren Callaway. And, since I've been home, I've been tinkering away on a new website: www.willstanhope.com Thanks a tonne to Gary Foster for helping me with this. Its not quite done, but on the way there... Just about all of my old blog posts are on the new site. So if you could update your links that would be much appreciated.

Happy holidays from rainy North Vancouver!

Superhero Sonnie

2011-11-12T09:49:00.000-08:00

Superhero Sonnie enjoying a gentleman's smoke on a ledge. As Mike Pennings once said, "You can't put a price on morale." If having a smoke is good for morale, then its a good idea. ;)

Sonnie and I are still fooling around on the Prophet. Trotter is leading the charge. I think it’s really interesting to look at how the very best trad climbers operate on the sharp end. I would put Sonnie in a really small group of people I’ve climbed with that are truly built for hard, scary rock climbing. Skill plays a huge part. Strength plays a huge part. But an innate positivity is the biggest factor, I think. When the house of cards begins to collapse for me, I start losing the optimistic edge, and everything seems to spiral towards negativity. If one foothold breaks, I start thinking all the footholds are going to break. It might stem from the accident this spring, feeling a little more rattled than usual. But it could also be that this route is just damn-hard and scary, standard setting in boldness. Sonnie maintains a consistent ‘Sunny-side-up’ disposition. He might back down for a day or a week, but he never gives up.

I’ve learned alot from watching him. I’d also put Alex Honnold in that small club of guys that I’m not stressed out belaying on 5.13R. I am attentive, but not worried for them. I guess it comes down to total faith that they’ll make good decisions.

Giving up is like a warm blanket. So tempting to give in, call it a day, admit defeat. Put it off for another day, another trip... Far more difficult to step into the fray again, to push a little farther. So, tomorrow I think we’ll try again from the ground. Then take a day off and try the route in a two day push. I absolutely have to fly out on Nov 17. I’ve already pushed back a trip to China by ten days.

Even if this line doesn’t go down this trip, I will certainly be back.

Heismanned!

2011-11-09T12:10:00.000-08:00

This spring, my good friend Jesse Huey introduced me to the 'Heisman.' The Heisman Trophy is an American College Football award for the most valuable player. The trophy has a player with an arm outstretched, basically saying, "Step back!" Jesse explained to me and my friend Charlie that lots of things in life can 'Heisman' you. Girls can Heisman you. A truck with engine trouble can Heisman you on your drive to work. A Yosemite Ranger can Heisman you for trying to smuggle a beer into the Cafeteria (that Heismanning can often come with a good-natured Tasering...) Yesterday Sonnie and I were Heismanned on pitch 5 of the Prophet, known as the Screamer Pitch.

By this point we have been in California for about a month. We've spent many days rapping into the top of the Prophet trying the A1 beauty and Devils Dyno Pitches. We've also done a few ground up pushes attempting the lower pitches. Sonnie and I had briefly considered rappelling in to attempt the Screamer Pitch on toprope. Leo makes the pitch out to be terrifying in the article he wrote about the route. But in the end we decided to give it a go from the ground, like the Brits had done in 2001. With a solid three day weather window, we packed up, and began our fourth ground up effort on the Prophet.

Sonnie polished off pitch 4, entitled 'Not Gay', easily. I nervously racked up for the Screamer, which follows a grotty corner, then hops over an arete into no-mans land. This part of El Cap is extremely loose and crumbly: its sorta like the rock is alive, with stacked blocks and sharp edges everywhere. Everything about the position is whacky, and everything was telling me that this was a sketchy place to go rock climbing.

I crept up the corner, putting in small cams, gingerly weighting the friable feet. I didn't want to weight any of the gear, even though it was probably adequate. I just didn't know- the back of the back of the crack was spitting sand and everything was creaking a bit. I eventually made it to one of Leo's old DMM nuts shoved sideways in some sandy alcove, and spied up the crux sequence. By this point my nerves were shot, and I lowered off to let Sonnie try. He backed up the wobbly nut and shoved in a few more pieces of pro. Then he crept out towards the arete, popping off three footholds in the process. He eventually clipped another one of Leo's old nuts- this time a 00 micro. He eventually lowered off. I tried again. Both of us were too wigged out to commit to the blind sequence around the arete.

In the end, we are happy we went from the ground and attempted those lower pitches in the style of the first ascentionists. But in the end, we fell short of Leo's boldness. Which is okay, I guess. A special extra-something was required- maybe a bit of calculated craziness- but we didn't have it yesterday, and I'm not sure I'll ever have it. What I do think is that those original ground up efforts in 2001 were the high-water mark of bold climbing on El Cap. I have never come across a pitch so unnerving. I think the next time we try it we will come in top down. But time has a way of pacifying nerves, and I'll have to mull it over with Mr. Trotter with some fine scotch. ;)

But for now, another storm is coming in, and it might be game over for the season. Time will tell.

Moments of Uncertainty

2011-10-31T12:14:00.001-07:00

Sonnie, Paul and I just spent 4 days on top of the Prophet tooling around on the upper pitches. Every once in a while I have little moments of "wow, this is awesome!"- climbing the A1 beauty in the dying light, with the whole wall ignited orange, was one of those moments. Sonnie managed to toprope it clean, and I came really close. Then we spent some time throwing ourselves at the 'Devils Dyno', a gigantic 7.5 foot sideways leap to a sidepull flake. After many, many tries I stuck the move. I was ecstatic. Leo is an exceptional dynamic climber (his nickname is Springer). Sonnie figured out a ballistic V10 crimping variation instead.

I like this photo because it captures that moment of uncertainty with big wall freeclimbing. Mulling over sequences, tinkering away, all in the coolest place imaginable.

Check out www.paulbride.com to see more amazing images from one handsome Italian man. ;)

Yosemite

2011-10-08T12:05:00.000-07:00

Sonnie and I have been in Yosemite for a few days now. We've been fooling around on the top of El Cap, rapping in and inspecting the upper A1 beauty pitch of the Prophet. Leo Houlding and Jason Pickles established the route last year, ending a 9 year quest. First of all, I'd like to say that this pitch is truly hard and insecure. Sending this one is going to be real tough. It's easily the most powerful low-angle pitch I've ever attempted. Extremely fingery, balancy and painful. But aside from the struggles associated with it, the A1 beauty is a real joy to climb on: a curvy, laser cut splitter a stone's throw from the top of the Captain.

I came pretty close to freeing the Arch project in Squamish in early September, but in the end fell short. But I feel like I've got my fighting spirit back, after months of rehab and fear of falling. A big thanks to Sonnie and Scott Milton for trudging back there day after day to belay and film the struggle. Its so critical to have good friends' support when you're trying a pitch at your limit with a potentially hazardous fall.

The temperatures are perfect in Yosemite right now. And we will head back up tomorrow, to resume working the pitch. One of the coolest things about climbing is that we get to try these routes in the most jaw-dropping positions. Way better than playing badminton on an identical court, time after time. WAY better. ;)

Hope everybody's have a great fall.

September Heat Wave

2011-09-12T10:32:00.000-07:00

Its September 12th and it feels like mid-August here in Squamish. I've been guiding lots in the hot sun. The Arch project is on hold for now- and though I'd love to finish it up, it may have to wait for next spring. I'm very excited for an upcoming Yosemite Valley trip with Sonnie Trotter in October.

In other news, check out the new issue of Explore Magazine if you'd like to read a profile about me. JB MacKinnon wrote the piece. JB is an exceptional writer. He wrote a piece about the Grand Wall for Explore years ago that Jason Kruk and I absolutely loved. I feel like I learned something about myself from reading this profile. It focuses on climbing, risk and the fine line between boldness and recklessness. I think that, on the whole, the media glamorizes risk-taking too much, and fails to paint the complete picture of it all. I like JB's piece because it shows the flip side of the coin, along with some sharp third-person perspective on the game I play.

I feel like companies need to be very careful about how they portray risky climbing in advertisements. Seeing a full-page ad of someone soloing, with no caveat or background, is a bit irresponsible. Kids, just getting into climbing, don't see the calculated boldness behind these feats; they only see the RAD factor. Yes, its up to everyone to make their own decisions. But I feel like we could do a bit better in helping younger people see what goes into those bold climbs. Maybe I'm just feeling a bit more responsibility as I get older.

Explore Magazine has named me Canada's 'Top Outdoor Athlete' under 30, which is really flattering. Thanks guys- I really appreciate it. I don't quite know if I deserve that tag, but I am grateful nonetheless.

Below is a few snaps from the summer.

Wobbly pop on the top of the Chief at Sonnie's stag party. Congrats my friend on tying the knot with Lydia! Very happy for you. Neel Parikh photo.

After climbing the Squamish Buttress with my Dad for his Fathers Day present. Rob hadn't climbed in a long time, but luckily possesses boatloads of "old-man strength."

Getting baked by the sun while repeating an obscure Guy Edwards' 12a at Skaha during the Skaha Climbers Festival. Rest in peace, Guy.

Adrian None photo.

A Wet Summer

2011-07-15T11:51:00.000-07:00

Its been a long wet spring and the summer really hasn't kicked off yet. My friends Matt Segal and John Dickey have made the trek up north and its been great chilling with those boys. Matt and I have done many mission, put back more than a few wobbly pops, and climbed loads of pitches together. The last time he was up here we were hanging the late Micah Dash, and Matt climbed the Cobra Crack. I belayed him, then we drank a bottle of Kokanee outside the Liquor Store with Hazel Findlay. When I look back at that picture it seems like decades ago. So much has changed.

Matt is a constant source of energy... almost feverish maniacal energy... But it stokes me up. He's a real bud, the type that Skypes you from Nepal when you can't walk and are in a dark hole.

I got a chance to show my Arch Project to Matt. I first tried this line in 2008 after I got a tip from Zack Smith that it was doable. There was one move that I couldn't do back then, then I revisited it last year and did all the moves. The key to the puzzle was unlocked. On my best bid I one-falled it on lead. I sorta felt that it was on the ropes for a send this spring... then I broke bones in the UK, and just walking around the block with Elsa the dog was a major accomplishment. Setbacks. But that's all part of the game. Its not a question of whether or not you'll get injured. It happens. Its a question of how you deal with it. You gotta move on and bounce back.

Pops after the Cobra.

Contemporary shot of Segal. John Dickey photo.

One day this war is going to be over.... Ryan Olson Photo.

Back at it

2011-06-19T10:55:00.000-07:00

Paul Bride shot: don't steal. www.paulbride.com

I have been on a roof crack kick as of late. Here's a shot of me scrambling the Whistler 500, north of Chek. This 12b was established in 1987 by either Keith Reid or Hamish Fraser, two old-school crushers. Keith is the President of the ACMG, which lends significant 'cool factor' to the organization. Keith, celebrated ski ballerina, is responsible for loads of testpieces in the Sea to Sky Corridor, and mostly goes by the moniker KFR. Hamish went ground-up where no others had gone before, and came away with a ticklist of some seriously fearsome routes.

Kercous, famous dog of Squamish, recently turned 14, which is very old for a golden retriever. Above is a shot of the golden prince and I enjoying a gentleman's measure of Famous Grouse in celebration of the big milestone.

I was down in Yosemite for a while, hanging out, trying to relearn how to walk and climb again. It was a cool trip. Charlie Long and I rattled down there in his Mazda B2200, which has no suspension and goes approximately 90 KM per hour, max. It took a while. But it was well worth it to see the old El Capitan again. Just being down there, even if I'm not in top form, really fires me up. Call me cosmic and strange- I don't care- but that place has a special energy.

Some inspiring things as of late: Hayden "Cougar Bait" Kennedy and Jason "Spirit Bear" Kruk put in a real impressive bid on the North Twin in the Canadian Rockies. The North Twin is no joke- absolutely gigantic and loose- and the boys came close to sending. Just saddling up to that objective is nothing to scoff at. Its the sort of face that nightmares are made of. Also, Alex Honnold soloed the Phoenix, which is ballistic. Kudos, my friends.

Ripping the Parthian Flake

2011-05-14T13:58:00.000-07:00

Moments before impact. Simon Wilson photo- don't steal.

Si's website: http://www.simonwilsonmedia.co.uk/SW_PicturesHome.html

Two months ago I ripped off the flake on Parthian Shot, at Burbage South in the Peak District. Tim Emmett, trusted friend and well-known British climber, belayed me, and eventually piggy-backed me down the trail. Thanks to everyone who lent a hand that evening- I really do appreciate it. I haven't put anything on the blog about it until for a couple reasons. Basically, other things in life derailed me for a bit, and I didn't want to revisit the experience.

But, here's the rundown for all those interested.

I had spent a few days on the gritstone previously and was eager to try a real 'hard grit' line. And Parthian didn't dissapoint. Incredible movement on a wild prow, very physical and delicate at the same time. As many of you know, the main gear is a string of wires and one small cam in the flake, which is at a little over half height.

Tim and I fooled around on the line all afternoon, dialing in the nuances and getting a feel for it. I one falled it on toprope. At that point I decided I would try to lead it. My friends Alex Honnold, Matt Segal and Kevin Jorgenson all took multiple wingers onto the flake. While I knew it wasn't 100 percent bomber, I thought it was more or less okay. There's always the unknown factor with headpointing. The element that makes is so exciting and dangerous at the same time.

I waited until sunset, tied in, climbed to the flake and wasted tonnes of energy getting the gear just right. Perhaps it wasn't 'just right'. I don't know. I hung on the gear, wondering what to do. It was getting dark. Finally, I decided to just punch it to the top. If I was ever going to have a hope in hell of successfully leading the pitch, I needed to know what it felt like to go for it above the flake.

As I climbed higher I got a deep pit-in-my-stomach feel that something wasn't right. The superstitious feeling came too late, though- I was way above the flake without a hope of downclimbing. The next thing I knew I was on the ground, spitting blood, struggling to breathe. I tried to weight my left foot, but I immediately knew it was broken. It felt like the bones were swimming. I suspect I fell somewhere between 35- 40 feet.

After Tim gave me a jarring piggy-back to the gravel trail (I had cracked a vertebrae, but thought it was just whiplash). Then the Mountain Rescue people came and took me to the ambulance. Again, thanks so much to everyone for the help.

I've spent the last couple months trying to comes to terms with the accident. Many hours behind the wheel, driving, trying to come up with a bumper-sticker slogan to slap onto the whole miserable affair. But I have nothing. No 'take home lesson', no moral. There's a thousand little decisions that lead up to any accident, and I wish I could pinpoint where it all went wrong. If anything, I've concluded that my headspace wasn't up to snuff for hard grit climbing that day. I wish I could have recognized that, and taken a step back. All I know is that was a monstrous digger, and I got really, really lucky.

Here's a quote that I like by Steve House. He's talking about the North Twin in the Canadian Rockies, but I can relate. I love Steve's writing so much.

"Learn something from our climb if you will, but you might be better off without the knowledge. I'm not advocating that you ignore the lessons of the past, but neither can you allow yourself to be chained by the weight of what happened before you. Don't limit yourself by mythologizing the past...

Today might be your day. Go."

I don't know why I like that quote so much. It reminds me of being a teenager, and trying hard, legendary routes in Squamish that had big reputations. Maybe because it encapsulates the randomness of it all- that 'you never know until you try' adage. Therein lies the moral, perhaps: what I learned in the UK can't be gleaned from an article, or a blog post. It only comes from experience, the harshest teacher of all.

I'm rambling... time to go ride the stationary bike and do my foot exercises.... :)

A drive-about

2011-04-26T11:40:00.000-07:00

Beer pong natural Alex Honnold gets involved with the locals, Columbus Ohio. If Alex loses, he has to drink that entire blue cup of Ginger Ale.

I just got back from a trip to Colorado to visit some friends. From there, I flew to Ohio to do a slideshow for the Ohio State Mountaineers. Thanks to Natalie, Jared and Sara for putting that together. I had never been to the midwest before. Everybody seemed really stoked to get out and go climbing. Good to see the midwest enthusiasm.

Jared and I after breakfast the morning after the beer pong tournament. A little hungover.

Crutching onstage to give the slideshow.

Sobering thoughts outside of Laramie, Wyoming :)

Sunset.

Whatever Happened

2011-03-23T08:46:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5tGThVDR7o

Well, the Strokes have released their fourth album. I'm happy about that.

Like Julian said, "Its more important what you do than when you do it."

In other news, I've broken my talus bone and cracked a vertebrae in my neck. Like Julian, I'm more concerned about healing quality than healing time. If everything goes well I'll be taking it easy this summer, then perhaps turning up the volume in the autumn.

I will go into details later about the accident. All I will say now is that it involved England, the Sheffield Hospital, and a rugged flight home with a bottle of Laphroiag single malt scotch and lots of painkillers. My buddy Leo, who broke his talus bone on Cerro Torre, said this was also a common injury for Spitfire pilots in World War II.

I drove down to Smith Rock a couple days ago to hobble around the cliffs, try to clear my head. The crutch down to the dihedrals took a good half hour. On the long trudge out, some kid tailed me for a while, peppering me with questions about how I broke myself. Please leave me alone, I thought. Then, after about 5 minutes, he said, "It looks like you need to find Jesus." It made me smile.

Its good to smell the Juniper again.

Grit trip

2011-02-26T13:59:00.000-08:00

In a few days I'll be off on another trip, this time to the the gritstone edges of England. I am very excited about this one. My friend Jeremy Blumel will accompany me for most of it. I've climbed with Jeremy a lot, and he and I share a similar infatuation with movement on rock. A real climber's climber, with ballerina footwork and vice-strong fingers. Hopefully I'll be able to pry Hazel away from her studies to come join us too.

Josh Wharton, Whit Magro and Nate Opp just sent huge in Patagonia, completing a much sought-after free link up: Desmochada, to the La Silla, to Fitzroy. This was a pipe dream of loads of climbers (myself included). I can't see the prize going to a more deserving team.

Jason Kruk and I climbed Desmochada back in 2008. The razor-sharp granite was punishing on that peak, but it still stands as one of the best adventures I've experience. Onsighting steep rock, on such a wild peak, provided a strong cocktail of adrenaline. At the top, in a burgeoning storm, I felt my first tinges of frantic summit fever, while wedged in an icy chimney. Jason said, "Calm the fuck down!" and I slowed a bit, taking extra care. We topped out just as white clouds engulfed the Torre valley, rapped all night, got ropes stuck, and staggered back to camp completely worked. That was a mission I'll never forget.

I've taken a couple years off from Patagonia recently. The peaks down there still call to me, but I needed a break. To climb well in down there you must be psyched to the hilt, and I just haven't felt that requisite headspace lately. In Patagonia, you get told when to climb by the weather. And when its game on, you better be ready to play.

Friends

2011-02-21T15:44:00.001-08:00

Just a quick note to say congrats to my friends Jason Kruk and Chris Geisler for a really impressive bid on the Compressor Route on Cerro Torre in Patagonia.

Jason's got a great write-up on his blog: www.jasonkruk.net

Basically, those guys pushed real hard and came a stone's throw from the top after some all-night aid jiggery pokery. Despite not succeeding, they pointed the way forward. To me, the Southeast Ridge of Cerro Torre is one of the most elegant lines I've ever laid eyes on. To climb that feature without Maestri's bolts is way cool.

Here's a couple snaps of the boys themselves.

Geisler eyeing up some burgers on top of the Split Pillar:

Kruk eyeing up some cocktails at a party last year:

Jason, with a penchant for fine denim and ear-splitting dance music, is one of my favourite partners in crime. While Chris is back in Vancouver, Jason is still down there, aiming for another try. Suerte, amigo!

VIMFF 2011

2011-02-06T12:35:00.000-08:00

I'm back in North Vancouver for a couple weeks here. Its pissing rain right now- classic winter west coast. Since being home I've been augered into writing mode, which is lots fun, and just starting to put something together for the Vancouver International Mountain Film Festival which runs from Feb 11-19. If you find yourself in this neck of the woods this time of year, I highly recommend you make it to one of the nights. Alan Formanek never ceases to put on an awesome event. Jasmin Caton, Sean McColl and I will be presenting on the finale night: saturday Feb 19. Its been fun leafing through the slides of the past year, trying to come up with a coherent theme to present. This past year has been a blast- and doing this slideshow is forcing me to reflect on lessons learned, and plans for the year ahead. I like how putting together slideshows do that.

I hope everyone's doing great and enjoying their winter.

Hope to see you on Feb 19. Heckle, drink some beer and get stoked on the absurd activity of climbing rocks.

Here's a few snaps from my trip overseas.

Alex and Stacey hit the slopes... in Turkey.

Peak district sunset.

Bullet-hard limestone. Antalya Turkey.

An Efes Pilsen between chairlift rides never hurt anyone.... I hope.

Hazel bringing in 2011 with our Turkish friend. I have never seen anyone this hammered yet still standing. Despite his inebriation, he still had better rhythm than me.

The Aardvark and the Ferret

2010-12-14T07:28:00.000-08:00

Above is a shot looking out the window before my flight to the UK. McCarren International. Las Vegas Nevada.

Its good to be back in the United Kingdom. We've been riding our bikes around lots, and I've almost been hit a few times. The streets are narrow, and people drive on the left side of the road over here. The bike riding is almost as sketchy as the headpointing. The terrain is 'heads-up', mate.

Last year my friend Harold vividly described the beta on 'the Aardvark and the Ferret' at his native crag, Avon Gorge. Avon isn't a world class venue by any stretch, but for an urban crag its pretty damn good. Only a three minute bike ride away from Hazel's flat, this crag is a whacky combo of grit-like rock and fossil-infused limestone. The movement is a blast, and you are never far away from a frosty pint.

Harold is an excitable lad, and I'll never forget him pantomiming 'the ferret move' on this Avon Gorge classic. Sunday dawned perfectly clear, and I convinced Madeline and Harold to venture into the gorge.

Here's a few pics below.

This is me doing the dreaded "ferret" move. Or is it the "aardvark" move?

Harold leading off into the great unknown.

Madeline coping with some devious corner work. Respect.

First lead attempt on the Ferret. Note the Kokanee toque. These come in select 24 packs of Kokanee if anyone is interested in acquiring one.

Nothing beats finishing the day with a Gem. So, so smooth.

Eastside

2010-12-08T11:45:00.000-08:00

I love the East side of the Sierra.

Since first coming here in Grade 11 with the McColl boys, Dave Nykyforuk and Jason Kruk, the Buttermilks still take the cake as my favourite bouldering area in the whole world. I am here for a couple more days before heading to the United Kingdom. I wish I was a bit stronger to top out these mega-highballs. Time to hit the gym this winter. Here's a few shots of my buddies having some fun in the desert.

Trott and Enzo warm up the old-fashioned way.

Open road outside of Lone Pine.

Southern Belle

2010-11-26T08:18:00.000-08:00

On Nov 1, Alex Honnold and I repeated the Southern Belle on the South Face of Half Dome. It was first climbed in 1987 by Walt Shipley and Dave Schultz and freed the next year by Schultz and Scott Cosgrove. In 2006, Leo Houlding and Dean Potter made the second free ascent.

Hazel left to go back to the UK on October 8th, which left me a few weeks before I had to leave Yosemite too. Jason Kruk and I had an Arc'teryx photo gig to attend in Joshua Tree on Nov 5. Alex and I had made plans to climb together and were shooting ideas around on email. We hoped to get on a big wall but October's weather was surprisingly unstable. Storms were rolling in every week, it seemed. Perhaps a one-day mission was the go? The idea of climbing the Southern Belle had been floating around in my head for a few years. I popped the idea to Alex. He responded, "Everything I can find on the internet says that it's certain death, but I guess you never know till you try."

As soon as I figured it was game-on, I cranked up the Strokes on the I-pod and hiked the three hours to the south face in a raging rainstorm. I stashed a rope, rock shoes and water at the base.

When we arrived at our stash on try number 1, the rope and shoes, despite being wrapped in multiple plastic bags was all wet. There was verglas on the approach, and we hoping that route was icy, too. It was one of those days where we were looking for any excuse to bail.

On that first attempt we both onsighted to the crux, a 12d near vertical pitch of micro-holds. We spent a few hours try to figure this pitch out. Alex tried, I tried, then Alex tried again. A real head-scratcher. Finally, Alex saw through the sequence and we both dialed it in. The next pitch, named 'the Cuntress' by Walt Shipley, is a 150 foot left leaning micro-seam protected by very small wires. Leo told me to bring a double set of micro-wires, and that beta was critical. Its graded 12a, but the grade doesn't really do it justice. I spent about an hour trying to onsight it, and grabbed a cam a stone's throw from the top. I dropped about six of Alex's nuts in the process and arrived at the belay completely fried. Alex, terrified at the belay, stopped looking up and just payed out slack.

It was obvious the route wasn't going down that day, but we were psyched. Alex arrived at the belay bug-eyed, and said, "this route is a good adventure!" We rapped down, had pizza at Curry Village with Alex's girlfriend Stacey, and made plans for the next round.

The next round came about a week later. We blasted the first few pitches pretty quick. Alex led the fourth pitch, and I took a few falls on toprope, then sent it from a mini-ledge, no hands stance about 15 feet above the last anchor. From there we didn't fall again. The Cuntress went smoothly. Just knowing what was in store for me made all the difference.

From there we were adrift in a sea of open slabs, tick-tacking our way to the bolts, trying to make good decisions. I was concentrating really hard, and don't remember much. Dean Potter told me it was the only route that made him feel nauseous from the runouts. I can relate.

We swung leads to the top. Just as the sun started setting we pulled over the top of Half Dome. My feet hurt like hell and we were thirsty. We dunked our heads in puddles and sucked back as much H20 as possible. "Maybe there will be base-jumping chicks at the top with cookies!" said Alex. No such luck.

We loped down the tourist path, drained of adrenaline.

Ben Ditto, Brad Gobright and I snapped some shots a couple days later. The next day I drove down to Joshua Tree, met my best budJason Kruk. We drank scotch until three in the morning at the Travelodge, catching up. We spent three days in Josh filming with Brian Goldstone and Angela Pervcival. I repeated a few old Stonemaster highballs, like So High and Up 40. Everything paled in comparison to the runouts of the Southern Belle.

Jason Kruk photo.

After that, Jason and I drove up to the Bow Valley. Hazel was there for a North Face athlete summit. We tried to go climbing at Grassi Lakes. Between the driving and climbing, I was worked.

California

2010-10-16T11:08:00.000-07:00

I have been in California for about a month now. Hazel was here for a few weeks before she flew back to England. It was great to revisit some classics with Hazel, and see some new ones as well. First up was the Regular Route on Half Dome. She had done the first few moderate pitches a few years back, but aside that minor asterisk, she onsighted the whole route in a day. Katie Brown has also done that.

We both shook our heads in amazement at the top, imagining ourselves ropeless like Alex Honnold. Still the boldest rock solo ever done, in my opinion.

Next was the Bachar-Yerian, a bold classic on Medlicott Dome in Tuolumne Meadows. Again, a stellar fall-free onsight for Hazel. We swung leads. I have wanted to climb this route since I was a kid.

Since Hazel left I've been fooling around on the right side of El Cap, trying to piece together a line. Jason Kruk and I tried to free the Waterfall route a couple years ago, but turned around in the face of loose rock. A week ago, a giant rockfall obliterated the line we were trying. Often I wonder if the fear I am feeling on routes is justified, or just nervous hocus-pocus. This section of wall is really sketchy, and I think we made the right decision a couple years back.

Photo by Tom Evans.

While dabbling on the top pitches of the Waterfall route, I've had the pleasure of hanging out with Brits Jason Pickles and Leo Houlding, who are trying to finish their long term project: the Prophet on the right side of El Cap.

Their route finishes with a pitch they've dubbed the A1 beauty- I like to call it the Cobra Crack of El Cap. Yesterday I awoke at 2 AM to hike up and help film Leo lead the crack. I'm no videographer, and seem to start shaking ever so slightly whenever I have camera in my hand. It was so cool to see Leo send the pitch. He was jacked- now, every pitch of his ten year mega project has been sent. All that's left is a ground up push.

The whole experience charged me up more so than any recent climb of my own. It is inspiring to see those boys stick to the process, year after year, through injuries and setbacks, and revisit something until they see it to completion.

Here's a shot of Leo lacing up for an evening bid on the A1 beauty pitch of the Prophet. I love the mornings and evenings up there.

Turret's Syndrome

2010-08-21T21:27:00.001-07:00

Andrew has that hell-bent look in his eyes. He scratches his fingers in the back of a grotty finger crack, seeking any sort of jam at all. “I don’t know how you did this!” he yells into the wind. I try to smile through chattering teeth, and belay him up to my stance: A few nuts and a undercammed TCU shoved sideways into a strange, beautiful horizontal crystalline crack. Nobody has ever been to this little cave before, and I get an uncomfortable, eerie feel from it. I’ve butted us up into an impasse. Loose and steep to the right and left, and a roof above us. Now, the weather, threatening all day, has morphed into a full-fledged hail storm. We are a stone’s throw from the top of the Turret, and I am scared.

Andrew Boyd is a legend in Squamish circles. Uncompromising and unsponsored, he consistently establishes bold, beautiful routes in the Sea-to-Sky Corridor. Since I was a kid, his lines have inspired me. Last year, we roped up together for the first time on a free bid on the East Face of Slesse. We made it five pitches up before realizing our light-and-fast tactics were no match for this 3500 beast of a face. More importantly though, I had a found a partner with a no-nonsense, go-get-it-done attitude and a similar risk tolerance to my own. I rapped off Slesse humbled, but happy.

I’ve never ridden in a helicopter to get to go climbing before. From Kinbasket Lake near Golden, I am wearing a t-shirt, shorts and a ball-cap. 10 minutes later I’m on the glacier, struggling to heft 48 Pilsners and two bottles of Scotch to our bivy, a 15 minute walk from the Turret. I am immediately sold on heli-access. This place is unbelievable, and we take a swig of booze to celebrate our arrival.
“Jesus! What are you wearing?” asks Mountain Guide Craig McGee.
“Chill out. This isn’t the Karakorum,” I reply, jokingly. I will later come to regret saying that.

As Andrew takes over the lead on pitch two of the Turret, I am again reminded that he is among the best climbers I’ve ever seen. He navigates overhanging choss, hopscotching corner systems at a steady clip, placing gear at intermittent intervals, never once hesitating or second-guessing himself. Then he hands over the rack, and it’s my turn to live up to the bargain.

After plowing through the lower dihedrals, we arrive at a halfway ledge delineating the lower-angled rock from the steeper upper half. The rock here is excellent: laser cut corners, arêtes and face edges. I peer up into the corner above me. It looks too thin for fingers so I slam a couple pins and boulder out left, gambling that the next corner over is a bit wider. It is.

“Tag me my waterproof!” yells Andrew. I open the bag and delicately fish around for his jacket with wooden fingers. Andrew has found a way to escape the crystal cave by venturing down and left. His movements, characteristically smooth and calculated, have turned aggressive and punchy. We are now in a whiteout.

I can’t hear much when Andrew finishes the pitch: Just vague murmurs in the wind. I need to lower out about 30 feet or face a hideous horizontal pendulum. I’m really cold now, and not thinking very fast. I take the cam out of the crack and lower off a couple sideways nuts in the strange crystal rock. If they rip I’ll go for a terrible whip. Now, out of the cave, I’m in the storm completely. I clean the pitch and meet Andrew at the belay. I’m a jabbering mess and gear hangs from my harness in disarray. Andrew’s eyes are gleaming.

From here the angle lessens off. I throw on a fleece and burrow into a chimney for warmth. “We can stay here until it calms down!” Andrew yells at me from a foot away. I’m nodding, or shaking- I can’t tell which. The storm looks to be holding off. 20 minutes later we are on top of the Turret. We trace the edge of the south face for a rappel line but come up empty handed. It looks like our only option is to rap the north-west face and hike down 1000 feet of snow in rockshoes. We’re unbothered, though. The storm has relaxed for a bit, just long enough for us to escape.

Back on the glacier at dusk, Andrew punches up the snowcone at the base to retrieve our boots. I take off my climbing shoes and sit down on a rock. Clouds are rolling in. We hike trudge back to camp as the rain starts to spit again.

In camp we brew up some tea, mixing in some Grant’s whiskey. “How long do you think we could’ve stayed up there waiting out the weather?” we ask each other, between sips. As always, there are no answers, only more questions.

The storm doesn’t relent for four days. Finally, our heli-pilot Don braves the conditions and flies in to get us. Toni and Benno, our German friends, stay in the cirque to continue attempting a different route on the Turret.

Three days later, my girlfriend Hazel and I visit Benno in the Golden Hospital. He has rappelled off the end of his rope, taking a 50 meter plunge to the glacier. Miraculously, he has only broken his leg. I leave the hospital reminded, yet again, that this climbing game is a delicate business.

Summary:
FFA of the South Face of the Turret
Via Turret’s Syndrome
5.11+ Grade V 600 meters
Free for leader
Andrew Boyd, Will Stanhope
August 2010

Big thanks to Arc’teryx for making this trip happen.
And to Peder Ourom for hooking me up with photos and beta over coffee at Starbucks in Squamish.

A Link Up

2010-08-03T16:11:00.000-07:00

I awoke at 4AM last friday to attempt a link up on the Chief. 4 AM is both a wonderful and terrible time to be awake. I always get a high off early mornings: the potent mixture of grogginess and excitement. When the alarm starts beeping, its go time. No more time to dwell and worry.

Alex Honnold was frying eggs in his van. A self-confessed monk, Alex abstains from wobbly pops, coffee and tobacco. His only vice? Cookies. I pounded back an espresso and while we jabbered over what gear to bring. I was a little intimidated to be climbing with Alex. Since we first met 4 years ago, he has been on a ballistic climbing rampage... truly. 5.12 big wall solos, 5.14+ bolts, v11 highballs, insane El Cap pushes...

First up was the free Grand, a route I had just climbed with my girlfriend, Hazel Findlay. We started in the dusky half-light, but were drenched in sweat by the time we hit the Split Pillar. There are two hard pitches on this climb: the Underfling and the 5.13b slab pitch. Alex hadn't freed this line in 4 years. I climbed the slab, then explicitly explained to Alex which holds to grab. He nodded, then did exactly what I pointed out. I have never seen anything like that before. Alex is a good listener.

We were back at the van by 7 AM. Hazel was brewing up tea. She is from Britain. She loves tea very much. Below is a pic of Hazel with some tea in the High Sierra.

We picked up a few more cams and jogged towards University Wall.

Alex led the first three pitches of U-Wall together "When I encounter rope-drag, I stop placing gear," said Alex. We continued up the Roman Chimneys and were back at the car around 11 AM.

At this point, I pounded my first Red Bull of the day while Alex drove the van to the North Walls. It seems everyone is very critical of Red Bull these days, after team Red Bull/ David Lama left a junk show on Cerro Torre. I still like Red Bulls. Alex, being a monk, had some bread and cheese instead.

Northern Lights is a strenuous outing on the North Walls of the Chief. It is a meat-and-potatoes climb, much like Astroman. It has some overhanging flare climbing, some long corners, some greenery and some choss. Northern Lights is scruffy, rough around the edges- much like Squamish in years past. Less yoga-and-granola, more bar-fights-and-strippers. I like Northern Lights, and I wanted very much to include it in the link up. Honnold, more familiar with glacier-buffed Yosemite, had some words to say at the top: "These last pitches are a piece of shit." Alex does not mince his words.

The hike off Northern Lights is an overgrown death march. We arrived back at the van around 4pm. Then we charged towards Freeway without shirts, as the route was now baking in the afternoon sun. At this point, I started to get a little wobbly on my feet, a little more conservative with the runouts. Alex, unfazed by the previous three routes, was still gunning at mach-speed. "Dude, I thought you were going to take us to the top?" he said, as I cautiously fiddled in a small cam, on the long 11a corner. But we kept plugging.

We ambled back to the van at around 6:30pm, approximately 13.5 hours after starting. Hazel and Jason Kruk had taken the trouble of picking up some orange juice for Alex, and some Kokanees for me. Over the course of the evening, I downed four: one for each route.

The next day I guided two folks from Seattle up the Chief in a sedated daze, liberally slurping back Red Bull throughout the day to keep from falling asleep. Alex took one rest day, then climbed 2 5.14s and a 5.13.

Hats off my friend, and thank you for a day I won't forget.

Summary:

The Free Grand (with Apron Strings start)
University Wall (with Roman Chimneys)
Northern Lights
Freeway

Approximately 13.5 hours, give or take... we didn't note the exact times for starting and finishing. No falls for Alex or I.

Decking

2010-06-26T08:42:00.000-07:00

Here's a shot of me holding the pin that ripped on Flight of Challenger. I narrowly avoided hurting myself really bad, just hitting a dirt patch dowhill from some leg-breaker rocks. It's always the easy ground that gets you... I know that sounds arrogant, but to be honest, I have done those moves innumerable times; it was that nonchalance that just about had me hobbled for the whole summer, maybe longer.

Let's all stay safe so we can sit back, relax, and enjoy fine publications like this... for many years down the road.

And here's a snap of Hazel being cute on top of the Marina Bay Sands Hotel in Singapore, after successfully climbing the building.

Arch Project

2010-05-27T17:50:00.000-07:00

Here's a few shots that my buddy Ryan Olson took of a new project of mine at Murrin Park, Squamish BC. I originally got tipped off on this rig a few years ago when my friend Zack Smith told me about it. Apparently, he did all the moves but couldn't link it. I tried it a couple years ago... without any luck. Now, it seems feasible. Runout and hard. It's a wild line up an otherwise totally blank section of rock.

Room On Fire

2010-03-13T01:17:00.000-08:00

Room on Fire is a great album by the Strokes, after their 2001 debut, Is This It. I love these guys. Perpetually drunk, lead singer Julian Casablancas once broke his leg falling off the stage, only to spend the rest of the tour singing on a stool, still boozing it up.
Julian has since sworn off the sauce, but Room on Fire was recorded during the height of their partying days. "The room is on fire as she's fixing her hair." Classic lyrics.

Last week Jason Kruk and I had a rare day off work, so we booted it up to Squamish. Jason had intermittently been trying an old Perry Beckham project at the Solarium, a leaning splitter up an otherwise blank wall. I had tried it last year with him once. One day off, decent weather in early march, and a first ascent waiting to be plucked... what could be better?

Jason swore up and down that the route would be in the sun, and I believed him. Upon arriving at the cliff, it became clear that the sun wasn't high enough in the sky to warm this shady little cliff. It was frigid. Frozen toes, numb finger and balancy granite weirdness. On my second try, I barely stuck the moves, willing my feet to stay put, and enjoying every last move. At the end of the line, the climber is forced to leave the crack and bust out for some slopers on the lip, at the very top of the wall. I barely stuck it and crawled my way to the anchor with bleeding, buzzing fingers.

The next day at work I was grinning like an idiot, so happy to have caught a bit of sun between the storms. Everything seemed so much brighter.

Bellingham Slideshow

2010-03-10T22:08:00.000-08:00

Tuesday March 16, at 7 p.m. at the Bellingham Library, Fairhaven Branch (1117 12th St.) in the Fireside Room. It is free and open to the public. This is a Bellingham Mountaineers meeting. Here's the website:

http://www.bellinghammountaineers.org/

So... this should be blast. If anyone finds themselves in Bellingham Washington, come out, and we'll talk about rocks, climbing and all that fun stuff.

Wintertime Inspiration

2010-02-24T16:02:00.000-08:00

I am typing right now with buzzing fingertips, fresh off a 10 day trip to Bishop California. I am sunburnt, sleep deprived and sore, but in other ways refreshed and inspired. I love eastern sierra: the gigantic boulders, stellar sunrises over the mountains, ice-cold PBRs over the campfire. The buttermilks is still my very favorite place to boulder, more for the scenery than the razor sharp rock.

Above is the Grampa Peabody boulder, home of Ambrosia, Kevin Jorgenson's gigantic highball.
On the trip it was great to meet up with Kevin and Alex Honnold, then witness Alex casually stroll one of the most impressive boulder problems I can think of.

Here, KJ and Alex spot the landing zone, arrange crash pads, and strategize.

Then Alex threw down, as he always does. Impressive.

Right now it's hammering rain in North Van. I leave in a month for the Utah desert, so training is in full effect: Time in the Edge Climbing Center, dark nights under the bright lights of the gym, conditioning and plastic, all the while dreaming of big granite.

Jeremy Blumel, Klemen Mali, Sonnie Trotter and I spent some time snooping around obscure spots of the Chief this winter.

Could this be Squamish's next hard crack? All I know is that it would be way, way harder than the Cobra. Approximately twice as hard. I'll be back in the summer to investigate some more.

On this recon mission I ripped off an important hold, but I'm still keeping the faith.

Andrew Boyd, granite magician, tops out a blank slab underneath the Grand Wall after the sun has set. Nobody, not anyone, knows Squamish granite like this guy.

Subtleties. Intricate, little subtleties.

Boyd polishes it off, which always begs the same
question?

What's next?

VIMFF 2010

2010-01-15T09:03:00.000-08:00

On January 29, Sonnie Trotter and I will be showing some slides and drinking some beer at the 2010 Vancouver International Mountain Film Festival. Sean McColl is going to present a clip of him sending Dreamcatcher. It'll be a fun night, with a tonne of other rad films as well. Thanks to Alan Formanek for putting everything together.

A pause between trips

2010-01-13T11:47:00.000-08:00

About a week ago I got back from a long trip. I left Vancouver in late October with Jason Kruk. First up was a mandatory training stop at Beyond the Crux Climbing gym in Kelowna BC. Next, a slideshow in Bend Oregon's InClimb gym. Thanks so much to Victoria Smith for putting that together for us. After that, Jason and I drove down to Yosemite CA.

Above is a shot of Jason on the A5 Traverse pitch on the Golden Gate. The Golden Gate, established by the Huber brothers in 2000, is a wild free line just right of the Salathe. We didn't pre inspect the route, but gleaned as much beta as possible from Mason Kinloch Earle who sent the route this past spring. Mason is the next big thing in big, bad rock climbing- mark my words... Positive, cool and strong as an ox. That kid is the future.

I managed to send it, but almost got shut down on the 12c downclimb early in the route. Jason came achingly close, falling at the very end of the A5 Traverse. There is no guarantees on these El Cap free routes.

I came off El Cap exhausted but exhilarated. The whole experience inspired me to up my game to a new level. I really can't think of anything cooler than El Cap freeclimbing. I just like being way off the ground, trying my best, living and breathing rock climbing.

Here is a picture of Hazel Findlay in the UK, getting ready to lead some 40 foot pitches with two ropes.

Paul McSorley, Jon Walsh and a bottle of Bells Scotch before heading into the Taghia Gorge, Morocco. Stay tuned for an upcoming piece in Gripped about that trip.

A little bit of training inspiration courtesy of Alpinist Magazine, with Yuji's signature on the front.

Golden Gate

2009-11-10T02:11:00.000-08:00

Peering off the portaledge, day 5, 36 pitches off the deck. Late in the day the swallows stop darting, replaced by squeaking bats. The shadows creep around the corners, one by one. Everything else glows crimson. I grab the straps of the ledge and look up. Just touching the fabric sends spikes of pain through my fingers. Two more pitches of 5.13- and this thing in the bag... I put on my shoes and saddle up for one more pitch before the lights go out.

The Golden Desert pitch is a sweeping dihedral with shallow fingerlocks. The light is fading and I'm fatigued, but still moving fast, straining to see the little edges and dimples in the granite. Past the crux, I plug in a yellow TCU, but can't see what the lobes are doing. I could call for tension, give up... But I go for it, groping for holds like a blind man, and fall inches from a jug. The cam rips and I'm dangling in darkness, 30 feet lower, blood dripping off my fingers into space.

That night on the ledge I turn to Jason.
"Dude, I'm haunted by failure."
"Well, there's worse things to be haunted by," he replies.
"Like what?"
"Ghosts. Ghosts would be way worse."
We laugh like lunatics.

Two days later we are on top, the route done, sipping espresso. Then we strap on the haulbags and stumble down the trail, wobbling from the load.

Everything hurts, but it doesn't matter anymore.

Slideshow in Bend, October 23rd 2009

2009-10-13T15:33:00.001-07:00

'Pine Season

2009-08-20T17:48:00.000-07:00

Please check out www.jasonkruk.net to read about our latest trip to the Bugaboos. It was a wild adventure. I'm currently writing something for Gripped about it.

For the past two weeks I've been guiding lots and working clinics for the Squamish Mountain Festival. Tomorrow I'm guiding then driving out to Chilliwack to get into the alpine again.
I'll post some photos soon.

I hope everybody's getting after it this summer.... The summer alpine season is running out!

Bachar

2009-07-08T16:33:00.000-07:00

This shot was the cover of Climbing in 2000. John Bachar soloing the Gift, Red Rocks Nevada. Photo by John McDonald.

Rest in Peace, John.

Bachar was a huge hero to me. Uncompromising, bold, strong and forward-thinking. He pushed climbing big-time.

When I first saw this photo I had just unsuccessfully tried to hang-dog my way up The Gift. This was my favorite photo for years.

John Bachar's death has fucked with my headspace. That guy was as rock-solid as rock-solid gets. If he can blow it soloing, I guess everyone can. I am so shocked. It's unhinging to have a hero die. Ever since I was a kid I thought Bachar was immortal- in a different league. I feel odd and sad.

Cobra

2009-06-24T07:04:00.000-07:00

Last friday I was working in New Westminster cleaning dryer vents on rappel with my good Slovenian buddy Klemen Mali. I had basically written off the Cobra Crack- I would wait until I was fitter and stronger- maybe in a couple weeks or something. I needed a break and my fingers were thrashed. The day before Paul McSorley and I had diving contests in Browning Lake and I had bruised my ear drum. My Dad gave me some random anti-biotics he found in case it was infected. Apparently that is a bad idea according to my nurse friend Mandoline...

The next day I woke up in North Van to the pitter-patter of rain. After a quick stop at the clinic to check to see if my ear was okay, I drove up to Squamish, hoping beyond hope that the rain would stop and I would have another chance on the Cobra. For some reason, I am always most optimistic in the morning. I'm sure coffee has something to do with it.

Conditions at the Cobra were absolutely premium. Only a few people were there: Mandoline, Jeremy, Rich and Senja. It was a good vibe. Some people can deal with crowds- my comp master buddy Sean McColl, for example. But I don't do so well with cell phones bleeping and a tonne of people asking questions.

On my first try I fell above the lip, dropping my foot out of the heel hook. I had never felt so strong up there, which stunned me. I rested for about an hour, and when the rain started drizzling ever so slightly, I tied in again and sent it. On the final 5.10+ part of the crack my rope got mildly wedged in the lip of the crack. The crack was filthy so I cleaned as I went, yanking up rope with one hand, aggressively torquing my fingers into the crack... I wasn't going to blow it now... At the top I was covered in dirt and blood.

The Cobra is done now, and a little era is over for me. I think alot about my friend Didier Berthod, who has since dropped off the grid and lives in a Monastery in Europe. He was the one who really sparked my interest in the line. Didier was a real soul climber, on a mission to climb the hardest cracks in the world. He didn't care much for personal wealth, and often hiked to the Cobra barefoot for some reason. I think he had some theory about being in tune with the earth before a climb... who knows. I climbed with him in Indian Creek in 2005/ 06 and said the Cobra was maybe the most beautiful line he had even seen. After he broke his arm in Moab I drove him to Salt Lake City and never saw him again. Didier came up short on the Cobra, but I hope his new quest is going well for him.

I miss ya, bud.

Back at it

2009-06-13T08:36:00.000-07:00

The last week has been a rough one in the climbing community. I have been feeling pretty glum thinking about my friends Micah Dash and Jonny Copp who were killed in an avalanche in China. I don't really know what to say... those guys were top-notch and big inspirations for me. I heard that they found Jonny's body right before my slideshow at the Leavenworth Rockfest. Man, it was tough to go up and act positive when all I wanted to do was be alone.

My motivation was waning big time, but as always, climbing seems to help. I have been coming really close on the Cobra crack. I love the all-consuming nature of that climb: the 45 minute hike, the remote nature of the cliff, the huge cedars and doug firs nudging up against the cliff.

I have been throwing myself at the climb relentlessly, and have one-falled it once on lead. My high point was just above the lip, trying to toss my foot above my head. My fingers are totally mangled and I'm going to have to take a couple days off.

When I first hiked up and saw the Cobra I was in high school and it was still a project. It is really beautiful, a stunning slice up an overhanging wave of perfect granite. Back then, it was called a project for the next generation, a futuristic route that may never be climbed. Times have changed. It has now had four ascents, all by really dedicated strong climbers: Sonnie Trotter, Nico Favresse, Ethan Pringle and Matt Segal. I still get goosebumps everytime I walk underneath it.

It is a joy to lose skin on this thing. Thinking about Micah and Jonny is a real wake-up call for how finite life can be. So right now I'm trying to appreciate the small things and enjoy the whole package- the painful locks, the struggle, and the friends that have generously come to belay me.

I'm a lucky kid.

East Face of Monkey

2009-04-27T08:34:00.000-07:00

Back in the mid- nineties, when I was about 10, my dad and some friends took a trip to Smith Rock. On that trip we tried to climb the Pioneer route on the Monkey. At the time the Monkey looked massive, absolutely huge. In reality it's a short 3 pitch bolt ladder/ 5.9/ scramble route... But at the time, as an impressionable kid, it looked giant. On the route we got snowed on and rappelled...

In 2004 Sonnie Trotter climbed the East Face placing all the gear on lead. That was the spring I graduated from high school and Ben Moon's shots absolutely blew me away... They still stand as some of the coolest photos I have ever seen. Trotter looks like he's climbing 1000 feet off the deck given the airy nature of the Monkey at the laser cut arete to his right. At the time I could only climb 13a sport and mid 5.12 trad, so it was out of the question to try the line. But I vowed to one day get strong enough to send it.

This spring I buckled down and drove to Smith, intent on really giving it a serious effort. My good friend Charlie Long came with and hiked up to the Monkey many, many times. I owe him hours of belay duty. At first, the route felt impossible. Powerful, painful, and hopelessly long. Charlie and I ended up bringing at least 5 PBRs for every session. After one attempt my fingers would be bleeding and I'd need a little pain relief to give it a second burn. A couple low buzz American beers did the trick. A little trick I learned from Andrew Boyd...

The trip was coming to a close... I had to work on Squamish on Sunday, and by friday afternoon I still hadn't sent. In the end, as always, sending came down to a mental thing. I focussed on how wild the climbing was, how much of a joy it was to be up there, and blocked out negative thoughts. Placing all 14 pieces on lead and skipping the bolts, I was pumped out of my mind at the top.

The next day my good buddy Rich Wheater snapped shots of me in the early morning light. Charlie gave Chain Reaction three burns but came up short.... just barely missing the final jug. Then I drove for most of the night and worked all day yesterday teaching in the Smoke Bluffs.

Another day, another try...

2009-04-23T10:50:00.000-07:00

I have now one-falled the East Face twice. Every time I go up there I lose a tonne of skin and blood. This route is, without a doubt, the most taxing line I have ever tried. It is a long, epic battle with a cruxy huge runout at the very top. Really, really draining.

Two days until I have to be at home to work... At times like these, I look up to my climbing heroes and ask myself "what would they do?" Sonnie, Nico, Segal, Rolo... those guys are so tenacious. It is INSPIRING. They push hard...

Mental hurdles

2009-04-19T10:33:00.000-07:00

For the past week or so I have been trying the East Face of Monkey Face in Smith Rock Oregon. My good buddy Charlie Long has accompanied me on this adventure, patiently hiking up to Monkey to belay me many times. Having a psyched partner is critical. Charlie has only been climbing for a few years, but he's amped, which is the most important thing.

I have been trying to wrap my head around leading the Monkey. Ideally, I would like to repeat Sonnie Trotter's '04 ascent, skipping all the fixed protection and placing all the gear on lead. Now that I've deemed myself fit enough for an attempt, all that remains is the mental prep. If I pitch at the top, I could go for a huge fall. It's safe. But punching it hard, facing a 50 footer is always a bit disconcerting. So right now I'm running the sequences through in my head, thinking positive, and psyching myself up to try with everything I have.

w.

2009-03-21T10:43:00.000-07:00

Garibaldi, full blown pirate, enjoys a few litros of Heineken after taking us across Lago Puelo in his Zodiac.

Granite gold.

Pleasant night-time reading before bed.

A caballo gets saddled with an Arc'Teryx Naos 85.

A little bit of samba dancing in BA never hurt anyone.

Paul, Lucas and Jorge. Hooligans through and through.

Awesome trip.

A little help from my friends

2009-03-16T05:53:00.000-07:00

Right now I´m back in Buenos Aires. The city is bustling, as always. Hostel dwelling travelling kids compare bus routes, beautiful women strut down the street dressed to the nines, taxis swerve and honk, shirtless old men pass each other the mate gourd on street corners. Argentines are emotional people. I have never seen so many people sobbing and kissing at a bus station before. Male friends all kiss each other on the cheek in greeting. That just doesn´t happen back home.

Tomorrow I will be back in North Van. It has been a two month trip for me, which is usually longer than I like to do. By this point, my motivation tends to wane a bit. But it has been a good trip, if a little draining at times. But I can feel my psyche level cranking back up again, mostly proportionate to the number of cafe con leches I drink.

I can´t remember who said it first, but I totally agree on the sentiment: who you go climbing with is more important than what you climb. This trip started off with one of my best buddies, Matt Segal, picking me up at the airport in El Paso. After a week of bouldering in Mexico, Matt put aside a week of his time to support me on ´Musta Bin High´, a route I wanted to climb in Eldorado Canyon. In Squamish last summer, I skipped work to belay him on the Cobra Crack.

It mostly snowed in Boulder. On my last day, hours before my flight to Patagonia, I had yet to send. Musta Bin High is notoriously sketchy, and a fall could result in injury. I had only one good day of sussing it out, hardly enough to lock the sequence into my brain. Given any other circumstances, I would have thrown in the towel and waited for another day. After all, this wasn´t just some sport climb. If the half-driven knife blade broke at the crux, the consequences would be dire. But the clock was ticking. As the sun was setting, I blocked out the nervousness, tied in, and climbed it. The next morning, Matt dropped me off at the Boulder bus station and I was on my way to Patagonia.

It all reminds me of an old story I heard about Jim Bridwell, one of the most accomplished climbers to ever live. As with most climbing stories, perhaps the specific details have been blurred over the years. But the theme remains the same. As the story goes, at the bar one night, when asked about his most proud accomplishment, Bridwell pushed the question aside. ¨In the end, it doesn´t matter what routes you climbed. All that matters is how many people you helped along the way.¨

Not Going Crazy

2009-01-28T13:49:00.000-08:00

One of the most difficult parts of climbing is having the ability to chill and wait out bad weather. My friend Sonnie is a master at the art of hanging out. He can switch off the anxiety, sleep for a dozen hours at a time, watch movies, and stay absolutely blissfully content. And, when the sun finally breaks through the clouds, he can hit the rocks without skipping a beat. I envy him big time in this regard.

I am in Boulder right now, slowly losing my mind. Today Matt Segal and I went climbing at the Rincon Wall in Eldorado Canyon. Matt tried to convince me that it wasn't a good idea- the temperature in Boulder was hovering around 0 degrees celcius and Eldorado is substantially colder than town. Still, we hiked up there. I couldn't feel my hands at all, let alone muster the psyche to drop the hammer on sketchy 5.13. So it was back to the car, back to waiting...

Soon I'll be in Patagonia, a land that fosters cabin fever like no other. Month long stints of solid bad weather are commonplace. It is an area that can "turn even the most mellow hombres into cajey lunatics," as Kevin Thaw pointed out. A week of subzero temps in Boulder is merely a warm up for the serious chilling I'm about to do down south.

The last couple years of Patagonia have involved endless sessions passing the mate gourd, sipping Quilmes, tinkering on the local boulders and talking about the pressure. Is it going up? Going down? The most successful Patagonia climbers can chill like sedated turtles, then crank up the psyche at the first hint of good weather and make it happen in the 'pine. It's not easy. Patagonia beats you up. But the peaks and walls down there are so beautiful that I am hopelessly in love.

Paul McSorely, Andrew Querner and I are about to head down to Turbio, a mostly unexplored valley somewhere south of Bariloche, close to the Chilean border. To get things started, we have to raft across a lake then hike about 50 kms into the middle of nowhere. With any luck, we'll be surrounded by some sweeping big walls. In Patagonia, it's always a gamble with the weather. But if you gotta roll the dice to win...

Mex

2009-01-23T11:18:00.000-08:00

I left Vancouver ten days ago. Matt Segal, John Dickey and Matt's friend Robert picked Sarah Watson and I up at the El Paso airport. From there, we drove 7 hours south of the border to Pinoles, a deserted bouldering area ripe for first ascents. We spent 5 days climbing and exploring. It's the sort of area where you can do whatever you want, whatever suits your fancy. For me the highlight was seeking out proud lines, ones that called to me.

It's a cool creative process. Wandering the desert, eyeballing features, assessing the hazards, and eventually bucking up to give it a try. For me, first ascents are rarely about sheer difficulty. It's all about aesthetics- swooping cracks, triangular faces, big boulders. I can't explain it, but it's all about beautiful lines.

Ermanno Salvaterra, Italian alpinist, once compared Cerro Torre and her "sisters" to women. Having made countless trips to Patagonia, Salvaterra had clearly fallen in love with these peaks. Clearly obsessed, Salvaterra won't let those mountains alone.

Climbers, by nature, are obsessive people. On this trip I realized that I am very susceptible to the draw of beautiful lines.

cold and snowy

2008-12-22T13:59:00.000-08:00

I have been back in North Vancouver for about three weeks now. Lately, the snow has been coming down in heavy dumps and I have been relegated to number 1 driveway shoveler. I'll be leaving for Patagonia in a month. Until then, I'll be training hard in the climbing gym, trying hard to improve my pure power and finger strength.

I can handle the city at Christmas time- it's a great time to reconnect with friends and do some work. Some people can get way immersed in city culture. They get excited about shows, restaurants, and shopping malls. I always feel a little out of place here. I'll always remember a short sequence of photos Sonnie Trotter showed at a slide show years ago. The first shot was of a gridlocked interstate at rush hour in Toronto with city lights glimmering in the distance. The second was of an open highway in Texas at sunset. He said, "which one would you choose?" I would always choose the open road.

I just read a really cool interview with Dan Malloy on phoresia.org. He talks about traveling, and the importance of time at home to resupply motivation. Reading it, I felt he articulated something I always knew but never admitted to myself.

Here's a quote ripped from the site: "What I have learned is that being on the road feels so damn good because all of the important, difficult, and meaningful things in your life are really far away. So you go to this beautiful little town in Spain or Java or wherever and you are up on the hillside watching the sunset just looking at this little town feeling so free."

I love that feeling of being adrift, living out of a backpack or suitcase. I like feeling 'totally off the grid', wandering streets in a strange city. But as Dan says, "it can become an addiction like anything else that will leave you ungrounded if you don’t watch out."

Time at home is important. In the city I get my best, most inspired ideas. It's sometimes hard to stay motivated in the climbing gym, surrounded by plastic holds and artificial walls. But I stay afloat buoyed on my own imagination, always dreaming of the open road.

Yosemite beat down

2008-10-24T21:33:00.000-07:00

Jason Kruk and I made an attempt to free a route on the right side of El Cap. Many days of preparation were followed by a serious wall attempt which included some hauling and 5.10+ X sketchiness. At our highpoint, I found myself staring into a sea of death blocks (or perhaps safe blocks...) pasted in a roof. I just couldn't muster the courage to send, despite the fact that I badly wanted to free that route. On tough scary routes, success hangs in precarious balance. Once that balance was tipped, and the decision to bail was made, we rapped with the bitch haul bags. I was pissed at myself. Basically I knew those blocks were going to make us or break us. I just thought I had the cajones to bust through. But I didn't. And we rapped.

After calling the route off, my motivation has hit rock bottom. It takes alot of psyche to crank up for a route like that. And when it all comes apart, I find myself back at square one, looking for new inspiration.

It's easy to get wrapped up in these climbing projects. It is good to take a step back and realize that Yosemite in the fall is truly beautiful. The leaves are all falling off the trees and in the evenings the walls are ablaze with orange glow. Yesterday I found myself walking around pissed off, head down and brooding. I had to remind myself to lighten up and take climbing for what it is: a chance to do wild things in wild places.

El CAP-i-tan

2008-10-11T17:54:00.000-07:00

Nico Favresse, Belgian bad-ass, has freed a new route on El Cap somewhere in the vicinity of 'Bad to the Bone' and 'Eagles Way.' His partner Sean Villaneauva accompanied him on the adventure and freed alot of it as well.

Nico just related to me how touch and go the climbing was. Apparently, he had no idea if the route would go free as he slowly inched his way up the wall. The guys took enormous whippers along the way, and pulled off big blocks.

Mentally, Nico is one of the toughest climbers out there. Anybody who can free dicey 5.13 on knifeblades gets my full respect. Nico did that day after day without knowing whether his efforts would even amount to a free route. He just tried really hard and hoped for the best. For some reason, I think that luck favors those who push the absolute hardest.

YOS

2008-10-05T19:17:00.001-07:00

Empty cans of King Cobra, enormous squirrels, enormous tourists, a dozen languages spoken underneath Midnight Lightning, pots clanging at 5AM in Camp 4, battered haulbags, bears, bitter coffee in the cafeteria.... Big walls, very big walls.

No place quite like Yosemite....

The Throw Down

2008-09-16T07:48:00.000-07:00

About 10 days ago I hiked up to the Cobra crack with my good buddy Matt Segal. It was his last day in Squamish before an epic drive back to Boulder Colorado. I had done the hike innumerable times this summer- lots for Magical Dog, and lots to try the Cobra. Every bend and rock in the trail is familiar to me. Matt needed a belayer and I was more than willing to skip out on day of manual labour to help out a friend. After all, it was his last day of a 1.5 month trip. After a Jamaica-like August, things were cooling down and conditions were pretty much perfect.

Simply put, the Cobra is the most badass line in Squamish. Nothing else comes close. It is a laser-cut finger splitter out a whale-belly of impeccable granite. The rock is mint- but the crystals are finger shredding. It has a long and storied history. Peter Croft and Tami Knight first aided the pitch in 1981. Andrew Boyd spent a while working it, as did Jordan Wright, Jim Sandford and Didier Berthod. Finally, after years of effort, Canadian golden boy Sonnie Trotter fired the thing in the summer of 2006, ending the saga of freeing the Cobra. When I took my first trad course, Graeme Taylor mentioned an impossible crack hidden somewhere on the backside of the Chief. To me, the line represents the ultimate in single pitch climbing.

Despite the hour long approach, people often make the trek up to the Cobra to watch the action. Squamish isn't the backwater training ground it once was. Tourists, who have never even tied into a rope, ask, "is this the cobra crack?" In the age of YouTube and Google, thousands have seen the Patagonia video of Sonnie climbing the first ascent. It's all sorta weird.

On this day, there wasn't anyone up there save me and Segal. I would have expected Segal to appear nervous but he was ice-cool and calm. He dropped a toprope on it and warmed up a bit. I tried it a bit and marveled at how a summer's dabbling on the line had made it feel way more doable. I could finally do three quarters of the mono move... and was ecstatic.

Segal tied in and moved aggressively through the first section. He rested for a while before the crux, steeling himself to give everything he had. Then, he simply fired it, charging like a steam train through the sequences and grunted out the crux. I was in awe. Despite the pressure, he sent it.

At the top, Matt hollered, "Truck! Coors! Bitches!" which had been this summer's slogan of choice. My fingers were tingling and I was having minor arm reflex spasms just watching. Crazy how the body works...

Kudos, Matt. I am glad you waited out the storms and didn't lose hope. Totally an inspiration, bud. You have inspired me to train like a demon and one day free the Cobra as well.

Over and done with

2008-09-08T08:36:00.001-07:00

A couple days ago I freed the Cannabis Wall with Jason Kruk following behind me.

When I was younger I used to get very excited after sending a hard project and be on cloud nine for days. Nowadays, I am on cloud nine for a few hours and I immediately start thinking about the next route and the next challenge. Right now, I feel more ravenous to climb that I have in a long time. I can't help but feel the Cannabis is just a stepping stone for cooler and bigger things. Like maybe freeing Breakfast Run on top of Cannabis?

At the moment, I feel directionless and unhinged. These little routes are like time capsules, and so very all-consuming. There is nothing I like better than climbing into new terrain, totally open to the puzzle and the possibilities. Those late summer days on Cannabis, scrubbing and snooping around for holds, are what I really love. Now it's over and I feel a little empty.

Thanks alot to Jason in particular for sticking to the project and also Mike Styles and Ethan Pringle who came up there with me with an open mind.

Shoveling rocks

2008-09-06T07:09:00.000-07:00

I have spent some time lately trying to free the Cannabis Wall and shoveling rocks to make a bit of money. Shoveling rocks in this weather is truly heartbreaking, because the weather is so stellar. I should be shoveling in a torrential downpour, but instead I shovel in perfect temps: 18 degrees, clear, and sunny. Rugged.

Today Jason and I are heading up to try Cannabis, again. My shoulders are sore from manual labour, but I am stoked. Shoveling, I feel like a fish out of water. I have little in common with construction workers talking about new saws or torque on f-150s. But on Cannabis, trying really hard, I feel like I'm doing what I should be doing. Even though it's uncomfortable and spooky on Cannabis, I feel at home up there.

Time to pour another cup of coffee and rack the RPs and TCUs.

w.

Grand Wall Speed Record

2008-09-02T08:50:00.000-07:00

Climbing is pretty pointless. Is there a reason to race up the Grand Wall as fast as possible with a dangerously small rack? No, not really. But if you're going to play a stupid game you might as well have stupid amounts of fun doing it.

Kruk and I got stoked on the idea of beating Sig and Guy's 1:44 record, set twelve years ago. Over a couple Pilsners one night, we trimmed down the rack and postulated on our systems. 30 metre rope, one Yates ROCKER and a selection of Metolius TCUs and draws.

We had one dry run where we got caught behind some Euros with a dozens of ropes on the Pillar.... Rough. Try two started at 7:30pm after a half day of guiding. Krukker and I cracked a couple enormous energy drinks and dashed to the base. 1 hour 13 minutes later we were at the top of the Roman Chimneys, chests heaving and borderline spitting blood... I was blown away at how fast Kruk led the Roman Chimneys. The guy is an animal.

We had a couple Pilsners stashed in Jason's car and guzzled them with the beats of Tupac blasting on my little "sound system".

For me, the highlight was leading the Sword in the dying evening light, shirtless and at top speed. Pretty much as good as it gets.

Cannabis Wall and other things

2008-08-29T18:32:00.001-07:00

It's about 7pm on a friday night in North Vancouver. The clouds have finally split and it's feeling rather autumn-like this evening- cool and dry and without the heavy muggy feeling of summer.
Lately, it has been hammering rain in Squamish. I have been in Site 52 in the campground for the most part, working some and climbing less.

I have been working on Cobra Crack with Matt Segal a bit. That route is, without a doubt, the finest single pitch I have ever laid eyes on. It is damn hard, but not impossible. This winter I am going to work on my one-finger mono strength and core tension so I can do the crux. Mostly though, I have been having a riot hanging with Matt. Matt is a couple years older than me but we share a similar outlook on life. Basically, we both have trouble taking anything seriously and find ourselves laughing hysterically even when the Cobra is soaked and we should be brooding.

Also, I have been fooling around on the Cannabis wall, trying to find a way too free the thing. It will be stout, no doubt. But I've got high hopes and am banking on a perfect three week stretch of bluebird weather this September. Wouldn't that be sweet?

will

Back Home

2008-08-12T11:26:00.000-07:00

I just returned from OR in SLC. I am really, really glad to be on the coast. It has been a whirlwind summer for me and I haven't been in one place more longer than two weeks for more than three months. Now, it looks like I'll have some time to hang in Squamish and do some climbing with my good friend Matt Segal.

The OR show is a three day schmooze fest of head-nodding and hand shaking. So many friends, so many coffees and so many beers... Now I am sorting through an enormous mound of climbing gear, magazines and clothes at my parents house in North Van, wondering 'what the hell just happened?'

Before OR I spent some time in the bugaboos with Chris Brazeau. The bugs are a group of granite fingers south of Golden BC- an area I heard about for years but never visited. Chris and Jon Walsh had most of the gear stashed up there, so I rolled up there with a backpack full of beer, and not much else.

Brazeau is perhaps the most solid partner I have ever tied it with. He is eternally positive, eternally motivated and perpetually smiling. Though the weather was patchy, we managed to get out a few times and played around on the east face of Snowpatch. To be climbing 5.12 splitters above a glacier, with a great friend, is about as good as it gets.

Michael Reardon

2008-03-10T22:50:00.000-07:00

Just got back from Patagonia a week ago and leaving for Utah in a week... wow. Lots of travelling these days. I'm feeling a little blue after watching some Michael Reardon footage online of him soloing in the Needles of Southern California. Spine-tingly watching that guy solo, talk about soloing and knowing how alive he was a short time ago.

It's dangerous out there. Be careful.