Climbing the Angel’s Crest
“If it weren’t for the rain Squamish would be the best climbing area in the world.” So said my girlfriend Roxanne as I fetched her off a flight from Colorado in the Vancouver airport. Several years ago Roxanne had endured a year and a half working in Seattle and she’d been traumatized by northwest rain. Now that we lived in a nearly rainless Colorado, at least when compared to Squamish, we were convinced our climbing foray to the northwest would be soaked.
We battled through downtown Vancouver, one of the most spectacular cities in the world. My friend Chris from Victoria gave us explicit instructions: “get on Granville, go left on Georgia, over the Lionsgate Bridge and your there, pretty much…” I was convinced we’d end up lost on the lower east side asking junkies for directions. Chris was right though, and we found ourselves blasting up the shiny new, Olympic ready, Sea-To-Sky Highway the evening summer sun dipping towards Bowen Island and the Georgia Strait illuminating crystalline skies with no rain in sight.
Squamish is a town in transition. The sounds and sights of the old Squamish still pervade the landscape: raw logs stuffed into a corner of Howe Sound, awaiting export, and steam from the pulp mill rising incessantly. But the new Squamish is emerging, girding for the world stage in the winter of 2010 when the long awaited Vancouver-Whistler Olympics finally arrive. Once a purely resource town filled with tough, hard-edged loggers, Squamish now boasts the title “Outdoor Recreation Capital of Canada.”
Kite and wind surfers tear it up on Howe Sound, mountain bikers are seen heading out or coming back form the host of epic rides, skiers flock to the region in the winter for the famed Whistler Blackcomb and for the heralded Coast Range backcountry. But the reason we came to Squamish was for the rock climbing.
Dominating the town is the Chief, a proud mass of bulletproof granite that serves up some of the best crack climbing in the universe. Unfortunately for us we only have three days to get a taste of it. We start on the five-pitch Rock On, a 5.10B classic on the north side of the Apron. After a winter of indoor climbing, it takes a few pitches to get used to placing nuts and cams again, but the solid Squamish granite provides absurdly solid placements that inspire confidence and courage in even the most timid bolt-clipper. Squamish in undoubtedly a traditional area but compared to areas like Eldorado Canyon, our home turf in Colorado, it is far less intimidating. The gear is consistently good and abundant, the rock is as solid as the day it was carved out by retreating glaciers, and the cracks practically suck your hands into sticky jams that are often harder to get out of than into. I love Eldorado but I would trade it in a second for this place.
The penultimate pitch of Rock-On is my welcome to Squamish: a long hand crack, with solid protection all the way to the cozy ledge with stunning views of the town and the surrounding valley. I arrive pumped and satisfied with an empty rack. I wish we had more than just three days.
The next day we wake up at five am and by six we are hiking up to the classic 14-pitch adventure the Angel’s Crest. First climbed in 1964 by Fred Becky and Eric Bjornstad, the route is a time-tested classic. Rising over 1200 feet to the top of the Chief and in the shade most of the day, the route offers everything from superb 5.10 cracks, run-out slabs, arduous chimneys and gritty tromps through forests. There is even a totem pole at mid-height.
The hike to the base is over in 15 minutes and soon Roxanne is racked up and climbing the first 5.8 grunge pitch. We hear voices in the forest heading up to the base and our early strategy is vindicated, as we are the first party on the route. Rox tops out on a luxurious ledge and I follow the pitch, methodically removing her gear. As I approach the belay, views of the classic pitch the Angel Crack, emerge. A perfect 5.10b right arcing finger crack stands before me. The pitch climbs as good as it looks, finger lock follows a bomber hand jam to another trucker nut placement to a perfect cam. Before long I’m at the two-bolt belay sensing an oncoming granite addiction. 5.10B in Eldorado Canyon can be terrifying, in Squamish it’s pure fun.
The adventure continues up the ridge. The climbing ramps up to some airy 5.10c face moves, well protected by ½ inch bolts. Soon we are at the Sasquatch Ledge, which is more like a small forest. We stumble upon the totem pole and wonder at the effort expended to haul it half way up the Chief.
At this point the route finding gets more difficult and our eyes dart back and forth from the route to the topo. The Acrophobe stands before us, a freestanding rock-climb within a rock-climb. Rox handles the run-out 5.7 and we are soon rappelling of the back of the Acrophobe. A few 5.8 grunge pitches take us to a small, exposed ledge under the second to last pitch of the route: a five star 5.10c hand to chimney and back to hands crack that hangs a thousand plus feet over the town of Squamish. The gear is solid and the climbing flows, and despite getting stuck in the Chimney for a moment, a struggle up the final jams and top-out on a palatial ledge. Rox follows and has to remove her helmet in the wide section to get in deep enough too remove my gear. The comedy of it all trumps her annoyances with fat cracks.
Rox grabs the rack for the last pitch and muscles through the awkward and exposed 5.8 chimney. We pose at the top for some photos, take our last sip of water and start the long hike down the back of the chief. We stumble to the car, toss the gear in and head straight to the pub for burgers and beers and plans for another Squamish trip next year. Later that night I re-read the passage in Kevin McLane’s excellent guide about the Angel’s Crest that I had at first ignored. The Angel’s Crest “is longer and more tiring for more climber’s than it may appear.” True indeed.
The irony of it all is that for the entirety of our time in the northwest not a drop of rain fell, while Boulder was pummeled by thunderstorms and BC west coast style rain. We lucked out.
http://www.tourismsquamish.com/
Even with the rain (and there really isn’t that much of it…) we like to think Squamish is the best climbing area in the world. Look forward to having you back in our area for your next visit!