Monday, July 9, 2012

Home and the Adventure Centre
 The rain came and stayed and when it hangs around in Squamish, it means business. Five days of non-stop deluge does not good climbing days make. So, in between hiding out in the van for long periods, warming my seat at the soon to be renamed, Simon Weill Adventure Centre and daytime naps, we managed a little bit of climbing in damp caves. Similar to anywhere else in the world, there always seems to be somewhere sort of dry, where the uber psyched gather. However, as with all such venues, they are inevitably dank and spoogy. Whilst, we did manage to get out and about and do a few easier classics, not much else was achieved. 
Reagan on Black Hole, V11

No Troublems, V10
But then, as had been promised for days, the cloud lifted and out came the sun and it has been blazing away nicely ever since. What a relief and a welcome sight it is too. I've had a great time over the past few days, doing plenty of climbing each day with a great bunch of people. It's absolutely incredible to be able to climb until late in the evening and still cook in the light, though waking up to dawn at 4am is slightly less on the scale of awesome. I've managed to tick off a few harder things, but have been shut down a little by the technical aspect of some of the climbs. Most things up to V10 seem pretty straight forward, but there is a big step up from there and I guess, like anywhere, summer is not the ideal time to climb, even when it is dry. Whatever, it's been totally worthwhile. 
The forest of Squamish is exactly what I was hoping for, huge old cedars and birch trees stretching their way toward the sky, moss covered, dank, lush and full of life. Even the idea of bears and cougars being present sets the imagination alight and gives the place a primal, other worldly feel, and I love it. 
I hiked the Chief yesterday, along with just about every other human being from Vancouver, which detracted slightly from the 'nature' experience, but the view more than made up for my disappointment at being stuck behind and amongst a conga line of patagonia clad dawdlers. 
The view from the Chief

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