Imagination, Climbing and Biking

Without imagination we would never get out the door and do anything, but it’s strange how often imagination fails to align with reality. In my dreams, it is always a sunny warm winters day at the crag and I’m crushing the routes, climbing easily with no fear at all. In reality, when you arrive at the crag, it’s cold, damp and overcast with a bitter wind blowing, and several seasons have rain have turned the climbs black with slippery lichen or more simply into cascading streams of water. You find yourself back at the old climbs you’ve done before only they feel much harder than they did a few years ago. Strangely, although everything feels a struggle with stiff limbs in the cold and cramped fingers, it’s still stupidly fun!

A quiet camp down a rough track for the night with a bright moon presaged by a glowing sunset was a good end to our first day. Next morning, we rode the mountain bikes along an old road across open plains where the vegetation is sparse because the soil is shallow over the large sandstone plateaus. Below the south ridge of the little peak we were climbing, we found a foot-pad, very unexpected, but welcome although the bush was not thick. Within 20 minutes we were on the little summit, the views mostly to the west from the short sandstone cliffs that surround the top.

Back down at the old road, we continued riding, dipping down a steep decline to cross a creek, a tributary of the main river that runs all the way to the ocean mere minutes from our own home. The road climbs again, and, where it crests, we left the bikes and hiked 100 metres (elevation gain) uphill through light timber to the location of the trig. For the first time I can remember, we didn’t find the trig – it must have completely burnt in the fires - but we did find a lunch spot on another sandstone slab looking out over the valley and the deep gorge eroded as the river runs out to the sea.

The next day, my muscles are stiff and sore, but I convince myself that another climbing day will be fun. The wall looks even blacker than the last time we were here, the moist air after an overnight shower making the holds greasy and slick. The climbs are good, but most definitely sand-bags, but we know this, having climbed here before. Despite easy access, reasonable parking, shelter from the westerlies and high quality routes this little crag sees little traffic. I think the average climber looks at the grades and thinks the climbs are too easy and dull, but, these short routes pack a punch and if you want a workout on steep and overhanging climbs with very few positive holds, you can get it here.

One weekend we were at this little crag when a gaggle of parents and children showed up along with two young and obviously hard-men (one was a woman so this is non-gendered) climbers. The role of the young climbers was to put up a couple of ropes for the kids to climb. The woman, in approach shoes, jumped on a grade 11 climb to put up the first rope. All went well to the first clip, and fell apart quickly afterwards when she became increasingly panicked until she finally pulled the top moves by laying on knees and belly to get the last clip. I can’t speak for the woman, but I felt a lot better after that. The kids, of course, couldn’t climb anything, but that didn’t stop the parents from telling five to eight year olds to “toe in” to that hold, or “match feet,” which virtually no child in that age group can either understand or do.

Probably they were having fun, or they might have been thinking “this isn’t how I imagined it.”

Another Word for Decommission is Chop

The first time I went to Waterline Wall in Castlegar to climb it was 2006. I went with Hamish, who later became one of the major route developers. In those days, there were a handful of routes only, perhaps a half dozen, almost all of which were gear routes (trad) and at least 5.10 or above. My notes for the day are interesting, particularly in hindsight with the extreme popularity that Waterline eventually achieved. Here they are reproduced below, and, at first glance, you would have to wonder why we ever went back.

Hamish on the first ascent of Golden Triangle, 
his 3 star 10a line

There are three marked moderate routes - one 5.6 and two 5.7's - none of which look very appealing - they are dirty and look to be full of loose blocks. We ended up starting out on a 5.6, which Hamish led. This goes somewhere up a crag with a big crack/chimney on the left and a crack on the right. Going up the chimney would be close to 5.6 if not for dirt, loose rock and trees, whereas going up the small crack and face is definitely harder than 5.6 and had Hamie breathing heavily and placing lots of gear. I struggled up behind Hamish, taking the easy chimney route where possible. A thoroughly unappealing climb.

Next we toproped a 10a in a big corner. This is an epic undertaking if you set up a bell-ringer, as although the anchor bolts are easy to reach, the climb is long and requires two ropes to set up a bell-ringer. This climb is very good in the upper half. The bottom half is dirty (dirt on the rock and in the crack) but the upper corner is quality climbing. 

Hamish on the first ascent of his classic

 4 star 5.10 a/b route V-20 at Waterline

Within a year, we were climbing at Waterline regularly, Hamish was putting up new routes (with a variety of partners) at a great rate, and those dirty corners, cracks and faces were cleaning up and revealing dozens of high quality routes. That initial route was Black Arrow and is now rated 5.7 (probably soft), the small crack and face is Pilots Crack and one of the best gear 5.8’s in the area, and the big corner with quality climbing in the upper half is The Big Corner, 5.10a, and is now described as “an all round excellent climb.”

Hamish on Tastes Like Saffron

Just under a year later, in April which is about as early as outdoor rock climbing used to start in the West Kootenays, Doug, Hamish and Kyle, completed the first ascent of Tastes Like Saffron, rating it 5.7 and installing four protection bolts for the 18 metre route. This became one of only six sport routes under 5.9 at Waterline Wall. There are lots of quality routes at Waterline, but very few for the novice climber.

Kyle on the first ascent of

Tastes Like Saffron

Fast forward almost 20 years (18) and, on the local community rock climbing page, someone anonymous (never a good look) suggested the route be “decommissioned” which is another word for chopped; which is also, when you are talking about a route that has been in existence for almost two decades in a well known sport climbing area, one or all of several things: weird, hubristic, excessively safety conscious, rude, or silly. The OP (original poster for old people) wrote:

Call me crazy but I think Tastes Like Saffron 5.7 at Ravens wall, Waterline should be decommissioned as a sport route. Perhaps it’s got history I’m unaware of but I reckon that thing is an accident waiting to happen. I very much agree with the one comment about this line on sendage.

Kyle, FA of Taste of Saffron

Gob-smackingly, there were half a dozen comments from people who had never climbed the route (or at least if they had could not remember it) in agreement with one person (a former ski buddy of ours) even suggesting that the fixed gear (paid for by Hamish) be harvested and used on their own routes. Back in the day, this was called “stealing.” But back in the day, if we wanted to change, chop, or upgrade a route that someone else had put in, we did them the courtesy of contacting them! Especially when Hamish literally lives down the road from the crag! WTF are you thinking! This is the age of AI, the information you seek is available within about 20 seconds. I know what I was thinking: “This is how Canadians elected WEF puppet Mark Carney as Prime Minister after watching Justin Trudeau spend the better part of a decade destroying Canada.” Elbows up; clearly, there are a lot of people who are easily influenced by bad ideas!

Tastes Like Saffron

Of course, I let my mate Hamish know, and, along with a couple of other climbers who haven’t yet taken so many knocks to the head that they have addled their brains, the suggestion to “decommission” (aka chop) the route was soundly defeated. A case of the wisdom of crowds, but if the initial crowds had been left unchecked a decent route would have been destroyed for no reason.

Hamish on his route Silk Road

The reality is climbing can never be made completely safe, nor should it be. Waterline is not a great place for beginners who “max out on 5.7,” because there are only two sport routes and two trad routes that are 5.7 and under. History is important, Hamish (who is over 80 now) would have kicked the arse of any of these young climbers snivelling on a 5.7, and deserves some respect for his multitudinous contributions to climbing most of which were completed in an era when gear was worse (significantly), access was difficult, and, to quote Hamish “chickenshit bastards” would never have survived.

A Book Review: Sort Of

Well, I am back from my regular Sydney visit where the inhabits are being slowly boiled alive by a surging population intended to convince everyone that Australia has not been in a per capita recession for a few years. As I sat through multiple traffic light cycles to make every single turn, I wondered if I could actually live in a city again. I don’t think so. It’s pretty grim. There is an awful lot of roadside trash and, unlike down here on the South Coast, no-one walks around with trash bags cleaning up. Someone else is responsible, I guess.

It’s good to know that, here in Australia, the lucky country, we rank lower than Senegal and Bangladesh on economic complexity. We are, and I quote “one of the least self-sufficient and sophisticated economies in the world.” That is the problem with natural resources, whether held by a country or an individual. It’s human nature to squander them. We don’t seem to properly appreciate anything we have not earned.

My Mum’s care home was in some sort of public health mandated semi-lockdown because Covid had been detected in the residence. This isn’t a surprise as they nasally and orally penetrate the residents on a regular basis engaging in tests for something that is mostly symptom free and can only be diagnosed with testing. My Mum is 92, almost 93. She has survived the Great Depression, World War II, bearing three children (and one miscarriage), strokes, heart attacks, the early death of her husband, Covid, and the great lock-downs of 2020. At this point, I think she is like a cockroach, nothing will kill her, not least a minor virus where the average age of death (even at it’s acme) exceeded the average age of death. That’s not a koan like what is the sound of one hand clapping. It is, in fact, evidence of the greatest mass hysteria perpetrated on the world for a century (or more).

Before I went in to visit her, I had to stick a popsicle stick up my nose for the ridiculous RAT test and wear a mask. Which, for a logical person such as myself, is more than a bit maddening. The horse, as the expression goes, has already bolted; Covid is alive and well in the facility. I wouldn’t mind these things so much if they weren’t so transparently ludicrous. A six year old child has the reasoning ability to see that this is performative nonsense.

Speaking of performative nonsense, the book you have to read if you want to understand woke is “We Have Never Been Woke,” by Musa al-Gharbi. It explains all the strange contradictions and, dare I say hypocrisy's that are evident among the people who drive the discourse in Australia today. The book covers everything from the left’s new thrilling obsession with multi-national pharmaceutical industries (who’ve never been known to engage in unethical behaviour!) to the endless bromidic land acknowledgements from people who have no inclination whatsoever of giving back their private property despite acknowledging they are on stolen land. How does that work? I embezzle several million dollars, acknowledge my fraud, then crack on with “living my best life” on the fraudulently obtained money. Sounds like a good gig actually.

Finally, I’ll close with what I should have opened with: a trigger warning. Don’t read this if you are easily offended. Otherwise, have a nice day.