>> December 2000 - January 2001
Too
Illegit to Quit: Canadian Soldiers Climb Bosnia_Lieutenant J. Brent
Peters
Climbing and the military have always
been synonymous for me. I was first exposed to rock while on a military
French language course in Qußbec, at the age of 17. Climbing became a
respite from the confines of that organization, and a passionate obsession.
Although at times, a career in Her Majesty1s Canadian Forces can be restrictive,
I should not complain. It has allowed me to climb from coast-to-coast
in North America and in Europe. When I was informed that I was slated
to go on tour in Bosnia, I embraced the order with both excitement and
reservation. As a new lieutenant, I would have the opportunity to command
my troop in real world operations. But what about the threat level? And,
more importantly, what about the climbing? Imagine my surprise when I
arrived at my camp in Zgon, Bosnia and found beautiful limestone cliffs
only kilometres away.
Getting permission to climb was not without its trials. In the CF, there are trained Mountain Operations Instructors (MOIs). Their cadre guards their qualification with jealous pride, as they are the only personnel that can take legal responsibility for CF members conducting mountaineering activities while on duty. Despite my lack of MOI qualifications. I made a reconnaissance of the cliffs, and thus caused an investigation of my activities. After putting my heels together in front of the Colonel and accepting my warning, I was able to negotiate a suitable policy for the Zgon Climbing Club. Lieutenant-Colonel Dave Barr, commander of the Canadian 3PPCLI Battle Group in Bosnia, has been very supportive of sporting activities. In fact, he has approved the certification of experienced climbers to be approved as site supervisors by the senior MOI for the duration of the tour.
A problem with climbing in Bosnia is land mines. Mountains are a land feature that funnels movements of soldiers and civilians alike. These natural obstacles have often been reinforced by destructive explosives. As a result, any movement from hard surface roads may only be safely done after the area has been cleared by a mine-detecting team. On a lighter note, another challenge is the heat. Temperatures are routinely in the high forties.
The Kljuc Castle area was cleared by the 2nd Engineering Regiment to conduct military rappelling activities, therefore access routes were already safe. The belay ledge at the base of the crag became known as the Officers1 Terrace, as it is a well-known fact that officers seldom work, but would rather relax and let the soldiers do their jobs for them. The route names have an anti-military slant, such as The Illegitimate Officer, and Too Illegit to Quit! As for bouldering, the castle walls offer long challenging traverses.
One sunny afternoon I was climbing a delightful pocketed face named Frog1s Eyes. The climb ends at the Frog Belay. As I clipped into the station, I peered into another large pocket where my pet frog lives. I had met him there four times. I spent a few moments pondering his predicament. He lives 20 m off the ground, in the middle of the rock face. It certainly hasn1t cramped his style, and he is still alive. I realize that this frog is kind of like me. I have been restricted by a way of life, but I am still pursuing my passion.
Lieutenant Peters is now back in Alberta where his proximity to the Rockies poses a greater danger to him than landmines ever did. <<
Alberta News
Canada's Biggest, Slowest Expedition Ever: ACCJACMA75X_Dave
Dornian
Never mind fast and light. Alpine speed is a crutch
for attention-deficit types who can't understand an activity without specs
or box scores. It's a lowbrow ethic that appeals to the nervous, the insecure,
and the arrogantly friendless. Not to say that Peter Croft traversing
the Sierras in trainers, or that Mark Twight climbing sleepless for 60
hours in Alaska isn't impressive. It's just that these kind of trips don't
look like they're much fun. Why do mountain endeavours plotted on the
back of an envelope deserve the most style points? Let's make a case for
slow and heavy. There is virtue in major expeditions to modest mountains.
And when I say expeditions, I mean the full calliope travelling circuses,
long-throw climbing projects with the production values of an Olympic
bid and the guest lists of royal weddings.
Take ACCJACMA75X, the 75th Anniversary Expedition to climb Mt. Alberta. Imagine a mountain hut wired to the rock on the northern fringe of the Columbia Icefields. The date is August 13, 2000, and the latest in a series of storms is covering the mountains in snow. Inside, in a room designed to sleep four, huddle 11 people. They share space with two weeks' worth of food and fuel, camera and optical equipment, satellite telephones, battery chargers, 40 pairs of chopsticks, power tools, paint, a circular saw, and several pairs of white linen gloves. There are two custom-built museum cases protecting segments of a 75 year-old ice axe. A day's travel away, more than 100 supporters, sponsors, and associate members of the expedition await news of their success. What do you do in a situation like this? You push everyone into each other's laps, open the whiskey, and fire up the stove to melt more snow. After all, there's enough fuel in camp to put a shuttle in orbit. Perhaps because of its remote location, Mt Alberta remained untouched long after more approachable summits in the area had all been climbed. Why Yuko Maki brought a team from Japan in 1925 to tackle it is open to speculation. But he did, and on July 21, 1925, nine people sat on Mt. Alberta1s summit. His team left an ice axe in the summit cairn.
Our expedition was born in 1995 when a Canadian Pacific historian and a Canmore hiking guide saw a great marketing hook hidden in the Japanese ascent. The climb's 75th Anniversary would occur in the year 2000. The two men got in touch with the Japanese Alpine Club to ask what they thought about a joint celebratory ascent. Trekking groups could be associated with the climb, and everyone could attend ceremonies and a formal dinner at the hotel in Jasper afterward.
By the summer of 2000, the idea had swollen into a blizzard of paper. There would be a book. An art exhibit opened. There was global media involvement. Perhaps there would be a parade. There were dignitaries and speeches. The Alpine Club of Canada, CP Air, the Jasper-Yellowhead Museum, Canadian Pacific Hotels, Parks Canada, the ACMG, The Edmonton Journal, and Alberta Tourism all became stakeholders. Logos were made, menus circulated for approval, and volunteers were put in charge of volunteers overseeing volunteers.
Four trekking groups and one climbing group were staged out of Canmore, each comprising about 15 visitors and at least five guides, interpreters, translators and cooks. None of these people went anywhere near Mount Alberta, but they visited locations throughout the Rockies before reassembling in Jasper for shopping and the big celebration. The six climbers (three Canadians and three Japanese) were labelled "Group F" on the schedule, which gives you some idea of their place in the grand scheme of things. The Canadians shared associations with previous summiters, the ACC, the ACMG, Parks Canada, CP Hotels, the Jasper-Yellowhead Museum and the Town of Jasper. The process employed by the Japanese Alpine Club to select their national delegates was too arcane to comprehend.
I was with "Group F," which was given a one week head start and told to be back in Jasper, victorious, showered, and ready for civic presentation by 2:30 p.m. on the afternoon of August 18th. We were told not to mind the presence of the HDTV crew, or the reporters from Sankai Media, or the visits from the President of the Alpine Club of Canada, travelling with the wife of the Japanese team leader, or the helicopters, or the fixed-wing fly-bys of the mountain by VIPs.
Once beneath our objective, it became apparent that it was going to take every bit of our collective mountain sense not to climb the peak. Inclement weather and a horizontal mile of summit cornice capping rotting ice, and waterfalls in the access gully were all saying down. But five years of planning and fund raising, sponsors, government involvement, history, tradition, 50 volunteers, 100 paying participants and cultural hubris combined to place a powerful hand on our backs. Keeping the actual climb in sight was like chasing a rogue clown doing a headstand on the handlebars of a hinged, asymmetric bicycle.
By the time we packed it all out, nine days after we had hiked in, the atmosphere surrounding the expedition was even more elaborate. White stretch vans crept through Jasper streets like they were carrying Central American death squads. Banners fluttered from every lightpost. Our team was introduced to the public in the town park to the tune of bad ethnic drumming from both sides of the Pacific. There were horses, wardens in Stetsons, and enough flash photographs to raise skin blisters. The following day, Ralph Klein, Alberta1s Provincial Premier, finally wrenched the runaway into the ditch. Prior to the hotel dinner that would acknowledge the reunited ice axe and the formal finish of ACCJACMA75X, the local chamber of commerce plied the Premier with municipal agendas and drink. The Premier's subsequent keynote speech, and the story in the papers the next Monday didn't have a lot to do with anything.
I believe that the Mt Alberta 75th Anniversary celebration was this country's biggest climbing expedition ever. No expedition was ever larger, slower moving or more elaborately planned. It had romance and popular appeal. What could be more poster-friendly than reuniting the halves of a legendary lost ice axe on the summit of a mountain 75 years after the first ascent? Our new friends proved to be great fun, the sponsor booty was plentiful, and all expenses were covered. Slow and heavy. Perhaps not exactly conquerors, but winners for sure.
Dave Dornian lives in Calgary and writes frequently in Gripped and other mountain publications.<<
The Banff Mountain Book and Film Festivals_David
Dornian
Every fall since 1975, a program of climbing,
skiing, kayaking, biking, and mountain films has been assembled and shown
in Banff. Seven years ago, the Festival expanded to include mountain literature
as well. The true importance of the Banff Festival, however, is only vaguely
connected to its glossy media products. Like any film or book festival,
the actual screening of films is largely for the benefit of the ticket-buying
public. Prizes are awarded to satisfy consumer expectations. Competition
categories come and go with their sponsors. The real heart of the Banff
Festival is the community, with its opportunity to exchange ideas and
make plans for next year1s books or films or big climbs.
If you're in the house and actually crack a cover or enter a darkened auditorium for any purpose other than to promote one of your own projects or escape the consequences of too much booze on the previous evening, take it as an admission of defeat. That said, you should buy tickets, if only to hear the live speakers and attend the forums. But be assured that the books at Banff will wait for the long nights of winter, and that any films you miss will play repeatedly on the cable outdoors channels, or show up as video rentals at local shops.
For the millennium, the Banff Centre for Mountain Culture extended the Festivals usual schedule by two days to include a climbers Summit. This event put you in chairs while luminaries from previous Festivals discussed The Future of Climbing. The talk show format was stilted and contrived, but it was still intimidating to find yourself in the same room with Anderl Heckmair, Riccardo Cassin, and Sir Edmund Hillary, or with Lynn Hill, Ron Kauk, and Peter Croft, or Jeff Lowe, Silvo Karo, and Leo Houlding. No matter who your heroes were, there they were, large as life. Sir Christian Bonington? Bad British teeth. Guy Lacelle? Even brought his dog. Don't worry if you missed the live event, though, because most guests read from essays they'd written months in advance. Their words are already available in a book containing the Summit1s proceedings: Voices from the Summit, edited by McDonald and Amatt. Get it, if only because photographer Craig Richards1 portraits introducing each article are worth the cover price by themselves. While the personal essays are a mixed bag, one so seldom finds these people in a reflective mood, free to speculate on their game, that you can forgive a few howlers. The Book Festival featured its usual seminars and readings, with notable shows by Mick Fowler and Bradford Washburn. Fowler is one of the premier advocates of alpine style in the Himalayas, and he had the butt-shots to prove it. Washburn1s photographic and cartographic work made a whole century of climbing accomplishments possible. Washburn1s beautiful collection took the Alberta Sections of the Alpine Club of Canada1s Phyllis and Don Munday Award of $2000, the grand prize of the Book Festival. Chic Scott came close to sweeping all the other book categories with his compulsively readable history of Canadian climbing, Pushing the Limits, and then capped a banner year by accepting the Banff Festival's Bill March Summit of Excellence Award for his overall contribution to Canadian mountaineering.
My favourite moment came backstage at the awards ceremony. At rehearsal the day before, prize-winners were told to keep their comments brief. Chic had proudly shown me how he would limit himself by restricting his notes to the cover of a matchbook. Now, hideously hungover from impromptu partying, swaying in the darkened wings of the Eric Harvey Theatre as the MC announces his name, Chic hastily roots in his pocket. He withdraws a crumpled pill of paper between thumb and forefinger and holds it up to his eyes, squinting in pain and disbelief. <<
Quebec News
Legalize Limestone in Quebec_Stephane Lapierre
Bic Provincial Park in Quebec may be the best summer
limestone sea cliff in North America. There are amazing futuristic sport
climbs to be done here, not to mention the best bouldering in Quebec.
The Federation quebecoise de la montagne et de l'escalade and the Climbing
Club of the Lower St. Lawrence have petitioned for the past seven years
to legalize climbing here. During this time, studies have demonstrated
that climbing would not endanger any rare plant or bird species. Moreover,
the cliffs in question represent a mere 2% of the cliffs that lie within
the boundaries of the park. Despite this situation, the issue of access
to the cliffs for climbing has not yet been resolved. There is no question
that a rapid resolution of the access problem would benefit the Park as
well as the surrounding area. Were climbing permitted on these steep limestone
walls, the Bic would surely rank among the top sport climbing destinations
in Canada. In conjunction with the many other activities that the Lower
St. Lawrence offers, such as kayaking and mountain biking, climbing would
help attract outdoor enthusiasts to the region from across North America
and around the world. We urge you to write in support of climbing access
to:
Directeur adjoint des parcs, Sepaq
801, chemin Saint-Louis
Qußbec, QC
G1S 1C1
Nova Scotia
Another New Bouldering Area
Ghislain Losier In late fall, while most of Canada
was already stuck bouldering inside, Halifax continued to offer prime
conditions on real rock. In early fall, Nick Sagar added more testpieces,
but this time at a new area conveniently located in his own backyard.
This vast, undulating field of tundra littered with hundreds of granite
boulders, but with only a select few big enough to play on, is reminiscent
of the landscape at the Land of Confusion. Beginners won1t find much to
do here since half the problems are harder than V5. Nick1s hardest creation
to date is Pushed (V9), a vertical power problem which was later repeated
by Ghislain Losier after many attempts. Just around the corner, Inbangyang
(V8) slaps out of a steep belly, ending with an all-out throw to a wide
pinch. If power isn1t your forte, why not give Bar fight (V8/9?) a try?
This sloper traverse is a true hand-foot shuffle match but the real fight
comes at the end. While hanging with a right heel hook above your head,
you desperately slap up the arète. Finally, Resurrection (V10) saw its
first repeat by Losier after three days of work. Clearly, the energy level
in Halifax is higher than ever.
Alberta News
Mixed Mania Continues in Rockies_Sean Isaac
Friendly
competition and a new mixed climbing guide book have prompted a frenzy
of development. Classics like Amadeus (III M5 WI4+) and Red Man Soars
(III M5+ WI4+) came in with the first freeze but the ice on these and
many other routes was thin and brittle. Numerous attempts were made on
big mixed lines in Kananaskis Country and the Icefields Parkway but warm
temperatures meant that by the time the mercury dipped below freezing
for good, locals were honed and ready for action.
One of the first new mixed lines to go was Bus Pass, located on a small cliff at the base of Mt Athabasca, by Eamonn Walsh, Josh Briggs and Aaron Beardmore. Walsh fired the M6 WI5 R pitch on marginal gear. The Spray Lakes area of Kananaskis Country received most of the early season attention. In late September Walsh and Rob Owens did a new mixed line on the remote northeast face of Mt Betty. Wild Bunch (WI6 R/X 5.7) is a 400m long alpine route sporting sustained thin ice with no gear which leads all the way to the summit. Mt Warspite produced two new traditional lines by Owens, Walsh and Raphael Slawinski. Imaginary Goat (IV 5.7 WI5 R, 150m) and Spite (IV M4 WI4, 80 m). Both boast a reasonable walking-to-climbing ratio. On nearby Mt Indefatigable, Super Squash (M6+) was gang climbed by Walsh, Steve Holeczi, Todd Learn, Eric Hoogstraten and Graham McLean. On the other extreme, with a very unreasonable walking-to-climbing ratio, Will Gadd, Kim Csizmazia and Holeczi found Shut Up and Walk (IV WI5+ R) which requires a five-hour approach up the back side of the Big Sister in Canmore. The ice smears of Ranger Creek on the Smith-Dorrien Spray Trail in Kananaskis Country are always the first to form. Eric Dumerac's 1997 Thin Universe (M6) saw many repeats and he returned this winter to add two bolted routes: Astro Turf (M7+) with Shawn King on the right and Atmospheric Burn-Up (M8-) on the left. In the Ghost, Dumerac drilled DSB AKA Dangerous Sperm Buildup (M7) right up the middle of GBU (WI4-5+). A five-minute walk left of GBU and just left of the entrance to the Valley of the Birds, Shawn Huisman, in conjunction with Shelly Huisman and Sean Isaac, put up two short but steep mixed lines: Freebird (M6+) and Dodo Bird (M8-). Walsh, Dumerac and Holeczi teamed up for the obvious hanging dagger above Red Commie Star in Boom Valley. After climbing the grade 4 ice of Red Commie Star, their Brown Star Cosmonaut works up steep quartzite past 10 bolts (M7) to the icicle. It is destined to become a classic. In the same valley, Chris Fink and Quinton Tigchelaar made the first ascent of the two pitch Jedi Mind Tricks (M7, 45m) which climbs thin grade 3 ice past an anemic dagger, clipping five bolts.
In the past few years, Isaac and Dave Thomson have made the Stanley Headwall in Kootenay National Park a multi-pitch mixed climbing destination. They returned this fall to open Thriller (IV M8+/M9- WI5), a mixed version of the usually unformed ice route, Killer Pillar (IV WI5+). The crux first pitch thugs out a 5m horizontal roof past six bolts to gain the ice blob in the middle. Pitch two dry tools up an M8- corner before hopping on the brittle upper pillar. Within a week of the first ascent, it saw at least five repeats. As Will Gadd says, 3Everybody around here is getting really good, really fast. <<
