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Mike Doyle: one of Canada’s first to climb 5.14 is still pushing it

From El Capitan big walls and bagging peaks in the Canadian Rockies to coaching Canada's leading climbers, his life as a climber has been nothing short of outstanding

Photo by: Brandon Pullan

The 2006 Youth World Cup was held at the imposing overhanging gym of Kletterzentrum Imst, in the Austrian Tirol. There had been challenges in putting on the event. The outdoor wall where the speed climbing was meant to be held was closed due to rain and the speed finals were being moved indoors.

During the finals, Canadian climbers Sean McColl and Katie Mah were in ISO with their coach, Mike Doyle. “Mah was really nervous,” remembers Doyle, “but went out and crushed it, finishing in third. She had been my athlete, and so she made me cry.”

It would be McColl’s last year of youth world championships, and he was Canada’s most decorated comp climber. Doyle had coached McColl since he had started climbing at The Edge gym in Vancouver.

“Mike was just sitting there, checking the start list,” said McColl. “Thirty minutes before I went out, he asked if he could make me a boulder problem. He did, and that was his way. I did it and Mike said, ‘You know what to do,’ like he always did. I went out and won lead, then the next day, speed climbing.”

While McColl trained with Doyle, he also became the youngest person to climb 5.14a, and the first Canadian to climb 5.14d, with his ascent of Chris Sharma’s Dreamcatcher, 5.14d, in Squamish in 2009. In 2021, with Alannah Yip, he became one of Canada’s first Olympic comp climbers. He acknowledges the important role Doyle has had in his development and attributes it to his former coach’s skills, but also his character.

“Mike Doyle is a special breed,” said McColl. “He’s insanely motivated and a hard worker, and he’s always there when you need something – a belayer, a car to borrow – he will be there.”

Doyle was born in the 1977 in Kelowna, a medium-sized city in B.C.’s Okanagan Valley, with lots of outdoor opportunities. He was third in a family of four boys.

Doyle’s family was active in the outdoors, but they weren’t climbers. At 11, some of his older friends got to go rock climbing with a school program, but the cut-off was age 13. “I was really upset,” Doyle said, but two years later, he joined the program and became an instant fanatic.

“The program was mostly snow travel, glacier travel, ticking off different peaks,” said Doyle, who loved it so much he wanted to become a mountain guide. A trip where he spent a week in a tent in the snow below Mount Robson, waiting for conditions that never came changed his career plans. “After that,” said Doyle, “I was over it.”

There were only a couple of rock-climbing sessions each year but they soon became Doyle’s favourite part of the program. By the time Doyle was 14, he and his friend Todd Guy had their own gear and spent every spare moment climbing. They got their parents to drive them to Skaha, which was quickly turning into a major rock-climbing area, and leave them there for the weekends.

“It was the heyday of Skaha climbing,” said Doyle. “Hugh Lenney, Peter Arbic, and Geoff Creighton, my first climbing hero, were really encouraging us to get on harder stuff.”

photo Mike Doyle Collections

In 1993, when Doyle was 16, Beyond the Crux, the first climbing gym in the city, opened. At first, he and Guy weren’t that intrigued, because Mike had just gotten his driver’s license, and they could finally take themselves to the crag. The tragic Garnet fire of 1994, however, restricted climbing plans in British Columbia. Thousands of hectares were burned, more than 3,500 people had to evacuate and dozens lost their homes. Compared to this tragedy, the closure of climbing at Skaha was a minor inconvenience. Doyle and Guy were disappointed when they had to restrict themselves to climbing indoors, but they found ways to make the most of it. “Beyond the Crux,” Doyle remembered, “was just 18 feet high and 80 feet long, but it had an awesome boulder cave, and a roof that went the whole length of the gym, so we soon were doing laps on that.”

Doyle’s first lead comp was in Kamloops in 1994. “The gym owner was notoriously cheap,” he said. “They hired route setters to set for the comp, but not to stay for comp. Before we climbed, he asked the spectators if anyone knew how to lead belay. The first comp climber did the route, then belayed. There was a tie in finals, so he set the tie-breaker by turning the holds upside-down.”

“I was training through winter and got quite excited about comp climbing,” said Doyle. “It was kind of my thing.” When they got back on the rock, they were stronger than ever, but after they graduated, Doyle moved for school to Burnaby in Metropolitan Vancouver. Guy started losing interest in climbing, while Doyle’s passion grew every day.

Doyle spent a year in college, but realized that what he really wanted to do was climb as much as possible. He took a break from school and worked for a year in construction to save money to climb.

In 1996, Doyle competed in his first event outside of North America, the Moscow Junior World Championship. Some of The other Canadians at the comp were Jeremy Smith, Steve Jacobsen, Tobin Seagal and Kathryn Embacher. “I had some culture shock,” he said. “People were very anti-Western. You couldn’t buy bread if you didn’t speak Russian. The wall was old, the routes were different than anything I had experienced, the comp went long, one of the vans we were in was hit by a drunk driver. So many things messed up. Two Canadian climbers were jailed, but Embacher came third.”

But the adventure only strengthened Doyle’s intention to become the best comp climber he could be. And training for comps didn’t only make Doyle a better competitor, it also made him stronger than ever on the rock. In 1997, Doyle put up No More Foreplay, Skaha’s first 5.13.

Gym owners still held comps as crowd-attracting novelties, as well as athletic events and were willing to host comps, even if they had to close for a day. Doyle started to give back to the scene himself by coaching juniors. “I would be stronger if I didn’t coach,” he said, “but I didn’t realize it at the time. I felt like coaching was a way to grow the sport, stay motivated and do more research that I could apply to my training and coaching. Also, I always had people to climb with.”

After his family moved to Burnaby, Doyle started training and coaching at the Edge. “I did really well in local and Pacific northwest events,” he said. “But I went to a comp in Colorado, I didn’t podium because I was playing against big boys – Chris Sharma, Steve Hong and Dave Graham. Then, in New York City, I was first in finals, then I botched it. I was climbing against giants.”

He also started working in the software industry. His schedule at the time showed a dedication that few climbers with full time jobs would dare to match. “I would wake up at 5 a.m.,” said Doyle. “Go to the office for 5:30 or 6, work until 3:30, head to the gym, coach until 7 p.m., and train the rest of the evening after that.”

In the late ’90s, he got involved in the National Team scene. The Edge became an unofficial centre for elite training and eventually produced both of Canada’s first climbing Olympians, Alannah Yip and Sean McColl.

Doyle, along with Vancouver’s Andrew Wilson, became one of Canada’s first elite competition climbing trainers. “Programs have to be individualized for different climbers,” said Doyle. “They have to be prepared for competition. You have to have conversations with them. It takes time, but with the national team, you only get to see the kids a few times. One of the things lost in coaching for comps is that everyone wants it to be fun, but you can’t just focus on that, kids have to have the desire to win. It’s not fun all the time. A Spanish coach gave me this advice: just make it an environment where the kid wants to show up. A 13-to-14-year-old will get better at climbing just by doing it. The basic desire to go the gym has to be there, but the coach has to crack the whip.”

Doyle learned from his own experience that the kids weren’t the only obstacles to their own performance. “You’d have to learn their cues, the stuff they should think about,” he said. “When I competed, at 17 or 18. I was new to comps and I got nervous. My mom would come and watch me and gasp when she thought I was having difficulty. I kicked her out, even though she was upset. On the other hand, I told my dad to say, ‘Breathe, Mike, breathe.’ That was helpful. I learned that some kids have negative cues, maybe someone who says something like ‘good luck,’ or ‘you’ve got this.’ Even if that person has flown to Germany to see their kid compete, I will kick them out to help the kid win.”

In the eight years Doyle spent coaching the national team, he saw the development of many of the country’s best climbers, including McColl. In 1997, when he first met the future Olympian, McColl was just ten years old. He would go on to become one of the most successful competitors in climbing history, a four-time overall world champion with five world cup victories, 11-time Canadian open champion, and a competitor on American Ninja Warrior with V15 and 5.14 sends on rock.

“I met Mike at a comp at The Edge in North Vancouver,” said McColl. “I won in the beginner category and he won open. I was standing at the scoreboard, thinking, ‘Who’s Mike Doyle?’ Mike was very elitist and didn’t even acknowledge me! He’s changed, though. He played a huge role in my becoming athlete, can’t over state it, or even do it justice. Without Mike, I wouldn’t be the competitor I am today.”

From the beginning, said Doyle, he could see that McColl had unusual talent and drive, but “he had to learn, too.”

“Mike shaped my mental prowess,” said McColl. “If I’m looking at a boulder, thinking about what to do, I look at it the way Mike would. Only Mike could break me mentally. You have to understand how the person you’re coaching perceives things. My mental approach has been sculpted into the way he thinks. He knew what to say if I was too cocky. He taught me everything to do with mental and physical time.”

“At Sean’s first worlds,” said Doyle, “he was confused by the sequences. Year two was a big validation for him when he won his first world championship. It was a peak experience for me. He climbed superbly under pressure, so he dominated.”

When McColl turned 16, he and Doyle competed in Bulgaria together, then travelled to Slovenia to climb before they went to a World Cup in Italy. They got to know each other pretty well, not just as coach and athlete, but as climbers in their own right. McColl, says Doyle, “has a competitive drive, he’s one of the most competitive people I know. His performance ability was unbelievable, natural movement skill is great, but not incredible, but he has accurate feet and the ability to win, even at practice. He wanted to win every time he played chess. That kind of drive can only partly be taught. It has to come from within.”

Doyle is a rare climber whose achievements on rock of all kinds equal his efforts in comp climbing. In 2012, he flashed Millennium, 5.14a, in Maple Canyon, Utah. In 2015, he climbed Necessary Evil, 5.14c, in the Virgin River Gorge on his 59th attempt. His commitment to that route was such that afterwards, in order to work on the route as much as possible, he rented a small, unfurnished apartment 20 minutes away in Mesquite, Nev.

This twin stoke for comps and rock has helped him stay friends with former athletes who drifted away from the gym to pursue their passion for the outdoors.

Doyle first met Will Stanhope when he was seven years-old. “I’ve known Will since he was seven,” said Doyle. “He was already competing and I think he won a few national events for the younger categories. He was funny, even when he was 10. He was a talented competition climber, but other climbers got better at comps and he didn’t.” Understandably, Stanhope was distracted by the incredible long routes and boulders of Squamish. “He would come to comps,” said Doyle, “and show up at training. I always wanted him on the team, but I could pick people I wanted to coach, and he could be a disruption because he was always talking about climbing outdoors and was too tired from rock routes to train. He wasn’t going to worlds, so I understood his position, it was different for Will than it was for Sean.”

“I just dislike the whole comp environment,” said Stanhope, “and recognized that not everyone was cut out for it.”

Stanhope’s achievements on granite routes, however, followed a similarly spectacular vector to McColl’s success in competitions. He made four free ascents of El Capitan, linked up all the west faces of the Howser Towers in the Bugaboos in a day at 5.12+, free soloed 5.12+ and climbed 5.14 cracks like Squamish’s Cobra Crack.

Doyle, in addition to his comp success, always maintained his trad skills and is a lifelong runner. He points out that he is not alone in combining interests in trad and comp climbing. American Steve Schneider became a coach after a career as a renowned El Capitan speed climber. He joined Stanhope on his free ascent of El Capitan’s El Corazon, 5.13b, although Doyle wasn’t able to free every pitch himself. “It was a crazy experience,” said Doyle “I never hauled or spent a night on the wall before, or did the Nose in a day. Stanhope is just a granite master.”

“Mike’s spent so much time sport climbing,” said Stanhope of Doyle’s climbing on El Capitan. “He can get a hold and yank all day. He’s always super motivated. His main strength as a coach is his astute analysis of strengths and weaknesses. He can come across as gruff, but he has the biggest heart. He’s-not afraid to accept feedback. Coming from Mike, it’s never mean, just useful.”

After 12 years in Vancouver, working long hours as a software engineer and keeping up his training and climbing schedule, he took a year and a half to travel and climb. During his climbing break he decided that he needed to have a different base and chose to try Las Vegas, which he says “has the best year-round climbing,” for two years.

Although there were adjustments involved in moving to a new city, Doyle loved the climbing, the trail running, the low cost of living and most of all, the great, welcoming climbing community in Las Vegas.

He works off-site now for a Seattle software company, and although some might think that he works part-time, given how much climbing he does, his job is a serious commitment. “It’s pretty intense and very complicated development,” he said. “Up to 80 to 100 hours a week, and never less than 50 to 60.”

Incredibly, Doyle has time for other interests. He spends time surfing every year and getting after trail runs upward of 25 km with thousands of metres of elevation. “I’ve been running my whole life,” he said, “It’s an effective workout as a basis for cardio, but it takes longer.”

Doyle’s used his cardio to perform feats few of the strongest crag rats would consider, including a 12-hour car-to-car ascent of Mount Assiniboine in the Rockies with Brandon Pullan. He’s also ticked the Canadian Rockies Alpine Rock Trilogy that comprises the multi-pitch routes War Hammer 5.14a, The Shining Uncut 5.14a and Blue Jeans Direct 5.14a.

Biking is one outdoor sport Doyle doesn’t do. After a 15-year break from the bike, he got back on a mountain bike and broke his collarbone and hasn’t ridden since.

Doyle admires many climbers, including Adam Ondra, Paige Claasen (who sent Dreamcatcher 5.14d last September) and Margo Hayes (the first woman to climb 5.15), but he especially looks up to strong climbers with a broad range of skills and an interest in the community. “Jonathon Siegrist works so hard on his own climbing,” said Doyle. “He’s driven, passionate, and does a lot of route development. Most pro climbers don’t, and of course it’s partly self-interest, since he gets to do the routes, but after that, anyone can do them.”

Doyle began new routing in Kelowna not long after he started climbing and never stopped. Las Vegas is a great place for any hard-working new router, and naturally, Doyle has some project crags. Through decades of development, Doyle has learned a lot not just about bolting and choosing lines, but about limiting the footprint of climbers on the outdoors. “When developing,” he wrote, “it’s best to be high impact up front and finish trail work, making obvious spots for people to belay and put their pack down. It eliminates social trails and makes the area easier to maintain.”

With his base fitness and experience, Doyle finds that he doesn’t need to climb more than three or four times a week to maintain his fitness. An injury in 2021 kept him off the rock for months and he’s careful not to repeat it by over-training. “Right now, I’m stoked,” he said, “I’m 44, and I don’t know how many years I can push it at the top level. I’ll see what I can do this winter for strength and fitness to do my project near Vegas, but what keeps me in climbing is the community. My social outlet is climbing. No matter what I do, even if I’m surfing, I’m still a climber. When I’m not motivated, I don’t think I need a rest day, I gotta go climbing.”

Becca Frangos, Knut Rokne, Mike Doyle and Kelly Drager in Canmore. Photo by Brandon Pullan

This story originally appeared in the February & March 2022 issue of Gripped: The Climbing Magazine

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