One of my favorite writer/climbers uses this term to describe “the state of being in between.” For me, liminal describes the delicate line that exists between having fun and pushing myself through fear, or pain, or stress to have deeply transformative experiences. Liminal is the feeling of walking the perfect, terrifying line between hanging on and falling off- and it’s really surprisingly fun.

I wasn’t feeling like climbing that hard in Squamish. I just couldn’t seem to find the extra mental fortitude to get on climbs with harder numbers on them. This blog started with a mantra “Let go of the baggage, and get the feeling to stick,” but I’ve been carrying some baggage for most of this summer. Before we left Washington, Dustin ran me into the ground before dinner one night, but we couldn’t leave it behind. Long days of driving, and time with some of the most amazing people in my life hasn’t been able to lift it. I won’t make excuses, I need to make some corrections, but pretending it isn’t there doesn’t serve anything. Climbing though has it’s own way of stripping it all away like nothing else can. I knew I wouldn’t feel right if I left Squamish without walking the liminal line.

First glance at the Buttress.

I spent 10 days in Squamish in 2010 and loved every minute of it, but at the end of a long day that June, I stood at the base of the crux pitch of “Squamish Buttress” (5.10c, 5 pitches) and handed over the lead to my friend Hans- only because I was scared to walk the line. This year, Ky drove up from Bellingham after work on Friday just as Dustin and Gaio had to head south again. We grabbed a few warm up pitches, and planned an epic Saturday.

Mr. Nayfield leads us up the start.

The Buttress is one of the last pitches on the way to the summit, so getting there means picking one of several other excellent routes to combine into a full day of climbing. One of the most vertical and direct preliminary routes is “Rock On” (5.10a, 5 pitches). All of the pitches are dead vertical, and the 50m pitch 4 crux features an exciting overhang on amazing jams. Frequently included as a top 100 route in Squamish, we had a very good time.

Working the pitch 4 crux.

Rad overhanging corners on the lower route.

There is a magical thing in climbing, when you and your partner simply “click”. It’s kinda always felt that way with Ky, and the pitches flowed by, each more fun than the next. From the top of Rock On, we hiked through the trees and found the alternate 5.9 slab+arete start to the Buttress route. Ky led brilliantly while my butterflies started to flutter as we worked our way up to the crux.

Me, getting into the business (photo: Ky Nayfield).

We took a minute at the base. No one else was in line at the crux, and I needed to clear my head before I got down to business. The climbing is thin, cerebral, and sustained- you can’t just muscle it. I tightened my shoes and headed up. It’s hard from the get go, and just gets harder. Once I committed to the second half of the route, I was in it to win. I took my time thinking through each move and each piece of protection. When you are right on the line between falling off and flowing onwards, there is nothing else to think about. It is one of the most perfect feelings in life.

Blue shirts, red helmets, and tan pants, I swear we didn’t plan it that way.

I did send the route cleanly, and was more than happy to put the old fears away. Ky and I made it back to Bellingham in ample time for dinner and rest before my long drive to Montana the next day. No doubt one of my best days climbing with one of my favorite partners on a perfect link-up of terrain. The clarity and stoke stuck in my system for days. It only happens when you are willing to step in the arena and try- when you walk the liminal line. Pick something hard and chase it- it’s worth it.

Until next time.

“Look mom…!”

“This place is climbing Disneyland.” In his first few minutes, Dustin had perfectly identified a very important fact. I can think of no other place with amazing granite trad multipitch lines, easy cragging, and outstanding bouldering just 10 minutes walk from your tent. Your tent, which is pitched under a perfect canopy of large conifers, perched on a spectacular bluff overlooking Howe Sound. You eat dinner with an international cast of generally friendly, well-behaved climbers of every skill level, as well as a few kayakers, cycle tourists, and wing-suit flyers to boot. The stoke is typically through the roof, and if by chance someone happens to be on your route when you get to the base of it in the morning, they are more than likely psyched to either let you pass, or direct you to a similar or better route in the immediate vicinity. I do not spend enough time here.

The weather for the first few days of my trip had been less than ideal in Squamish, hence climbing in Mazama, and a quick stop to do some work on the Moon family cabin.

On my vacation from construction work… (photo by Dustin)

I had always talked up trad climbing, and the wonders of granite cracks, but my many past adventures hadn’t taken that particular form. Being willing, available, and proximate, crack climbing 101 was suddenly inevitable. His lovely lady Gaio, had never been climbing outside and was even still willing after watching the entire “Wide Boys Crack School“, so north we went on a clearing Wednesday morning.

Garibaldy and the Chief welcome us.

We started on some easy cracks at the ever beautiful Burgers and Fries area in the Smoke Bluffs. It took Dustin about 3 hours to get itch to lead (the hard scary part of climbing). He is one of the most natural athletes I’ve ever met, so I gave the rack and a few tips, and he clipped the anchors in short order. We were off to the races.

“What is this ‘jamming’ thing you speak of…?”

Clipping the chains on his first lead (photo by Gaio)

We spent day 2 cragging away from the crowds on the incredible Malamute. 10 minutes walk from camp, the 400′ cliff boasts a wide variety of amazing cracks- with no road noise, few other people, and spectacular views of the sea. Ideal.

“High Mountain Woody” (5.9 45m) – I could see why you might get one…

‘Paul’s Crack’ on the Malamute. Unbelievable.

Getting the feel for leading past the funny things that are not bolts.

Like kids in Disneyland…

Dustin and Gaio were headed home for more work on the roof on Friday night, and I knew they needed to experience a multipitch line before they left. We accounted for being a team of 3 and our relative skill levels, picking our way through the forest to “Cream of White Mice” (II, 5.9, 4 pitches). It was the perfect outing- some finger cracks, a dyke, a nice 5.8 slab traverse and a tricky ending, with 4 rappels back to camp for a perfect outing. Disneyland sure is fun.

4 pitches and still smiling!

I probably wouldn’t encourage most beginners to dive straight into a climbing trip to Squamish. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the last 10 years of climbing, and am thankful that very few of them have resulted in anything more than a couple hours of being cold and some lost gear. Dustin and Gaio were vocally grateful to have a dedicated guide to show them the literal ropes, and I realized that even as much as I enjoy climbing hard things and challenging myself, teaching climbing is one of the most fulfilling and rewarding things that I know how to do. It is of course far easier with fit, willing, and smart students. The experience of sharing this passion of mine with one of my closest friends is a reward that is exceedingly rare. I hadn’t planned on having that experience this trip, but it would have been far less rich without it.

View from dinner.

The gas station/tourist trap smelled like sugar and people wearing too many personal hygiene products. My head was pounding, but I was falling asleep at the wheel anyway. 45 minutes into a 9 hour drive, I was not feeling psyched on the trip.

Columbia River

I was stressed about work, frustrated with bad weather, and leaving town feeling underprepared. I was deeply afraid of not having a “good enough” time on my vacation. I woke up on Saturday morning at Dustin’s parents house in Stanwood, WA. Their spot on a bluff above Puget sound has been a regular refuge over the years.

Bob and Nancy, and Puget Sound. Doing together right for over 40 years.

Dustin was more than willing to be an impromptu climbing partner, but I spent the first day of my vacation resting. Sunday we headed for Washington Pass- fittingly, we got rained off after the first pitch on Concord Tower…

Strangely my first visit to this particular climbing icon…

For his many wonderful qualities, Dustin has reynouds syndrome, and enduring cold and wet is not a good vacation activity. To be fair, I usually like an equally willing partner to suffer with if I’m going alpine climbing. We headed down valley for warmer temps and bolted multi-pitch outside of Mazama. Dustin had never been on a multi-pitch climb, so I figured we would start “easy.”

Heavy weather

Sisyphus is a super fun, fully bolted 10 pitch climb with a 5.11a crux in the middle. The line isn’t particularly aesthetic, but the position is great, and the bolts are generous. If you don’t fire the grade, the first 5 pitches take you to a lovely ledge for lunch!

Getting a taste of the big air.

Stoke

Many rappels down- pitch by pitch beta to follow shortly. More about this fun little tool later.

Tech Notes: 
Huge props to North Cascades Mountain Guides for establishing the route and making a topo readily available for free. We climbed with a 70m rope. You can link pitches 1&2, 7&8, and 9&10 (recommended), and simul climb from the top of P3 to the base of P5 if you are strong at the grade. You can also link the rappel from the base of Pitch 4 to the intermediate tree rap in the middle of pitch 3. Otherwise, 11 rappels is a lot of rappels…