Climbing Main
Best of the Best
Beta
Squamish
Central BC
Skaha
Northwest BC
BC Alpine
Rockies
Trip Reports
Photo Gallery
Links
|
||||||||
July 16, 2000
"Rock!" Sarah and I both ducked into the wall as a softball sized rock ricocheted down the slab just to our right. As this was the third time the party a few pitches above us had knocked off a large rock and we were only just started on the second pitch, I started to wonder what I had gotten us into. I suppose I knew all along what I was getting into. I had first seen Yak Peak - a stunning bell shaped granite dome which rises for about 2000 feet above the Coquihalla highway - about 5 years ago, just after I started climbing. At that point I knew one day I would have to come back and climb it, but it took a few years before I finally got the chance. During that time I had talked to 4 parties who had been on the climb, 1 bailed due to weather, one due to routefinding, the third because of bad rock and poor gear, and the fourth had completed the climb but ran out of light and had to bivi on the summit. There are two main lines up the prominent south face of Yak. The original route, Yak Crack, ascends a prominent right trending system of cracks, chimneys and grooves of variable quality rock consistently in the 5.7-5.8 range. The second route, Reality Check, starts to the right of Yak Crack, and climbs slabs and corners for 8 long pitches up to 5.10+ of mostly good rock before intersecting with Yak Crack halfway, then trending left up cracks and corners to the final summits slabs. I had been advised before getting on the route that the rock on Yak Crack deteriorates from loose and scary to downright horrifying after the routes cross, so we decided do the initial pitches of that route and finish up Reality Check. We left Vancouver about 5:45, made a brief stop in Chilliwack for coffee and breakfast, and arrived at the pullout below the peak by 8:30. A quick gear sort, and we were started on the approach, across a small bog, then up through a steep forest and across a talus field to the slabs at the base of the cliff, about 45 minutes total. By this time there was already a party a few pitches ahead of us, I guess that's the downside to an aesthetic climb with an easy approach. We started scrambling up the first easy pitch only to have a shower of rocks knocked off by the party above, so we decided to rope up. The pitch went by quickly, up a wide corner followed by some easy slab climbing on solid rock, ending at the base of an enormous dihedral. I secured myself at the belay as another large rock came down, then started belaying Sarah.
In order to save time, we had decided that I would do most of the leading, at least to start, so I set out on the next pitch, a few face moves up the side of the dihedral and into a nice hand and fist crack on the other side. The crack continued up for about 130 metres, which we split into two long pitches with a bit of simul-climbing, finally ending at a good ledge. The position here was fantastic, as the wall rose steeply above, and the slabs dropped away to the green of the glacier carved valley below. As we climbed higher, the sharp, snow covered peaks of the interior range became visible over the rounded peaks lining the valley. Up until this point, the rock had been mostly solid, except for piles of loose rock on the ledges and in the back of the crack, and the routefinding straightforward. Above the ledge however the climb began to wander, generally following a vague right trending weakness of cracks, grooves and huge flakes separated from the main wall by layers of decomposing granite resembling well packed gravel. The first two pitches of this were fairly easy, with decent if sporadic protection, and thankfully the worst sections of the rock seemed to show up at the easier moves. The pitch above this offered some enjoyable climbing traversing along the base of a huge flake before pulling over a small roof and into a wide hand crack. Although the faces offered many small edges for holds, their reliability was quite suspect, and it was much more secure to just jam the slowly deteriorating crack, which finally petered out into unstable flakes ending at a belay at a stunted cedar shrub.
The next pitch was described in the guide as a 'runout 5.8 groove'. Above the belay were two overlaps which were not too difficult, and above them a large bulge. Peering over the bulge it looked to be a groove above, but was hard to tell if this was the correct way. There were a few flakes on the bulge for holds, but none seemed particularly trustworthy. I hit one a couple times to test it, it sounded a bit hollow, but no more so than the holds I had been using up to this point. I stepped up on it, and just as I began to weight it the flake ripped off from the wall. "Rock" I yelled as it shattered on the slab below and fell harmlessly past my belayer. Somewhat unnerved, I stepped back down to collect myself, then set back to surmounting the bulge. It wasn't a particularly difficult move, but after breaking one hold I was very cautious as I delicately pulled on the other hollow flakes into the loose groove above. The climbing above was easier, though still unnerving with untrustworthy crystally holds, and only a small wire and hopeless tcu in a flaring pod for pro for the rest of the pitch. I was relieved when I finally pulled on top of a large pillar separated from the main wall by a layer of gravel and secured myself to the belay. Although the technical difficulty had been minor, the pitch was one of the most mentally taxing leads I have done, and I felt completely exhausted at its top. I belayed Sarah up, then took a short break to eat a bit and enjoy the magnificent view before continuing on. Above this point we opted to finish up Reality Check, in hopes of better rock, which would be much appreciated after the last pitch. From the belay I traversed across some crumbly rock to the bast of an enormous, completely hollow flake. The entire pitch involved traversing the flake, shaped like a huge J which had fallen over on its left. It starts out with about 12 metres of underclinging left along the bottom of the flake which gradually gets thinner until finally it peters out to almost nothing. The pitch then delicately laybacks the flexing flake (no placing pro behind this one!), before mantelling onto the top of it and traversing back for 6 or 8 metres. The flake then juts upwards again, more laybacking, until it turns into a huge undercling traverse left before reaching the belay in a cave formed between the huge flake and the wall. A couple tricky moves pulling out of the cave and delicately up the slab above led to a large ledge and an easy traverse to the final corner system of the climb. It was not so easy to protect the loose ledge however, which was fine for the lead, but left Sarah facing a long pendulum as she worked her way up the slab. By this time I was feeling much better than two pitches earlier, spurred on by better rock and a nearing summit. The pitch above climbed straightforwardly up a slim arcing corner, finishing with some face moves to a belay on a sloping ledge. Form here the routefinding seemed inobvious up the thin slab, littered with tiny flakes, but soon we noticed a bolt and I headed towards it. The climbing was quite enjoyable, and reminded me distinctly of Howser Buttress at Joshua Tree, crimping on thin flakes before pulling through the crux overlaps then up a shallow groove to the belay. Sarah quickly followed, and we started up the final technical pitch on the climb. 25 metres up an enjoyable though occasionally dirty corner led to the final slab. Although listed as the 5.10a crux in the topo, the slab seemed quite moderate, though the bolt at the crux move may have played a role in my state of mind. Soon I was clipped into the final anchor, just below the summit, belaying Sarah up. A few minutes later we were taking our summit shots, finishing off our food, and then it was time to head down.
We opted to rappel the route, having heard the descent down the backside was often wet and would take at least a couple of hours. Reality Check offered a fairly direct line of rappel anchors, although we quickly exhausted our supply of spare webbing backing up the weathered supertape which constituted many of them. As we lost elevation, the sun gradually set, and we were treated to a fantastic view of the snow tipped peaks basking in the fading evening light. By the time we were two thirds of the way down the 12 double rope rappels the last light of day was fading, replaced by the full moon rising in the east. We finished the rappel by moonlight, and I stretched out for a nap as Sarah finished the final rappel, pulling the ropes down top of me to make sure I didn't fall asleep. Some minor routefinding issues through the slabs and gullies at the base of the cliff, followed by a few wrong turns in the talus below, and we eventually found the trail through the steep forest back to the road. With the moon hidden by the trees, we relied on our headlamps to guide us, and slowly made our way down. In our tired state, it took us almost twice as long to descend as it had to approach. Soon enough however we were walking back along the shoulder of the road. As we looked back up at Yak, it was almost phospherescent in the pale blue glow of the full moon. Eventually we were guzzling the water left in the car, and finally driving home, racing exhaustion to a soft bed, and barely winning the race.
|
||||||||
|
|
