The Intrigue of Yam
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Yamnuska exposure
For many locals of the Bow Valley, “Yamaneering”, is a loose term used to define a climbing day on Mt. Yamnuska, in which a party attempts a route, that although graded well within their abilities, and was probably put up 20 years ago in hobnail boots…will still make them feel like they are moving on uncharted, untouched and unclimbable territory.
Last summer my good friend and guiding cohort, Lilla Molnar and I booked a day together on Yamnuska, home to hundreds of incredible lines! Some are easy and well protected, others are very challenging and heady, limestone multipitch climbs. Either way, Yam offers a memorable day for climbers of all abilities. Both Lilla and I, as locals and as climbing guides for the area had climbed numerous routes on Yam before and ‘thought’ we knew what we were getting ourselves into as we set off on the 1 hour, uphill, hike to the base of Greyscale; a relatively new line by Andy Genereux. I love to hate the hike up to Yam! It makes for a great warm up to the day but also reminds you how incredibly unfit you are! Running into Laurie Skreslet (first Canadian to climb Everest) along the trail reminded us of the history and intrigue Yam offers. It is a test piece of the Canadian Rockies and a place to return to time and time again; even to repeat routes.
Climbing Greyscale that day was incredible….we had rain, we had sun, we had wind, we had thunderheads – a typical June day in the Rockies. As we ascended the first 5 pitches we arrived at the crux of the route. As I somewhat arrogantly scampered through the easy terrain on the initial start of the 11d pitch, Andy himself rapped a nearby route. “Thanks for the great route!” I yelled over, confidently; as Andy smiled and put me back into my well-deserved place saying only “that the fun was still to come”.
Lilla leading out on Pitch 2
Sure enough, as he gazed from his lower belay station, I huffed and puffed and pumped my arms to oblivion through the overhanging moves near the end of the pitch. Scared well to the point of trying to wring out water from this ancient ocean bed that I was clinging to, I slapped for what I hoped would be the mother of all jugs only to find a grizzly limestone sloper going for the final exit moves. There was a moment of pause in my brain, and in my body, and finally acceptance to the inevitable as I felt myself no longer in control of my situation or my destiny.
Taking the plunge a couple hundred feet off the deck into space, I realized how seldom I fall on Yam…for good reason…as most falls here could be your last nightmare. Thanks to Andy’s generous bolting however I merely fell into space with forearms the size of Popeye’s and a good case of adrenaline. My trusty belayer caught my petrified and wailing body easily. I continued to the end of the pitch, bummed to have blown the “onsight” but strangely proud of myself for having tried hard enough to take the whipper. Lilla followed and then persevered on the final 20 meter lead to the top. Of course, this non-crux pitch also provided much entertainment as every pitch on Yam tends to do. Thoughtful climbing on razor sharp holds, sketchy foot smears and ample space between bolts to give you time to think about how much skin will be lost if one of those smears decides to grease off. Committing moves that, once made, can not be undone and can only be followed by more hopeful upward momentum. When we reached the summit we were each adequately shaken, pumped, bloody and exhilarated. This was a perfect day on Yam.
Projecting!
Only a few days later, I returned to Yamnuska with Shelley Nairn, mother and climber/friend extraordinaire. We thought we would do a fun day and chose a route that we didn’t think would “tax” us too much. It also was positioned conveniently near a route that we were keen to try and “project” when we were stronger and allowed us some scouting opportunities. After a couple pitches of run out climbing, unexpected holds breaking, seemingly directionless route finding on rock that was described appropriately in the topo as “kitty litter crumble”, we made use of our tagline and, tails between our legs, rapped the pitches we so shakily and terrifyingly led. Maybe this day was not a perfect one on Yam. It was however a more typical one, as one never really knows the outcome of their well planned Yamaneering day, and THAT is what makes it such an adventure.
Back safely on terra firma I reflected on what keeps us coming back to this mass of eroding limestone. When gearing up for a Yamnuska day, it is appropriate to come prepared for anything; good rock, bad rock, good weather, bad weather, run out, well protected, fun, or scary. Any way you look at it though, so long as you come with a good buddy, it is always an adventure and one that keeps you coming back for more!
