The Esquilax, Part 1

Yesterday I went snowshoeing to Bald Peak.  Aside from enjoying the fresh air and the activity itself, I wanted to see how much snow had accumulated on the few boulders near the summit.  My hope was “very little” so that we could head back on some warm day soon and climb.

The boulder whose name I can’t remember could be topped out, but there’s a fair bit piled up at the base.  The Esquilax had some snow in the off-width, but the crack itself was dry (despite melting temps and full sun).  The other problems on it were not climbable as there was at least 10cm of snow right to the lip.  With this week’s forecast, the chances of early March bouldering are favourable.

One of the Lodge/Smith problems, on the back side of the Esquilax.

For those who are interested, here’s a bit of a history lesson on the area:  The southern tip the Mount Douglas summit plateau is exposed granite, which rolls off southward to form 10 to 20 meters of near vertical cliff.  Climbers, who have been coming there for many decades, appropriately dubbed the area Bald Peak.  Some Nerepis Valley residents, refer to it as Devil’s Rock.

Most of the visitors are hikers.  The face probably sees more ascents on one Saturday in September (a UNB Rock & Ice event) than the other 364 days combined.  Over the years many people have explored nearby and scrambled up some short cliffs or one-move boulders, but there’s not much there.  I know of only twice when people ventured to the top, specifically with the intention to boulder (and find more).

The first party was made up of Jon Lodge and Derrick Smith, who walked much of the South and West slopes of Mount Douglas.  In the process they established a couple of boulder problems just below Bald Peak, dozens at the Ski Hill (adjacent to the cliff known as Mount Doug), and came across the cliff that became Sunnyside.  The specifics of their ascents have mostly been forgotten.  Hopefully one of them will read this and pass along some details.

A few years later, Jeff Hum and I tried to follow their steps.  It was a sweltering and humid day.  Hum was hung over.  We had to stop for a rest and to re-hydrate before reaching the summit.  I had some lunch.  He fell asleep.  I wandered off and discovered a few things.  1) We were one turn, and less than 100 paces away from the summit.  2) Derrick had left his toque beside a boulder and it was only partially decayed. 3) Esquilax exist!

After finding the hat, I went to the base of the steep overhang (that matched their description and whose sharp crystals still had some chalk on them), squeezed onto the exposed slab and hopped down the back side.  There, I came face to face with dark eyes, massive buck teeth, long whiskers, and a pair of 25 cm ears on a head the size of a volleyball.  We stared at each other in disbelief for a few seconds, then it slowly turned it’s grey body away and hopped a couple times.  It’s  white rump was at least 30cm wide.  Just before takeoff, with thick legs extended, it’s little tail was almost half a metre from the ground.  It stopped, looked back at me long enough for me to confirm it had the head of a rabbit and not a lynx, then turned again and in three slow graceful bounds disappeared into the woods.

Reeling from this experience, I looked up at the boulder.  Nearly a 2 metre roof split by a crack.  It’s spectacular! How could they have missed this?

I went to wake Hum.  On our way to the boulder we got turned around in the thicket and emerged at another boulder that looked worthwhile.  We immediately went to work on it.  Once we got some shrubs and branches cleared out, we realized we were just a few metres from the Lodge/Smith boulder problems.  No wonder they missed the roof crack!

J Hum back in the early 2000's on the boulder we didn't name.

After a blown out shoe and a few FA’s, the heat had taken it’s toll on us and we packed up to leave.  Passing the roof crack, we stopped in awe.  I couldn’t resist. I had to do this thing.  Easy face moves lead to the crack.  I started at fingers, then a hand jam, a fist for the next move.  I remember cutting my feet loose and swinging from an arm bar to do a heel-toe near the lip, then an off-with top-out.  I dubbed it The Esquilax and I remember it as being the nicest boulder problem I’ve ever done.  The rock, the moves, the setting, the exposure, everything.

The roof is not quite 3m off the ground, and just left of the frame, the flat landing drops of pretty far, making for some exhilarating exposure!

Isn't it gorgeous? Hopefully a real photographer will come for the next ascent and get some better shots.

I couldn't back up any further, but enough to show the snow in the off-width.

I plan to climb it again this spring.  It will be interesting to see if it holds up to the high status my memory has instilled upon it.  I’ve climbed hundreds of problems in the years since the first (and only) ascent, so for the past while I feared it may not.  Revisiting it yesterday though, it looks exactly as I remembered.  Stay tuned...