solo team

With the first leg of my Northern Ontario tour completed, I moved on to the cliffs along the Georgian Bay- eager to see what they had to offer. My friend Greg Williamson, whom I had met in Kentucky this past Spring, spoke highly of the area. After seeing an excerpt from the film "The Continuum Project," I was sold. I spent my first day with select members of the Toronto crew, and was given a proper tour of Lions Head (which was invaluable as the guidebook has been outdated for quite some time.)

Photo by Miguel Jette

Lions Head is, by far, the most unique climbing area I have visited in my climbing career. While the climbing itself is distinct from other limestone crags I've encountered, it's unique nature truly exists in its accessibility. Unlike most crags, many of the routes do not start at the base of the cliff. The quality of the limestone here tends to diminish in certain sectors, while in others the cliff vanishes entirely- leaving a significant amount of open air between the climbable surface and the ground. As a result, many of the climbs require a hanging belay. Early on I was told that most of the locals prefer to rope solo because it offers easy access in to and out of the cliff, unparalleled efficiency, and it saves everyone from the hassle of the dreaded hanging belay.

Unknown Climber, Maneline 5.10a

Many of the Toronto natives were only around for the long Canada Day weekend, and I was subsequently left to my own devices during the majority of my stay. Eager to get after it, I committed to the reality that if any climbing was going to get done it would have to be a solo mission.

Rope soloing is a double-edged sword. While it certainly is a great way to pack in volume during a session, and a great way to suss out potential projects, it makes it quite difficult to commit to particular moves on point. Generally I don't think about the consequences of failing to execute. That's why someone else is on the other end of the rope, right? Rope soloing essentially adds another variable to an already complex equation. Typically I focus on deciphering sequences, committing to a plan, detoxing, lowering my heart rate, and maintaining a cadence. Being in charge of my own safety is something I have never had to consider, so incorporating this variable into my climbing repertoire was incredibly challenging for me. But, as in most situations, we learn to adapt.

Zone of Extreme Beauty 5.12c/d
Photos by Miguel Jette

Earlier in the week I tried a route called Thor from the Floor (5.12d), an extension to Thor (5.12b). The extension adds two difficult boulder problems, and roughly doubles the length of the pitch. I assumed that because it took quite some time to unlock the sequences on my first attempt several days prior, it would be best to rope solo the route in order rehearse the moves. After quickly pushing through the bottom two cruxes I found myself at the more moderate section of the climb. Having a rough idea of what to do, I decided that it would be entirely possible to redpoint the route on rope solo. Unfortunately, after arriving at the fourth crux, I quickly realized that I had not taken up slack in quite some time. With the clock ticking and the holds shrinking, I knew stopping was not an option. Attempting to rectify my mistake midway through the crux would surely jeopardize my redpoint attempt. Rookie mistake!

The last crux involves paddling through several slopey holds and gastons in order to gain a right hand pinch/undercling. Once established on the undercling, I attempted to move my feet up on poor smears in order to stab for the last shallow two finger pocket. However, seeing the sizable amount of slack I had left for myself whipping in the wind did not inspire confidence. I would like to think that my level of commitment on point is one of the few things that I am good at as a climber, but in this scenario I was completely spooked and out of my element. I halfheartedly attempted the move, grabbed the break line, and took the plunge. Amateur hour!

Photo by Miguel Jette

Subsequent days proved to be a bit more productive. I was able to have two proper sport climbing sessions during which I was able to redpoint routes in every grade between 5.10a and 5.12d. Though I did try routes between 5.13a and 5.13d, I ultimately found that progressing quickly in such an environment would not have been possible for me. The climbing in Lions Head is incredibly specialized. As the climbs become more difficult, the holds begin to disappear, and a new climbing language must be applied. It would most likely take me an entire season to develop the technique necessary to climb at Lions Head. I suppose it was unreasonable to think that I could send at my limit in every destination without first taking the time to learn the local language. During my short visit, I was only able to catch a glimpse of the style that makes Lions Head both challenging and unique. Despite having my ego checked once again, I thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to explore a new destination, and to finally find some peace in solitude.

I would like to once again thank my friend Migüel Jetté for providing the photos that accompanied this and the previous post. A link to his blog can be found in the list of blogs I follow (located in the right hand margin of the page).