Okotoks: Erratic Pleasures Through Time (Part I)
Editor’s Note: 75¢ beers, screw drivers for nut tools and broken ankles - take a step back in time with this beautifully written piece from Glenn Reisenhofer. You might already know Glenn for his impressive ticklist of first ascents, or through his photography. In this two part series, he nostalgically takes us back to the early days of climbing at Big Rock, the developing ethic and style that ensued, and a mix of anecdotes on gear and friendship to make us all wish we were young and on the road again.
Stay tuned for Part II next week!
The Big Rock
In the distance against the heavily snow clad peaks lay a large pile of rocks. Some rocks were small with brown, swaying grasses, brushing their surfaces. Larger rocks were dispersed amongst their little brothers. They all stood out from afar revealing their shape and structure. Two of these rocks were very large, seemingly taller than the mountains behind them. Light green map-lichen covered these two rocks, partially shielding the brown and gray surface below. Roofs, ledges and dark wide cracks were visible. Linear lines that paralleled the ground angled towards the middle of these two largest rocks, showing the place where the rocks once joined.
The surrounding area was open, with unrestrictive views. Shallow, rolling hills dipped away at various angles, draining the landscape. A thin veneer of clouds gave off a translucent gray light. The stiff fall breeze pushed the tall brown grasses against the rocks, creating a constant, scratching sound. A raven floated on the wind, carving upwards and away towards the east. Richardson ground squirrels were in their homes, cozy and warm, asleep in a state of lengthy hibernation. Fall had arrived, moisture was in the air, snow would soon follow.
In the Blackfoot First Nation language the word Okotoks translates to Big Rock. This collection of large boulders is an important place of worship and the site is considered sacred. Pictographs are painted on the rock surface with a red paint composed of iron-rich hematite otherwise known as red ochre. These aboriginal art pieces have been known for decades. Okotoks is a place where vision quests have been fulfilled.
There is a legend where Napi, the supernatural trickster, gave his robe to the rock. When the temperature got cold Napi took the robe back. The rock got upset and chased Napi, who in turn summoned various animal friends to help him from being squished by the rock. Answering Napi’s call a flock of birds pecked at the rock. Their constant attack brought Big Rock to a standstill. The birds had broken the rock into two pieces. The trickster had once again successfully outwitted his prey.
Researchers have determined that this pile of boulders on the southwest prairies of Alberta originated near Jasper. During the last ice age the mountain glaciers in the Jasper area ripped a huge chunk of quartzite off Mount Edith Cavell and moved this mass eastwards. Reaching the prairies this rock met with a southbound moving glacier carrying the mass towards the present day US/Canada border, a total distance of 930 kilometres. Upon the glacier’s retreat various boulders were left behind. An L shaped pattern can be traced by plotting the present location of the boulders back towards Mount Edith Cavell. These rocks that have been carried away from their origins are called erratics. Okotoks is the largest glacial erratic in the world, about the size of a large two story house weighing seven million kilograms.
Early days at the largest glacial erratic
When visiting the rock we used to park on the side of the highway, pulling off into the ditch and minding the muffler wrecking rocks as we parked. A large swinging sign briefly described the Big Rock. A barbwire fence separated the muddy path which cut through a farmer’s field to the rock. Often there was a large pool of melted snow water early in the season. Twice a year the trail would be eradicated by the plow, resulting in a rut filled wobbly walk.
Our earliest mode of transportation to the rock was by bicycle. Neil Winder and I used our twelve speeds to battle the prairie wind during our 55 km ride from Calgary. Neil was my first climbing partner, he had recently arrived from Manchester. Together we got into climbing and when we were not in the mountains, we danced and watched bands at the National Hotel in Calgary. The server at the National would often carry an entire tray filled with glasses of beer, 75¢ each. We learnt to stay away from the bar on the other side of the National where several stabbings had occurred. Some of these colourful characters would join us to watch the bands. Rock climbing and rock music were our lives.
Being new to climbing we explored all the nooks and crannies that the rock had to offer and like endless numbers of young people before us we wiggled our way through the smooth cold dark inner quartzite walls. At that time we had no clear idea that the majority of the real climbing was on the outside of the rock, not these inner alleys.
We were not the only ones climbing at the rock. There was a stocky fellow with shiny red hair poking out from underneath a black beret. He had set up a belay on top of the west rock and offered us use of his rope. We replied that we had no harness, only rockshoes. This was no problem for the young fellow as he had brought a spare harness. Our first visit to Big Rock with rockshoes would soon involve the use of a rope. We eagerly tied in and climbed our first roped climb. This would not be our last.
The ride home was quick, too fast even for us young adrenalin seeking teenagers. The wind pushed us steadily along the wide highway shoulder. Peddling was easy in twelfth gear as we raced along the downhill sections. We were mindful of bumps, rocks and road rash causing ground squirrels that liked to play with fate at the edge of the road. Joy, partnered with a slight mixture of fear, accompanied us on our journey homewards. Neil and I were both ecstatic to have had the opportunity to climb.
Our knowledge of the local bouldering problems grew as we visited Big Rock. Our hunger for rock climbing drove us onwards. A few pieces of rock gear and webbing bought from Mountain Equipment Co-op created numerous top rope station possibilities for us. Two number 7 Wild Country rocks went a long way in helping us become more creative. We once had to interrupt our climbing and run back to the car to obtain a screwdriver, which helped with a stopper’s stubborn removal. Thus we learned about a new and usual tool for climbing. The price of a nut removal tool was too expensive for us, so the screwdriver hung on my harness for years. Awkward rope grabbing falls, which resulted in the skin being removed from your knuckles, became a thing of the past. We were exploring new terrain looking for new problems to try – problems we thought had not yet been ascended. We were youthful climbers creating our future. Naively, we didn’t know that that future had already been climbed by someone else.
More experience and a shift to highball bouldering
The years passed and our climbing experience grew. Single pitch crag climbs, multipitch routes along the Bow Valley, local bouldering and the University of Calgary’s climbing walls ate through my beloved EBs. My left shoe had a hole worn directly through to my big toe. We did not know that rockshoes could be resoled and the hole only became a problem when my socks started to wear.
Easier climbs at Big Rock started seeing less use of the rope and more bouldering. The rope was starting to remain coiled and left behind in our packs. Many problems demanded respect. You could only climb them when the time was right, not at any other instant. You had to have enough power to get to the top, and on occasion, be able to dig deep into your stamina reserve. A key element was a willingness to confidently push yourself further yet remain in tight control of your situation. A positive, non-self doubting attitude was equally important. Of course there were problems where we would always use the rope. The cost of making a mistake was simply too high.
Take for example a problem on the north side of the east rock. Bruce Keller, a local legend, has become infinitely associated with this problem. His sausage-like-fingers were the first to climb 11d in Alberta and they helped co-author the infamous runout and greatly respected route The Maker in CMC Valley. On this problem at Big Rock he twice broke the same ankle on the same greasy foothold high up on the problem while executing a committing high step. He now has a titanium rod inserted in his leg. A committing mantle with a nasty fall to reward a slip is something to consider when attempting these problems sans rope.
In time we learnt about the four most difficult problems at Big Rock thanks to Jason Holt, aka Boy Aggro. He gave us a tour and taught us where these elite boulder problems were located, including his The Resurrection, V8. He was the first Canadian to send 5.13 and his ascent of The Resurrection was light years ahead of its time. Jason was a young protégée of Bill Stark, a former Mountain Equipment Co-op employee with a hardcore reputation which includes the first free ascent of CMC Wall on Yamnuska. Two of the problems Jason pointed out we had already tried, we would have to patiently wait for the other two. Regardless of how they were originally ascended, we would use the rope. You could always find natural anchors which in turn increased rockcraft knowledge.
The new rubbered weapon
From the ashes of the old EB rockshoes arose the new order. Spanish rubber had arrived at the Calgary Mountain Equipment Co-op in the form of the Boreal Firè. Pronounced Fee-ray, these rockshoes had a thick gray suede upper with red stitching which covered your ankle bone. As with most rockshoes of the day, the uppers covered your ankle bone for a good reason. Cracks destroyed ankle bones and were excellent for raking skin off as well, especially granite cracks. People in desperation would often stick any part of their foot in a crack and try different positions to facilitate a positive foot placement. Dedicated crack climbers sewed additional material onto the outside of their skinny-walled rockshoes.
You could perform a neat trick only when your Firè rockshoes were brand new and never worn on rock. If you rubbed the soles together the heat generated would stick the shoes together momentarily. You could visually see tiny bits of rolled up rubber on the surface after the shoes separated. The difference was obvious: EB rockshoes were simply not as sticky, and were also much stiffer, I wouldn’t have expected such a difference in the quality and softness of the rubber.
To be continued…
Want to be notified for Part Two’s release? Interested in more stories like this? Sign up for our weekly Aspects newsletter for all the latest posts
Have an interesting story you’d like to share? Send it over to marketing@alpineclubofcanada.ca and we’ll take a look at it!