In the Spring of 2010 my wife and I laid eyes upon Squamish for the first time. As we came around a bend on Highway 99, just north of Murrin Park, the snow-capped summit of Mount Garibaldi came into view followed by the sheer walls of the Stawamus Chief. In awe we asked our cab driver, “Where’s this?” He smiled and replied, “Why, this is where I’m taking you.”
Ending up in Squamish had been a bit of a fluke for us. We’d sold off all of our possessions, save for a few suitcases, and decided to move from Ireland to Canada on a whim. My wife, Spring, originally from Alberta, had always wanted to live near the B.C. coast. Being an Irish native, I felt the need also to be near water. We looked at a map, spotted Squamish and decided to throw caution to the wind and just go for it.
Those first few months in this town had a profound effect on us. Knowing nobody here and being surrounded by the wild mountains sparked anew that curiosity we’d left behind a long time ago as we grew up.
Mountains previously had merely been scenery for the backgrounds of our photos, but now we felt compelled by curiosity to see what was hidden up on top of those summits and what we could look down upon once we got up there.
Unfortunately, my body was heavy when I left Ireland – pushing 300lbs – mostly due to a decade or more of being sedentary in front of various types of electronic screens for work and leisure. Now, in Squamish, I wanted to take this ill-prepared body to the tops of mountains. Thankfully though, body fat does not like being in the mountains and as I continued to climb upwards, I brought less and less of it with me.
One of the first mountains that really grabbed our attention was the now infamous Sky Pilot. I stumbled upon it while flicking through the guide Scrambles in Southwest B.C. The name alone captured my imagination, and reading reports online about the difficulties of climbing to its summit only served to fuel my desire to go there.
As a complete novice I knew I needed to get experience before visiting this mountain. The risk on Sky Pilot, to a seasoned mountaineer, is relatively low, but the consequences of a mistake are high. On a lot of the route to the summit a slip or misstep is simply not an option.
My wife and I spent a good year climbing easier mountains in the vicinity. We learned to backpack for the first time, to climb rock, to judge terrain and route-find. It was an amazing time because everything was new for us. Just fuelling our curiosity took us to a lot of places. But Sky Pilot was always on our mind and we’d scan for its shape on the horizon as we visited other mountains.
Eventually, we attempted Sky Pilot. This was before the new Sea to Sky Gondola had been built, so the road in was rough, with the trail overgrown and difficult to follow in places. We used the skills we had been honing over the previous year to route-find, to make our way up the Stadium Glacier below the mountain and finally to navigate and surmount the difficulties on the route to the summit.
On the summit we felt elated to know we were capable of reaching this place, but also humbled by how the mountains around Squamish had changed us. To stand in this expanse of open air on top of rock and ice, both of our bodies and minds had needed to change. I had lost over 100lbs in the process and we both had to confront many of our fears and break through them.
Today we always approach new mountains as students with a willingness to learn, driven by curiosity. When curious, there is no such thing as failure. If we set out to reach a summit and don’t because it is too difficult, we haven’t failed, we’ve merely been successful in finding our limit. Turning around is always an option if we aren’t ready. This approach has allowed us to explore and do more than we’d have ever imagined four years ago.
Recently, we visited the Sky Pilot area again, but this time we got to use the new gondola. As others headed out to visit Sky Pilot for their own attempt on that mountain, we headed towards the less-visited Copilot Mountain. The route up this thumb of friable rock is loose and steep and anyone attempting it should use caution. Back when we ascended Sky Pilot we likely wouldn’t have been ready for this mountain, but now in 2014 – with many more mountains ascended under our belts – we are. We gained the summit and stared out at the place we call home, Squamish.
Moving to this town has given us a lot, but more importantly for us, it has also taken a lot. We’ve lost fat off our bodies, doubts about our abilities, and fears of the unknown, and we’ve gladly let all of this go.
Squamish is special and you can see it everywhere, in the smiles of those looking out at sunsets from Nexen beach, the laughter of children hanging on ropes in the Smoke Bluffs, to the passing nods with runners and bikers on the trails or the shared stories between strangers on summits about hidden lakes and dark rocky towers that need to be explored. Adventure is written into the very fabric of this place and if you can come here with a curious heart it will weave itself deep into your very being. Squamish is a part of us now, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.
Spring stands at the top of the Sea to Sky Gondola looking out on our objective, the Copilot.
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