CLIMATE

Tony Mclane on Daily Universe. KIERAN BROWNIE

Finding Common Ground

Is climate breakdown causing increased rockfall on the Stawamus Chief?

Nestled in the UNESCO biosphere region of Howe Sound, the iconic granite monolith, Siám’ Smánit, towers 700 metres above the water and surrounding town of Squamish. Also known as the Stawamus Chief, the landmark holds special significance for the local Skwxwú7mesh nation, whose traditions say it was once a longhouse that was transformed to stone by Xáays, the spirit-beings known as the Transformer Brothers in this area.

Since the 1950s, local and visiting rock climbers have come to value Siám’ Smánit for its seemingly endless, high-quality climbing potential and ease of access. For climbers, the mountain is Canada’s answer to California’s famous Yosemite National Park. However, throughout 2021, an unprecedented number of rockfalls tumbled from the face of Siám’ Smánit, rattling the nerves of the Squamish community and closing a number of popular climbing routes.

The year was also punctuated by severe weather events and periods of extreme temperatures. July saw Canada’s hottest recorded daytime temperature in Lytton BC, followed by severe rainfall, flooding and landslides across the southern province in October, and extended cold snaps this past winter. Question is, are these extremes linked to the rockfalls on the Chief?

Geologically formed by volcanic activity and glacial erosion, Siám’ Smánit is constantly battered by wind, rain, snow and weather funnelling up the Sound. According to Wesley Ashwood—a geotechnical engineer who often works on the Chief—rockfall is common under such conditions. However, the rate of significant change is traditionally so slow that we wouldn’t notice it. But as climate change appears to be fast-forwarding through extreme weather events and rapid temperature variability, it’s not a giant leap to assume these environmental factors are also impacting rock features more quickly than previously seen.

Researchers in Yosemite (which is similar in setting and formation to Siám’ Smánit) studying thermal changes in the rock have confirmed that cracks expand and propagate into more significant fractures during heatwaves. Engineering geologist Sergio Sepúlveda says

processes like this are what make the Chief highly susceptible to rockfall, with the acceleration of the natural process of expansion and contraction causing cracks to widen and flakes to come loose. “The trigger factors that lead to rockfalls are usually earthquakes,” he explains, “but climate factors like intense rainfall, freeze-thaw during cold snaps, and thermal effects during warmer months also have a big impact.”

If climate breakdown is indeed playing a role, what can the climbing community—who already mostly subscribe to a “leave no trace” ethos of environmental stewardship—do in the face of increased rockfall danger to help preserve the places we respect and recreate on?

Squamish Access Society board member (and frequent Mountain Life contributor) Kieran Brownie says the answer lies not only on a personal level—voting with our politics and purchases—but also in the collaboration among climbers, the Skwxwú7mesh nation, and the community at large to foster a strength-in-numbers approach for more effective management and climate justice.

As Kieran says, a community is founded on common ground. So, what if Siám’ Smánit can provide the literal and figurative common ground for us to rally behind? If the root cause of the rockfalls is related to the global climate crisis, then the stakes for the Squamish community couldn’t be higher. It’s time we cultivate meaningful action—together. – Daisy Maddinson

"Climate factors like intense rainfall, freeze-thaw during cold snaps, and thermal effects during warmer months also have a big impact.”

Colin Moorehead and Mathew Waring on a re-cleaned Ron Zalko Workout, Grade 12a. North Walls, Siám’ Smánit with debris from a recent rockslide in the distance below. CHRIS CHRISTIE

Know Before You Go

Six paddleboarders re-examine a botched adventure in hopes you don’t make the same mistakes they did.

There’s no doubt everyone had good intentions, but our first problem was maybe a bit too much enthusiasm. This is back in 2021, late spring. The ski hill was closin early for the second season in a row, and the COVID pandemic continued to grind on—we were all a bit worn down.

Jobs postponed, staff shortages, business closures, homeschooling…we were doing a lot better than some, but each of us felt the brewing urge to get off grid, find ourselves some pristine empty natural spaces, and unplug to recharge.

The idea to paddleboard and surf the west Coast of Vancouver Island had always been a dream, and with a lull in our work schedules the timing seemed right. We bought gas and groceries in our own community, loaded enough gear to survive for a week, and took off— the best way to avoid a pandemic is to avoid people altogether, right? A 30-kilometre stretch of crashing waves on the western edge of the continent with the towering rainforests as a backdrop seemed as good a place as any.

The plan was to launch our paddleboards into the Klanawa River, start the trip with some whitewater paddling, then arrive at what— according to Google Earth—looked like a nice beach break with perfect West coast waves. After two glorious days of no human contact, (save the occasional boat motoring by offshore) we turned to the south and set off down the coastline.

Enjoying a sturdy ten to 12-kilometre paddle day, we made shore near the mouth of the Cheewhat River. The map we had purchased depicted a triangular section called “Cheewhat 4A”—First Nations land—so we set up our tents to the north of that region and well below the massive logs and debris marking the storm line/high tide line.

We had no intentions to camp in the Pacific Rim National Park so we made sure not to venture off the sand, believing that the park boundary ended at the tide line. Turns out that is not the case—as we would soon discover.

The way the tides and swell worked out, our ideal safe departure time from Cheewhat River came at 4:00 am, so we packed up in the dark and started paddling. Nearing Carmanah Walbran Provincial Park in the late morning, we were met by two Parks Canada boats and informed that we had camped illegally within national park reserve boundaries at Cheewhat River, and further entered into a restricted area without a permit.

Everyone needs to have a permit to access any portion of the West Coast Trail for camping purposes. At this point we were shuttled to Port Renfrew where we were debriefed by Parks officials. Our boards were confiscated, and we were released to return home and wait for a letter with our court dates.

There’s no denying we made mistakes, and one purpose of this article is to help ensure others don’t do the same. The other purpose—the main one—is to offer our sincere and utmost apologies to the Huu-ay-aht and Ditidaht First Nations. While we did not mean to camp specifically in their marked-off land, we did, and we accessed their unceded territory without permission, and did so during pandemic times, which carry extra health risks for the nation members. As adventurers, we always strive to respect and learn from the Indigenous peoples, lands, and histories of regions we travel though. In this instance we failed, and we are sorry.

We also want to apologize to Parks Canada and their staff for the extra time and effort (and human contact) they put in while dealing with this matter. There is a valuable lesson here for all outdoor enthusiasts to double and triple check where you will be going and what is and isn’t allowed. Maps can be fallible, information from the internet even more so, and when it comes to the coastline of the Pacific Rim National Park Reserve. The National Park Reserve boundary reaches out to the 20-metre isobath of the Pacific Ocean as shown on the Canadian Hydrographic Service (C.H.S.) chart.

We are seasoned adventurers who have paddled, hiked, skied, and climbed all over the world, but that doesn’t mean we are immune from errors, bad decisions. The only comforts we can take from this experience is that no one was harmed due to our mistakes, and that we can share these words so others can learn from us and adventure more respectfully and responsibly in their own journeys.

With respect,

Tim Emmett, Jake Humphrey, Jon Burak, Todd Lawson, Dennis Flett, Jim Martinello.