IMAX V15 - First Ascent

A short write up about a fantastic pebble!

I think it was around 2023 when Peter mentioned the project to me. By then I had started ticking off the hard boulders and started to eye up some undone lines. I cleaned some absolute garbage that I never went back to climb, during those years I wanted to climb hard and quality came second. But when Peter described “One of the last best undone lines under the chief” to me I was keen to have a look. I was given vague directions, something I like to think he did on purpose to send me on a bit of an adventure and wander through the woods (instead of staring at my phone looking for a pin). I ended up walking circles around the boulder until I finally noticed what Peter described hiding in the tree line. A clean panel as wide as an IMAX screen layed on the hillside surrounded by the trees. I’d seen a lot of boulders like this already today, rough and tough granite that forms large features if you’re lucky, and blank sections of rock if you were unlucky. Framed between 2 smaller trees were both in one line, a striking rail leading to nothing but a crimp rail that seemed too far away.

Framed between the trees lay one of the area's most challenging problems, still awaiting its first ascent.

I recleaned the problem, found some crystals for feet and theorized this huge jump move to gain the upper rail. A move that seemed too hard for me then, but maybe one day I’d be ready for it. I hiked down the hill and would only return to the IMAX project in my head for the rest of the year.

In Feb of 2024 I finished what was at the time my biggest project, “The Singularity”. With some newfound self-confidence and strength, I decided it would be worth returning to the IMAX project and reassessing its feasibility. I held off on bringing pads at first; the hike felt too intense to do early in the season, so I resorted to top rope soloing until I figured out the end section. I spent somewhere between 5-10 days that spring trying the end jump move until I finally stuck it (video below), but repeating the move consistently was a step up and going to be necessary for doing the problem.

I kept trying for the sake of trying, the problem still felt too hard, but it’s quality and location made it a desirable place to go hang out. I’d often hike up the hill after work to have a solo session, just me, the trees, the birds, and something making noise in the tree line from time to time. Just as I was hitting a wall in my psych for it, Keenan and Zach got to town for a month and we made plans to go session IMAX.

Having sorted the jump and returning with a crew, I was keen to bring enough pads to start trying from the ground. But before I could give proper tries, I’d have to sort out the middle section I’d written off as being weird, but probably easy granite tech climbing. Well, I was very wrong, the middle was way harder than expected. I think Zach was the only one able to do those moves; they felt ridiculous to the rest of us, and other methods didn’t seem to work. I watched Zach get close on the end jump many times that trip, but he wasn’t able to finish it up before returning home.

I had one or two more sessions before I called it for the season, feeling discouraged by its true difficulty being revealed to me, although I was feeling inspired to get better and stronger for it another year.

Grip Photos

The waiting cycle began again. I went to climb on some easier projects, spent the summer learning how to crack climb, the fall trying some long-term projects (but somehow I stayed away from IMAX), and then went back to Bishop. I spent 3.5 months climbing on Lucid Dreaming for most of my days, trying to link a few moves together, and doing very little climbing. I guess to put it in training terms, it was high effort/low rep with lots of rest between attempts, apparently this is the way to get your max strength up (but don’t take my word on that, I don’t know much about that stuff).

The long season in Bishop had me feeling connected to the landscape and the friends I had made there. I’d be lying if I told you tears weren’t running down my face while my Subaru charged north, a plethora of good times I never wanted to end played back in my head. It was hard not to be sad about it being over, so I tried to think about what awaited me north and imagine how amazing it could play out. I couldn’t have guessed how well it would go at the time, and was still unsure of the shape I’d be in from trying one problem the whole season, but I did know I was ready for another spring below IMAX.

Photo: Jake Scharfman

Day 1 back on it was a lot of fun, Andy and I dragged some pads up there and started trying from the bottom right away. My post bishop strength made the end jump a lot more consistent, and a new method at the bottom was possible. Instead of Zach’s method, which involved owning one of the worst granite pinches, I found a way to do a huge dead point and skip those moves altogether. Likely easier in some ways, and harder in others, but this new method made IMAX so unique from other problems in Squamish. Now, there were very few tricks to execute and instead, 2 hard right-hand dead points back to back. The uniqueness of the line inspired me, and I started to enjoy the challenge of linking the jumps together on send burns.

Over a few sessions, I had fallen on the last jump over 14 times, many of those burns nearly latching the hold, but nearly is never enough. I thought I’d start to get frustrated or tired of going there to fall on the same move again, especially since it’s a hard move to measure progress on to keep the psych high, you either do it or don’t.

Executing the first crux

But it was just too much fun to go and try IMAX. Bad conditions, thin skin, sore muscles, any of the things that make you question if you should go today were never enough to stop me. All I wanted to do was get to that end crux from the start, try my hardest, and feel the air around me as I rush towards the ground. I let go of wanting to send and instead just enjoyed the climbing, a relatively common shift in my climbing relationship when I get close to sending (after all, why not savor the last of something so good before it’s gone forever).

When I was a child, the sound of rain would soothe me into a deep sleep. Now, an adult and obsessive climber, the rains can usually awaken me from the deepest slumber. It was 2:30 am when I peeked through the blinds. The Chief nowhere to be found, hidden in a thick rain cloud. I turned a light on and brushed on 2 coats of Rhino Skin “tip juice”. If I was somehow able to climb on IMAX in the morning, it would be humid, and I’d want thick, dry skin to offset that

setting up on the “foot” for crux 1. Photo: Jake Scharfman

I woke up hoping that the mid-sleep break was just a bad dream, but the soaking wet roads confirmed the opposite. After breakfast, I sat down at my computer to work, patiently waiting for the winds to arrive and give me a chance of climbing. As I got closer to finishing my work tasks, the roads dried up, and my climbing plans went into full effect.

A few hours later, I met my friend Bruce in the parking lot. He was keen to see the project and I was keen to have some company for a bit. The forest got drier the higher up the hillside we went; it seemed possible that despite heavy rains, the forest canopy could have been enough to keep IMAX dry. Turns out that was wishful thinking, a wet streak ran right beside the rail, and the hands and feet you do the last move off of were just barely damp. I got on the rope and delusionally thought my t shirt and small fan could remove the remaining surface moisture and make the problem climbable. As I did that, the sun came out, and the wind followed; it felt like I was in the right place at the right time. Everything was lining up for some send burns, and they were as good as ever. I fell on the last jump 3/3 on my first tries, feeling properly close for once. Just as I was getting ready to try again, the rain returned, so I hid in a cave while waiting for it to pass. The shower was short, but long enough to exchange the wind and any remaining hope of good tries for high humidity.

The hero move! Photos: Jake Scharfman

I remember feeling thankful for the rain waking me up to put those extra coats of tip juice on, without that, my skin would’ve been too soft for the still, humid conditions. I could feel the humidity under my skin as I climbed through the opening, but it was the right amount of moisture for dry skin, perfect circumstances for “sticky-damp” conditions. I executed the hand shuffle before the jump well, letting my skin hang the right crystals so I didn’t have to pull more than required. I placed the feet well, set up, and gave it my all as I jumped at the rail. Everything went black for a second, like a really long blink. Normally I’d be racing back to the ground, but this time when I came to, I was hanging from the rail with 3 fingers. I don’t know what went right that try, I guess I had just done everything right? Yet it wasn’t over, I had barely latched the hold and had to get moving fast before I peeled off it. I got on top of the boulder as soon as I could, hoping I didn't slip on the one wet hold topping out. I celebrated loudly on top, something I rarely do these days. Maybe it was the fact I was on my own, maybe it was the feral energy I had to harness for the crux move, or maybe I just needed to let out some emotions I had been bottling up this spring.

And I guess that was the end of IMAX for me. It’s a bit sad to think I won’t ever get to enjoy my time there in the same way, but I’m glad I had so much fun below such an amazing problem. More than that, it makes me wonder what else might be hiding slightly off the beaten path, I’m sure there is another IMAX out there, this time it’s up to me to go and find it. I’m sort of looking forward to the fall rains now, where seeking out projects for the next season is as close as you’ll get to climbing. But until then, I’m excited to have a summer playing with ropes and gear.