Some Stories
Yvon Chouinard
Patagonia BooksYvon Chouinard doesn’t think much of venture capitalists. At
best, they turbo-charge businesses that damage the planet; at
worst, they fund growth models that hit a brick wall without yet
more capital. Sustainable models – business or otherwise – are the
only ones he subscribes to. “Actions speak for themselves” is the
Franco-Canadian ethos he was born into, and one he’s adhered to
his entire climbing and business life.
Some Stories collects his writings from the days he joined a
high-school falconing club in California in the fifties. It was
there that he learned to rappel and gained environmental aware-
ness (of the impact ddt had on birds). From there it was the start
of a climbing life that took Chouinard to the top echelon of big
wall and alpine rock climbing, with first ascents of the North
America Wall, the Muir, the North Face of Edith Cavell, and,
as an acolyte of Fred Beckey, their eponymous route on South
Howser Spire (perhaps the most sought after alpine rock climb
in North America). Some Stories is at its best when capturing this
era in photographic and written form.
In Chouinard’s words, it took him 20 years to come to terms
with the notion that he was, in fact, a consummate businessman.
The smithy that he established in Ventura, Calif., to make chro-
moly pitons laid the basis for the emergence of Black Diamond
Equipment. The import of rugby shirts from Scotland (to elimi-
nate neck chafing from the heavy gear slings that climbers wore
in those days) led to the creation of Patagonia. What’s lacking in
business case study detail is made up for in a series of richly photo-
graphed accounts of Chouinard’s adventures while at helm of the
most successful company in outdoor soft goods.
At this point in his life, Chouinard is seeking diversity of expe-
rience and his commitments to environmental causes come to
the fore. The two men who had spent a week tent-bound in the
Bugaboos each follow their callings: Beckey becomes the patron
Saint of dirtbagging, while Chouinard becomes a master mar-
keter and manager of people. In many ways, Patagonia became
the first values-based business to achieve widespread consumer
recognition. Many have taken this path since – and, hopefully,
many more will.—To m Va l i s
The Glorious Mountains of Vancouver’s
North Shore – A Peakbagger’s Guide
David Crerar, Harry Crerar and Bill Mauer
Rocky Mountain BooksIt’s easy to become cynical about guidebooks. Although I rather
doubt that Fred Beckey said, “Write it, and they will come,” there’s
little doubt that as soon as a guidebook is published, there are
climbers with their yellow highlighters out, calculating in their
personal calendars the number of routes they wish to climb divided
by how many long weekends there might be between their current
age and, say, age 60. And there’s the fact that once your favourite
crag is discovered, well, there goes the Golden Age.
The Glorious Mountains of Vancouver’s North Shore – A Peakbagger’s
Guide is certainly an audacious title. When was the last time you
saw, oh, “Brilliant Summits of the High Sierra” or “The Gleaming
Giants of the Front Ranges”?
This 500 -page tome is too pretty and too heavy to easily tuck
in your rucksack, and you would not want grease smears marring
the photos or maps. The key is in the subtitle, “A Peak Bagger’s
Guide.” Most hikers and climbers can identify Mount Seymour,
Grouse Mountain and the Lions (extra points for Hollyburn and
Strachan). But dozens of obscure peaks, some of whose names
are lost to history, are possible to summit via existing climbing
trails or bushwhacking. Whether the effort is worth it or not is
another question.
Why bother? Well for one thing, the views are worth it.
Standing on Mount Artaban (Gambier Island), Leading Peak
(Anvil Island) and Mount Gardner (Bowen Island), the drama of
the Cascades, Coast Range and Ring of Fire unfolds from Mount
Rainier in Washington state north to heart of Garibaldi Park.
There’s nothing of interest to the multi-pitch climber, but these
peaks are not walking around Stanley Park, either. Even in the
Coast Range, some trails are bereft of water in the heat of the sum-
mer and cell service – which has most certainly been a life saver
for calling search and rescue teams – is not always a given. Trails
disappear, swollen creeks forded, and rocks can be kicked down
on some of the chossier routes.
Portions from the sale of The Glorious Mountains of Vancouver’s
North Shore go will support the work of local search and rescue
teams.—Steven Threndylereviews