Belling-home

Governor Ernest Lister

My climbing may have slowed in the past couple months, but my excitement for climbing has not waned. I have developed a bit of a reputation regarding my enthusiasm for often overlooked, and, in my opinion, under appreciated local climbs. Bellingham's location between Seattle and Vancouver, BC makes it a perfect spot to visit some world class climbing in just a couple hours drive. The climbing in Bellingham, however, is not the sort of stuff you will see on magazine covers or movie segments. However, being a resourceful individual, I have taken it upon myself to exploit ALL the climbing opportunities at home. I have been slowly developing a local sandstone cliff called "Governor Lister". Perched above Samish Bay in a thick evergreen forest, it is a picturesque example of what makes the Pacific Northwest so special. A plaque commemorating British born Ernest Lister, marks the trail to this rough cut gem. A Washington transplant like myself, Lister, ran a foundry and woodworking shop in Tacoma, WA before entering politics. As governor, he supported civil rights of blue collar workers and helped bring the eight-hour work day to the Pacific Northwest (amongst other things). Truly, a man after my own heart. Developing this climbing area is a way I can give back to the sport, encourage Bellingham climbers to get out of the gym, and do a little blue collar work, all in the guise of recreation.

View from the top of the Governor Lister Wall

I like to think of it as a community building effort, though my girlfriend jokes about my lack of success in trying to enlist partners for the project. It is important to note that I don't have a power drill which makes bolting a much more taxing affair. I hang in my harness for hours at a time, hammering a half inch drill bit, rotating it a quarter turn at a time, until I have an adequate hole to install a four inch bolt with a two part epoxy. With the goal of longevity, and safety for the routes, this painstaking method produces about one bolt per hour. These are thankless events, yet strangely gratifying. Ripping loose blocks off the wall, cutting down tree branches, and scrubbing moss reveals inspiring sections of rock. I have lost track of the hours and days I have spent working on this project, but every time I talk about it my excitement grows. I feel a sense of ownership and pride, but not in a way that is restrictive. During my last visit, on a rare clear winter day, I found a group of people climbing one of the routes I had put up, and they were having a blast. It doesn't matter that this little sandstone cliff will see rare traffic and no fanfare, what matters is that I am able to facilitate recreation right here at home, and share my skills, labor, and vision with the community.

When the project is done, I look forward to documenting and photographing the area to share with the wider climbing community. For now, I am content talking up "Governor Lister" to anyone who will listen, and counting each climber I meet at the crag as friends.