I’d had two great days of climbing. The day before was on Daddy’s Day Out on Delta Peak across the highway from Nakisha Ski Resort. Rated a 10c but the most pitches were 5.8 or less. I “French Free’d” the 10c with a little help from Maryse L’Heureux from Yamnuska Mountain Adventures, a group I’ve used for ten plus years and highly recommended. In truth, most of the climb was spent desperately groping for holds, like a near sighted man searching for his glasses. The rock quality was excellent – think Aftonroe on Guides Rock in Banff with runnels, and sandpapery white limestone, but pitched at a higher angle, taking the grade from 5.6 to 5.8+.

This was my first time climbing with Maryse, a little more than half my age. Despite our age difference, we got along well and she was great at choosing routes that challenged me, but were somewhat within my abilities.

The last day I was tired and asked her for “no long approaches and fun easy climbing.”

We settled on a couple of easy climbs up Tunnel Mountain, Dancing Sasquatch, a new route by Brandon Pullan and Le Soulier, both around 5.6. I had done the latter in 2014 and recall it being kind of damp but easy. Perfect for the day. Incidentally, it’s called “Le Soulier,” French for “the shoe” because the FA had left a shoe hanging on the third pitch.

Dancing Sasquatch was an easy three pitches and really just a scramble. We rappelled down and moved on to Le Soulier.

Maryse went up the first pitch and then I noticed my water bottle had fallen out of my pack. Hmm, that’s odd I thought, but I yelled up to Maryse that I was putting my bottle back in my pack (Maryse was secure by this point), and thought no more about it.

The climb was a little tougher than I recalled – it really is an old school 5.6 but quite nice – the sun was out with great views over the valley with Mt Rundle in the background.

We topped out and that was the day — and my week — of climbing, as I was hiking the next couple of days.

There’s a nice walk off to the parking lot from the top of Tunnel Mountain. I pulled out my approach shoes … well shoe, there was only one! The dropped water bottle came back to me. Was there a hole in my pack or what? I looked at it and sure enough the bottom zip was open! I had tucked my helmet holder in and must have undid it. Yet nothing else had fallen out. Where was the damn shoe – on one of the pitches?

“Not to worry, I’ll run down and get it,” Maryse piped up. “I’m almost certain it’s at the bottom.”

Now guides do a lot for clients but surely running all the way down a mountain to the base of a climb was going beyond the call of duty. But off she went and returned a scant 20 minutes later shouting, “found it!”

Thank God – I didn’t fancy walking off in my climbing shoes.

I asked Maryse, “Surely this bone-headed move will rank on your list of “stupid things your clients do on climbs.”

“Not at all,” she said, apparently implying there were dumber things she’s seen.

I wasn’t so sure but off we went and reached the car shortly thereafter, finishing up another great trip climbing in the Bow Valley.

I have since decided to rename the climb “Le Soulier Perdu.” Or should it be “Le grimpeur le plus stupide?” I’ll let you decide.