The Nut Tool

An Eye Stabbing on Smoke Bluff Connection

For those not in the know, let me fill you in. The nut tool is a long piece of metal with a hooked tip used to dislodge nuts from the rock. The nut tool doubles as an eating utensil, two can be used like chopsticks. The hook also makes for a great back scratcher and since the handle on my van’s passenger seat broke six months ago, I’ve used it as a replacement handle.

I began trad climbing in my late teens around Squamish. One day, I made plans to climb the classic Smoke Bluffs Connection with a friend. Nico and I met a few years previous when I started my full-time living-in-a-van lifestyle. Nico was on his fourth year of living in his van, so he had years of knowledge to share.

We met in the parking lot late in the afternoon. It was mid-summer and aside from a handful of beat-up vehicles, the place was deserted. Nico was digging around, getting his things together, when I leaned against his van. I was impatient because he was letting me lead all of the pitches that day and I couldn’t wait to get started. After f illing up his water bottle, we took off up the gravel trail towards Mosquito and the start of our adventure. We walked along under the thick green canopy, passing fellow climbers as they headed away from the crag. Within a few minutes, we turned off the main trail arriving at Mosquito. We would climb the classic 5.8 and then continue up Phlegmish Dance, another 5.8. After that, it’s a short walk to the base of the f inal two pitches. The f irst is called Jabberwocky 5.10 and the second is Wonderland 5.9. From the top are views of Mount Garibaldi and the Howe Sound.

Nico f laked out the rope, as I tied in and racked up. Soon I was taking off up the splitter jams of Mosquito. Nico followed me to the belay, we f lipped the rope, re-organized the gear and Nico paid out slack for my lead. I headed up Phlegmish Dance and into thinner hand jams. Nico followed quickly and suggested we rappel and finish the day with as many single-pitch routes as we could. I threaded the rope through the rappel rings and Nico tied knots in the end of the ropes. I told him to not worry about the notes, being young and unexperienced. Nico insisted and threw the ends down the cliff. I watched as one of the knots landed in the crack below. I rappelled f irst, passing the wedged knot on my way to the belay. I thought I would let Nico deal with the stuck knot. Once off rappel, Nico began to descend and he passed the wedged knot and joined me on the ledge. After attempting to pull the rope, we realized the stuck end would not be freed from below. At this point, the logical thing to do was to set up a top-rope and safely climb up. I was motivated for soloing and couldn’t be bothered wasting time tying in. After all, we had more routes to climb and the sun was setting. I unclipped from the belay and began to solo. I climbed up and found a satisfactory stance. I began to f iddle with the stuck knot. I was mindful to not lose my balance as I yanked on the knot. Then I remembered I had a nut tool. I began to strategically stab at the knot in all directions. Frustrated, I ditched the nut tool idea, but kept the tool in my free hand with its tip pointed up. “If I could just yank it a little harder it was sure to come free,” I thought. I grabbed the rope with my free hand and gave one solid yank. The knot popped out in my fist and my fist hit my face with knockout power and drove the nut tool deep into my eye socket. I held onto the grey granite with my left hand, as my right fist was still pressed against my face. I was scared. I could feel a pressure on the front of my brain like an oncoming migraine. Then I felt blood around my eye. I began to pull the nut tool out, while anticipating that the hooked tip would catch on something. Lucky for me, the tool slid out freely and I clipped it back to my harness. “I think I popped my eyeball out dude,” I said to Nico as I jammed my right hand into the crack where the knot was stuck. I was motionless and trying to calm myself. I thought what it would be like to lose sight in one eye. After my heart rate slowed, I brought a hand up to inspect my eye. I felt the shape of my eye and realized the damage was limited. I anxiously opened it and could make out my hand and grey rock. “I can see,” I said to Nico and down-climbed to the belay anchor. We then rappelled to the ground and climbed until sunset. Thankfully, the wound near my eye was not as bad as I feared. We climbed until sunset and retired to our vans. Nearly a decade later, Nico and I still live in vans. If you ever catch a ride with me, I encourage you to reach down and pull on that same nut tool with which I stabbed myself in the eye. It’s easy to find, it’s the handle that will recline your seat. It’s fair to say, it’s my favourite nut tool.