Northern Faces

Marieta Akalski by Leslie Timms

It was a happy accident when I began climbing with Giovanni (G) last summer. Years ago, I said I would never take money for climbing and contaminate my pleasure of it, and I have been tr ue to my word for almost 35 years, but that view has changed a l it t le since I met Giovanni. I confess that once I accepted a fresh blueberry pie as compensation for guiding a young couple up Bon Echo in Ontario, but no cash changed hands, and besides, I was f lat broke and per petual ly hungr y then.

It was my v iola teacher who i nt roduced me to her husband, G, who eagerly wanted to tr y climbing and we al l agreed to trade climbing for music lessons, so no money changed hands and my philosophy of no cash for climbing remains reasonably uncorrupted. With G I hijacked the l ate Glenn Gould’s belief that given the r ight student, al l that could be known on the piano could be taught in half an hour.

A stonemason by trade, G is lean and f it at 52 years of age. His trowel or r ight hand is stronger than his mortar-board left hand, which by my cr ude calculation suggests that on his r ight side, he is easi ly three times as powerful as the average kid one-third his age pul ling down the plastic in a climate-control led g ym. This quick ly became apparent to me at the Double Cream cliff behind the local Tim Hortons in Owen Sound, Ont. Within the span of two hours on a hot summer day G was cr imping, stemming and f ist jamming up overhanging limestone routes graded stif f 5.10, and I had barely said a word.

His second time out he led an awkward 5.8 with pre-placed pro and took a short fa l l above his last piece while f ighting through the overhang. Dissatisfied, herelead the route clean, and spent the rest of the day playing with f inger-locks, smears, lay-backing and un-puzzling dubious or “sucker” rests on steep limestone.