Pillar of Pi - π - Unclimbed for 30 years
Tucked in the Chilliwack River Valley, sits the most miraculous rock feature I have ever seen. Improbably perched on the north shoulder of Rexford South Peak, the Pillar uncannily resembles the Greek symbol, π. Ever since I first laid my eyes on the Pillar of Pi, I knew that I wanted to climb it. On a sunny September Sunday, it finally happened!
Here is a video of the trip, followed by a full blog post:
The Pillar of Pi was First Ascended by Bob Cuthbert and Geoff Mellor in 1967, and has rarely seen an ascent since. The last recorded ascent appeared in the Canadian Alpine Journal of 1994, as well as Kobus' blog, documenting Kobus Barnard, Emily Butler, and John Black's 1993 ascent during their FA of the Grand Ensawkwatch Enchainment (Illusions to South Rexford).
Kobus, John, & Emily's camp on Rexford(?) Emily rappelling off Pi John lowering down 2nd rappel before climbing South Rexford
I reached out to Kobus over email, sending a drone photo of myself on Pi, and I was elated to receive a response along with some film photos from their grand adventure. There is something truly spectacular about these photos, a time-capsule of history in a valley that I love so dearly. Film photos convey immeasurably greater significance than our modern lenses, completely due to the finite number of photos on a roll, paired with the delayed gratification of developing the images and the unknown of whether they will turn out or not. That is why many people, my friend Sam included, still relish the opportunity to capture moments on a film camera. While the advances in technology, such as drones, have allowed us to capture photos from improbable angles along with high quality videos, they somehow take away from our memory of the experience. Sometimes, our photos can enhance our memory of a times past. However, when we can look back at 100's of photos and videos, we may rely less on our impressions of the moment; less on how it felt and more on how it looked. This is the catch-22 - technology can both elevate our experience and our ability to share it with others, but perhaps it can also hinder our personal recollection as we start to remember through the eyes of our devices rather than our mind.
Even so, I'd rather a poorer impression of the moment if it means I can share it with everyone else!
Description of "Pi Pillar" in Dick Culbert's 1974 "Alpine Guide to Southwestern British Columbia"
There are conflicting reports in the climbing guides of the era, with some describing an aid-climbing route from between the legs of Pi, and others describing a 5.7 free climb up the North Leg. In the photo above, I should note that the entirety of Culbert's guidebook is based on "old school" grading in a time when 5.9 climbing was considered the pinnacle of human potential. Climbing grades have, and will always be, a topic of contention in the community, simply because they are subjective. What one person finds difficult, another may find easy due to anthropometric differences or comfort with exposure. Even so, it all relates to comparing a route against what the "hardest" thing at the time.
In a modern age where climbing 5.15d is the current human limit, we often run into "sand-bagging" on old routes from the 60's up until the early 80's. It is not that they were trying to trick the future generations into thinking it was "easy" climbing. Rather, all mountaineers and climbers were hesitant to assign a grade that was too close to the "limit," opting to preserve their ego by understating the difficulty of a climb. When harder climbs were done, they were simply compressed into "5.9+" or "5.10" rather than adding 5.11 and 5.12 to the grading system as more demanding routes were accomplished. This issue also extended into the scrambling "Class" system. A "Class 3" scramble in the 70's was considered quite challenging, and today might even be considered Class 5. For example, Baby Munday Peak is labelled Class 3 in Culbert's 1974 guide, but now is widely considered 5th class due to exposure, loose rock, and challenging scrambling. So, it is notable that Pillar of Pi is given a "5th class" grade in 1974, and in other guides received a grade of 5.7 via the north leg. In my opinion, it is reasonable to call this a "modern 5.8" pitch to the summit by climbing the West side of North Leg of the pillar.
My friend Sam and I had been chatting about going up Rexford together, with a side-quest of climbing Pillar of Pi. Sam hadn't been up Rexford yet, so he was psyched to get up there, and was stoked for Pi. Ideally both of us would top it, but it depended on how hard it would be. At the end of August, the weather wasn't good enough for an attempt, so we ran a 50k around the ridgelines of Cultus. Aside from a ground-wasp attack, that was a great day out together. A week later, the weather forecast looked impeccable, so we planned on an early meetup in Garrison. After a 3:30am wakeup and some breakfast (midnight snack?) on the drive, I picked up Sam and we soon found ourselves at the washout before the Rexford and Slesse Memorial Trailhead. Toting our packs, we departed at 5am with headlamps lighting up the trail in front of us.
We followed the familiar path, passing the well-known mental check-points from my recent FKT attempts. The sandy gully with the batman rope, the halfway creek (ft. a most memorable sunrise hitting Slesse), the rockwall, and finally the boulder field. I had a short-lived temptation to add North and South Nesakwatch into our linkup of Rexford and Pi as we stared up at the first spire from the top of the trail. Thankfully, Sam smacked some sense into me (only figuratively, thankfully), reminding me that we might run out of time to climb Pi if we added two peaks to the start of our day.
Crossing the boulder field, we ascended the West Ridge of Rexford, adding several more groups to the tally that we passed that day. Being Labour Day weekend, it ended up being the busiest day I have ever experienced in the Rexford basin, with an estimated 30 people on the Spires or Rexford throughout the whole day. The parking lot was absolutely packed, so we expected more people were climbing Slesse, which turned out not to be the case. Instead, we passed a couple groups on the hike up as well as several groups camped in the boulder field.
We scrambled up the easy toe of the West Ridge and walked up towards the more serious scrambling, passing another two groups who had camped the night before. The gully below the false-summit plateau was quite slippery with frost from the night before, now melting as the sun climbed higher in the sky. Taking care, we led the charge as the groups behind us followed. Sam and I arrived below the 5.5 chimney and finally pulled out the rope, and I led the pitch up to the true summit, belaying Sam up from the bolted anchor. We were the first summiters of the day at about 10am (5hrs from the car), with the groups hot on our heels, including Alex who solo'd up behind us (for his first time lol). I pointed Alex in the right direction for the bypass descent and he headed down after a few photos.
Gully scramble, parties below Sam on the crux spot of the gully Roping up for the chimney Photo courtesy of another group Rexford Summit!
On the South side of Rexford, we walked over and found a perfect gully to descend with only a two short raps and a final 20m rappel to the col between Rexford and South Rexford. With the rappels behind, I turned my attention to figuring out the best way to reach Pi. I hadn't found much useful info online for how to climb it, aside from a brief description from Kobus Barnard's ascent in the 90's. With a few pictures I'd taken from atop Rexford South Peak in 2024 with Ben during the Silesia Traverse, I knew that the Pillar was leaning drastically to the East, making the West aspect seem like the most obvious to climb. It seemed logical to get as close as possible and either approach from the left (North) side, or to climb directly up from below it. Wandering over to the basin below Pi, we found a flat boulder for lunch and to launch the drone for some recon. I circled around Pi with the drone, squinting at the screen to discern climbable features.
Looking down gully at South Rexford First easy bit to scramble Adding to a rap anchor Sam on rappel Myself rapping the short steep bit 3rd rappel Myself on rappel, 20m Purple = rappel, approx route off Rexford
From a bird's-eye (okay, drone's-eye) view, I was able to distinguish some crack features, and even discovered that the summit boulder was split in two! I'd always thought top part of "π" was one block, but turns out it was split down the middle in a perfect hand crack (visible in cover image).
We put on our harnesses and started approaching the sandy-coloured rock below Pi. From afar, it was hard to tell how steep it was, but it was very reasonable and we found a relatively easy path to scramble to get us within striking distance of the Pillar. There were only a few short, steep steps that we used lanyard-cams or short-roping to surmount. Finally, when I figured we were about 40m below the top, we pulled out the twin ropes (40m long, if you hadn't guessed). I led a short step to the crest of the ridge, only to realize that I would not be able to reach Pi, barred by large boulders and steep drops on the East side. I spotted a corner crack starting directly below the Pillar, splitting straight up the northern leg of Pi. If I dropped down back to Sam, I would be able to traverse directly below this crack, reestablish a belay anchor, and climb a long pitch straight up to the top.
From my new vantage, I quickly realized I had also mistaken on the size of Pi... it was much bigger than I expected. I'd thought I might be able to reach the ledges separated by blank slabs, but the spans were 10ft or higher. Thankfully, the corner-crack system up the north leg of Pi looked promising.
I ended up down-climbing the short section, and traversed to the right to reposition our belay directly below the Pillar. With Sam re-established at the new anchor, I began climbing up the steeper wall. I'd only brought a single rack of cams, and had no idea what sizes I would need at the top. Thus, I employed a tactic of "bumping" the cams along with me. I would place a cam at or above my chest, move a little higher, then place another cam higher and remove the cam now at my waist or feet. In this way, I always had protection from a possible fall, but I did not run out of my limited number of cams. The only negative aspect of this approach is that if the piece above me were to pull out of the wall, I would have a long way to fall...
Approaching Pi, top right Pi within reach... downclimb necessary Route in red Myself halfway up, photo by Sam
About 20m above Sam, I reached a small ledge and was able to place two decent wires. I left those nut placements as the only "permanent" protection between me and Sam as I pressed on with my cam-bumping tactic. The next section was the tricky-looking flared corner/chimney handcrack. The climbing wasn't terribly hard, but certainly not mindlessly easy. I later found out it was given a 5.7 grade by the first ascentionists back in 1967 (Bob Cuthbert and Geoff Mellor). Climbing guidebooks from the bygone era offer varying reports of aid-climbing up between the legs while others report climbing what sounds like the same crack I ascended. Personally, I would happily give this particular variant a "5.8" grade by "modern standards" - hard enough that I was glad to not be wearing my pack but not so hard that I was getting pumped, certainly not a novice level pitch. It was also hard enough that Sam (limited climbing experience) might have a challenging time climbing it, especially since I didn't leave any cams behind to pull on through the steeper crack.
The very top of this corner was slightly vertical if not a bit overhanging section, requiring a mantle to get past. I plugged two cams and hoisted myself onto the ledge on which the smaller of two summit blocks sits. Much to my interest, I found an ancient rope anchor, which all but disintegrated in my hands as I tugged on it. I added a few pieces in a horizontal crack and surveyed the layback handcrack leading up to the summit. Inwardly I thanked my foresight as I placed the green and red cams that I had bumped with me all the way up the hand crack as my only protection leading to the summit. I reached the lower of the two blocks and placed a dubious purple cam between two large blocks resting on the highest point. Around the backside, I found some footholds and mantled onto the top of the Pillar.
YAHOOOO!!!!
I have never been so elated to stand on top of a summit or tower ever before - Pi is undeniably the most insane rock feature I have ever climbed - I could hardly believe I was standing on top of it!!
Pitch in Green, photo from 2024 Looking down above steep exit On top of Pi!!! Rexford in the background
We had discusse the possibility that Sam wouldn't join me on the summit, depending on the time of day and how difficult it was. Prior to starting the 40m pitch, I was pretty sure we could both get on top. However, after I reached the top, Sam radio'd up that he wasn't feeling up for doing the climb. I agreed that it would probably take us too much time, with it already being nearly 3pm, 10 hours into our day. With that, I began to survey my options for getting down.
From my scouting pitch, I'd spotted what appeared to be a boulder on top of Pi. Sure enough, when I'd arrived, a large rock was perched on the edge. I saw some ancient rap tat wrapped around it, and I tried to move the boulder but I couldn't budge it. Sufficiently convinced that it would be a sturdy rappel anchor, I tied my 5m cord around it and fed my rop through an aluminum rap ring I'd brought along. Gingerly, I climbed around and down to the lower summit block so I could weight the rope. The cord settled into place, sending a shock through my body, but all was well and I began to lower myself down, removing my gear as I went. Forty metres later, and I was back with Sam at the anchor. He landed the drone into my palm, and we both released a sigh of relief to have the footage safe and sound in our hands! Another ~30m rappel dropped us onto easier terrain, and we weaved back and forth down the rock. For one or two sections we used the short-lanyard system to climb down while clipped to gear, removing it once in a secure stance. Finally, we dropped onto easy terrain and started boulder hopping to the West shoulder of Rexford, taking a ramp up out of the basin. We decided to do the last rappel off the West Ridge (which normally scramble past), and it quickly reminded me that it is completely worth avoiding the wet, dirty, and loose gully.
Sam on rappel Myself descending, Pi high above One last look at Pi Descending the trail
Skipping across the boulder field, we reached the top of the trail, where we put away all of our gear and began our descent to the car, arriving just before 7pm for a sub-14 hour day.
2026 has had a theme of epic adventures with Sam, and I am stoked to add yet another memorable day out to our growing list!
Those photos of you on the summit of Pi are so cool!