Some objectives don't wait until you're ready. Squawstruck was one of those.
22 pitches. Nearly 2,000 feet of climbing. One of the longest bolted multi-pitch routes in America. When Friction Labs athlete Johnny Quintana first set his sights on it, he knew the route would demand the right partner. Not just someone who could climb, but someone who understood what it means to push a body beyond what most people think is possible.
That person was Chris Brelsford. A fellow paraclimber, Chris brought the same mindset to the objective that Johnny did. The kind that keeps moving forward when things get uncomfortable. Together, they set a goal bigger than the summit: to become the first para duo to climb the 22-pitch Squawstruck. To show that adaptive climbers belong on routes like this.
The day started long before they touched the rock. The approach alone was a battle, a massive talus field where every step forward felt like two steps backward. By the time they reached the base, they had already earned the climb. That is what big objectives do. They begin the moment you commit, not the moment you leave the ground.
Once on the wall, they found a rhythm. The first pitch set a confident tone and they moved into simul-climbing, linking sections efficiently and covering ground quickly. Chris had come in with a plan: fast and light, linking the easier terrain and pitching out the harder sections as needed. It was working. They were moving well.
Then the heat arrived.
By pitch 11 the sun was fully on the wall. The limestone was warming fast and their bodies were starting to feel it. They ducked into a small cave to cool down. Sitting in the shade, Johnny had his first real doubts of the day. They were not even at the hardest climbing yet and the heat was draining them faster than either had expected. Above them waited the crux section, five consecutive pitches ranging from 10c to 11b.
That cave was also where they met Theo and Paddy. At the time, just two other climbers sharing the route. Neither Johnny nor Chris had any idea how important they would become.
They pushed out of the cave and into the crux. Simul-climbing stopped. They took each pitch one at a time. Pitch 14 felt desperate, fully exposed above the valley floor with every move demanding focus and what little reserves remained. The hardest climbing for Johnny came on pitch 16, thin slab, sharp limestone, almost no feet. His hands and feet were aching and every move required a conversation with himself. Keep going. One more move. One more breath. One more bolt. Chris, by his own account, aided every single bolt on that pitch. Neither of them had much left.
Word had also reached them from another party that a bolt hanger was missing near the crux on pitch 19. That party had bailed because of it. The alarm was sitting in the back of both their heads as they kept climbing.
When Johnny topped out pitch 16 and clipped the anchor he felt relief, and then immediately remembered that pitch 19 was still above them.
That is when Theo and Paddy reappeared.
In one of the most selfless acts either Johnny or Chris had experienced in climbing, Theo and Paddy offered to leave a rope so the two of them could top-rope pitches 18 and 19. They had learned what the pair was trying to accomplish and they wanted to help get them there.
Johnny and Chris accepted without hesitation. Pride was not part of the equation anymore. They were spent. Accepting the help was not giving anything up. It was the only thing that made finishing the day possible.
The two parties became a crew of four. Theo and Paddy leading, Johnny and Chris following. Even on top rope, the climbing was a fight. The missing bolt pitch required Theo to run out a high angle slab on a girth hitch that was not holding. He committed and ran it to the next bolt. Everyone exhaled when he clipped it. The final three pitches went slow. The sun set over Utah Lake and rain clouds started forming in the distance. Somewhere in there, waiting for his turn on the last pitch, Chris caught himself dozing off. He had to tell himself out loud to wake up and finish.
They topped out 14 hours after they started. A long way from the six they had estimated. No speed record within reach. But that was never really the point.
What they completed was the first ascent of Squawstruck by a fully adaptive climbing team. Two paraclimbers who showed up, suffered through it, accepted help when they needed it, and finished 22 pitches of limestone together.
Climbing celebrates individual achievement more than it probably should. What Johnny took from Squawstruck was not the first ascent or the record. It was the reminder that there is almost no limit to what becomes possible when people decide to help each other reach the top.
We could not be more proud of Johnny and Chris from the Friction Labs team.
Story by Johnny Quintana and Chris Brelsford
