Family that belays together...

EVERETT — In this setting, it looked like fun: strapped into a harness, dangling from a rope attached to the 32-foot ceiling to test one's ascenders and Prusiks, nifty gizmos that allow a climber to inch steadily upward.

But take away the mellow reggae piped through the gym's sound system, add some icy peaks and a real-life emergency, and enter the mind of Devin Bishop.

"I'm practicing how to get out of a glacier if I fall," said Bishop, 32, who later that night flew into Anchorage for a three-week climb at Denali National Park & Preserve. "Ideally, my sled would be hanging above me and wouldn't hit me."

It was a typical Monday afternoon at Cascade Crags, Snohomish County's only climbing gym.

The 10,000-square-foot gym has a colorful, confettilike atmosphere. Employees and customers constantly change the room's roughly 100 climbing and bouldering routes, bolting into place an assortment of 5,000 polymer holds ranging from the size of a poker chip to slender, 8-foot-long arcs intended to mimic cliff crevices.

Each route is named, given a difficulty rating and marked with strips of color-coded tape scattered across the walls and ceiling.

In one corner, Sky Terry taught a fellow member of the Snohomish County sheriff's search-and-rescue team the basics of ascending rock walls. Across the funky, cavernous room, a Stanwood couple and their two children took turns belaying, or securing, each other on a series of more challenging routes.

Cascade Crags co-owner Jack Bennett is pleased with the family-oriented flavor of his Rucker Avenue business. Even parents who don't actually climb can have a hands-on involvement, he said.

"It's one of the few sports where a parent can be interacting with a child, where you can be belaying rather than cheering from the sidelines at a baseball game," he said. "Most parents can't do gymnastics, but they can belay."

Bennett was among six men and two women, all climbers and skiers, who founded the company in September 1996. Only a quarter of the gym was finished on opening day, and the pro shop was limited to climbing gear and clothing.

"It was just an ugly-looking warehouse with gravel on the floor everywhere," said Bennett, 54. "We'd have portable heaters going, because it was freezing, and there was no insulation. It was just an icebox — and people loved it."

Now customers say it's one of the nicer climbing gyms in the region. Unlike most, it has a thickly padded, carpeted floor, and the pro shop has expanded into other sports, offering hiking boots, ski equipment, mountaineering gear, books and clothing.

This year, the shop added kayaks and kayaking gear to its inventory.

Everett Parks and Recreation offers climbing classes through Cascade Crags, and the Everett Mountaineers teach classes there, too. Several area police and fire departments rely on the business for emergency gear such as ropes, harnesses and carabiners (latched metal loops).

"You can go to REI, but a lot of the people (at Cascade Crags) are sports climbers. There's a tremendous amount of institutional knowledge there," said Sgt. Danny Wikstrom, head of the sheriff's search-and-rescue program.

The U.S. Competition Climbing Association says the sport is growing, with competitions held at about 400 climbing gyms around the country. In Washington, Cascade Crags was among three gyms — along with Vertical World outlets in Redmond and Bremerton — to hold officially sanctioned events this year.

Though the sport is especially strong in the Pacific Northwest, it's also popular in less likely regions.

New Orleans residents Shira McDonald and Diana McDermott, sisters who grew up in Arlington, tried out Cascade Crags for the first time last week during a visit home. They took up climbing last year, they said, and recently helped a friend open a new climbing gym.

"It's the only place to get above sea level in New Orleans," said McDonald, 24.

While the sisters practiced their skills, the store's 11-member junior competition team began showing up for its twice-weekly practices. A group of parents gathered in the center of the gym, where a couple of old couches are arranged around a reading table and television.

Dan Clements, Snohomish County's finance director, brought his son James, 14, a four-year team member. Clements is a lifelong climber, ascending Mount Rainier with his family at age 10. He's pleased his son loves the sport, too.

"A lot of the kids who do this are real bright," Clements said. "A lot of climbing is mental, figuring things out."

Team member Candace Wanner, 12, said that's why she likes it.

"It's not so much about muscle," she said. "You have to think about it."

Team members range in age from 10 to 18, and represent a broad segment of the community. Several sport Mohawk hairstyles, body piercings are common, and tattoos are multiplying.

Alyssa Lindemann, 17, last week took a climbing photo of herself to a local tattoo artist, who transformed it into a 7-inch silhouette needled into her back.

Climbers tend to be "highly individualistic," said coach Jason Gundersen, who also manages the gym. The sport offers them a sense of pride and accomplishment, he said.

The Byingtons of Stanwood took up the sport together about three years ago, practicing at the gym and making family forays to outdoor climbing meccas such as Frenchman's Coulee, east of Ellensburg.

"It's a lot of fun — just a challenge, something we can do together and be outside," said the mother, Helen Byington.

Bekah Byington, 14, is the ace of the family. She's a member of the Cascade Crags junior competition team, which is preparing for Saturday's divisional championships in Bremerton. Teams from the Pacific Northwest, Northern California, Montana and Idaho will compete to advance to the national tournament, to be held July 11 in Richmond, Va.

Last year, when the nationals were held in the Portland area, Bekah placed ninth in her age group.

While climbing with her family last week, Bekah tugged a safety rope free from its ceiling fixture so she could practice "lead" climbing. With the rope attached to her harness, she quickly scaled her chosen route, clipping herself into a series of carabiners attached to the wall.

Bekah's route, "Left Here Without Air," was marked in gray and rated 5.10, an upper-intermediate level. Once she reattached the rope to the ceiling carabiner, she returned to the ground to help her mother try the route. One end of the rope was attached to Bekah's harness with a belay device that bites into the rope, protecting the climber from falling.

Helen Byington made it two-thirds of the way up the 32-foot wall before she paused, out of breath, unsure of her next step. As her mother dangled from the wall above, trying to regain her footing, Bekah leaned into her own harness to provide a counterweight.

"Now just pull with your arms, Mom," Bekah called. "Yeah, now just stand up. You've got to trust it, Mom."

With a bit more coaching, her mother finally conquered the route. "That was hard," she said.

"Nah," responded Bekah.

"You don't count, Bekah," her mother said. "It's hard for normal people."

Diane Brooks: 425-745-7802 or dbrooks@seattletimes.com