Where passion meets the wall and climbers become family
Look, we're not gonna tell you some fancy story about how everything was planned perfectly. Truth is, Ember & Tong Hold started in 2018 because two climbers got tired of driving an hour just to find decent walls.
Sarah and Marco met at a climbing comp in Squamish. She was crushing V8s like they were nothing, he was setting routes that made people both curse and come back for more. Over too many post-climb beers, they sketched out their dream gym on a napkin.
That napkin's framed in our office now. Still got beer stains on it.
The folks who started this whole thing
Co-Founder & Head Coach
Started climbing at 14, went pro at 19, realized she liked teaching more than competing at 25. She's the one yelling encouragement when you're about to fall off that overhang. Her record's V12 outdoors, but she'll tell you her proudest moment was watching a 60-year-old member send their first V4.
Co-Founder & Route Setter
Spent 10 years setting routes across North America before settling in Vancouver. He's got this weird talent for creating problems that look impossible but are actually doable if you think about it differently. Drinks way too much coffee and sets all the routes that make you question your life choices.
Climbing's for everyone, not just the already-strong folks
We've seen accountants, teachers, nurses, and grandparents all send harder than they thought possible. Your background doesn't matter - just show up and try.
Falling's part of the process
If you're not falling, you're not pushing yourself. We've got thick mats for a reason. Use 'em. Learn from it. Get back on the wall.
Community beats competition
Yeah, we run comps and push performance, but the climber cheering you on from below matters more than any podium finish. We've built something special here - folks who genuinely want to see each other succeed.
Progress isn't linear
Some weeks you'll crush it. Other weeks you can't send a V2 you did easily last month. That's climbing. That's life. We're here for all of it.
Have fun or what's the point?
Yeah, we take safety seriously. Training protocols, proper technique, all that. But if you're not having a good time, something's wrong. This is supposed to be fun, not a chore.
Walk in on any Tuesday evening and you'll see what we're about. There's usually someone projecting something way too hard for them, a bunch of folks giving beta whether it's wanted or not, and probably Marco arguing with someone about whether a problem's actually V5 or V6.
We've got serious competitors training for nationals right next to folks who just started last week. Everyone respects the hustle. Everyone shares the stoke.
Our pro shop's run by Jenny, who's been climbing longer than most of us have been alive. The youth program's managed by Alex, who still can't believe they pay him to teach kids to climb. Sarah's usually coaching someone through a crux move, and Marco's probably up a ladder bolting holds at weird angles.
It's loud, it's sweaty, it smells like chalk and determination, and honestly we wouldn't have it any other way.