Your guide to climbing at the New River Gorge! Find information on classic climbs, easy lodging, and rest day activities.
“This Must Be The Place…”: A Story from the Gunks
May Perez Climbing Arrow (5.8). Photo by Eric Ratkowski.
By Marian (May) Perez
A place I look forward to getting to, another place I call home. I sometimes drive through local roads outside of New Paltz, most of the time I drive up the thruway from New Jersey to go upstate. Jamming to my favorite tunes on repeat with joy or crying my heartache away from emotional pains. Once I see the stretch of windy road on Rt 299, passing by the farms and artwork, the interesting sculpture at the four way stop that not only indicates I’m getting closer, but also prompts the first appearance of the massive being known as the Shawangunks. I pass through the AAC campground to reminisce and surprise my close friends, a safe place for me to exist. A place where I’ve lived in my car and woke up next to the being called the West Trapps. A place where you look into the distance and see tiny dots of color climbing up the wall like ants making their way with their daily discoveries. A place where if you listen deep enough, you can hear the echoes of folks letting their partners know “Off belay!”
At the sight of apple trees and the random billboard, my body wakes up. I know what I’m about to see and I know where I’m about to go. This must be the place, exit 18 to New Paltz, NY, home of the Shawangunk Mountains and home to me, where I want to be.
I drive through town with my windows down, taking in all the quirky things that make this place special. Making stops at my favorite gear shop, Rock and Snow, and grabbing the best coffee and tea in town at The Ridge Tea and Spice. I say hi to all my friends, grounding myself after a long drive and filling my heart cup knowing people care about me.
Vanessa and Hannah on Cascading Crystal Kaleidoscope (CCK) (5.8 PG13). Photo by May Perez.
I look up to spot the Dangler Roof. Close my eyes and daydream about sitting on the GT Ledge on Three Pines or Something Interesting, looking out in the valley trying to find the campground and all the land surrounding it, thinking about how small we humans actually are. We might not have the biggest mountains, but the feeling is the same I’ve had looking out into Yosemite Valley. The beauty of being surrounded by so much, and still so much to see. Or the privilege to be on a 9,000 ft long cliff in the middle of the day.
I open my eyes to find myself on the GT Ledge, realizing I’ve been present the whole time. It’s sunset and there’s still so much light on the cliff, except the darkness that hides in the trees below me. It might seem like we’ve been benighted, but the quartz conglomerate glows for us a bit longer to finish up Crystal Cascading Kaleidoscope (CCK) 5.7+, one of the wildest traverses of the grade. I follow my leader after they send and get ready to tip toe my way over to the big flake, trusting the polished feet and jamming my way up the #1 hand crack, up further to the crimpy ledge, back over to my partner, stoked to see me pull the last moves over the top of the cliff. We enjoy the last bit of light and share gratitude to the day and how we overcame what was presented to us, wild adventure no more than 400 ft below us.
This must be the place, the place I like to call home, where I want to be.
It’s not too late! Experience epic fall climbing at the Gunks and book your stay at the Gunks Campground in Gardiner, New York until November 10.
Featured
Learning The Power of Low Expectations On A Rumney Classic
Route Profile: Stoned Temple Pilot, 5.12a, Rumney
By: Ryan DeLena
Stoned Temple Pilot (5.12a) at Prudential, Rumney, NH. Photo by AAC Lodging Director Allyssa Burnley.
It’s hard to find a route quite like Stoned Temple Pilot: a steep, beta intensive masterpiece hidden in Rumney’s Northwest Crags. And appropriately, it's hard to get people to want to walk to The Prudential crag. Most climbers flock to more classic crags, such as Main Cliff, Waimea, and Bonsai. However, if you can talk someone into trekking out there, you’ll most certainly secure a projecting buddy once they experience the epic kneebars, throws, and intricate boulder problems.
I’ve always described the Rumney scene as a culture of beta. Often regarded as one of the most cryptic major sport climbing destinations, Rumney routes are rarely sent on raw power alone. Most climbs can feel a full grade harder until you know the trick to climbing them. The result is a really supportive projecting culture. Once you send, you become part of the crew that can now pass the beta down to the next inquiring aspirant.
Before Stoned Temple Pilot, I was more of a trad climber. I was accustomed to the practice of climbing lots of different routes, and very slowly pushing my limit. Conversely, most people I met hanging out at Rumney had longer term projects they came back to every session.
I first climbed Stoned Temple Pilot while project shopping for my first 5.12a. I was getting to that phase many of us enter in climbing, when the 5.11s start going faster than before and your friends encourage you to get on 12s. I’ve never considered myself much of a grade chaser, but 12a always represented a blockade for me. For years the idea that my body would be capable of that level of climbing seemed outlandish. Finally in spring of 2022, I decided it was time to find a route that inspired me and throw myself at it like never before. I tried a few different classic 12as, but Stoned was the one that captured my imagination.
Oh My Finish (5.11b/c) at Orange Crush, Rumney, NH. Photo by AAC Lodging Director Allyssa Burnley.
The route begins with a jug haul through spongy rock, culminating with a double knee bar rest at a monumental hueco. Next comes a bulge, nothing too bouldery, but it saps your energy before the crux. A bad crimp allows you to set your feet and throw. If not for a common tick mark, you might assume you need to make a desperate upward stab into the fat undercling, which is certainly big enough to distract you from the key crimp right above the lip. One more committing move gets you to a sneaky corner rest. If not for meeting a local who showed me this rest, I might’ve abandoned this project a long time ago. As you exit the corner, all the holds seem to face weird directions, but some knee bar wizardry lets you cross to a jug otherwise just out of reach. Made it this far? It’s in the bag.
As I started projecting Stoned Temple Pilot, I didn’t feel like things were going swimmingly whatsoever. On my first burn I did all the moves, then proceeded to never be able to do the top sequence again. I expected to climb the route better with each attempt, but each burn slowly whittled away my faith.
Optimism is something I struggled with a lot my whole life, and climbing forced that reality closer and closer to the surface. Finally I had to acknowledge that somewhere deep down, no matter what I accomplished, I still didn’t believe in myself. Coming back to this route multiple times, somehow getting worse with each burn, was easy evidence to justify the pessimism in my brain.
Two things haunted me. The first: every time I tried to clip from the undercling, I struggled to reach it and pumped out. The second: ever since my project shopping burn, I had not been to the top of the route. Each time I reached the top crux, even after resting in the corner, I failed to recollect how I had climbed it on my first attempt. I would try different sequences that left me hanging on the permadraw over and over, until finally opting to lower. Good links aside, how was I supposed to bring optimism to this route, if I couldn’t clip the crux draw, or even top it out?
One day in June 2022, I discovered the complex relationship between embracing optimism, and letting go of expectations. My friend Mike, and Allyssa, who I had met that morning, walked up to Prudential Wall with me. I had very low expectations. I already had aided my way through a bouldery 11c and my forearms felt fried. The previous day I tried Stoned multiple times and got shut down at the clip in the big undercling. I’d been trying to reach above my head to fear-clip it, ultimately pumping out.
Swedish Girls (5.10d) at Prudential Rumney, NH. Photo by AAC Lodging Director Allyssa Burnley.
As I pulled onto the wall this time, I already planned on falling. I looked down at Mike after the first clip and said, “Man, I wish I was climbing something that used different muscles than yesterday.” Despite the bad attitude, I continued climbing. I entered the double kneebar, this time getting my right hip into the pod and settling into the fetal position, then closing my eyes. This brought a deep sense of calm. I launched into the boulder problem, and stood up into the undercling. Knowing this was where I always fall, I thought to myself, “If I’m going to fall anyway, I should just go for the jug and take the mega whip.” To my surprise, I not only stuck the throw, but had a lot of energy left in my forearms to continue. By simply committing and waist clipping, rather than trying hopelessly to clip above my head from a power-sapping undercling, I completely changed the nature of the route.
I pulled up into the corner rest and stayed there for a long while. I still had not been to the top of the route since the first time I got on it.
I tried to relax every muscle in my body other than my left leg, which held me firmly in the corner. Now with some skin in the game, and determined to send, I launched into the top crux. Completely tunneling into the unknown, I tried something I had not done before. I switched my right knee bar on a sharp horn with a left knee bar, getting my right foot on a seemingly unlikely chip, which gave me just enough height to cross to the big hold.
My heart beating fast now, I clipped the last bolt, and pulled through the final moves audibly in disbelief.. I screamed with joy. Through the sneaky art of low expectations, I had proved my potential to myself. Climbing some elusive grade wasn’t about having Herculean strength, it was about mastering the sequence.
I’ve since sent a number of 5.12s, and all of them started like Stoned Temple Pilot. They felt so unbelievably impossible, until one day they didn’t. I’d come back fresh, with refined beta, and flow through the sequence like butter, because knowing the way is far more efficient than trying to muscle through.
Black Mamba (5.11c) at Orange Crush, Rumney, NH. Photo by AAC Lodging Director Allyssa Burnley.
Though my brain is awfully resistant to change, going through this projecting process a number of times now has helped me embrace optimism more in my life. It reminds me that the whole idea of optimism is believing what’s coming will be better, despite not having the evidence to prove it. If you have proof, you don’t actually need to believe in anything. The projecting process reminds me that things can still go my way, even if it feels like that’s impossible, and the act of believing is often the first step in changing impossible to possible.
Inspired to project a Rumney classic? Book your stay at the Rumney Rattlesnake campground today!
Featured
Gunks Campground & Climbing History
Photo by AAC Member Chris Vultaggio
Since 2006, the Mohonk Preserve, New York State Office of Parks, Recreation, and Historic Preservation, the Palisades Interstate Park Commission, and the American Alpine Club partnered together to create a campground near the popular Shawangunks climbing area. Construction was completed in 2014 by The Palisades Interstate Park Commission, and now The American Alpine Club and The Mohonk Preserve operate and manage 50 brand-new campsites, all within a stone's throw of miles of world-class rock. This is a watershed moment for one of the most popular rock-climbing areas in the country. For the first time since climbing in the “Gunks” began over 80 years ago, hot showers and running water are available for climbers who want to camp within view of the cliffs.
Just 90 miles north of New York City, the Gunks offers about 1,200 routes up to 5.14 on immaculate quartzite, with spectacular views of the Hudson Valley below. As you walk the historic carriage roads that access the cliffs, you feel part of the climbing history that dates back to 1935. The Gunks climbing history starts with Fritz Wiessner, a European immigrant with extensive mountaineering experience. He noticed the cliff from across the Hudson River and returned the next week to document the first technical climb, “Old Route” (5.5) on Millbrook. Hans Kraus was the second immigrant with mountaineering experience to arrive on the scene. Together the duo would lay the groundwork for traditional climbing in the Gunks, cementing their legendary status by pairing up for FA’s of world class routes such as “Horseman” (5.5) and “High Exposure” (5.6). Women played a steady hand in climbing and exploring, most notable from this time period was Bonnie Prudden with over 30 FA’s to her credit, including the mouth-watering “Bonnie’s Roof” (5.9).
During the late 40s and early 50s climbers continued exploring the wealth of potential in the Gunks. William Shockley, a Nobel Prize-winning physicist (for his invention of the transistor), added the ever-popular “Shockley’s Ceiling” (5.6). Jim McCarthy, future president of the AAC, became the leading force for this era, contributing undisputed classics like “MF” (5.9) and “Birdland” (5.8).
Up to this point, most climbers at the Gunks were associated with the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC). The AMC were considered stodgy and uptight, and they wanted control over the cliff as regulators of who would and would not climb. This gave rise to a resistant group of climbers, who referred to themselves as the Vulgarians and were often fueled by drugs, alcohol and loud music. They refused to follow the rules or recognize the AMC’s authority. After several spats and disagreements, the Smiley Family (who owned the majority of the cliffs, granted the Vulgarians permission to climb and the presumed AMC dominance ended.
Standards continued to rise with the onset of the ‘60s. Phil Jacobus climbed “Jacob’s Ladder” in 1961 to produce the Gunks’ first 5.10. Even to this day, it sees very few ascents due to the bold “X” rating. Yvon Chouinard and several other West Coast climbers arrived with several new hand-forged chromoly pitons, which turned out to be a game changer. Chouinard freed the first pitch of “Matinee” (5.10d) and aided through the second. The only person who could follow the pitch at this time was Dick Williams. William’s gymnastic background and dynamic style fit well with the sometimes-blank nature of the rock. He climbed the first, albeit short, 5.11called “Tweedle Dum”. In 1967, John Stannard sent the 8 foot aid ceiling known as “Foops” (5.11c) in a marathon 5-day siege. This style represented a shift; climbers began realizing that persistence and conditioning were needed to push standards forward. As such, many weekend warriors began training mid-week in order to be in top shape.
With the ‘70s came the Clean Climbing Era. Over the next several years, pitons fell out of fashion as it was becoming clear that they were leaving severe scars in the rock. John Stannard was a huge proponent of the idea of “clean climbing”, and in addition to only using clean gear, worked hard to make “clean and free” ascents of aid routes. Though Stannard was the biggest pusher of this new style, he wasn’t alone as climbers such as Marc Robinson, Kevin Bein, Steve Wunsch and John Bragg (like McCarthy, another future AAC employee) joined in the growing fray. Classics like “Gravity’s Rainbow”, “Kansas City” and “Happiness is a 110 Degree Wall” (all 5.12c) represent some of the best and hardest lines from this era. Another influential climber to come out of this time period, and one who adhered to a strict code of preservationist ethics, was the indefatigable Rich Romano. Over the next several decades, Romano would establish hundreds of climbs, and develop 90% of the entire cliff of Millbrook.
The ‘80s brought a continuation of Stannard’s ideas of free-climbing, as aid climbing had become obsolete. More and more climbers joined the scene, the most prolific being Russ Raffa, Russ Clune, Jack Mileski, Jeff Gruenberg, Hugh Herr, Mike Freeman, Jim Damon, and Felix Modugno. This collective, though not always acting cooperatively, added enough classic and scary routes to keep any climber busy for years. Lynn Hill, widely considered to be one of the best climbers of the time (male or female) moved to the Gunks in 1983. She joined the guys on many new routes such as “Vandals” (the Gunks’ first 5.13), and onsighted the FA of “Yellow Crack Direct” (5.12c R/X). Later on, another world class talent would storm the scene in the form of powerhouse Scott Franklin. He pushed Gunks standards to 5.14 with his ascent of “Planet Clair”, though he is better known for establishing the modern testpieces “Survival of the Fittest” (5.13a) and “Cybernetic Wall” (5.13d). To this day, the magnitude of bold and hard climbing that was done during this time is yet to be fully appreciated.
The inevitable decline in fast-paced development began in the ‘90s. Many key players from the days of yore had moved on or quit climbing, and much of the quality available lines had already been seized. However, some locals quested on, like Jordan Mills. He added many hard topropes like “Bladerunner” (5.13d) to the area, and these testpieces became the groundwork for what would become the bouldering revival of the late ‘90s. His climbs involved around nails-hard moves on barely-there holds, bridging the gap between bouldering and routes. As more and more climbers realized new route potential had mostly been covered in the ‘80s, enterprising locals turned to the next logical place for new climbs: the wealth of boulders at the base of the cliffs. With the invention of the crash pad, once-dangerous boulder problems were easily protected, and bouldering development exploded. Bouldering in the Gunks, long considered a sideshow to the main attraction of routes, firmly established itself as a legit pursuit.
While it was long thought that the Gunks was all but climbed out, the last few years have shown otherwise. Thanks in part to modern gear, and stylistic choices like rappel inspection and toprope rehearsal, a new resurgence in the Gunks is taking place. In 2010, Cody Sims got the ball rolling when he completed his multi-year project to create “Ozone” (5.14a). This world-class route takes an incredible line up gorgeous rock, and is arguably the best route in the entire Gunks. Brian Kim applied modern bouldering skills to a steep prow to create “Monumantle” (5.13d R). Other climbers such as Whitney Boland, Andy Salo, Ken Murphy, Dustin Portzline and Christian Fracchia unearthed some modern gems and resurrected old forgotten classics. Lately, it’s not unusual to see a strong group of climbers brushing cobwebs off old testpieces, or swinging around inspecting for new lines.
And now, thanks to the American Alpine Club and Mohonk Preserve, all this climbing and history can be just a short walk from your campsite. Each site has nicely padded camping beds, big enough for two small tents. We offer showers and sinks for cleaning your dishes, flushable toilets and handicap-friendly facilities. The well-constructed buildings are modern and the entire campground blends into the surroundings, keeping a quiet low-profile. Come for the weekend but don’t be surprised if you stay for the season. The Gunks’ magic permeates anyone fortunate enough to spend a perfect afternoon high above the trees, cutting feet as they pull over another classic overhang.
New River Gorge Campground History
Photo by AAC Member Bryan Miller
By Paul Nelson
Legend has it that the idea for an AAC campground at the New River Gorge originated at the New River Climbers’ Rendezvous around 2006. Former AAC president Jim Donini and members of the New River Alliance of Climbers (NRAC) began seriously discussing the idea of a climbers’ campground on or near National Park Service land within the New River Gorge National Scenic River. With the close cooperation of chief ranger Gary Hartley and park superintendent Don Striker, the AAC and NRAC began scouting out potential properties that were wooded, accessible, and near the beautiful sandstone climbing of the NRG that we all love.
By 2010, a property had been located—40 acres on the rim of the gorge near the community of Ames Heights—full of boulders, small cliff lines, old growth forest, and several streams. Due largely to the efforts of former AAC board member Cody Smith and support from the Access Fund, the Club purchased this beautiful parcel of land.
This purchase could not have come at a more critical and opportune time for New River climbing. In 2011, the much-loved Roger’s Rocky Top Retreat—the major climbers’ campground in the area—closed down. There were plenty of campgrounds in the area, but none that could served as a sort of cultural hub for climbers to convene.
In 2011, work on sustainably developing the property began in earnest. Former AAC board member Jamie Logan designed buildings and landscaping, geographer Levi Rose mapped out the property, and NRAC president Gene Kistler began coordinating workers. The next year, 2012, Ben Harris and a team of horse-powered loggers cleared a major loop road through the campground, sawing and stacking all trees that they cut for future use.
In 2013, Jean Kistler, Zac Roper, and Micah Klinger continued to put in thousands of hours of work, carving out the campground’s forty individual campsites among the moss-covered boulders. They installed nearly eighty 10’x10’ elevated wooden tent platforms—a great benefit during West Virginia’s torrential summer downpours.
Stonemason B.J. Johnson built two large fire rings, and NRG climbing legend/arborist Eddie Begoon did extensive work on the property’s old growth forest. At this time, Paul Nelson also signed on as the campground’s manager/host. Under the supervision of Gene Kistler, a storage shed and massive septic system and leach field on-sight was built. Electricity and water were brought in, and installed, and a small one-room manager’s cabin was added. Most significant, in October of 2015 the shower house was finished. A beautiful structure with a large covered porch, dishwashing sink and radiant floor heating—all made from the wood that was grown and harvested right on our own property. During the final “push” of the improvement project, countless volunteers, workers, and campground residents chipped in to help.
Today, you can set up camp in a wooded site, wander over to a roaring fire to exchange beta with fellow climbers, take a walk to our on-site bouldering at the Tuggin’ Shack, Souvenir Roof, or run over to Junkyard crag. End the day with a hot shower or cocktails on our massive front porch. None of this would be possible without the help of the AAC, NRAC, AF, and most importantly thousands of volunteer hours by hundreds of climbers. This campground is truly the cultural hub of the New River climbing community—enjoy!
Hueco Origins: Remembering Todd Skinner
Todd Skinner and Scott Milton. John and Carol Gogas Collection
By Brad Werntz
As climbers, we play on a timeless playground. The mountains are eternal. When we grab a hold, we touch ancient magma, or the bed of a sea that dried up eons ago. Things—as they are—seem to be exactly as they were handed to us, unchanging and with un-questioned origin. Even when we know this is false, the illusion of the eternal in climbing is so deep we rarely think about it. Though we almost always stand in the long shadows of those who came before, often enough, we fail to recognize them. The bolts we clip seem to have always been there; the trails we walk forever treaded upon. The question of who put them there is not one we often ask ourselves, or even think to ask.
I read a few years back, with some amusement, an article in a major magazine about a trip to the Getu Valley of China, where in 2011 Petzl hosted their annual RocTrip. The author wrote with enthusiasm about the many fantastic routes they found on the Great Arch, marveling at how well equipped they were with modern, Western hardware, and a bit of whimsy, too. One route had a Chinese mask bolted into a hidden location, another, a red flag waving from it. The article asked: Who could have put these there?
Indeed, who?
In the same vein, there’s been a lot of excitement about the American Alpine Club acquiring the Hueco Rock Ranch, which is the premier wayside for climbers from all over the world when they visit Hueco Tanks. It was at Hueco Tanks Historical Park that the modern sport of bouldering was born. The V-scale that is used worldwide to rate boulder problems was born there as well. Hueco is to bouldering what Yosemite is to traditional climbing, and every climber should make at least one pilgrimage to Hueco. Many over the years have stayed at the famous Hueco Rock Ranch.
Todd, Amy, Carol, and John. John and Carol Gogas Collection
As the Hueco Rock Ranch transitions from its most recent incarnation to the next, it seems appropriate to remember that it did not just simply rise from the desert any more than the bolts on the Great Arch of Getu placed themselves. As it turns out, the Hueco Rock Ranch and the Great Arch share something—or rather, someone—in common: Todd Skinner. Todd placed the bolts, the mask, and the flag in the Getu Valley, and he built the house that became the Hueco Rock Ranch as well.
The house itself was the final establishment in a series of ever-improving versions of the “Hueco Camp,” as Todd called it. Starting in the early 1980’s, Todd spent a major portion of the winter season at Hueco Tanks, at first in the campground, and sometimes as a guest of Pete Quonset’s hut. Later, he rented apartments or houses in El Paso that he shared with a rag-tag band of itinerant climbers. Paul Piana lived in one of these, boarded up like Harry Potter in a closet beneath the staircase. He closed his door on the rest of us as we spread out nightly over every square-inch of available carpet, covering the floor with semi-washed bodies and our greasy fart-sacks.
Amy Skinner, Carol Gogas, Sandra Studer. John and Carol Gogas Collection
By 1991, Todd had another vision of what would be. He and Amy Whisler joined Carol and John Gogas in purchasing a plot of land adjacent to Hueco Tanks. They were going to build a “palace,” he said. It would comfortably sleep 16 or more without a single body on the floor. It would have several full bathrooms so nobody would wait in line, or—for that matter—have an excuse to remain unwashed. The kitchen and the common area would be a gathering space around which the whole house was based. Most importantly, he added, the house would have no right angles. “We’d build it round if we could make it work,” Todd said.
For months, he carried around 4×6” stills of the work in progress. Todd pulled out the stack of photos for anyone who would lend an ear. Leaning in close to point out the details, he would say, “This is the foundation being poured…And here the walls are going up,” and, always, he shared a picture of Hueco Tanks at sunset, “This will be the view from the porch!”
Every aspect of the house was thought through for communal living. For instance, they put no doors on the cupboards, so that guests could tell at a glance if they had left something behind as they were packing to leave. The floors were bare concrete so that they would be easy to clean, and also to discourage people from sleeping on them. The house was built around the kitchen, because there was always a hired cook there to keep order. The tree in the kitchen came from the Gogas’ yard; when they installed it during the middle of winter, hundreds of hibernating ants suddenly awoke and invaded the new space.
Rooms were private, semi-private, and bunkhouse style. The original investors—Todd, Amy, John, and Carol—had their own rooms. Scott Milton and Sandra Studer earned a permanent, private space with their labor on behalf of the house, which long after it was “completed,” remained an ongoing construction project. On rest-days, just about every guest there found themselves dry-walling, painting, sawing or hammering something, or running errands on behalf of the community in the house. Frankly, it was expected that visitors contribute not just dollars or food to the place, but also time as well. Todd knew that the natural order of things was attrition, so to fight this he sought to instill a culture of constant improvement.
Fred Nicole, Scott Milton, and Todd Skinner. John and Carol Gogas Collection
There is absolutely no end to the stories of climbing history, household hilarity, and chaos that happened in that house:
Late one evening, Fred Nicole showed up after traveling directly from Europe. The next day, both jet-lagged and hung-over, he onsighted almost every project that the crew had been working on, saying casually and quietly in his heavy accent, “Yes, that is V11; this is V12…”
Scott Milton could —and probably still can—fold his body up to fit into an average-sized Rubbermaid container. He did this one day as Bobbi Bensman arrived; our crew acted distracted and busy. Todd incidentally turned to Bobbi, “Hey Bobbi, can you hand us a hammer from out of that box?” As she reached into the box she discovered Milton with her fingertips. Legend has it that Bobbi’s latte did three full flips in the air before hitting the floor, but long before that the dust from her car had disappeared down the road.
In the house, there was almost always an unfortunate cat named Stumpy, but it was hardly ever the same cat. The original Stumpy lost her tail to a car, and likely lost her life to coyotes. Stumpy Mark II, Stumpy Mark III, and Stumpy Mark IV almost invariably suffered similar fates, but not always. One morning, we were in the kitchen as two well-fed coyotes came walking out of the desert near the back porch. Amy instinctively asked, “Where’s Stumpy?” And at that moment, we watched the cat—Mark III or Mark IV, I’m not sure which—walk out the front door. “Oh Lord!” Amy exclaimed as she chased after the cat into the desert, trying to scoop her up before the coyotes did. The rest of us fanned out of every door to chase the coyotes off, tossing rocks at them as they snarled back at us.
All the while, climber’s relationships with the Hueco Tanks State Historical Park grew increasingly strained. Ranger Bob imposed arbitrary restrictions, making access to the park ever more difficult and absurd. When the Access Fund and others commissioned a study to catalog the Native American rock-art in the park and discovered that there were thousands more petroglyphs than originally believed—many of which had faded to the point of being almost invisible over time. But the writing was literally on the wall and things would change at Hueco forever. It was time to close the Hueco Camp.
Todd, Amy, Carol, and John sold the house to the crew that would turn it into the “Hueco Rock Ranch”. It operated as this for about ten years. Most of us never went back to Hueco after that, although recently this has changed. While the experience may be a bit different, the rock is just the same.
In the last few years of his life, Todd worked on projects the world over, many of which he never reported. He wanted to be the Fred Beckey of his generation, grabbing all of the world’s plum lines from current and future climbing generations. He wanted to pound pitons and place anchors where nobody had ever been and where they likely would never go for some time. If only, as an old man, he could then giggle at reported “first ascents” that were slightly marred by the discovery of gear left behind by “unknown others.”
Though he left Hueco behind, he did leave something for all of us: The Hueco Rock Ranch—now a part of the American Alpine Club holdings—will contribute to the sport of climbing for generations. And Todd would have liked this. In the end, he probably said this best in his own words:
“My own Hueco era comes to an end. That climbers are now arriving in search of something different is to be expected, and that my version of paradise is lost does not make their own less glorious.”
About the Author: Brad Werntz has been climbing on rocks and mountains worldwide for thirty-six years. He is the president of PEMBAserves Inc, a sales agency that represents Petzl along with other brands to the outdoor industry, and along with Todd Skinner and several others he is also the founder of Boulders Climbing Gym in Madison, WI. He lives and climbs with his wife and three kids in Madison.
History of the Hueco Rock Ranch
Photo by AAC Member Merrick Ales
The Hueco Rock Ranch has a long history—it was originally built as a personal residence by Todd Skinner in the mid-nineties with friends John and Carol Gogas and climbing stars such as Scott Milton and Fred Nicole. Rob Rice took ownership of the Ranch in 2000 and became the first commercial guide under the new set of climbing requirements, beckoning in a new generation of climbers to enjoy this historic climbing mecca. “The place was built by climbers—for climbers—and has been a hub for the climbing community since day one,” says Rob Rice.
Rice, now living in Arkansas, reached out to Access Fund for assistance in finding a climber-friendly buyer who could manage the Ranch onsite. Working with Rice and fellow landowner Scott Rohde, Access Fund reached out to the AAC whose vision of supporting the climbing way of life by providing lodging facilities and logistical support seemed a perfect fit for the Rock Ranch.
“Not only is the Hueco Rock Ranch important historically, it has played an important role in climbing access to Hueco Tanks,” says Access Fund Executive Director Brady Robinson. “Through the Ranch, climbers have fostered and maintained a positive relationship with Texas State Parks. Maintaining strong climber management of the Ranch is important for all climbers, even those who choose to stay elsewhere during their visit.”
Access Fund went under contract to purchase the Ranch in May 2012, and at closing, assigned the properties to the AAC for long-term ownership and management.
“Lodging options within walking distance from great climbing supports the climbing lifestyle we all enjoy—and this purchase of the Hueco Rock Ranch can only expand the types of climbing that we’re able to support,” says AAC CEO Phil Powers. “We hope to create a facility that meets climbers’ needs and adds opportunities for climbers to gather and share their stories.”
The AAC made improvements to the Ranch—committing over $15,000 to completely clean and renovate the structures and tent camping facilities. An AAC staff member will be onsite overseeing these improvements.
History of the Grand Teton Climbers Ranch
The Grand Teton Climbers’ Ranch opened in 1970 under a Special Use Permit granted by the National Park Service to the American Alpine Club for the establishment of a "Mountain Climbing Center" in Grand Teton National Park. That original Special Use Permit specifically recognized that "mountain climbing is one of the principal visitor recreational uses in Grand Teton." The Climbers’ Ranch thus became the successor to the famous Jenny Lake climbers’ camp, which had been used by Tetons climbers from the 1950s until its closure in 1966.
The Climbers’ Ranch is located four miles inside the entrance to Grand Teton National Park at Moose, Wyoming, about 20 miles north of the town of Jackson. The ranch occupies a sanctuary at the end of a winding lane off Teton Park Road, across a bridge spanning Cottonwood Creek, and nestled against the high glacial moraine impounding Taggart and Bradley Lakes. Base altitude at the ranch is nearly 6,700 feet. Three miles north is Jenny Lake, the epicenter of the Park for both climbers and tourists, and the location of the Jenny Lake Ranger Station, at which expert information about technical climbing routes throughout the Park can be secured. The central peaks of the Teton Range, including the Grand, Middle, and South Tetons, Cloudveil Dome, Nez Perce, Mt. Owen, Teewinot, and other high alpine peaks can be approached on trails directly from the ranch. There are 10 peaks and multiple pinnacles in the Teton Range over 12,000 feet high.
In it’s original life, the Climbers’ Ranch was known as the Double Diamond Dude Ranch, which opened in 1924 and remained in operation either as a dude ranch or tourist camp through 1964, when Grand Teton National Park acquired the property. In 1985 the Taggart Lake/Beaver Creek Fire destroyed half of the original structures on the property. The ranch was resurrected through the cooperation of the Park Service and the American Alpine Club. The Ortenburger Cabin is so-named since it is the first cabin brought to the property after the fire, through the efforts of Leigh Ortenburger, a prominent member of the AAC and author of A Climber’s Guide to the Teton Range. The Historic Lodge, constructed in the late 1920s and enlarged in 1945, originally served as the Double Diamond dining hall, and was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1998.
History of AAC Snowbird Hut
The AAC acquired the land use permit for the Snowbird Hut in 2006. After reviewing the state of the original ‘space dome’ structure originally constructed in (approx.) 1985 it was determined to be at the end of its useful life. Alaska Section members Harry Hunt, James Brady, Cindi Squire, Cory Hinds, and Charlie Sassara led the charge to fund and construct the building of a replacement hut. Chronological postings and pictures of the volunteer work parties that have been ongoing since July 2010.
Access to the Snowbird Hut does not afford easy access if you are unfamiliar with the approach.
Please note that winter travel to and from the Snowbird Hut requires that you be self sufficient, and able to make your way in the backcountry (very little, if any, cell phone service). Good route finding and good weather are major considerations for this trip. If you have not been to the hut previously, please know that you could have a very difficult time finding it the first time. It is best to partner with someone who has knowledge of the area to assist in locating and accessing the hut. In the summer time, there are cairns along the way to assist with route finding.
GPS Coordinates: 61 51.506” North by 149 12.113” West
The best way to approach is from Archangel Road, starting at the Reed Lakes trailhead. Note, that in the winter, Archangel Road is closed and this adds to your approach time. Begin at the trailhead and hike up the valley to the old cabin on the main valley floor (approximately 1.25 miles). From here, head north up into the Glacier Creek valley, passing the Snowbird Mine. The pass at the head of Glacier Creek drops you on to the Snowbird Glacier.
Be advised that it is a difficult wilderness trek and the hut is hard to locate (although the new hut is more prominent on the ridge line). There have been many competent wilderness trekkers who have been benighted searching for the hut. So if you haven’t been there before it would be smart to not rely on the hut for your overnight survival. In the summer, the hike can take from 2 ½ hours to 4 hours and in winter, five to eight hours. Pollux Aviation is available for helicopter charters into the hut and can be contacted through their website, www.polluxaviation.net or by phone at (907) 746-0673
AAC Lodging Reservations Now Open
Reservations for the Grand Teton Climbers' Ranch, and the campgrounds in Rumney, the New River Gorge, and the Gunks are now open for the 2019 season! Book a bunk or a tent site and start planning those summer trips.
AAC Purchases Campground in Rumney, NH
Naomi Risch warms up on Underdog at Main Cliff, Rumney, NH. Photo: AAC member Anne Skidmore Photography
The AAC has purchased a 15 acre campground in Rumney, New Hampshire, within walking distance of Rumney Rocks Climbing Area.
"Rumney is one of the country's finest sport-climbing destinations,” said AAC CEO Phil Powers. “With visitation on the rise, and with more than 22 million Americans and Canadians within weekend striking distance, the American Alpine Club is proud to participate in a sustainable long-term camping solution for this popular spot.”
The Rumney Campground is now part of the AAC's growing lodging network which also includes: Grand Teton Climbers' Ranch, Gunks campground, New River Gorge campground, and Hueco Rock Ranch.
August 28, 2017, Golden, CO—The American Alpine Club (AAC) has purchased a 15 acre campground in Rumney, New Hampshire, within walking distance of Rumney Rocks Climbing Area.
"Rumney is one of the country's finest sport-climbing destinations,” said AAC CEO Phil Powers. “With visitation on the rise, and with more than 22 million Americans and Canadians within weekend striking distance, the American Alpine Club is proud to participate in a sustainable long-term camping solution for this popular spot.”
The Rumney Campground will build upon the success of the current campground and create a place for climbers to stay and for the climbing community to gather near the popular Northeast climbing area. The beautiful 15-acre property sits along the Baker River in Rumney, NH and was previously owned and operated by Tom and Marsha Camara. The AAC will continue the good work of the Camara’s by providing a communal first-come first-serve camping option. Look for a few private reservable sites to be added soon for those wanting a guaranteed spot before arrival. Porta-potties and access to potable water at the barn will remain the same through the end of 2017.
The AAC plans to open the existing barn to campers and climbers as a community space and a place to gather when the weather turns. In addition, the AAC will add bathrooms and showers to the barn.
The campground is located across the street from the Meadows and Parking Lot Wall areas on the east side of the crags. Rumney Rocks, mainly known as a sport climbing destination, has close to 1,000 routes for all ability levels (from 5.3 to 5.15) and also offers traditional climbing and bouldering options.
“With the Rumney Campground now part of the AAC's growing lodging network, we are looking forward to welcoming climbers from around the Northeast and the world to experience this wonderful place, learn, challenge themselves, and meet old and new friends," said Powers.
A Season at the Climbers’ Ranch: Reservations Open
Photo: AAC staff member Whitney Bradberry
The Climbers’ Ranch will be open in 2017 from June 10 through September 12.
Each month of the summer is unique in the Tetons, always providing a perfect time to stay at the Climbers’ Ranch and explore Grand Teton National Park!
In early season, from opening to mid-July, the meadows surrounding the Climbers’ Ranch become daily more resplendent with a pageant of wildflowers. Temperatures are moderate, with sunny days in the 70s or low 80s, and cool evenings perfect for relaxing by the warmth of the woodstove in the Climbers’ Ranch library. The classic Teton climbing routes are in condition for every preference, from long, continuous snow climbs, to routes of mixed rock and snow, to dry rock routes along the canyon walls or in the valley at nearby sites such as Blacktail Butte. During an entire day of hiking or climbing you may encounter only a handful of people, or, in more remote areas, none at all.
The height of summer in the Tetons is from mid-July to late August. The vitality of the Climbers’ Ranch is at its peak, with guests arriving from throughout the United States and many foreign countries. Every day provides an opportunity to meet climbers and other guests who love the Tetons. The hiking trails are all nearly dry, even while Paintbrush Divide, at 10,720 feet, may still bear remnant snow. On the major peaks, snow-climbing routes gradually diminish until even the highest summits may be reached by routes free of ice or snow. Thundershowers arrive and depart quickly in quarters of the afternoon sky. Wildflowers, fading in the valley, still bloom high above the ranch.
Late August and early September are blissful, with crystalline days becoming pleasantly cooler. As the close of the ranch approaches, night-time temperatures fall toward freezing, a reminder that autumn arrives early in the mountains. Cottonwood Creek, which roared in June, murmurs in September, with long reaches of river rock exposed where rapids earlier ran. Aspen turn golden on the Taggart Lake Moraine, and in the brown meadows surrounding the ranch, bugling elk announce the end of the season.
The Climbers’ Ranch constitutes one of the most historically important communities of climbers in the United States. The American Alpine Club has sustained this community since 1970. If you have never stayed at the Climbers’ Ranch, we welcome you to join us for a wonderful experience. If you have stayed at the Climbers’ Ranch before, we will be happy to welcome you again.
The Climbers’ Ranch provides the lowest-priced cabin accommodations in Grand Teton National Park or anywhere in Jackson Hole. Our lodging rates are still $16 per night for AAC members and $25 per night for non-members. Make your reservations now on the AAC website for the 2017 season at the Climbers’ Ranch!
Reservations are Open for 2017 Season-Grand Teton Climbers' Ranch
Photo: Brad Schwarm
Reservations are available for summer 2017 reservations. Book your stay!