“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!”

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Samuel F. Pryor III Shawangunk Gateway Campground

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May at the top of Ken's Crack (5.7+).

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Lindsay on Pitch two of Belly Roll (5.4).

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. 

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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.

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.

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Inspired to project a Rumney classic? Book your stay at the Rumney Rattlesnake campground today!

New Route on White Sapphire

Cerro Kishtwar (center), White sapphire (right). Photo by Vitaliy Musiyenko.

A Story from the 2023 Cutting Edge Grant

By: Sierra McGivney

On October 6, 2023, Christian Black, Vitaliy Musiyenko, and Hayden Wyatt summited White Sapphire, a 6,040m peak in India's Kishtwar Himalaya. The new route was named Brilliant Blue (850m, AI3, M7+). To attempt this mountain, the team received $8,000 from the American Alpine Club's Cutting Edge Grant, made possible by Black Diamond. They climbed the route free and in alpine style. This is the third ascent of White Sapphire.

Pack mules descending the valley on our hike to basecamp. Photo by Vitaliy Musiyenko.

AAC: In 2022, you received the Live Your Dream Grant to attempt a line in British Columbia on Mt. Bute. How did you transition from a Live Your Dream–style expedition to a Cutting Edge–style expedition in just a year?

Christian Black: The funny thing was we just needed an idea. Expeditions are challenging to plan. It all came from our friend giving us the idea—something to dream about, on the other side of the world as opposed to in America or Canada.

AAC: White Sapphire has seen two first ascents previously, via the west face in 2012 and the south face in 2016; how did you choose this peak and, more specifically, the line?

CB: I've always struggled to plan what to do in an area I haven't been to. There's just too much information out there. The story is that I met a guy who had spent his whole life going on expeditions. He had a whole list of unclimbed things he never got around to. He was trying to find people to do them. And he approached me and said: You're a big-wall climber with alpine climbing experience. You should check out this peak. I've got photos of it, and it's pretty cool looking. So, the original intent was to climb the big-wall rock face on White Sapphire, knowing that we had to be flexible to the conditions. We ended up climbing more of an alpine route because we went later in the season, and it had snowed and gotten cold. But to answer your question, it was a gift from someone who has done a lot of cutting-edge expeditions and is out of the game now. He had said: I'm aged out and happy to pass on the torch of ideas if you're interested in going to the Himalayas. The Himalayas are such a large place; you'll never know what to do unless you go once, so you just need a reason to go.

Hayden starting a simul-block up midway up the steep snow and ice of the lower section of the route. Photo by Christian Black.

AAC: Who gave you the idea?

CB: It was Pete Takeda [the editor of Accidents in North American Climbing.] I'm like a bad historical knowledge climber, so I didn't know much about him until later. But, I mean, obviously, he's legendary.

AAC: What type of climbing did you encounter on White Sapphire?

CB: We first encountered 2,000 vertical feet of steep snow and ice with moderate mixed climbing toward the top, anywhere from 60 to 80 degrees snow, and AI3 climbing. Then, it was more like M4 and M5 climbing to the top of the snow part. The upper headwall that goes up the direct north face of White Sapphire Peak ended up being a little over 200 vertical meters of climbing and seven or eight pitches of fairly sustained, steep dry tooling. And so there were about two pitches of M7+, a few of M6 and M5, and some alpine ice and snow mixed in.

AAC: How was the quality of the ice and the rock?

CB: It was really good. The rock up there is not granite; it's a gneiss. I studied geology, so I noticed, but you can't tell from far away. It forms cracks differently. It climbed quite a bit differently, but the rock was very solid. Except for one pitch, all the rock was pretty good.

AAC: Can you walk me through from when you left advanced base camp on October 5 until you returned on October 7?

CB: Yeah, so I might back up a bit because we had two attempts on the peak, the first one thwarted by a broken stove when we were 100 meters from the summit. It adds to the lore of the story. The moral of the story is the fuel mix in India is a little different, so it didn't work well with our stove and caused it to overheat. We learned a hard lesson about not taking a backup stove. That was our first attempt, but I'll fast-forward to the successful second attempt.

Starting to rappel from the notch after first attempt. Photo by Vitaliy Musiyenko.

We came down on that first attempt and had a few days at base camp. The weather looked like it would be good again, so we packed our food and some stoves and hiked up there. We waited about six days of weather for a good window to appear at our high camp. We left around three or four in the morning on October 5 from our advanced base camp at 15,800 feet. Then, we had a two- or three-hour glacier approach to the base. After that, we started simul-climbing the lower, less steep section of steep ice and snow. We did about a 1,300-foot simul-climb pitch. Vitaliy led that, and then Hayden led the second half of the ice and mixed climbing to the notch that day. We camped there that evening in our little corner bivy.

The following day, October 6, we woke up and took our altitude med concoction that gave us superpowers. What we had initially climbed as four pitches of steep mixed climbing the first time—we aided a lot of that and left in some of the crucial pins—this time, I suggested we climb it free. We ended up free climbing all of that terrain and didn't aid climbing anything. We did it in two 50-meter pitches. And that got us to our high point. From there, we continued to the summit. There was no terrain harder than those first two pitches. The headwall pops out directly on the small summit. We ended up being on the summit around 7:45 p.m. It was dark by that time of year, so we spent about an hour up there, melted some water, took photos, and enjoyed our time. Then we rappelled in the dark back to our bivy. The next day, we had a slow morning and rappelled back down to our base camp. It was an uneventful third day, which was nice.

AAC: What do you think was your biggest emotional hurdle on the trip?

CB: Oh, man, there were a few of them. A big one for all three of us was definitely the stove breaking on our first attempt. At that point, we were only ten days into our 26-day expedition and were 100 meters from the top. We thought it would be unbelievable if we did this first try. That would leave us with two weeks to climb whatever else we wanted. Accepting the reality that it was unsafe to go up without water was hard for us. We had less than a liter of water to share between three people, which would have been our ration for the whole day. Especially knowing now what the upper terrain is like, I'm super glad we didn’t go that first time. The climbing was still hard and would have taken a long time. Being dehydrated up there is not a safe thing that any of us would be willing to do. So that was a hard truth to accept.

Excited to be at notch bivy before sunset! Photo by Christian Black.

Luckily, the saving grace is that Hayden, Vitaliy, and I are all close friends. Vitaliy and Hayden didn't know each other before the trip, but I'm close friends with both of them. We all have very similar approaches to safety-related decisions. We were all on the same page about flexing the bail muscle. Other than that, we each had our moments of need, which the other two were naturally able to step in and take care of, which was nice.

AAC: How did you end up picking your team?

CB: Hayden is one of my best friends. We worked on the Yosemite SAR team together for a few years. I met him there, and we climbed El Capitan several times together. We just got along energy-wise. Over the past couple of years, we've gotten to go on multiple, more extensive trips together. One of those trips was to Mt. Bute on the Live Your Dream grant. This summer, we went to the Cirque of the Unclimbables for a month. If you're going to be in gnarly places, you want to be with good people. I only climb with my friends in those scenarios—honestly, in most scenarios.

Vitaliy, I met through messaging online. When I worked in Kings Canyon as a park ranger, he had put up a bunch of routes in the Sierra that I kept seeing his name on and was interested in doing. I messaged him to gather information. We ended up linking up on a climb the following year. We had an epic time. We did The Nose in a day as our first climb, and he took a 100-foot whipper. It was really scary, but we both reacted in a way that felt right. It built a lot of trust between us. Even though we haven't always lived in the same place, we'd casually link up for outings. We know each other as solid partners who know their stuff and are easy to get along with.

Photo by Christian Black.

AAC: That's great it worked out so well. It sounds like you had a good team.

CB: Yeah, that was the best part, for sure. You can't compare any experience to doing this with your two best friends. It's just so fun!

AAC: Do you have any fun anecdotes or funny moments from the trip?

CB: The funniest moments were just like how horrible we felt at various times. That is how we each process hard experiences in the moment. You can't help but laugh at it. And that's why we like each other as climbing partners, because none of us take it seriously.

A funny moment for me was when we made it to the bivy notch on the first attempt. It was pretty late, and I had fallen asleep multiple times on the last two pitches. We got up there, and I was boiling the water. It was dark, I was in every puffy layer I owned, and I was ten times more tired than I'd ever been in my whole life at 19,000 feet. I'm holding the Jetboil upright, and my purpose in life has never been more apparent. I hold the Jetboil. If the Jetboil isn't held, the water spills, and we don't drink water. I had an internal moment of reflection, like, wow, life has never been simpler than it is right now. There are only so many times when your life boils down to doing an incredibly simple task. For 45 minutes, that was my whole life.

The first mixed pitch out of the notch bivy. I'm [Christian Black] contemplating how to navigate the unprotected slab to gain the cracks. Photo by Vitaliy Musiyenko.

AAC: Is there anything else you want to add about the trip?

CB: The only thing I have to add is I feel so appreciative of a good team and good friends to be out there with and make hard decisions with. That was our biggest takeaway. We had a two-part goal going into the trip: A) we obviously wanted to come back alive, and B) become better friends. We achieved those goals through the roof. We have a lot of trust in each other. It's a cool medium to experience friendship in.

*Christian Black is writing a feature article for the 2024 American Alpine Journal about this expedition.

The Cutting Edge Grant is Powered By:

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How to Climb in Hueco

Photo by: Dawn Kish

By Sierra McGivney

Down in southern Texas, where tumbleweeds and cacti rule the desert, lies a bouldering mecca with a rich history and hundreds of problems waiting for you to climb.  With 300 days of sun and perfect holds carved into boulders, Hueco Tanks State Park has it all.

"It's a wonderland of boulders bristling with positive micro-flakes and peppered with gaping huecos; it's enormous roofs, vein-bursting traverses, and pleasant mantle-free topouts; it's joyful jughauls, cerebral sequences, and impossible-looking problems that go." —John Sherman, Hueco Tanks Climbing and Bouldering

Highballs, Crimps, and Huecos, Oh My!

Hueco Tanks is the birthplace of the V grading system, the Yosemite of bouldering if you will. Climbers can find trad and sport climbs here, but they are few and far between. Hueco Tanks is the quintessential bouldering destination.

PC: Michael Lim

As Todd Skinner said in Desert Dreams, "This place is brutal. [But] if your elbows hold together and the tendons of your fingers hold together, then you'll leave Hueco stronger than you've ever been."

Hueco has a range of bouldering from V0 to V15. If you're just starting or looking to get stronger in the offseason or just love bouldering, Hueco Tanks is for you. Better Eat Your Wheaties, a V9 boulder problem, is an overhung crimp marathon that won't leave you missing your gym's moon board. If you love highball bouldering, The Maiden V0 is the must-climb highball—topping out at 35 feet; you won't want to look down. You are visiting Hueco, so you'll want to climb some of the world-famous holds: The Ghetto Simulator V2 follows an incredible line of chalked huecos up to a crux finish. Be warned, this climb may be greasy because of its popularity. 

North Mountain alone has 850 problems, so there are hundreds of options, grades, and climbing styles at Hueco. For more information about climbing in the area, check out the essential bouldering guide by Matt Wilder and Jason Kehl from the AAC Library. 

"I have traveled the world and have yet to see a place superior to Hueco Tanks in problem concentration or one that better embodies the inexplicable desire to progress that all climbers share. Hueco's rock quietly urges you to come closer, to take a look under all the roofs, touch the holds, and somehow gives you the audacity to try things you would never have dared before." —Scott Milton, Hueco Tanks: The Essential Guide to America's Bouldering Mecca

Training

Training is an important tactic for a successful and fun climbing trip. Since you'll be visiting Hueco during the winter months, you'll want to begin training in August or September. Next, you'll want to focus on a goal for your trip. Hueco is known for having lots of different climbing styles, so the more you narrow it down, the better. As there are hundreds of problems with varying levels of difficulty and style, you can get as specific as training for roof climbing V5 and up, or you can leave it as open as wanting to climb all of the highballs in the park—either way, you can build a solid base to be prepared for any type of climbing you'll come across in Hueco.

PC: Dawn Kish

Porphyritic syenite is no stranger to wearing down, and you are bound to find a few polished climbs. Train to improve your body tension and get good at using tiny feet. Hueco's classic and popular climbs have seen a lot of people and tend to be slippery, so improving both tension and foot placement will go a long way. 

Even if techy vertical walls and boulders call your name, improving roof skills will benefit your climbing at Hueco. Focus on strengthening your core and legs. If you have yet to explore climbing on a roof, practice heel hooks, toe hooks, and knee bars at your climbing gym. 

The last thing you'll want to focus on is power endurance. That might sound a bit out of place since bouldering requires only a handful of moves, but chances are you'll be throwing yourself at a boulder problem repeatedly. You'll want to be able to try moves all day until you send or collapse, so building up endurance should be in your training plan.

For a deeper dive into training, check out Power Company Climbing.

Pictographs and Problems: A Brief History

All aspects of Hueco are deeply rooted in a rich cultural history. Hueco Tanks is part of the Chihuahua desert ecoregion, the largest desert in North America. Though evidently known to climbers as an epic bouldering location, Hueco Tanks is also home to deeply important historical artifacts and a sacred site for several Indigenous cultures. The human history of Hueco spans thousands of years, possibly starting about 10,000 years ago, and the pictographs and petroglyphs there tell the story of many—they continue to be an important part of this sacred site for the Kiowa, Mescalero Apache, Comanche, and Tigua (or Ysleta del Sur Pueblo) tribes, who use the site for prayer and gatherings.

PC: Dawn Kish

The history that weaves together Hueco Tanks, making it such a unique place to climb, was a point of friction between the route establishers and the park rangers in the past. John "Vermin" Sherman arrived in the early 1980s, establishing over 400 classic boulder problems and the "V" rating system. 

"Along with great friends like Donny, Hardin, Chris Hill, and others, we got to develop the finest bouldering on the continent," says John Sherman in Hueco Tanks: The Essential Guide to America's Bouldering Mecca.

The act of bolting was illegal in the park until 1989, and since the park is mostly bouldering, this didn't prove to be a problem until Todd Skinner showed up, ready to bring challenging sport climbing to Hueco. 

Skinner spent winters climbing at Hueco Tanks, floating between campgrounds and friends' houses, and spent summers developing routes all over the world. He was known especially for the first free ascent of the Salathé Wall in Yosemite with Paul Piana in 1988. As time passed, he rented apartments or homes, becoming a hub for climbers. 

According to the article "When Legends Die, the Changing Face of Hueco Tanks," Skinner and friends would bolt routes at night, erroneously arguing that there was a loop-hole in the Park’s no-bolt rule—bolters had to be caught in the act, or such was Skinner’s interpretation. When morning rolled around, the route was legal to climb. In this way, Skinner put up Legends (5.13a) in 1987. 

PC: Michael Lim

The park rangers were not a fan of this, because Skinner and others were trespassing in order to use this supposed “loop-hole,” and clearly not acknowledging the spirit of the prohibition on bolting. After an unknown climber got caught bolting, the park banned rope climbing for three weeks in 1988. Tensions continued to rise as Hueco became a well-known destination for climbing in the 80s and 90s. But climbers were not the only user group putting pressure on this fragile environment. Between rowdy parties, destroyed vegetation, and defacement of the historic pictographs, Hueco couldn't handle the influx of visitors—hikers, tourists, locals, and climbers—and their impact on the landscape. Beginning September 1, 1998, reservations would be required to enter the park.

As climbers and the Park settled into these new ethics of engagement, Hueco climbing continued to make a name for itself as a unique destination and community. Skinner, Amy Whisler, Carol Gogas, and John Gogas purchased the land currently known as Hueco Rock Ranch in 1991. They built the Ranch to be a communal space for climbers, much like the early days of his rented apartments and houses. The kitchen and common room were made to be the center of the house. Everything was built around housing a community of climbers. 

"We soon understood that what most affected the quality of each day was not the climbs we chose but the people we chose to climb with. This led to a Utopian experiment of building a home a mile from the park to house a carefully chosen core of great people, many of whom also happened to be great climbers," reflects Todd Skinner in Hueco Tanks: The Essential Guide to America's Bouldering Mecca.

PC: Dawn Kish

In 2000, Rob Rice took over the Ranch and added a guide service to the property. After more than a decade of ownership and management, Rice relocated out of state. In May 2012, The Access Fund went under contract to purchase the Ranch and assigned the property to the American Alpine Club for long-term ownership and management.

 Skinner's vision of a home for climbers in Hueco would continue, but in a new form.

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How to Climb in Hueco: A Checklist

Feeling inspired to wrestle some sandstone pebbles in the Tanks? Here's some beta worth following–ensuring you are prepared for your trip. 

PC: Dawn Kish

• Plan your reservation. 

• The daily entrance fee into Hueco Tanks State Park is $7; the park is open from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. October through April. A note for check-in: The office closes a half hour before the park closes. Reservations are required to minimize our impact on the park because of the fragile desert landscape and ancient pictographs and petroglyphs. 

• Reservations go fast during the weekend but stay relatively open during the weekdays. Your safest route is to book as far in advance as you can. If you forget to reserve a pass, you can show up at the park as it opens and try to get a walk-in pass. 

• To make a reservation to climb in the self-guided area, call (512) 389-8911. North Mountain is in the self-guided area of the park. A 15-minute orientation video is required for visitors to watch if they are venturing into the self-guided area. Don't worry; once you've watched it, you are good until next year.

• A guide service is required to access the East Mountain, East Spur, and West Mountain. You can request a tour through the park by calling (915) 849-6684. Another option is going through one of the local guide services listed below:

  Blue Lizard Climbing & Yoga

  Sessions Climbing

  Wagon Wheel Co-Opt

• Pack a Skin Kit

•  Items to include but are not limited to are nail clippers, a roll of tape, a finger file, and nontoxic glue. "The bloody flapper is the official injury of Hueco Tanks," according to John Sherman.

PC: Hueco Tanks: The Essential Guide to America's Bouldering Mecca by John Sherman

• Mind the Heat & the Cacti

• Bring sunscreen. More sunscreen. Maybe even a hat. Even in the winter, the desert sun can be intense. The average temperature in January is 44 degrees Fahrenheit, with the first freeze in mid-November and the last freeze in late March. According to the Mountain Project page for Hueco Tanks, "After mid-April, it's hot as sin."  

• The plants here are no joke; most are out to maim you. See the provided excerpt from John Sheman's Hueco Guidebook. 

• Grocery stores

• The closest grocery store is The Montana Vista Market in Homestead Meadow South.

• If you're driving through El Paso to Hueco, you can stop there for grocery and gear stores.

• Brush Up on Your Outdoor Ethics

• As John Sherman said in his 1995 edition of Hueco Tanks Climbing and Bouldering, "Hueco Tanks is not an amusement park created for climbers." It's up to us to preserve and keep Hueco open to climbers. Leave No Trace includes not using social trails, brushing your tick marks, and never climbing on or near petroglyphs.

• Some bouldering areas have been closed due to their proximity to petroglyphs. Read more about how to identify petroglyphs and which rocks to respectfully steer clear of climbing—>in this article. James Lucas covers a new app that allows climbers and other recreationists to check rock formations for faint petroglyphs, and to learn about their significance and meaning!

PC:Dawn Kish

• Book Your Lodging and Meet New Climbers

• If you plan on climbing in Hueco Tanks, the Hueco Rock Ranch is the best place to stay. The Rock Ranch is a 4-mile drive to the Park and offers a range of accommodations from private rooms to campsites. Costs vary depending on lodging type and your AAC member status.

• The Ranch has three options for accommodations: A house with private or shared rooms, camping for two people to a site, and flat spots for "road-tripping machines." The barn is a communal cooking area with a lounge, games, and books. There are showers available for $1 for 4 minutes.

• Well-behaved dogs are allowed at the campground but not in the bunkhouse.

• Prices are as follows: Non Member / Member

  Private Bunk Room: $75 / $40

  Communal Bunk Room: $45 / $25

  Camping: $10 / $6 per person

• Make A Wifi Plan and other Hueco Rock Ranch Logistics

• If you are a work from home nomad and plan on answering emails or taking meetings, Wi-Fi is available, but it has a limited bandwidth, so it might be worth bringing another internet source. The water is potable, but the Ranch relies on water delivery, so please bring your own water! If you're just trying out bouldering or don't own a crash pad, they are available to rent for $15 for the first day.

• There are both trash and recycling bins at the ranch.

• The Hueco Rock Ranch season is from November 17, 2023 - March 10, 2024.

• Have A Rainy Day Plan

• Hueco is a desert, but it does occasionally rain. Hueco Tanks State Park has recently instituted a new rule that prohibits climbing until 24 hours after a rain event. Learn more at the Park’s website.

PC: Dawn Kish

• Train Creatively

• Get prepared to utilize a lot of body tension and creative foot beta. Seek out those boulders in the gym or locally that teach you a thing or two about toe hooks, bicycles, and knee scums. 

• Dream Up a Tick-List, and Then Be Ready to Abandon It

• There are hundreds of boulders; keep your mind open and be willing to try anything. You never know which boulder will kick your butt.

• Bouldering at Hueco is PHYSICAL—plan for rest days.

• Bring books or games.

• Explore El Paso (40 minutes) or White Sands National Monument (1.5 hours). 

• Visit the Ysleta del Sur Pueblo Cultural Center Museum and learn about the extensive history and culture of the Ysleta del Sur Pueblo tribe, who continue to revere Hueco Tanks as a sacred site for prayer and gatherings.

• If you can line these up with rainy days, you're golden.

• Keep an eye out for the Hueco Rock Rodeo!

  • The pebble-wrestling competition of your dreams. Coming back to Hueco February 16-18th, 2024.

Grab a bouldering pad and set off on a winter climbing adventure where the sun always shines and the accommodations are the best around. Reservations are now open for the 2023-2024 Hueco season!

PC: Dawn Kish

**This article is undergoing edits thanks to community feedback.

Summit Magazine

Provided by Michael Levy

A story from the AAC Library

By: Sierra McGivney

Jean Crenshaw and Helen Kilness rode their motorcycle away from the US Coast Guard base in Georgia in 1946. They had just taught themselves how to ride the motorcycle in the bike dealership's parking lot. The two had become fast friends working as Radio Operators in the Coast Guard. With the war over, they were untethered, the future and road ahead of them. Both grew up out west, so they headed that way, the wind roaring around them.

Once in California, they worked in the publishing and editing industry, and on the weekends, they went out on trips with the Sierra Club. The two fell in love with rock climbing and playing outside. They were completely inseparable. With time they moved to Big Bear, CA, to an old Forest Service cabin. They wove their two favorite things together and started a climbing magazine, the first of its kind, in 1955.

Summit Magazine was edited, published, and produced in Crenshaw and Kilness's house. The basement contained a dark room for photo and print development.

The two were some of the original dirtbags. They would make enough money and write enough content for the magazine and then run away into the mountains and play. Their first magazine cost 25 cents.

In the post-WWII climate of the United States, they went against the grain. Though not against marriage or children, Kilness and Crenshaw were committed to expanding and redefining the purview of women. Alongside the complexities of their religious commitments and their vision for climbing journalism, they were also two women who wanted to throw out the kitchen sink and replace it with summits.

Provided by Michael Levy

Kilness and Crenshaw avoided letting it be known that they were women on the masthead of Summit Magazine. Jean became Jene, and Helen became H.V.J Kilness. Because of this, some men felt free to write letters to the editor, denigrating women. In response, Kilness and Crenshaw would publish these letters and those that would follow, opposing these sexist views. The comments section of Summit Magazine was like the Mountain Project forum of the 1950-70s.

Kurt Reynolds from Denver, Colorado, wrote, "A women's very presence can mean discord and defeat, for rare indeed is the climber who can forget ingrained patterns of chivalry and demand the same grueling performance from feminine teammates that he would from another man. In their mad rush to ape men, women have invaded every field of our endeavor. Let them return to their proper realm of kitchen, children, and church–and be there when we return from the mountains."

The comments section regulated itself, and both men and women expressed their views against this comment.

Elizabeth Knowlton, a famous mountaineer, countered, "But the fact is that to some individuals, of both sexes, mountains, and mountaineering have really important meanings and values—though to many individuals they do not … People vary enormously. If Mr. Reynolds expects half the human race to conform to one single type, strictly determined by their sex, I fear he will meet with disappointment. I speak as a woman who has always been interested in climbing."

Others said in defense of women, "Mr. Kurt Reynolds rather sickened my stomach with his opinions on the female of the human species. I'm sure that no registered nurse would appreciate his statement on women being 'emotionally unstable and notably unreliable in an emergency,'" responded Dick Skultin.

Kilness and Crenshaw probably laughed whenever they received letters addressed "Dear Sir" containing sexist views of the day. Little did the men writing in know that two mountain climbing women ran Summit Magazine.

Instead of outright confronting these individuals, they proved them wrong through every magazine they produced that empowered women.

Provided by Michael Levy

The letters to the editor weren't the only place these nuanced subjects were brought up. In the fictional story "The Lassie and the Gillikin" from the June 1956 edition of the magazine, the author writes about the undertones of sexism in climbing at the time and the expectation for a woman to make herself smaller. In the story, a male climber takes Jenny climbing for the first time. She starts with beginner climbs and every weekend works to climb harder. She persists and becomes better. At one point, when Jenny succeeds on a climb, the male climber does not, and he is suddenly cold towards Jenny. This male climber has lunch with another woman when he usually eats with Jenny. He weaponizes this woman to show Jenny further how much he distastes her success.

Provided by Michael Levy

The Gilikin, a little creature that climbers blame for tangled ropes or slick holds, suggests to Jenny that he push her off a climb to make the male climber interested in her again. Jenny agrees, and after she falls off a climb, his interest in her returns, underscoring the writer's point.

Jane Collard said it best in the July 1956 comments section of Summit: "Men need to feel superior to women, especially in outdoor, rugged, manly-type activities, and a woman mountain climber is liable to give 98% of the male population an inferiority complex because there are so few men who are mountain climbers and also society says mountain climbing isn't feminine."

The richness of Summit was that it was a proving ground for these kinds of hard conversations about equity, but the editors also insisted on doing so playfully.

Flipping through old Summit Magazines, you'll find various cartoons and articles. A person skiing off El Capitan is on the cover of their March 1972 issue. The cover was made to look real with a photo of El Cap and a drawing of a small person with a red parachute skiing off of it. On the inside of the magazine, a complete description: "In a well planned and skillful maneuver, Rick Sylvester skied off the top of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park at approximately 50 mph, then parachuted to the valley floor." You can tell that Kilness and Crenshaw were having fun. They didn't take themselves too seriously.

Oddly enough, an ad for Vasque boots is placed on the outside cover. The ad says, "Vasque…tough books built by men who've been there…Vasque the mountain man boot."

Provided by Michael Levy

The articles in Summit had an extensive range of topics, from challenging technical climbs to backpacking and ecology. The magazine had a news section called "Scree and Talus" which always included a poem. One addition of "Scree" includes a granola recipe next to the information about an unclimbed mountain in Nepal called Gauri Shankar.

The swirly fonts, playful cartoons, and various article topics blended feminine elements into an otherwise 'masculine' sport for its time. Kilness and Crenshaw were redefining climbing to include their vision—broadening and deepening what climbing could mean and who climbing was for.

Summit was about all aspects of climbing, not just climbing difficult grades and training, which are worthwhile stories to tell but do not encompass the soul of climbing, the why of climbing. Summit Magazine was about pursuing the outdoors and having fun while doing it. Summit's depth and earnest silliness came from Kilness and Crenshaw's ability to take a step back from climbing, see their complex role in it, and in turn, climbing's role in life. That philosophical distance certainly takes the edge off the grade-chasing.

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When magazines like Rock and Ice (1986) and Climbing (1970) came onto the scene, Summit fell off. Kilness and Crenshaw themselves ascribed this to their competitors' editorial focus on sending hard and putting up new technical routes. But whether cutting-edge climbing simply sells better or it was the usual story of big media winning by sheer resources, the project was no longer sustainable. Killness and Crenshaw sold the company in 1989, the same year the American Alpine Club recognized their contribution and lifetime service to the climbing community. Under new owners, Summit continued until 1996, after which it was discontinued.

You can still be transported to 1974 and look at old photos of beautiful landscapes worldwide. The AAC library holds all issues of Summit Magazine from 1955-1996. These magazines can be an excellent resource for planning trips or a looking glass into a past era of climbing.

Provided by Michael Levy

And Summit's journey continues. Through long-form print media, Summit Journal will be produced twice a year in large format to preserve the richness of climbing storytelling. In a world of clickbait articles, Summit is daring to produce quality climbing journalism and once again encompass the soul of climbing. Hopefully, they can capture Kilness and Crenshaw's playful essence even if someone isn't skiing off El Capitan on the cover. Returning to climbing journalism's roots just might take us to new places.

The American Alpine Club Announces 2023 Cornerstone Conservation Grant Recipients

A trail worker from Save Mount Diablo. Photo provided by Save Mount Diablo.

April 2023

The American Alpine Club and REI are pleased to announce the 2023 Cornerstone Grant recipients. The AAC Cornerstone Conservation Grant was formally launched in 2011 to fund projects to improve, conserve, and protect local climbing resources nationwide. Seven local climbing organizations (LCOs), land managers and agencies, nonprofits, and individuals have been awarded a total of $25,000 for this grant cycle, for projects such as building or improving trail networks to climbing areas; establishing new toilet facilities and signage at trailheads; and deploying a variety of community groups for clean-up and graffiti removal at local crags. 

Summersville Lake, West Virginia.

New River Alliance of Climbers will receive $5,000 for the Whippoorwill Restoration Project in Summersville Lake, West Virginia. All funds will go towards purchasing materials needed to complete the project: gabions, stone stair treads, split rail fence, and seeds for re-vegetation.

Carolina Climbers Coalition will receive $4,000 for the Table Rock Climbers Trail Rehabilitation in Table Rock, Linville Gorge, North Carolina. Funds will be used to rehabilitate the Table Rock Climbers Trail, a new NEPA-approved trail to a historical climbing area.

Northwest Montana Climbers Coalition will receive $1,000 for the Stone Hill Signage Project in Lake Koocanusa, Montana. Funds will be used for signage materials and installation tools.

Workers from the Stone Hill Trail Network Project doing restoration work. Photo provided by Stone Hill Trail Network.

Black Folx Rock will receive $5,000 for the Diversity in Conservation Project in Papago Park, Arizona. Funds will be used to create a trail, restoration, clean-up, signage, bridge creation, and erosion reduction for a heavily used rock climbing area. 

Save Mount Diablo will receive $5,000 for the Pine Canyon Cleanup & Mount Diablo Adopt-A-Crag at Mount Diablo State Park, California. Funds will be used for equipment rental, fuel for equipment, PPE for volunteer participants, materials and tools for graffiti and litter removal, and limited staff time.

Upper Peninsula Climbers' Coalition will receive $2,000 for the Slugg's Bluff restoration in Palmer, Michigan. Funds will be used for gravel, road grading, trail work, and fencing for the community garden.

Mount Diablo State Park, CA

Western Massachusetts Climbers Coalition will receive $3,000 for a trail steward program in Farley Ledges in Erving, Massachusetts, Hanging Mountain in Sandisfield, MA, and other locations in Western MA. Funds from the AAC Cornerstone Grant will pay for training for trail leaders and volunteers, cover the cost of a volunteer tracking and waiver system, buy miscellaneous tools and materials, and pay the cost of a part-time paid operating executive to manage the program.

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Applications for the Cornerstone Grant are accepted each year from October 1 through December 31. 

Contact:

Shane Johnson, Chief Marketing Officer: [email protected]

Eddie Espinosa, Community Programs Director: [email protected]

Climbing out of the Comfort Zone: A Story from the Catalyst grant

Mika and Tyler descending PC: Jay Louie

Climbing is a way Jay Louie, Mika Kie Weissbuch, and Tyler Poston build strength, deal with difficulty, and rejuvenate. They climbed Castleton Tower via the North Chimney (5.9) in April 2022, thanks to the Catalyst Grant. Jay, Mika, and Tyler are members of the queer, trans, and persons of color community, with jobs in social justice fields that require significant emotional investment and labor.

"Climbing is all about community. Although you can climb on your own and grow from there, if you really want to progress, especially into more advanced climbing styles like trad, big wall, and alpine, you can't learn it alone," said Jay.

The three climbers with different skills and backgrounds came together to cultivate a safe space to pursue a desert tower climb. Dive into their story, told from three different perspectives below!

A Second Chance: A Story from the McNeill Nott Award

"We established a camp at 4600m and decided our best ascent option would be to use a gully on the west side of the peak to gain access to the south ridge. Leaving camp at 3 am, the gully proved to be reasonably pleasant second and easy third-class terrain. Unfortunately, by the time we reached the base of the south ridge at 9 am, a storm had moved in.

Not having access to weather forecasts at base camp, we were limited to a forecast we had received just before leaving the village several days ago, thanks to a cell phone tower constructed there two years ago. Based on that, clear skies were expected for the next two days, so we decided to dig in under a boulder and see what happened.”

Tess Smith and Alan Goldbetter set out to summit Mount Starikatchan, an unclimbed peak in India in 2022 after attempting it in 2019. Smith received the McNeill Nott award, this past year, helping to make their trip possible. Immerse yourself in Smith’s trip report and these stunning photos of India’s Zanskar Range.