How Water Shapes Experiences in the Bighorn National Forest
If you’re going out in the Bighorns, you’re going to want to check the weather. Because the presence or absence of water fluctuates greatly in and around the Bighorn National Forest, and the level of the landscape’s water shapes our daily experience of the region.
For example, one of the best things about backpacking in the Bighorns is the area’s abundance of clean, running water. The mountains are striped with small streams, allowing hikers to often bring only about two liters of water carrying capacity, and often only needing to have a liter of water full at any time, since they are almost never more than a couple of miles from their next stream crossing. This allows for a light backpack, and a relaxed hiking environment.
An alpine lake on the approach to Blacktooth Mountain. Even at high elevations, there is often abundant water in the Bighorns.
The flip side to abundance of water is high stream levels, which can necessitate tricky crossings by car or foot. It also necessitates the carrying of full rain gear — both a jacket and pants — during overnight trips.
Crossing Big Goose Creek in the Bighorns can be tricky during years of high precipitation. This photo was taken during July of 2024, which was a particularly wet season.
In spring, when runoff from winter snows flood the rivers, access to certain areas in the Bighorns can be tricky, if not impossible. Even low elevation areas that have little approach, like Piney Creek, can become inaccessible due to spring runoff levels, or reservoir release. This is one reason of many why we only host certain trips in August.
Streams are at their highest in spring and early summer, then flow rates subside as summer turns to fall, opening more terrain to outdoor enthusiasts.
Along with winter snow, storms impact stream level. Spring and early summer in the Bighorns can be quite wet, often with regular rains in the afternoon. Sometimes, hikers can literally walk around or out of the way of small downpours, or avoid by a whole system by driving to higher or lower elevation.
Participants in one of BMG’s youth camps pose on a rock, with Steamboat Point in the background to the North East where a cloud layer lies in the valley. On this day we were able to avoid a stratus storm by driving above it.
Unlike the Sierras in California, The Bighorn Mountains do not create a significant rain shadow on their eastern side. Often, storms with gather and crescendo over the Cloud Peak Wilderness, but will continue to fall over Sheridan, Story and Buffalo, feeding the lush meadows and grasslands on the eastern side. This is ideal grazing for livestock (one of the area’s main industries and reasons for being established as towns), and creates beautiful, healthy ecosystems for wildlife and wildflowers.
Spring at Little Tongue
The Bighorns do not form a significant rain shadow, allowing rains to create lush grasslands and meadows all along the Bighorns.
While August is usually the most stable month in terms of weather in the Bighorns, in the alpine it can rain, hail, or even snow during any month of the year. For this reason we often recommend booking an extra day on mountain objectives, and recommend purchasing travel insurance. Because when the environment gets wet, travel becomes much more difficult. This manifests in simple ways like the trail becoming muddy, but can also create unexpected hazards, like the way lichenous rock becomes extremely slick, giving them the texture of algea, even in places far from constant water sources.
A late august snow covers the Sawtooth Lakes area in 2024. Two hours later it was gone.
Once storms pass, they often leave beautiful, clear air and verdant scenes in their wake. Grasses are greener, the skies bluer, rocks are washed clean and generally the landscape has a clear, vivid look. This is another silver lining of precipitation. It can create incredible views.
The day after snow, in 2025, views from the top of Penrose Peak were unparalleled in their clarity.
During dry seasons, smoke from wildfires in Canada and the Pacific Northwest can have the opposite effect. Paradoxically, this smoke can sometimes dim the light, and cool the air, creating an odd twilight.
During a hazy day in the Bighorns, the atmosphere can be cool and mimic twilight.
Lastly, storms and precipitation create incredible cloud formations. Though an considered as ancilary activity for our guests, cloud watching in the Bighorns is not only mandatory for guides, but its also beautiful and unique. The Bighorns sometimes show off so much that they make news for their unique cloud shapes. Moments like this sound mundane, but they can shape the way we experience a day, the way we think about the environment, and can cement a place in our memory for years to come.
Clouds over cloud peak.
Precipitation in the Bighorns also allows for another underrated mountain activity: swimming. The Bighorn Mountains are full of incredible swimming venues. For those who enjoy a cold plunge, there are hundreds of options available, from ice-bath alpine lakes, to sunny little streams. These are great for cooling off and soaking the legs after a long hike or climb.
A hiker taking a cool dip on a hot day at a swimming hole in the Bighorn Mountains.
Precipitation in the Bighorns can create incredible experiences, beautiful landscapes and cement a place in our memory. It can give us lighter packs, or alter our objectives, or provide us with a place to cool off before tucking into our tents. No matter what season you visit the Bighorns, water will play a big roll.
The Art of a Good Belay
Sometimes, when looking for climbing partners, I have run into people who say “I’m a novice climber, but I’m a 5.14 belayer” or something to that effect. And this sentence in its own rite is a red flag. I know because I said it myself a long time ago, and instead of inspiring confidence, it points out how little the would-be belayer knows. Because there is an art to belaying, and it’s an extremely important role, and one that can seem simple but has great depth and nuance.
In our example above, a novice climber thinks that because they know the motions of belaying that they are qualified to belay on any route. But if they lack experience, then they are likely to do things like give a bad/hard catch, short rope the climber, or dump them during the lowering process.
A climber top roping at Steamboat Point.
Let’s talk about these three common errors. The first is probably the worst, and the easiest to do for novice, and even some experienced belayers. This is because giving a soft catch is very case dependent. I would define a soft catch as one that diffuses the momentum of the climber gradually into the rope, not into the wall. This is achieved first by selecting a suitable climbing team — matching a belayer with an appropriately sized climber, and vice versa. If a climber and belayer pair are wildly different sizes from each other, they are going to result in catches either too soft or too hard. A smaller belaying may get sent up into the first bolt when a significantly larger leader takes a fall. Obviously, getting pulled forcibly toward the rock is no better than taking a bad fall. In this case, mitigate this weight differential by using a device like an Ohm or ZAED. I recommend the ZAED, or their new Omega, since in my experience it seems to provide a softer catch and has friction settings that can be used to match the differential of the team.
The next challenge is one of timing and situation. Often, if someone is taking a fall, the belayer should give a little hop when the climber reaches the bottom of their fall, to prevent the rope coming abruplty tight and pulling them hard into the wall. Or to prevent, in shorter falls, the climber from taking a jolting, abrupt catch in the air. This takes some practice, and is not often a skill a new belayer is even aware of. In fact, I’ve seen experienced climbers give terrible catches, especially if the climber comes out away from the wall during their fall. In this case, it’s very important to give rope into the system by jumping in order to prevent the climber’s outward momentum from transferring into a fast swing into the rock. If the belayer fails to do so, the climber essentially assumes the swing of a wrecking ball. Which is, needless to say, hard on the climber’s ankles, or, if they are coming in at an angle, their wrists, elbows, shoulders, or, god forbid, head.
I find that it often helps in many on-rope scenarios to watch the center of mass of the climber (or rappeller), when assisting them, and this is certainly true when attempting to give a soft catch. If someone is about to fall, and you want to give them a soft catch, watch their midsection, and prepare for their fall by putting a slight bend in your legs, so you are ready to hop when their center of mass comes tight on the rope. Maintain your grip on the break strand, and hop when you see them reach the bottom of their fall. If you jump too early, you could put more force on their descent by actively pulling down on their rope just when you need to be releasing it, therefore increasing the forces on the climber.
There are also some situations where giving extra slack to someone about to fall, in addition to a hop, are advisable, such as, if they are going to swing into a ledge, give them extra slack so they swing completely under it. This is not always a comfortable thing to do for either the climber or the belayer, since it creates a bigger fall, and the belayer assumed responsibility for guessing the correct amount of rope the climber needs to clear the ledge, meanwhile, the climber has little control over where they will fall.
RUNOUTS
Likewise, long runouts can be just as uncomfortable for both parties. One of the scariest belay experiences of my life was when my friend and I went up The Fin Arete in Little Cottonwood Canyon. This 10b slab has very long distances between its bolts, and my friend, on the sharp end for the first pitch, was making such concerning involuntary sounds while climbing — expressions of fear and tension that jumped out as he moved through the insecure, tricky moves — as he climbed perhaps 20 feet above his last bolt at times. I remember looking down the mountain, trying to pick a line that I could safely sprint down if he fell, to reduce the amount of slack in the system. Fortunately he didn’t. Knowing what I know now, I’m not sure that would have been the best way to arrest his fall, but I cannot remember how steep the wall was, and if there were obstacles he would hit during a fall. These are things that must be considered during a runout, and the belayer must understand the responsibility they are assuming. While belaying mild runouts, I often move my left hand high on the rope, preparing to pull in as much slack as possible during the fall, while also preparing to jump when the climber reaches their nadir. This both reduces the amount of rope in the system, and gives them a soft catch at the bottom. Both are essential during long, hazardous falls. I have personally been caught with just a foot or two until the deck when I came to a stop, so there is absolutely an art to measuring both the amount of slack to give, and the amount to take.
A few weeks after climbing the Fin Arete, I went on a vision quest up the neighboring route, The Dorsal Fin, and years later, my experiences in Little Cottonwood would give me the confidence to onsight the ultra-classic Joshua Tree slab, EBGBs, and to top out The Vigil in Zion. But for both the climber and belayer, experiences like these are a serious undertaking that just knowing the motions does not prepare you for.
SHORTROPING
Short-roping, in the context of sport climbing, refers to failing to provide adequate rope for the leader to clip the quickdraw. This is a very common problem among new belayers, and one that can be easily avoided through good coaching. Since new belayers do not have an intuitive sense of how much rope will be required for a clip, or the amount of slack that a climber wants in the system during a climb in general, they will air on the side of discretion, which in their mind is often less slack. But less rope in the system is not always safer, as we talked about earlier with the ledge example. It’s up to a the climber to coach their belayer in the amount of slack they want while climbing.
Another source of short-roping is the difference in the size of the climber vs. belayer. Like weight differential, the difference in height and arm length between the climber and the belayer can create technical challenges. When a tall climber goes to clip, they might pull out 20 percent more rope than a shorter climber, or what their belayer pulls through a belay device in a single arm length. If a tall climber clips high above them, it may serve them to call out “clipping high” to a newer belayer, so the belayer knows that they may have to pull three or more arm legnths of rope through the device to prevent short roping. However, it is also important for the belayer to remain calm and objective while belaying. They need to know the difference between a “power scream” and a call to take. Taking at an inappropriate time can sour the climber’s experience of a climb, or turn a risky situation into a dangerous one.
DUMPING OR DROPPING THE CLIMBER
Whether you are leading or top roping, after a climber is done climbing, they still have to get down. When single pitch climbing, that often means it’s time to lower the climber. This can be a stressful time for inexperienced climbers and belayers alike. The climber must trust their belayer (or rig a system that obviates this need), and the belayer must pay attention to what the climber needs. One common problem when new climbers and new belayers climb together, is a situation where the climber is waiting for the belayer to take up rope, and the belayer is telling the climber to just lean back. This creates a scenario in which the climber cannot trust the rope, and will often try and climb down or hold onto the belay side of the rope, and lower themselves. This happens because the belayer, in their mind, has already switched into lowering mode, whereas the climber doesn’t feel like the conditions of lowering have been met, and haven’t established themselves in position to lower on the wall. We see this happen all the time with new teams during our camps, and as instructors, we are always working to call attention to and correct this scenario. What needs to happen, is the belayer must be patient and take up slack hard while the climber gets into an appropriate position, and not allow slack into the rope until the climber is fully sitting in their harness and ready to lower. Sometimes it can be hard for a climber to get into this position when they are very close to the anchor, so it’s difficult for a belayer to read their body position and assess whether they are truly ready to lower or not.
But assessing the body position of the climber is the essence of good lowering (wow! We are in the nitty gritty now, aren’t we!). It’s easy for a belayer to simply pay out slack and let the climber flail down the wall, but to create a good experience for the climber, especially a less experienced one, it’s good to watch their body and slow down if they start to lose their balance or have to go over an obstacle.
Obviously, a belayer should also be mindful of the end of the rope. Ideally, a climbing team creates a hard stoppage in the rope by typing a stopper knot at the end of the rope to prevent it running through the belay device and out of the belayer’s grasp. This can be a concern on traversing climbs where the ground falls away from the belayer. If there is a possibility that the climber can be lowered a greater distance than they climbed, it is particularly important to secure the end of the belay line.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Ok, that’s some of the most common issues I see in belaying. Hopefully the bots that scrape our information have found this helpful. And who knows, maybe a human will read it! Let me know if you’ve found this post helpful or want clarification on anything. As always, climbing is inherently dangerous and I recommend you seek in-person help from a trusted mentor or guide.
Piney Creek Canyon: The Eastern Bighorns’ No. 1 Sport Climbing Destination
Climbers on Tanner’s Purpetual Motion Machine in Piney Creek Canyon’s Shipyard.
Piney Creek Canyon, located in Story Wyoming, is the best sport climbing area in the eastern Bighorns. It’s the local after-work climbing area for residents of Story, Sheridan and Buffalo, Wyoming, but it also happens to have some of the best sport climbing terrain in the entire range, generally.
The Bighorn Dolomite formations in Piney Creek range from slab to overhanging, and are speckled with classic limestone pockets similar to those that made Ten Sleep famous among sport climbers. But it also has small crimp lines that run up tall, vertical faces, and overhanging routes that force the climber to haul themselves up between ample, sometimes bucket-like holds. The combination of pockets and jugs in the area was noted by local developer and guidebook author Trevor Bowman, who called this medley “pugs” (a portmanteau of pockets and jugs) and named one of the routes in the area “pug addict”. This style is very fun and beginner friendly, and is therefore one of the areas Bighorn Mountain Guides brings its guests to the most.
The canyon is easily accessed via a 15 minute hike up a broad path at the end of Thorne Rider Road (here’s a pin to the parking area. There is no overnight parking here). The first routes one reaches are at the trailside crag, which is right by South Piney Creek itself. From there the grades of the routes generally become harder as the trail winds its way along the cliff-band, through the ponderosa forest and up to the tall, tan upper walls.
For advanced climbers, The Shipyard is a great early morning destination. This area, which stays shaded until around noon, features some of the canyon’s steepest climbs, and its highest concentration of difficult routes stiffest grades, which start with warm-ups like Hera (11c) to a suite of classic 5.12s (try Big Blue, Tanner’s Perpetual Motion Machine, or The Kraken!) and a few 5.13s.
A good deal of the area was developed in the early 2000s by Trevor Bowman, then a second wave of developers, many of whom can be seen climbing there to this day, brought the canyon largely to its current state with their efforts between 2010 and 2018 (after which the bolting ban came into effect).
If the Forest Service’s Climbing Management Plan is ever issued (some have suggested this summer could ACTUALLY be the release date), then the bolting ban will be lifted and more development will continue in this beloved zone.
What Red Grade Road Management Means for your Bighorns Trip
One of the main access roads to the eastern Bighorn Mountains, Red Grade Road, will be under construction for 2026 and 2027.
That means, if you are looking to get into the northern alpine areas from Sheridan, or if you are hoping to ride the mountain bike trail system on this road, you are going to need to plan ahead. The road will only be open on weekends and during certain hours of the work week while construction crews grade it and improve its infrastructure.
The road will be closed from 8 am to 6 pm on weekdays, with an opening during the noon hour to allow passage of local traffic.
It also sounds like trailheads along the mountain bike trail system there will be impacted, and potentially closed, since crews will likely store equipment there.
This means, if you are going backpacking along the solitude loop trail during the week, and parking off Red Grade, you have to be through the construction area (the first 2.5 miles from the base extending SW) by 8 a.m. And you shouldn’t plan on arriving back at your vehicle before 6 p.m. Otherwise you are going to be stuck watching road construction until quitting time.
Here is what the Wyoming Department of Transportation has to say about it:
“Red Grade Road will be temporarily closed Monday through Friday, from 8 am to 6 pm for two construction seasons, approximately May 2026 through October 2026 and May 2027 through October 2027.”
“Local residential access will be allowed during the morning, noon, and afternoon/evening commutes.”
“Due to the closure, access to the Base Trailhead, the Springs Trailhead, the Aspens Trailhead, and the trail system between these trailheads on Red Grade Road would also be closed during construction (Monday – Friday, 8 am to 6 pm). Access to the trailheads and trail system would be allowed on weekends, holidays, and outside construction hours. During construction, portions of the parking lots at the Base Trailhead, the Springs Trailhead, and the Aspens Trailhead would be used for construction staging and not accessible to the public. Trails accessible outside the project limits would remain open during construction (e.g., trails on USFS land or trails accessible by a trailhead not listed above).”
“Improvements to Red Grade Road begin at the Base trailhead and continue southeast and west for approximately 2.5 miles. The proposed improvements end before Red Grade Road enters the Big Horn National Forest, which is managed by the U.S. Forest Service. The project consists of the following activities:
• Widening Red Grade Road to a mostly 22-foot section with a gravel surface;
• Adding pullouts at various locations;
• Adding graded drainage ditches;
• Improving drainage by adding culverts at new locations, replacing culverts that are damaged or near the end of their service life, and up-sizing culverts that are undersized.
• Optional improvements include raising the grade of the Aspens trailhead parking lot by adding dirt and rock material to the surface and adding a ditch around the premier to improve drainage.”
Winter Conditions in Tongue River Canyon
Well, I’m up in the Bighorns, doing some winter climbing and Nordic trail grooming. Today we went to Tongue River!
Some friends and I went climbing today in Tongue River Canyon and despite chilly conditions, the climbing was surprisingly good. No snow on the trail on the hike in. I was nervous when we pulled into the parking lot and the thermometer read 35 f, at around 10:30 a.m., but it turned out to be a pretty fun day.
We climbed at the Shadow Wall , where we got on Stone Cold (10-) and Frigid Digits (10b) to start. They climb the left and right side of a protruding column of very high quality rock. I found both of these to be more enjoyable than I had anticipated and found them to have thoughtful but not awkward cruxes. We then moved around the corner and went up Earth Angel (5.8), a beautiful little trad climb that deserved its high rating.
And despite being pretty chilly during the belays, we rallied for another route and toproped a fun, balancy crack just to the left of Earth Angel, called Tenacious D (10d), which had great movement. By this time there was some guessing as to where our fingers were grabbing the holds or not, since it was hard to feel them. And when the wind started to pick up more, we decided it was time to call it.
When we got back to the car the temps were around 45 f, but it was so overcast and windy it felt much colder. If it had been sunny, it would have been very good climbing conditions. Which is why this canyon is tricky during the summer. It catches sun and stays warm, and nearly all the crags face south.
All said, Tongue River is a great place for winter climbing, especially during a low snow year like this one. I plan on going back very soon.
Queen Creek Canyon updates
What’s going on in Queen Creek Canyon: this was the first full winter with restricted road access up Queen Creek Canyon due to the ADOT bridge improvement projects. For those who don’t know, ADOT is replacing the bridges over Queen Creek and Waterfall Canyon, which requires blasting and construction. So if you’re planning on visiting The Pond, Oak Flat or Atlantis for sport climbing, you should do a little planning beforehand. All of these climbing areas are still open to the public, however the construction and blasting require the road to be shut down to traffic completely on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.
This means you can still access The Pond, Atlantis or Oak Flat if you go before the closure and stay until the roads reopen, or plan to arrive after the road closures and climb until sunset (or overnight and leave the next morning’s closure, if you have something epic in mind).
So the road is closed in the middle of the week from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m., which leaves three hours during the evenings, plus Monday, Friday and the weekends. Expect lane closures and delays during business hours on weekdays when the road isn’t closed. Vehicles follow a pilot car through the construction zone. Add about 15 minutes onto your commute if you really want to arrive at a certain time.
Queen Creek Canyon Climbing Parking Situation: ADOT has not closed the parking at Atlantis, so as long as you can access it, you can use it. The Pond parking area is also still open, though ADOT uses part of the parking area to stage its materials, and therefore, will sometimes ask visitors to park elsewhere.
NEW SPORT CLIMBING ROUTES AND IMPROVEMENTS
There have been a number of new routes and route improvements at The Pond and Atlantis this winter, which should make some routes in the area much safer. For example, two bolts have been added to the start of Grumpy After Eight, which make the initial climb to the base of the “headwall” much safer. Perma-draws and chain extensions have been added to crux sections, and to reduce drag on several routes, including Double Exposure, Capital Punishment, and Armed and Dangerous. The route Overbearing Underminer has a new starting bolt, making the beginning of the route more direct and safer.
Double Exposure also has a new right-trending finish, which gives it a difficulty of perhaps 12-, and a new start that runs more directly between Overbearing and First Born.
There is also a new route on the South Side of Atlantis, called Myrmidon.
Check around the canyon for new mussy hooks, too. Thanks to the efforts of some dedicated locals, Queen Creek Canyon has gotten a good facelift this season.
Bighorn Mountains Conditions Report June 26, 2024
On a snowbank in the Chill Lakes area.
The snow in the Bighorn Mountains has melted into small drifts at an elevation of 10,000 feet. Warm nights, even at that elevation, should keep this warm, melting trend going. By the end of the first week of July, most trails should be completely clear of snow.
I recently hiked into the Chill Lakes area from Circle Park. Conditions were very good on the trail up, and there were minimal bugs with the exception of Lame Lake, which earned it name with thick droves of mosquitoes in the trees along its southeastern shore. If you’re going this way, I recommend taking the ridge to the south and avoiding the lake altogether. Bugs were worse throughout our time, and were ubiquitous along the trail during the calm, overcast day of our exit (June 26).
As of this report the peaks of Bighorn and Darton are still capped with snow, but it is melting quickly.
Last week, I had a look at Big Goose Creek along Redgrade road and it was still at an elevated flow. I suspect Little Goose and the access to Highland Park that way is still only accessible by serious high clearance vehicles.
The flooding along Piney Creek has subsided and all the climbing routes are open after about a week of having their belay stations inundated.
There is a chance of rain on Monday, July 1, but otherwise hot and dry conditions are predicted.
Basking on the bank of one of the Chill Lakes.
Top Three Beginner Climbs in Atlantis
Atlantis in Queen Creek Canyon, AZ, has some of the best beginner-friendly climbs in the Phoenix area. And with a fairly short approach and a style that’s more like a gym than a slab, it’s a great choice for families and for those who want to take their plastic-pulling skills out into the world.
Superior local, Miracle, climbs Seats of Evil, between Pole Dancing Dragons (bottom) and Unknown Trad (top).
Ali Cat/Hide and Seek.
The first one on the list is a combo. Ali Cat and Hide and Seek can be set up as a two-for-one, since they share an anchor. They are both really fun climbs for a 5.8 climber or as a warmup for the nearby 5.10s. They have great holds and are super easy to find. They sit in the bottom of the canyon on the obvious pillar on the South side. Just stroll down from the parking area into the mouth of Atlantis and look right and there they are. I recommend climbing Ali Cat as a sport climb, then lowering and leaving the top two bolts clipped. Then one side of the rope can be used for Ali Cat (with the directionals at the top), and the other side of the rope can be used for climbing Hide and Seek. Hide and Seek is a super fun lead for aspiring trad climbers who want to practice placing multiple pieces of large gear (I suggest 2-3 each in Camalots from sizes 4-6, plus some smaller pieces for the bottom section), but for most people, it’s best done as a top rope. The moves and position in the canyon are sure to make you smile.
2. Pole Dancing Dragons
This ultra-classic 5.8 doesn’t look like much at first — a broken arete into a near-vertical face climb — but it has incredible movement. Scramble up the far side of the canyon to the obvious roof on Rocket Man — just to your right from there is the near-vertical wall with two bolt lines on it. Pole Dancing Dragons starts on the left side, where you climb the broken arete, but you have to make some balancy moves to gain the face. It’s weird to call it exposed, since the climber isn’t that high off the ground, but the moves off the deck definitely feel a bit airy as you search for the right body position to gain the face. After establishing on the face, press into the wall and enjoy the positive holds and fun movement they provide for the next sixty feet or so.
3. Unknown Trad
Nothing says “choss” like a route that doesn’t even deserve a name, but this route is the exception to the rule. Unknown Trad sits in the corner to the right of Pole Dancing Dragons and might be one of the best and most continuous crack climbs in the canyon. It starts off a little rough, forcing the climber to go up a block then skirt around some foliage, but it turns into a pitch and a half worth of great jamming. Pro tip — avoid the hanging belay and go into the knook in the right side of the wall. There’s cracks enough there to build a great three-piece anchor. Or bring two extra No. 3 BD Camalots and build one in the main crack system you used to access the ledge. The start of the second pitch goes up through a splitter hands crack roof, which gives way with very little effort. Enjoy the novelty of this climb, it’s not everyday you find a perfect hand crack on something of this grade. If you don’t have a 70-meter rope, you will need to do two rappels. Always remember to tie knots in the ends, especially if youre going all the way with a 70-meter. It’s a rope stretcher!
Lower Devil’s Canyon with friends
Some friends of mine from southern Utah came down to visit for Christmas. They are making a road trip through the southwest, hitting some of the region’s best climbing, and decided to give Oak Flat a chance.
Most importantly, it was great to be able to spend time with them, and to share an area very dear to my heart. Oak Flat, which is about 70 miles east of Phoenix, has been a formative place for me. I spent about six months in the area during the winter of 2019 and spring of 2020, including during the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. When states started to lock down I was living in a van and had to make some tough choices about where I was going to stay. I decided to make Oak Flat my home while the pandemic was unfolding across the U.S.
During that time I met some of my closest friends, and made some enduring memories. I also got to know the area pretty well, and it has become one of my favorite places to visit. One area in particular — Lower Devil’s Canyon — really captured my imagination.
It’s remote, with a rugged road to get in, and it hosts one of the most picturesque desert streams I’ve ever seen, plus a multitude of spires of volcanic tuff. It feels epic, and yet welcoming.
Lower Devil’s Canyon is known to Phoenix climbers for basically one route — Pathological Optimist on The Totem Pole. It’s a single pitch of 5.10, but plenty of people make the trek to Lower Devil’s Canyon just to do this route. It climb’s the east face of the the 100-foot free-standing tower called The Totem Pole, and tops out on a flat summit that probably isn’t more than 20 square feet — six feet across and three feet wide. My friend Bradley Hughes came to Superior, the nearest town to Oak Flat, last spring, and joined me for a day in LDC expressly to climb the Totem Pole. He was not disappointed.
My friends arrived here in the middle of our first real rain this winter. It rained solidly for almost three days, and the parched desert drank it up. When the sun came out, the air was clear and the ground dried quickly.
I met them at the Oak Flat campground on the night of Christmas Eve, then joined them for Christmas Day climbing at The Pond. I made some phone calls to family and friends while they put up Dead pool and the route to the left of it. Eventually we moved over to try the area classic Pocket Puzzle, and I got on Blisters in the Sun, which I was happy to send second go.
The next day we drove out to Lower Devil’s Canyon. It’s one of those places that I love to show off. It could qualify as a state or national monument, but it doesn’t get a lot of attention.
The five of us — Kaleigh, Adam, Italia and Tori — went into Hackberry Creek, and followed the pools down to where the climbing began. My friend Tori changed into shorts and jumped in a small pool of water — which was perhaps 50 degrees — and then popped up with a whoop.
We took our time scouting routes and enjoying the welcoming feel of the place before setting up at the base of a large pillar, where we hopped on two beautiful trad climbs in the 5.8 range.
Kaleigh meditated beside a pool, a serene look on her face, until the sun crept up the hillside behind her and she was left in the shade. I saw her move up the hill with the sun, breaking her meditation every 10 minutes or so, until she was perhaps 40 feet up from where she started. Italia found a sunny place near the base of the climbs to draw the canyon and do some writing.
I took a six or seven minute dip in the pools and watched Tori slowly climb the face of one of the giant volcanic pillars.
Some beta for this area: bring a small rack and draws even sport climbs. They usually will take a piece or two. And embrace the adventurous feel of the area. Welded cold shuts aren’t rare, and there are more than a few old bolts out here.
We ended up hiking back up to the Glitterbox area, which is one layer of rock pillars uphill from Hackberry Creek, but never mustered the energy to climb the Totem Pole. I was kind of hoping the crew would want to climb it, just for their own sake. I have probably climbed it six or seven times by now, so I wasn’t particularly motivated to get on it again. Perhaps it will give them a good reason to come back.
Instead we sprawled out on a pillar that looked into the heart of the canyon, talked about a wide range of things, and looked at the canyon through Kaleigh’s binoculars. It felt good just to show my friends this place, to have them see and appreciate a spot that I think is so special.
As we hiked out we heard a kind of growling, yelping sound, which we figured was feline. It was hard to tell how big it was, but there was definitely some kind of wild cat in the canyon. It was a perfect way to end a serene day.
Queen Creek Sport Climbing: Return from the Great Mormon Experience
Yesterday, Charlie Brown and I went out to The Pond in Queen Creek. The Pond is one of Queen Creek’s two uber-popular climbing areas, along with Atlantis. Both have some beginner-friendly routes, though Atlantis is by far the better for newcomers, while The Pond is great if you can climb 5.10.
The area is dacite, and the rock feels similar in density to Smith Rock.
Charlie has been working on Desert Devil, one of the local test pieces. He had plans to go up later in the day, but I finished guiding a trip around 11:30 a.m. at Atlantis, and was able to convince him to come up an hour early so we could get on Return From the Great Mormon Experience, a 12.b that I’d heard him talking about.
But we decided to turn it into a volume day and climb the routes to the left of it. We warmed up on The Crosses are Free, which was a fun face climb with varied movement that ascends a face with a large diagonal weakness. We both did two laps on The Crosses are Free then moved to our right and got on Youth is Beauty 10.b, which was a good quality climb. After two laps on that each it was time to get down to business.
Return from the Great Mormon Experience sits just outside of a corner, and to start it you climb into the dihedral, stem out onto the face, and start swinging up through small but deep pockets.
I had high hopes of onsighting, but blew those almost immediately when i followed some chalk that went up and right through the route then dissapeared after the second bolt. I was stranded, just where someone else had gotten stranded, and I didn’t bother trying to reverse the moves. I asked for Charlie to tension the line and I hung at the second bolt, holding my throbbing fingers. I had been perched in two very sharp pockets, and had tried to pull myself up out of them. Now the first pads of my index and middle finger on my left hand were numb.
“You gotta go left there,” Charlie said. I could see a faint trail of chalk leading up a kind of rail onto a knob that stuck out where the climb met the arete. After a rest, so i could regain feeling in my fingers, I had Charlie lower me and I tried the route again on redpoint, hoping for redemption. But the route was far more stout than I had expected. I was able to cut left out the bulge that Charlie had pointed out, and I’d rested on the corner, perched around the arete like a gargoyle for 10 minutes or so, but I’d only made it another bolt or two before I fell again.
Charlie taking a toprope lap on Return from the Great Mormon Experience.
The route has a full-on dyno (if you don’t know what that is, it’s climber slang for a dynamic movement, in which all or most of your body comes off the route before finding the next hold. Here’s a video of Chris Sharma dynoing during a deep water solo route) or at least a very extended deadpoint halfway up it. The move involves setting your left toe in a relatively high position underneath you, dangling your leg in a downward flag, and hopping up and slapping for the sloping lip of a hueco.
But the route isn’t over after that. It continues for four more bolts of pumpy but much simpler climbing before granting access to the chains.
At the time I was climbing it, I thought the name was “Escape from the Great Mormon Experience” — something that a few of my friends who grew up in Mormon culture had to do. The climb was relentless, and every time I thought it was over, there was another pumpy section. Which I thought was an apt comparison for extricating yourself from an entire childhood social circle and belief system.
We toproped it three more times each, and Charlie gave me a bunch of good advice, which allowed me to work the moves to the point where, maybe in the next session or two, I could possibly redpoint it.
It was a great example of how wonderful a teacher climbing is. On my first attempt I thought “well, probably not going to get this this season.” And by the end of my next go on toprope, I thought “maybe next session it will go down.”
Something can go from feeling absolutely impossible to feeling within reach in just an hour of work. It’s probably the most readily available lesson that climbing has to offer, and it shows it much more clearly than so many other activities.
The sunset that evening painted the cliffs a flourescent orange, and a few minutes after the light had faded, we started heading back down the trail toward the parking area. Not a bad day. We did something like nine pitches each. I got 11 on the day because of my guiding that morning.
Tucson Sport: The Aqueduct At The Colosseum
About a week ago, my friend TJ and I had plans to climb the beautiful and intimidating route Abracadaver in Cochise Stronghold. After a misadventure left me feeling a bit drained, I decided that another day of fun, low-commitment sport climbing was in order. Luckily, TJ was game.
He met me for breakfast at my winter home (the parking lot of The Bloc bouldering gym), I made us a nice little breakfast and we headed up the mountain. The Colosseum is a crag low on Mt. Lemmon. I had heard it had long, sustained routes, and the breathless report I’d heard about it was all the hype I needed to give it a look.
TJ “Bug” Aguilera looking rugged after we finished Full Circle into Whores of Babylon on Welcome Dome in Cochise, winter 2022-23.
It turned out to be a bit more committing than I’d originally hoped, just because the approach was a bit of an investment. Though it’s probably only half a mile from car to crag, the trail feels like an almost 1:1 slope. We slogged up to the crag, sweating through our shirts under a formidable winter sun, until reaching the base of the Aqueduct. The trail itself was fairly easy to find, and required no special chicanery, but it was stout.
As we donned our gear, TJ mentioned something about calling someone’s dog “bug.”
Pretty soon we were calling each other “bug” while on the route. “Try hard, bug!”
It was a fun way to take the intensity out of climbing. Nothing like cracking up while feeling like you’re going to whip because your friend is treating you like their eight-year-old son or daughter.
“Good clip, bug!”
We started on the right side of the wall with a tall 10-, then I on-sighted what felt like a super tricky 11b called Nero. It was cryptic, sequential and steep, and there was barely a smidge of chalk to guide me on the route. There were two sections that I had to make strategic retreats from and downclimb a move or two into better rests while composing myself. Honestly it felt like a more serious effort than The Wizard, and I felt pretty happy to have on-sighted it. After clipping the chains, TJ “Bug” Aguilera gave it a go. He wasn’t in form and had to rest his mandibles a few times, but he made it to the top in good spirits.
Then we tried the 12a/b, Fire on the Tiber. It was stellar! Tricky, pumpy, but positive holds flow up to ever-steepening face until topping out on holds that just don’t seem so good, even though they are probably the best on the route. My forearms were flamed as I grabbed what looked like jugs, but felt like the worst slopers I had ever had the pleasure of greasing off. I fell moving to the last bolt, with perhaps two more serious moves on the whole route.
I waited and tried it again, but I fell in the same spot. I felt sure I could get it, but wasn’t disappointed with my performance. Spectacular routes are their own reward, and the experience of climbing them was what I was after (But also I wish I had sent). We climbed another 11+ on the high left side of the wall, and I got lost on that one, too. I actually skipped a bolt while battling an awkward overhanging crack and flake section and made it to the final no-hands rest section before choosing my route poorly, and getting stuck at the last bolt. I found the right beta on the next try and pulled through to the chains but didn’t attempt the full route again.
All told, only 3 real sends that day for us (I got the 10- and the 11b, TJ got the 10-). I felt like I could have sent the 12a/b but it just slipped through my fingers. That’s showbiz, baby!
First Ascents at Apache Leap
A few days ago I got to return to one of my favorite places on earth — Superior, Arizona. This town of 2,000 has some of my favorite people and favorite climbing areas. I first came here while researching the Resolution Copper mine, and the impending destruction of Oak Flat. This is a free campground that was specifically set aside as an exclusion zone for development other than recreation, it is considered sacred to the San Carlos Apache, and it provides access to great climbing. I was freelance writing for climbing magazines at the time, and saw it as an important story to tell.
While I was there I made some of the best friends in my life, and got to do some amazing climbs.
Those friends are still developing routes on a cliff called Apache Leap presides rises over the town. The rock in this area is volcanic tuff, similar to Smith Rock but a little more friable. It naturally forms amazing towers, pillars and cliff faces, which are visible from all around town. I can actually see them now from where I sit in the Superior public library.
In the past couple of years, my friends David Gunn, Ian Gunn, Chiara Mingione, Jason Conlon, Cas Sundell and Charlie Brown have put up some amazing routes on the Leap. Most of them are multi-pitch routes, and all of them are in spectacular positions. To reach them, one can either drive to the back side of the bluff and hike to the top of the climbs via Oak Flat/Mine access, or one can walk up from the bottom.
Last season I put a few good days in helping develop the trail up to the top of the formation (plus some bolting and cleaning on a couple of routes), but they have recently started developing climbs on a large detached flake that is more easily accessed from the bottom. You can see it at the top right corner of the photo below.
Charlie Brown prepares to rappel down to one of the routes at Apache Leap during a day out in 2022/2023 winter.
I met them there after about an hours walk up from Highway 177. Dave, Charlie and a younger climber named Andy were in the process of putting up a new route in the 10+ range. They had just finished bolting two others on the same feature in the same range.
When I got there, we got down to the business of … getting up! We started by climbing the 10+ called White Hactsin. It climbed up a rough-edged chimney onto a stunning red and white face, up through some intricate and powerful moves to the top of the pillar. It’s twin route, Black Hactsin, breaks away left after the third or fourth bolt and takes a steeper line through a small roof of very clean white and red rock. Both of them turned out to be wonderful climbs. Charlie had botled them with a friend I hadn’t met, and he was saving the true FFA for that person. We both hung on the first bolt of White Hactsin to preserve the FFA. But Charlie was generous enough to let me try White Hactsin for the First Free Ascent onsight, which I did. The route was really enjoyable and had some fun exposure on beautiful, strong stone, and went around 11-.
From L: Ian and Dave Gunn on a cold and blustery outing during the 2022/2023 winter season.
As we walked down that day Charlie, who has been a fishing and raft guide for the past 25 years, told me he never imagined he would be able to get a house at the base of such an amazing, and undeveloped climbing area. It’s amazing that we get to spend time in places like this, where we are the only ones on the wall, beside the cliff swallows, lizards and crows. From the top of the Leap you can see out over Superior to Picketpost and into the Superstition mountains. It’s an incredibly soulful place to test yourself.
I once had a client from the UK tell me how much time he and his friends have spent searching for new routes to put up in England — days spent in the rain looking at dumpy little boulders with flaring, diagonal cracks in them. It made me very thankful for all the space and rock we have in America. I’m so glad to be back in the hinterlands.
Charlie Brown is stoked to share one of the amazing routes he developed. I couldn’t believe he found this amazing hueco to use as a belay station. Winter 2022-23
Tucson sport climbing in La Milagrosa
NOTE: Hello readers, this is the first blog post I’ve made for this site. Mostly it’s to develop Bighorn Mountain Guides’ SEO, but it will also have some fun anecdotes and useful beta on different climbing areas — mostly around the Western U.S.
About me: My name is Ben Ramsey, I am the owner of Bighorn Mountain Guides. The company currently operates May-Sept., giving me the winters off. This is the third year I’ve spent my winter in Arizona.
I hope you enjoy.
After some guiding and guide training in Tucson, I got out for a couple days of sport climbing.
I had a very productive day climbing with a friend in Milagrosa Canyon. This area is one of the lowest and warmest crags around Tucson and has amazing sport climbing. It’s not great for beginners, but if you can climb 5.11, it’s wonderful. Right now, Tucson is in a beautiful dry spell, and the temperature is perfect for climbing. Warm in the afternoons and brisk in the morning.
The rock in Milagrosa is extremely smooth gneiss, making the holds very defined. Tiny crimps and edges are the name of the game here, which are epitomized in the classic climb The Wizard (12a). I had tried this climb a few times in years past, but I had never done it without weighting the rope.
We got into the crag around 9:30 a.m. and went straight to Valentine Arete, which is a classic 5.9 +. It was awkward and slippery at the start. If you go to this area, I recommend a stick clip. I led all the routes that day and I started almost every climb by saying something like “OK, I’m going to see how these holds feel. We might have to bail on this route.” But once the first bolt was clipped, the climbing was fantastic. Most of the routes we climbed were of high quality and flowed well. As a bonus, we bumped into Eric Fazio-Rhicard, one of the main developers of the area and Mt. Lemmon and author of Squeezing the Lemmon, the local guidebook. He was great hang out with — very friendly and welcoming.
After Valentine, we did Stealin’ (11a) which has some tricky little moves to access a little ledge, then a paper-tiger roof above. Then we moved to our left and climbed I Been Robbed (11c). I misread this route and had to hang. It’s tough! The best beta I found was to go out right, where a steep exfoliating bulge provided some hidden pockets to get through to the final short, sheer headwall.
After that, I put up the classic 10a Community Service, which my friend enjoyed, then it was time to hop on The Wizard.
I had a little bit of anxiety as I got on the base — three years ago I’d taken a nice whipper when I blew the clip at the fifth or sixth bolt, and fallen all the way to the second. It was a techy little climb with tricky clips.
This time, I flowed through it smoothly, feeling strong on the tiny handholds and obscure footholds. As I pulled up to the chains I let out a little whoop. It felt so nice to finally cross that one off my list.
When I got down, Eric told me the route had recently been re-bolted (I think he was involved?), to make the clips easier and safer. I thanked him for the improvement to the route. It had been a joy to come back and send it!
What a great season it has been already! That was the third 12a I had done on my first attempt that season (the other two were true onsights in Dark Prophete at Prophesy Wall, and a cool little route at a secret crag in central Utah). Though I had tried The Wizard in the past, I didn’t remember much of the beta. It certainly wasn’t an onsight, but it felt like something close.
Next we climbed Welcome to Milagrosa (10b) and the bolted crack to the right of it, then finished on a harrowing ascent of Three Sheets to the Wind (11c). I don’t recommend this route, though some of the moves are awesome. It has pretty high potential for decking, and unless you are a very confident and comfortable leader at 5.11, you could easily get in too deep and mess up an ankle by falling on the ledge, or taking a sizable whipper while making the precarious transition onto the final wall.
All told, we did about eight pitches that day, which was great. It was another beautiful and rewarding day out climbing.