Utah + Red Rock Canyon

Finn and Cole’s Utah Adventure + bonus Kevin, Will, LeRoy, and Parker sightings at red rocks. 11000 vertical feet of climbing and 40 miles hiked!

Moab (Mar 29–Apr 1)

Day 1: Travel to Moab + Owl Rock (5.8)

Finn and I flew into Salt Lake City from Love Field in Dallas, gained an hour jumping into Mountain Time, grabbed the rental car, and drove through high desert terrain toward Moab. The drive alone felt like an introduction: mesas everywhere, huge sky, and that “we’re really here” feeling. Before we tied in, we learned an Arches-specific rule the hard way: the park doesn’t allow climbing with white (or colorful) chalk. We dumped our chalk bags and refilled with red chalk we bought in town. We still had daylight, so we pulled over for Owl Rock—an actual roadside climb with a 2–3 minute walk from the car. We rolled up and saw a few people already on top, but by the time we built the system they were down and out. Finn led the 5.8. The line followed what we kept calling the “butt crack” of the formation. The anchors were set just below the top, and we walked up on belay for the summit—360-degree desert views right away on day one. We rapped with a simul rappel setup and I decided (again) that the third hand is worth it. We also got a small but satisfying gear moment: Finn plugged two tricams that were absolutely bomber (pink in camming mode, brown in passive), but a pain in the ass to clean. We also noticed pitons—Finn’s first time seeing them out in the wild. We finished day one by doing the only reasonable thing after travel + sandstone: we went to get cervezas

Day 2: Wall Street (roadside cragging + limit climbing)

Finn and I spent the day at Wall Street—a roadside crag just west of Arches that feels almost unreal because there’s basically no approach. We drove right up to the walls, which meant we could try harder climbing without showing up already smoked. We started with a 5.7 sport climb on a fin/dihedral. Finn led it clean and made it look easy; then we swapped and I followed and decided I still have a lot to learn on slab. After that, we got too ambitious and “attempted to touch” a 5.11 (Astralet). We couldn’t even get off the ground. Then we committed to the real fight of the day: Another Roadside Attraction (5.10b trad). Finn led and it took about an hour. The protection was good, but the climbing forced him to place gear while holding difficult side-pulls. The rhythm became: place → take → breathe → repeat. The crux was a sketchy rock-over onto a ledge with almost nothing for the hands—high heel, teeter, pistol squat, stand up. Finn described it as “way beyond my grade” and said he “saw God.” I believed that. I tried to lead it and bailed, then we top-roped it and even on top-rope the last 10–15 feet was horrific: side-pull finger locks, no feet, nothing to stem against, just layback suffering. Midday, we moved to Grandma’s Green Suede Shoes and got hit by the desert furnace. It was 83°F and felt closer to 95°F on the rock. We thinned out the rack, took a siesta with beer + burger, and waited for shade. When it cooled off in the afternoon, I led Grandma’s successfully, then Finn led Banana Peel (5.10b sport). I got on Brown Banana and found out what manganese oxide feels like when it’s polished smooth: sketchy, sandy start, minimal hands. I stick-clipped the first bolt, then the second, and I still took once or twice around bolts 3–4. Finn considered Flakes of Wrath and passed. Finn tried Sibernetics, got to the third bolt, and then stared at a 20-foot runout with a ledge waiting to break legs. We bailed. Maybe it goes if we’re fresher and have more sandstone slab mileage, but that wasn’t the day.

Day 3: Castleton Rock (chimney route attempt)

Finn and I tried to turn Moab into a real objective: Castleton. The approach alone set the tone—about 1.25 miles with 1,400 feet of gain, boulder fields, loose gravel, and trails that felt like we were inventing our own landslides. We carried heavy packs (rack + rope + water), hit the ridge, and got a perfect desert day: overcast, light breeze, and ridiculous views in every direction. We picked the chimney route (and later agreed Kor-Ingles probably would’ve been smarter). The “chimney route” doesn’t chimney right away—the first pitch is a 130-foot crack. The bottom boulder problem shut us down. We tried the overhang/start into crack, couldn’t do it, and switched to the left-side option with ledges and jams. We cycled through attempts, and eventually we decided to French free the start just to get moving. I climbed up, took, fell, and then took a 10-foot whip. Finn tried, got a little farther, and realized we were hours in and only ~30 feet off the deck—with another 100 feet to go and another party of four waiting behind us. We lowered off and let them pass. The wind got extremely strong and it started whipping rocks into our eyes. They were stronger and moved faster, but they ran out of gear about 30 feet below the anchor and had to leapfrog pieces to finish. One of their followers brought our rope up as a tagline so we could top-rope. We top-rope soloed without a lanyard (not ideal). We tried again, fell 6 feet, hit the ground, and decided we were done for the moment. Finn top-rope soloed the full 130 feet, sustained, secure jams, but still a full-body fight. Finn extended the anchor to a lower ledge and belayed us. I tried the start again, fell badly, hit the ground, tore skin off a middle finger, and jammed a thumb, bleeding everywhere. The crack I was jamming got gushy with my blood, a feeling I don’t recommend to anyone. We also got stuck dealing with a deeply buried cam (.4) that had been wiggled further into the crack by multiple parties. We spent a stupid amount of energy inching it out lobe-by-lobe until Finn eventually recovered it on rappel. That saved us real money. Higher up, the pitch had a genuinely fun dihedral section with multiple parallel cracks—then the rock turned from sandstone to smooth calcite and everything got harder. I took a bunch, fought the final little roof for 10–15 minutes, and Finn finally drop-looped to help to get me through. We bailed after pitch 1. The rappel itself became a puzzle: 130-foot pitch, 210-foot rope. We extended one side with cordelettes + a quad sling and used a knot block with redundant backups. We stack-rapped, got down safely, and walked away with the main lesson intact: limit climbing + no rest day + big trad objective is a bad combo.

Day 4: Canyonlands + Arches (rain day)

It rained, so Finn and I did the best alternative: we turned the day into Canyonlands + Arches. We started with coffee in Moab and drove to Canyonlands (Island in the Sky). We learned how huge the park is and how different the districts are: Island in the Sky is accessible; The Maze and The Needles are more remote and basically demand 4x4. We hit the big viewpoints and hikes—Upheaval Dome, the mesa-edge scenic walk, and overlooks where we could see 60 miles of canyons. We kept noticing the geology layers: the red sandstone cap where arches and spires form, then yellow layers, green layers, and distinct white layers below. Then we drove back to Arches and realized how little we’d actually seen on day one. We walked through windows, arches, and wall sections that looked like glass. We hit Delicate Arch from the overlook (no time for the full hike). The weather escalated from damp to pouring. The wet rock glowed, visibility dropped, and on the way out we got hammered with five rainbows, including doubles. We ended the day back in town with Italian food and mezcals.

Day 5 + 6: Zion + Bryce Canyon

We were unable to climb anymore after the rain unless we traveled far enough to find somewhere to escape the weather, so we decided to check off the remaining National parks in Utah before heading to Red Rocks. Zion was unreal, but we mostly experienced it through the lens of the tourism industry. The main entrance felt like a theme park: long shuttle lines, packed trails, and an almost nonstop stream of people moving through the canyon like a conveyor belt. The town leading into Zion proper also felt overtaken by parking lots and tourist infrastructure, which made the transition from wilderness to “destination” a little jarring. Even with the crowds, the canyon delivered. Huge jawdroppingly large slabs of sandstone. If you have the chance, I would highly recommend entering Zion via the Kolob Canyons/Namaste wall entrance instead of Zion proper. It felt quieter, less commercial, and more like you’re actually arriving at a park instead of an attraction. Bryce Canyon was the opposite in the best way, a landscape that looks like someone carved it out of coral. The hoodoos absolutely lived up to the hype. I wish we had gotten to spend more time there

Red Rock Canyon (Apr 4–Apr 10)

Cat in the Hat + Dark Shadows April 4

Finn and I shifted to Red Rocks and immediately liked the stone more. It felt nicer to climb on than Moab sandstone, and the grades felt more honest. On Cat in the Hat, Finn let me lead all four linked pitches. I French-freed one section where we didn’t like the fall potential above our gear. One pitch had a crack into a roof with a traverse move that felt like a karate kick, pure fun. We stack-rapped, but we got stuck at an anchor because another party repeatedly jammed their rope. We tried a wrap-line block, got our rope stuck too, and Finn had to solo back up and yard it free. After that, we went to Dark Shadows and climbed the first two pitches (5.5 then 5.7), then hiked out at dusk.

Frogland April 6 : slabs, chimney, stuck gear, and the desert tax

Finn and I climbed Frogland (5.8-). We led the first pitch to a tree belay (5.7) on small nubs with protection that felt more spaced than we were used to. On pitch two, Finn got a .75 stuck. We decided not to burn the whole day fighting it. We let a slower party pass, and Finn traversed way out to snag abandoned nuts (booty). Finn led the third pitch, a slabby 5.8 with an exposed traverse section that had almost no holds—classic “just trust feet” Red Rocks. The highlight was the chimney into a chockstone. Finn and I led it while bleeding and feeling very aware that chimney climbing is secure and terrifying at the same time. The opening was so tight we couldn’t get a knee through, and our gear placement blocked the exact jams we wanted. We wrapped an arm around a boulder, pressed hard into the chimney, lifted our legs nearly horizontal, and walked our feet up the crack until we could flip and sit through the constriction. We topped out, found a summit cache, and descended on slabby sandstone. At sundown, Finn went back up to try to retrieve the stuck .75 (and also grabbed a dropped quickdraw). He couldn’t free the cam and bailed off with a sling + two lockers. We hiked out in the dark.

April 7th meeting up and getting our sea legs

We met up with everyone at the airport and headed out to climb. I climbed Physical Graffiti 5.6+ and Over the river and through the woods 5.9. I was particularly proud of my performance on over the river and through the woods because I managed it before Finn. The sequence was a particularly painful fingerlock for me, then some sketchy #3 placements until you finish up on Physical Therapy

More Cragging (Apr 8th):

We lead Plan F 5.10b and Ragged Edges 5.8 On Ragged Edges I managed to get Kevin’s #6 cam stuck for 30 minutes, Finn had to get it out. I whipped 13, 15, and 19 feet respectively on Plan F on the crux. On the second and third whips I lose a piece each, a nut and a tricam, and I decided that was enough for me. LeRoy managed to flash it though!

Tunnel Vision (Apr 9): the TV confusion, camera weight, and a long night

By April 9, Finn and I had been climbing for a week and a half and we were worn down. Fresh reinforcements (Kevin, Parker, Leroy, Will) had arrived and warmed up, and we split into two parties: Finn and I did Tunnel Vision with Will. We started around 9 AM behind two guys who looked like pros but moved slow. They pulled us onto the 5.9 variation start (Television), and it was far harder than expected—more like 5.9+. The beta felt bizarre: underclings, balancing in a cavity, and nothing that felt like a “nice crack.” While Finn was leading, a group of six showed up and argued about whether we were on Tunnel Vision or Television. Over walkies, “Television” and “Tunnel Vision” sound identical, and both abbreviate to “TV.” It was a communication disaster. Finn led it with one take and then fought to build an anchor where there was basically only a bolt and a far-off placement. He built it safely, but it took time. We got on TRS, fell a bunch, got too thin to talk, and finished it after ~six takes. In the process we busted a finger and bled all over the rope. We also made a dumb logistics choice: we brought three backpacks instead of two and tried to haul packs that weren’t built for hauling. They snagged on every roof. We carried a $350 action camera plus lead fishing weights (about five extra pounds of camera kit) and barely used it, twice on a full multi-pitch. On the tunnel pitch, I led into the squeeze and took the hard way out. I ignored a “10-person ledge” option (because that’s for losers), fought into the narrower line, and ran it out in places because protection was weird, sometimes in front, sometimes behind. The tunnel was dusty, my feet would slide, and I got stuck in the tightest section. I finally un-cammed myself, pulled sideways and stood up, and yelled “Victory is mine!” and immediately dropped a bunch of cams. Finn turned into a full goblin and recovered essentially everything, plus he found a red totem as bonus booty. We lost one tri-cam into a forever crack. We topped out late with Vegas lights behind us, then descended for hours in the dark. We still ended up doing a rappel, including a free-hang rappel in darkness. My headlamp died, so Finn and Will kept me in the middle between working lights. The last 1 mile of the descend back to the parking lot was one of the toughest hikes I’ve ever done. We got back around 2 AM, drank mezcal margaritas, and somehow woke up without hangovers—apparently the anti-hangover protocol is: climb all day, drink 3.5–5 liters of water, then sleep.

Jungle Wall (Apr 10) The long approach

After sleeping in until a tiring 8:45 am, I was awoken to go climbing once more. Parker, LeRoy and Kevin had already gotten up and gone to climb Olive Oil which is another 5.7ish multipitch. Meanwhile, Finn, Will, and I went to jungle wall. It turns out that jungle wall, while having the only good moderate climbs near Olive Oil, had a 2hr approach where we had to hike up over 700 feet of boulders. We stood up on a 50 foot flake for the start of our route for the day and Finn led a sketchy 15 feet up to his first piece. Parker radio’d in that he, Kevin, and LeRoy were done and were on their way to where we were, but it turns out that they had climbed on a climb two hour east of Olive Oil instead. We urged them to rethink that, and they decided to go home and go to sleep early instead. Besides that and a rusty bolt, it was smooth sailing, and I got a fun follow in while Will stayed on the ground, assuring us that he had already had enough fun. We hiked back while Will and Finn had a intense philosphical discussion and it started to pour rain. A relaxing end to a fun trip.

What we learned

• We climb best when we respect recovery—especially after limit climbing.
• Outdoor grades feel stiffer to us right now, and trad adds another full layer.
• Approach + pack weight can decide the day before the first move.
• Multi-pitch efficiency is a skill. The next time we do something like Tunnel Vision, we’ll move faster simply because we’ve already made every dumb mistake once. Also, Fix and follow is pretty great, but make sure you understand the risks.
• Walkie Talkies are very nice, and so is having a sat phone. Most of these parks have little to no reception.