South Dakota Part II: A Climbing Perspective

So, as promised, here is South Dakota Part II, a recap of our climbing experience at the Needles of Rushmore (not to be confused with the Needles in Custer State Park, which is a half hour from Rushmore). I’ll start the recap by noting that Marco absolutely loved the area and I…well, I had a range of feelings about the area. At first I was in awe of the rock, then, once we started climbing it, I was skeptical, then petrified, then I cried, then I recovered, then I was frustrated, then we summited (!!), and, in the end, I feel extremely grateful to have experienced the climbing at Rushmore and definitely have a fuller appreciation for rock climbing in its purest, most adventurous form.

The Needles at Rushmore is a CRAZY area. There is so much rock everywhere and there are so many wild formations that I couldn’t wrap my head around. We’re not just talking wall climbing here (though they have walls); rather, there are fins, spires, needles, arêtes, domes and escarpments galore. So many shapes, so many sizes, and such foreign climbing to me. Here are some pictures of the area in general (though, it’s hard to get a full appreciation for what it’s like just from pictures).

Note the climbers on the little ledge...next shot is a close-up of them!

We set out for our first day of climbing with big smiles and lots of excitement! We decided to check out South Seas, an area right next to Wrinkled Rock, the free campground at which we were staying. It was a super easy approach. After checking the guidebook, it seemed that most of the routes that had a lot of stars were sport routes rather than trad. We had expected to do mostly trad climbing in the area, so we brought both racks just in case. We started off on an easy trad climb and then moved on to what was supposed to be an easy mixed route.

This is Marco making his way up our second route, Solitaire, a four-star 5.7.

Note, the summit was actually on the rock next to the rock you actually climb…this aspect of the route is key to my dislike of it.

Thinking it was going to be a cruiser warm-up, I was excited to lead it. It looked like fun when Marco got on it. Well, half way up the chimney-style start of the route, I came to the realization that a 5.7 sport climb at the Needles is NOT comparable to a 5.7 at the New or the Red—not at all! It was a 100 foot climb and had five bolts. You do the math, that’s 20 feet between each bolt. Marco led it first and placed one piece of gear. So fine, six points of protection—still not enough for me on a 100 foot climb. I guess now is a good time to describe the type of rock at Rushmore—it’s a granite conglomeration filled with tiny crystals. Just about every climb we did entailed pulling on and/or bearing down on iddy-biddy crystals that we trusted about as much as we trusted the crazy hitchhiker who camped next to us as Wrinkled Rock. Prior to my ascent, Marco illustrated how untrustworthy many of the little crystals were by bearing his weight down on one and showing how it crumbled away and popped off the wall—wouldn’t want that to happen mid-climb when it’s your only good foot! Accordingly, as I was making my way up the chimney the climb got totally in my head. I thought every hand and foot hold was going to blow and I was going to ping-pong ball down the chimney to my last bolt. As I ascended, I got more and more creeped out, until I finally made it to the summit of the first spire (remember, the anchors are on the summit of the adjoining rock, so I still wasn’t at the top). That’s when I straddled the rock with my legs, bear hugged it with my arms (I wish Marco had taken a picture, though I probably would have killed him at the time!)…and started crying. I don’t know what it was, but I was NOT having any bit of that climb. And I still had to hop on over to the adjoining rock to summit and reach the anchors. And Marco already told me that the crux was climbing the final bulge of rock on the second summit to the anchors. Awesome. Well, I sucked it up, calmed down and finished the climb. But remember, in rock climbing it’s not over until you’re back on the ground. Getting to the top is just 50% of the work (at least in the Needles it is). I had to clean the gear…which was incredibly difficult because I was being lowered on the far side of the adjoining spire; not the rock that my gear was on. After some creative “cleaning,” I ended up with rope burn on my ankle, a couple cuts on my hand and only half the route clean. And, it should be noted, Marco had offered to clean the entire route for me (he really is very caring and patient with me when it comes to climbing), but, being the stubborn and determined redhead that I am, I wanted to clean what I had climbed. Fortunately, that streak of stubbornness vanished halfway through the descent and I took Marco up on his offer to clean the rest of it.

All in all, tears were shed and I realized I was totally unprepared for the type of climbing we were about to get ourselves into. After Solitaire, I realized I had two options: (1) I could call it quits and never climb again (literally, that is the feeling that I had after that route…it got me like no route or boulder problem ever has), or (2) I could suck it up, keep on climbing, and take away as much from the experience as possible (tears included). Fortunately, after many handfuls of trail mix, I opted to go with the second option. We hopped on four other routes that day and I slowly started to warm up to the style of climbing. Though I will admit, even when climbing the routes on top rope (as if I was going to lead anything else that day!), I could not calm my nerves. The area was completely in my head. I felt very exposed on the climbs.

On the other hand, Marco was totally and fully in his element. He onsighted a pretty rad 5.11 (Dykes Next Door at the South Seas area). He LOVES the head game. It drives him to climb. It draws extreme focus and concentration from him; whereas, with me, it draws panic and anxiety. It’s fascinating to reflect on what aspect of climbing truly drives you, motivates you and brings out the best of your abilities. Personally, I love the physical aspect of climbing. Maybe it’s because the majority of my climbing experience has been bouldering (and in a gym at that), but becoming stronger and working physically demanding problems drives me. I also think it has to do with being a female—I was always in good shape, but I never had much upper body strength and I could never do pull-ups. Once I started climbing, I had the itch to get stronger. I find climbing to be an extremely empowering sport as a female. Now that I’m experiencing many new sport climbing areas (stay tuned for an awesome recap of Ten Sleep Canyon!), what drives me is fun, pumpy, slightly overhung routes—keyword=fun! I love to follow Marco and clean hard 5.11s and get really worked. That drives me; feeling pumped and completely exhausted at the end of a route, but being able to make it up and feel great about the route.

Jumping to the opposite end of the spectrum, Marco is driven by the head game. He likes the challenge of having to really focus and figure out the efficient and static way to do a route. He thrives on super technical routes that force him to climb slow and steady—routes that don’t allow the climber to dynamically throw for the next move. He loves to scout out the tiny foot hold or hand hold that will unlock the rest of the way up the route. His goal is to make every route look like an easy 5.5. And that is exactly why Marco loves the Needles. It is super technical and demands extreme precision. You have to climb precise and your mental game has to be top notch. Which is the exact reason why I did not fall in love with the Needles at first. I wanted “fun” routes and there was nothing fun about jumping on a super technical 5.11 that requires strength, extreme precision and total control of your mind. I was used to New River 5.11s, which were difficult due to the sustained pump and stamina required to complete them. With respect to the routes I climbed at New River, the holds are generally friendly and all there, but it is the endurance that makes them 5.11. I found the difficulty lay in having the juice to complete a route and learning when, where and how best to rest. In the Needles, the difficulty of a route lies in unlocking the precise and hard to detect beta of the route; it lies in having complete control over your mind and trusting yourself. There is no room for fear in the Needles.

And that was what I learned at the Needles—I need to focus on strengthening my mental game the same way I have focused on becoming physically stronger. Marco has always (and still does) say that every new climbing area teaches him something different about climbing. I’m starting to appreciate and find the truth in his philosophy.

In addition to drawing my attention to my lack of a mental game, the Needles introduced me to a more pure form of climbing—adventure climbing. On our second day of climbing, we decided to check out Chessman in the Horsethief Lake area. The guidebook (“The Needles of Rushmore” by Andrew Busse and Andrew Burr) describes Chessman as “a very majestic and historical area” where “the routes are nearly all traditional and were established in an ethically proud manner”—exactly what we were looking for. Moreover, the book stated that many of the established routes outside of a 15 minute radius of the lake “have yet to see a second ascent.” We scoped out some stellar climbs in the book, one in particular, Breaking Wave, a four-star 5.6, that looked to contain 210 feet of phenomenal, enjoyable climbing. What better way for me to come back from a not-so-great first day of climbing! We packed two ropes (both necessary for the rappel according to the guidebook) and both our sport and trad rack (just in case we came across any sport climbs worth getting on). The approach was estimated at 25-55 minutes, depending which formation you were seeking. The directions for the approach seemed a bit vague, but once we arrived at the parking area, the initial path was clearly marked, so our hopes were lifted! Two and a half hours later, after hiking endlessly through the woods, bushwhacking up a few steep hills, and wandering aimlessly while looking for a “faint climbers’ trail that heads SW up the hill,” we threw in the towel and decided to call it quits for the day. We didn’t touch any rock. We didn’t even come within twenty feet of any rock. We saw rock from a distance, but every time we tried to approach it, we got shut down. I am fairly certain that “faint climbers’ trail” is the guidebook’s way of saying, “If you’re not a local, you’re not finding the climb! Haha suckers!” We spent the rest of the day sightseeing…Crazy Horse and Mount Rushmore!

Marco, after a 2 ½ hour hike with all of our gear, and the rock, taunting us.

I should also note that when we bought the guidebook at the climbing shop in town, the cashier giggled and said “Have fun. Don’t get lost!” Chessman was our first (and not last) lesson in just how hard it is to navigate the Needles and just how easy it is to get lost! Our experience in Chessman illustrates why I regard the Needles as a “pure” form of climbing. I regard it as such because it brings to mind what climbing must have been like before well developed areas, easily navigable approaches and nicely bolted routes existed. I imagine (though I don’t know) that the thrill of the climbing experience came not only from the climb itself, but from the strenuous approach and the hunt for rock. The climb itself was the reward for putting in serious effort to bushwhack through the forest to find new rock waiting to be climbed. For me, climbing at the Needles provided a glimpse into what it must be like to experience climbing in the most traditional and purest sense of the sport. And it brought to mind our good climbing friend, Dirk (I hope you’re reading this!). Marco’s most adventurous climbing stories involve Dirk and usually entail something crazy like wading through rivers at 10:00PM or climbing sketchy routes in the pouring rain only to have rock break in your face. Even though there’s always the risk of serious injury, climbing has become much more “comfortable” as the sport has developed. Approaches are on well defined trails, routes are bolted every five feet (ahem, Ten Sleep!), and popular climbing destinations have become pretty cushy. It’s easy to be a climber and never experience the discomfort and/or serious effort that the early pioneers of climbing (and current climbers who seek out and develop new areas) experienced. Dirk, I definitely have a much greater appreciation and understanding of what drives you to climb!

And now, for the culmination of our climbing experience at the Needles…we summitted Old Baldy Mountain!

Old Baldy Mountain from a distance. The route we climbed was a face climb just left of the crack on the left side of the formation.

We climbed Rogaine With Minoxidil, a 5.8 sport route (though totally runout in certain sections), to get to the summit. It was two pitches, but it was two very long pitches! The first pitch was 100 feet and the second was 130 feet; so, all in all, 230 feet of comfortable, enjoyable climbing. We had noticed the rock on a Saturday, during our last day of climbing, and asked some locals next to us what it was called. We had planned to leave the area the following morning and head to Devil’s Tower. However, after looking at the guidebook and examining the rock from a distance, we decided we were too tempted to do the climb. So we stayed an extra day and it was completely worth it! We got semi-lost during the hike in. What was supposed to be a 20-30 minute approach turned into an hour. No big deal—we were super psyched to do the climb! The climb itself was beautiful. It was very relaxed and very friendly. When we reached the summit, Marco searched around for the registry and finally found it wedged between some rocks! The thrill of it all was somewhat dampened when we discovered the registry was signed by a bunch of immature, bone-head hikers who hiked up the back of the mountain and wrote ridiculous things in the registry. Oh well. We signed it anyways! And, as I mentioned before, the approach/ascent is only 50% of climbing. We had a bit of adventure on our rap down. We had to use two ropes, since the second pitch was 130 feet. We simul-rapped to the first set of anchors, and, as we were pulling the rope, the knot in the ropes got stuck on rock. Fortunately, we still had both ends of the rope and we knew it was threw the anchors at the top, so Marco ascended up the ropes and loosened the knot from the rock. Though it cost us some extra time, I liked that we hit a snag in the descent and were able to quickly figure out how to recover. And, in typical Needles style, we got completely lost on our hike back to the car. I guess you could say we took the scenic route—we went through some fields, saw some new parts of the forest, and explored loads of new “faint” climbers’ trails. I think it took us an hour and a half to get back to the car. Marco had two ticks and I had one on my pack. But again, no big deal. It was such a great day and such a great climb. I truly appreciated the entire package and FINALLY was able to grasp the intrigue and draw of adventure climbing. It was a perfect way to end our time in the Needles. And now for some pictures of our climb to the summit!

Marco gearing up for the climb.

At the summit!

Panoramic view from the top!

We found the registry!

And that’s me after a long, long hike out, pointing to where we were!

Finally, I’ll finish with some other highlights/pictures from our climbing experience in the Needles.  

When browsing through the guidebook one evening, I picked out a four-star, super-duper technical 5.10 route that, based on the description in the book, I thought Marco would love. The route is Static Cling in the Chopping Block area. We stopped by the following day and, after much effort, Marco had to bail a couple bolts short of the anchors. This is a shot of him with his maimed quickdraw…he had to leave a bailing ‘bineer. Sad!

But worry not! We went back to Static Cling the following afternoon and our carabineer was still there! Redemption! After some serious effort, Marco got the crux and reached the anchors. Quickdraw no longer maimed!

One of our favorite routes, Gossamer, a four-star 5.7 at the Magna Carta area. It was such a crazy formation! The route starts on a ledge on the far right side and goes up the arête on the right.

I opted not to lead it, given my then-existing fear of the rocks in the Needles. Bad decision. The fall while cleaning would have been worse than the fall on lead, because all the bolts were markedly to the left, so I for sure would have done some sweet cheese grating as I swung leftward along the rock face.

Marco scrambled up the chimney in the back of the rock to peak out the hole in Gossamer!

The descent!

I’m falling a bit behind on the blog entries, so hopefully I’ll have time to post more soon and catch you up on our whereabouts. We’ve made it all the way to Wyoming! We miss everyone tons! And, just as an FYI, we haven’t really had consistent cell phone service since somewhere in West Virginia. Apparently we’re choosing to visit and stay at the most remote and unserviceable areas in the country! Sorry for any delays in responding to voicemails, emails or text messages. We still love and miss you all!