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.