Climbing at a busy outdoor climbing area: thoughts on crag etiquette after our trip to the Red River Gorge
Climbing has become a very popular sport. If you think ASCEND is busy on Tuesday and Thursday nights, just go outside on a cool October day, maybe a Saturday, to any popular outdoor climbing area— they are chock-full of climbers, their gear, their kids, and their animals. And everyone has their own idea of what the best behavior is to exhibit.
In October, my partner and I spent seven days at the Red River Gorge. We climbed five of the days and only one of them was on a weekend. I wonder if the Red is the busiest place to climb in America? The two crags where we chose to focus our sending efforts over the week seemed to be the same two where 50% of everyone else at the Red wanted to be. These two areas were swarmed, especially on the weekdays.
The areas where we wanted to climb had a little bit of everything, especially good warm ups (5.10s, not 5.11s for this old lady, please) and some of the best known, classic 5.11s and 5.12s. Everyone wanted to do the warm ups on the wall at least, if not the classic other things. Some people came, did the warm ups, and moved on to their hard-ass proj at some other crag across the way. Some people settled in.
Because we were climbing in areas that were so popular, we had to figure out how to be there without being put off by the large numbers of people. Normally, we steer clear of crowds and find the quieter places to climb. But this trip, we had a plan of what routes we wanted to try and decided to play well with others.
There seem to be two big things you need to be prepared for when climbing at busy climbing areas: the presence of a lot of dogs, and, especially if you are route climbing, establishing your place in line.
Dogs at the crag is a complicated issue. Where there are climbers, there are dogs. As the number of people has multiplied at the crags, so has the number of dogs. What is the best way for dogs and people and dogs and other dogs to be together? At the Red, this was actually a hot topic— I heard more than a few conversations about dogs.
In some areas of the Red, there is a leash rule, meaning that the owners of the land made it a condition that if people want to keep climbing there, dogs need to be leashed. Seems like an important rule to follow if we want all the areas at the Red to remain open.
But also, regardless of official rules, when you have so many people as well as so many dogs out and about, it makes sense that the dogs should be leashed. Or maybe, just leave them at home.
The dog owners I heard talking about this agreed that if there is a leash rule, everyone with dogs should follow it. And, even if there isn’t a leash rule but someone asks you to leash your dog, you should leash your dog. I heard stories about folks who refused to leash their dog even when asked, and these folks were not well-thought-of.
In my experience, the majority of people who bring their dogs to climbing areas have great dogs. There were more well-behaved dogs than not the week we were at the Red. But there isn’t a stated standard for dog behavior. Is barking okay? Growling? What if they are just energetic and super happy and like prancing accidentally on people’s climbing stuff? Is it okay to have to shoo a dog more than once because it won’t stop nosing through people’s bags for food? What if a dog is known for fighting with other dogs? It only takes one “bad” dog or owner to ruin it for everyone.
Also, some people love dogs, but some people don’t. And, for a few others the feeling is more akin to terror than mere dislike.
When he was little, one of our sons was terrified of dogs, so when we went climbing, Brian and I were as vigilant as possible about whether dogs were already in the areas we wanted to go to, and when dogs were coming into any area where we already were. One day at Gun Wall at Summersville Lake near the New River Gorge in West Virginia, three off-leash dogs came running in without their people, and before Brian and I knew what was happening, one of them made a bee-line, fast, to my young son, who was frozen in fear, and swiped the sandwich out of his hand with its teeth. There was no physical injury, thankfully, but there was some mental and emotional trauma for the boy. So when the dog’s people did eventually show up, we had to ask them to leash their dog, with a, “Sorry, my son is super afraid of dogs.”
Communication is hard and sometimes seems to make everyone feel uncomfortable, but it is key.
Which brings me to the second topic: establishing your place in line.
I think it’s fair to say that most of us climbers go outside in order to partake of nature, to relax and get away from the busyness of life. We escape the city in order to be around less people and to be quiet. That is still possible, but it’s not always a given.
If you want to climb a four-star 5.11 or 5.12 at the Red, sometimes you will have to throw your rope into a rotation. If you really don’t want to talk to anybody, you could try to wait it out until the end of the day and hope all the people in line on your project get tired and leave, but there are days at the Red when that won’t work.
Brian and I climbed at the Solar Collector area more than one day because there was a climb we both wanted to do. Both days it was busy there, and we needed to get in line to do the warm up. Even though our stuff was near the bottom of said warm up, since we neglected to talk to the people who were on it, we did not establish our place in line. So, another person, who knew better, brought their rope over and asked the people on it if they could go next. We got bumped. It was annoying, but you have to play by the unspoken rules of the crag. We didn’t know any better then but quickly learned. So when the second couple started climbing the warm up, I made eye contact with one of them, smiled and said, “I’m after you,” and it all worked out. We got our warm-up in and went on our merry way.
Another day, another crag, another climb, it took a group effort for everyone who wanted a turn to get a turn. The first person to go up the route put the draws up, and so he had “dibs”— climbing routes is first-come-first-served. But he was going to rest awhile before he tried it a second time, and the rest of us figured out a good line up. Everyone who wanted to, got their turn to climb. This also gave us reason to keep talking to each other when we weren’t climbing.
In these situations, I realized that most people are pretty cool, and it’s fun to have a few temporary friends who cheer you on, or give you running beta if you want it, when it’s your turn on the route.
Besides making new friends, a perk of other people wanting to do the same route is that often, someone else has already put up the draws on it. If you're intimidated leading a hard route for the first time, it’s nice when the draws are already there because your level of commitment is lowered a notch. You don’t have to worry about getting to the anchors in order to retrieve your draws; so, if you get to a spot in a route that you’re too scared to climb past, you can just come down.
Sometimes the first time I try a difficult route, I’m just not ready to push past all the fear, so I like it if I don’t feel pressure to climb to the top. On the flip side, it’s pretty cool, once you are feeling strong and unafraid, to be the one to put the draws up— and then you get “dibs.”
There was only one situation during our week at the Red when we encountered people who made it difficult for us to get a climb in. One morning we arrived at Drive By crag and the easier climbs were already busy with climbers. We made for the 5.10 we wanted to warm up on. There was a young woman climbing it who was near the top. I asked her partner if we could get in line after them, and he said, “Sure.” I started to get my gear out and do my old lady warm-up. Arm circles, commence!
The woman finished the climb and was coming down, taking the draws off as she went. I put on my harness and began to determine how many draws I’d need to take in anticipation of climbing soon. Then she asked her belayer to stop lowering her near the bottom so she could practice hand jamming in a crack. For a few minutes she hung there, getting tips from her belayer on how to hand jam. Then a few minutes became ten. They got other people involved in the conversation on how to crack climb. My old lady warm-up was done, and I was pacing in order to keep warm— it was a chilly morning. Brian was visibly frustrated so he walked away.
Finally the climber came down, and I thought that the couple would remember that I was waiting and pull their rope so I could take my turn— there was an agreement after all. I had established my place in line. I had communicated. Once she was on the ground, however, the hand jamming practice continued, and I was definitely getting cold. After some more time, I approached the couple and said, “Hey, do you think I could climb soon? I’m getting cold.”
As soon as I said something, the crack climbing lesson ended and they gathered up their stuff and moved out of the way, thankfully. I don’t think they were being malicious at all. I just think they were clueless and in their own world. Perhaps I should have said something sooner, but part of me wanted to give them a few minutes to finish and a chance to remember me on their own.
All this to say, if you are climbing in an area known to get busy, or if you just open your eyes and look around and see that people are waiting, have even asked to climb, you should do your best to take your turn and then move aside. Don’t linger. Don’t monopolize.
But mainly, when climbing at busy areas, be willing to engage people in conversation if issues come up, even if it’s uncomfortable. Talking through things is better than not talking at all. Being vocal about your needs, whether about dogs or about climbing, is helpful, although it isn’t always a guarantee that you get what you want. Direct, open, and polite communication can be difficult and nerve wracking, but it is dignifying for all people (and dogs!) involved.
