Climbing in Colorado and Wyoming
I recently spent two and a half weeks in Colorado to see Alex. She had her 20 week pregnancy scan booked in for the first week, and we planned to climb the three weekends I was there. What followed turned out to be one of the nicest sequences of climbing I have had, culminating in the last climbing day of my 40s.
First weekend: Boulder Canyon
The first weekend we stayed down in Boulder. I was jetlagged and getting used to the altitude, so I was mainly ticking off easy routes to remind my body how to climb. On Saturday we warmed up at the Bowling Alley on Splitting Hares (5.10b) and Happy Ending (5.10d), both onsights, but both more than enough work for a jetlagged first day.
On Sunday I had a proper go at A Tall Cool One (5.12a), aptly named, since it is the kind of climb that really rewards cool morning temps. My flash attempt got me to the 6th bolt before my left arm completely pumped out and I had to hang. By the time I went back up for a second go, the sun was on the wall, the holds were greasy and slippery, and I popped a left foot pulling the penultimate move to the jug. Another one-hang.
I went back early on Monday morning to finish it off, but a very keen local was already top-rope-soloing it to dial the crux around bolt 5, and said she would be a couple of hours. Rather than wait, we high-tailed it back up to Fort Collins to get a day of work in.
Second weekend: Sinks Canyon, Wyoming
The second weekend we drove up to Sinks Canyon in Wyoming. We had read that there were rattlesnakes and poison ivy to worry about on the sunny Main Wall, and cougars and bears to worry about on the forested Shady Side. We were hoping that, being April, the rattlesnakes wouldn’t be out yet. The approach to the Main Wall on that first day was uneventful. At Purple Galaxy I onsighted Sweet Beguilin’ (5.11b/c), and redpointed Dog Star (5.11c) second go after getting wrong-handed in the crux on my onsight attempt. I had a go at Ain’t No Mercy (5.11b) at the end of the day as my fifth pitch and pumped out under the chains going for a long move. The altitude was still making things difficult for me.
In the hot afternoon on the walk back to the car a scream from Alex ahead of me confirmed my earlier fears. Luckily she stopped just short of stepping on a rattlesnake curled up right in the middle of the path. It was so well camouflaged that it needed to rattle to warn her of its presence.
We spent the remaining two days of the weekend on the Shady Side, where I started to come into some form. On the Saturday I flashed Hand of Doom (5.11d), a techy slab off the ground into a sequency pocket crux, then victory jugs. It worked very well for me.
On the Sunday I redpointed Sky Pup (5.12a) second go. The low crux is very foot-intensive, and on the flash go I couldn’t feel my frozen hands well enough to work through it, but with everything dialled it went cleanly.
Crystal Wall, Poudre Canyon
On the Wednesday of the following week we snuck out for a cheeky morning session so that I could revisit my favourite crag in all of Colorado: The Crystal Wall in Poudre Canyon. This place has been the site of many of my best sends in North America. While browsing Mountain Project I had spotted that a new 5.12b called Jade had been established on the far left of the North Face. I couldn’t wait to try it out as soon as possible and the weather was going to be too cold on Friday and Saturday.
Alex was almost 21 weeks pregnant but she was still willing and able to stick-clip her way up the route to put on the gear and find all the holds for me. I was hoping to achieve my highest flash grade ever. Poor tactics meant it wasn’t quite to be. I was very close to flashing it on the first go, but my fingers numbed out worse than I can ever remember. I completely lost feeling in my right hand about two moves from the end of the crux between the 3rd and 4th bolts. My fingertips remained numb for about five minutes after I got back to the ground. Nevertheless I knew what to do, and fired it off quite easily second go.
Final weekend: Shelf Road
The next Sunday and Monday we drove down to Shelf Road. This was a crag that I had enjoyed visiting for the first time in October 2025, despite being frustrated by a number of near misses. So I was keen for another crack at it. This time we linked up with Jack (a colleague of my wife, who has climbed multiple 5.13a routes) and his climbing partner John.
We arrived just as they were packing up their warm-up on The Mural Wall, so we climbed it after them and followed them around in that manner for the whole morning. We watched Jack send The Mural (hard 5.12b) on his second go. It is a beautiful route on a beautiful wall, and it was a pleasure to watch him deftly move through the balancy, sequency mono-to-mono crux near the top. I had a very good flash burn on another 4-star route, Motif (5.12a), a couple of routes to the right. Unfortunately I took a foot too far left in the second crux and missed a crucial right pocket. I think it would have gone second go, but the sun arrived on the wall before I could get back on it.
We walked across to the Far Side of the Gallery at lunchtime, and Jack had a go on a classic 5.12a that I had eyed up the previous year called Thick As Thieves (FA’ed in 1988). It was the afternoon of his second day and his skin was wrecked, so he couldn’t fathom how to get past the intimidatingly thin crux moves directly off the ground. I assumed the rest of the route must be easy, since the start was so hard, but he wasn’t so certain. We couldn’t see many holds on the head wall. He opted to leave it, and he and John moved around the corner to some cool down 5.11c climbs.
I couldn’t shake the idea that I had a chance to flash Thick As Thieves. I stood underneath it contemplating for a long time. Somehow the fact that Jack had been shut down made me think there was no pressure. Yet I hesitated. Alex could sense I was prevaricating and offered to stick-clip it and find the holds. My fingers felt good and I was happy with how I had been climbing the last few sessions, so I agreed. Thirty minutes later, with a nicely ticked-up route, I somehow managed to control the sharp and tiny crimps in the lower crux sufficiently to get to the pockets, and then held my nerve through the upper section that I had only seen at a distance. My beta was very different from Alex’s, but there is no way I would have got up it without her amazing support. We packed up and went round the corner to report my success to the other two. They scarcely believed it :) To be fair, I felt the same way. I was elated.
Last day of my 40s: Blank Frank
The final day, after Jack and John had left, Alex and I went to the Dark Side wall to revisit a 5.12b slab called Blank Frank that I had failed on twice the previous October. Again Alex stick-clipped up the route to put the gear on and find all the holds. What a hero!
It was the 20th of April. Even though I was 50 years old measured in elapsed hours, because I was born in NZ my birth date was still the next day. In this ambiguous condition I decided to count this as the last climbing session of my 40s.
The previous October I had fallen between the 5th and 6th bolts both times. On my first go of the day I managed to clip the 6th bolt from the ground, but then climbed too high to the right and couldn’t get across to the jugs on the left. After hanging, I climbed up to the break at the 7th bolt. From there to the 8th bolt is a difficult boulder problem on tiny feet with bad hands. For me it is the hardest climbing on the whole route, and it comes just before the anchor. Somehow I finally found a sequence that worked: a tiny right foot hold next to the 7th bolt, a right hand crimp-pinch, a slopey left hand pocket, left foot up to a small pocket my toe could just get into, right hand up to an awkward side-pull/side-press, right foot up to a shark-tooth foothold, left foot onto a very small edge on the corner of the arete, and then finally left hand to the 8th bolt clipping jug.
With the beta locked in I went to the ground and rested for an hour. The day was getting much hotter and the next go would be my last. Somehow it all came together. Alex confessed afterwards that she didn’t expect me to do it.
It was the fourth climbing day in a row that I had sent a 5.12, and this was the best such sequence I have ever had. Quite a nice way to round out my 40s.
We drove all the way back up to Boulder and celebrated with a fancy dinner at a French restaurant. We were both very, very tired, but also very happy. The next day we finally rested in Boulder with a nice breakfast and a little hike along the Flatirons. What a trip!
