Rainbow Wall, Original Route

By: Mark Anderson | Climbers: Mark Anderson, Michael Anderson |Trip Dates: April 6, 2002

Photo: Gary Clark

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It seems like every year or so I decide to completely re-direct the focus of my climbing. At one point I will decide that I want to be good at extreme alpine climbing, the next year its sport climbing, then bouldering, etc. And every so often, I'm sure I don't have any desire to be good at a certain type of climbing, but I will train for it anyway, since my summer adventure plans require such training. This was precisely the case last winter, since I was planning to climb Denali. My nights and weekends were spent hiking up steep trails with gallon jugs of water in my backpack. I must have summited South Sandia Peak 20 times during March, April and May.

My plans for this summer were largely a result of the intense boredom experienced during the previous years' training. My brother Mike and I decided on an objective that would require no cardio-vascular endurance and much sunny rock climbing. I'm not going to tell you what that objective was (is), but suffice to say our training regimen was one of long multi-pitch trad routes. I have always been keen on trad climbing, but until this year, had not pushed my trad free-climbing standards much above 5.10. The focus for this season would be learning to climb difficult cracks, and becoming competent at climbing them in a multi-pitch setting.

Our trip to Red Rocks was primarily motivated by social reasons. Our mutual friend Grace Anne had recently retired from her career as a full time climbing bum, and taken up federal employment by the National Parking Lot Service in Kings Canyon. The long Sierra winter had left Grace longing for the warm sport crags of Southern Nevada. Since this was likely to be the only time that year Grace would be within driving distance, Mike and I agreed to meet her and her friends for a weekend of sandstone sport climbing. Besides, where better to find long, hard multi-pitch trad routes?

Naturally, once we had chosen our weekend climbing destination, the search for climbing objectives began. We had plans to attempt 'Astroman' later that spring, so I suggested the 'Cloud Tower' route, reputedly "the Astroman of Red Rocks." We also had our eyes set on 'Astrodog' in the Black Canyon, and 'Monkeyfinger' (the Astroman of Zion), and I thought it would be fun to become a connoisseur of North American Astromans. I also wanted to climb Levitation 29, considered by many to be the best route at Red Rocks, and checking in at 5.11c, a good challenge.

Upon consulting with Mike, he assured me that neither Cloud Tower (5.lld/12a) nor Levitation 29 would provide sufficient challenge, as all grades at Red Rocks are soft. I must admit, my trad experience at Red Rocks was limited to 'Cat in the Hat', however I felt the grade was pretty solid at 5.6. I would defer to Mike's judgment and go for the free version of the Rainbow Wall (5.12b). Besides, if it's only twice as hard as Cat in the Hat, it should be a cruise!

The Rainbow Wall (aka the Original Route, or Rainbow Route) ascends the plumb line of, well, the Rainbow Wall, which is more or less the Northeast Face of Rainbow Mountain. The wall is perhaps the most continuous sheer cliff in Red Rocks, and with 13 pitches, including four 5.12 pitches and three 5.11 pitches, the free version of the Original Route is certainly one of the more difficult long free routes in the country outside of Yosemite Valley. The route ascends a giant open book that divides the face into two nearly equal halves. The first six pitches ascend the open book, followed by two easy pitches to the large and scenic Over-the-Rainbow Ledge. One more easy pitch gains the beautiful Red Dihedral, which delivers three 5.12 pitches in a row, followed by one more moderate pitch to the summit.

Frankly, I thought Mike was nuts. However, I was no stranger to ascenders, and was more or less willing to follow Mike up anything, so long as I didn't have to lead any of the 5.12 pitches.

Amidst a land of miserable approaches, the Rainbow Wall approach has a reputation as being particularly unpleasant. Despite this notoriety, I found the approach to be quite simple and straightforward. It's rather long, and gains a bit of altitude, but it is almost entirely on a nice climber's trail. It took Mike and me roughly 90 minutes to gain the base of the wall, not the 3 hours suggested by the guidebook.

We roped up around 9am, as the early morning sun was just leaving the face. Mike led the first pitch, about 210 feet of low end 5th class that brought him to the base of the first pitch. Apparently our early-season route finding skills left something to be desired. I simul-climbed the first section and soon joined Mike at the proper rope up spot. The route was entirely ours, and Mike headed up the real first pitch.

This 5.6 pitch ended at a bolted chain anchor on a perfect though small ledge. The pitch above appeared nearly impossible, with a 20 foot black varnish dihedral that was completely devoid of holds. This was the first 5.12 pitch, and was given 12 a or b depending on the source. Mike on-sighted this pitch by employing classic Red Rocks levitation, extreme balance, and wild stemming. When I reached the corner on top-rope I was completely mystified. Despite Mike's tutorial I was completely incapable of making any progress at the crux, and yarded on the quickdraw past the miniscule pin scars to the next positive edge out left.

This pitch sported several bolts, which were added after the original 1973 aid ascent. Larry Hamilton has an excellent web site that describes this ascent, which was a groundbreaking Red Rocks ascent at the time. The bolts on this pitch (along with rather numerous bolts higher up) raised an interesting question in my mind. Aid climbers detest the thought of adding bolts to an already established aid route, yet here was a route with several retro-bolts, some of which were chopped and replaced and chopped, etc. I am no aid climber myself, but I sympathize with their intent to keep a route as close as possible to its "natural state." However, the Rainbow Route is clearly better off with these bolts. The Reds Rocks sandstone is extremely fragile, and the thought of hammering pins in this rock gives me a chill. One or two careless parties haphazardly wielding hammers could easily destroy this route. The bolts may decrease the aid difficulty slightly, but they protect the rock from damage that would severely reduce the beauty and integrity of the route. After climbing this route I am absolutely convinced that bolts should be used in certain situations (such as soft sandstone) to protect the rock from hardened steel. I have adopted the firm opinion that once an aid route has been free-climbed, all care should be taken to avoid any nailing that will reduce the difficulty of the free climbing. Of course this route would not have been freed in the first place (at its current difficulty level) with out the numerous pin scars which form key holds in all of the crux sections. Anyway, if you're an aid climber, DON'T BRING A HAMMER! You don't need one anyway, though some cam hooks would be useful.

The next pitch contained some devious 5.11+ face climbing that varied slightly to the right of the original line. Mike actually fell on this pitch, trying to stay in the crack. Once Mike located the proper free variation he cruised to the anchors. I hung once on the crux section of this pitch as well.

The fourth pitch was also given 5.11+, but it felt quite a bit easier. Mike on-sighted it, and I followed cleanly as well. At this point I took over the lead. The fifth pitch was rated 5.11b, and involved a small undercling roof that looked really cool. I was a little anxious since I hadn't been climbing so well that day, and was waffling about my decision to lead. Mike gave me a quick pep talk about what he likes to call, "robustness." A robust climber is one who fails miserably on a pitch (that's me!) but has the tenacity and determination to head up the next pitch in confidence (I need to work on that part). The non-robust climber flails on a pitch and retreats, or heads up the next pitch with shaking legs, placing gear every three feet, ultimately failing as a result of over-caution.

With newfound motivation I headed upwards. The section below the roof was very straightforward and protected well. The roof itself was about one body length wide, with good fingerlocks beneath it. I placed one piece in the roof from a good stance before heading out under. At the lip of the roof I tried in vain to place another piece (the wrong size), spewed an utterly hilarious comment that eludes me now (if only you were there! It was a humdinger!), then decided to gun for the chains ten feet higher. At the belay Mike commented that he knew I was feeling solid since I was joking around at the crux. I agreed that I was feeling much more solid, though honestly the pitch seemed quite a bit easier than other 5.11b trad pitches I'd climbed.

The next pitch (#6) was given 5.10 on the topo and 5.11 in the text. Naturally I referred to the pitch as 5.10 prior to climbing it, and 5.11 after climbing it. If anyone I know climbs it free, I will probably call it 5.9 and casually relate stories of leading it with one hand, blindfolded, sans rope. This pitch definitely seemed easier than the earlier 5.11 pitches, and is probably 5.10. Above, the climbing eases considerably. Mike and I ran the two pitches to Over-the-Rainbow Ledge together with some simul-climbing. This is not recommended. Despite placing only 3 pieces of gear over the 250 foot pitch, the rope drag was horrendous. The climbing was surprisingly interesting; mostly easy scrambling with a few short sections of jamming and chimneying. The final 20 feet to the Ledge involve very exposed but very easy face climbing on questionable rock.

The Ledge is everything it is made out to be: enormous, with amazing views of Red Rocks and Las Vegas, and a nice big pine tree to keep you company.

We rested briefly on the ledge and relieved our bladders as I employed the Jedi Mind Trick to convince Mike to finish the route via the much easier Swainbow Wall variation (5.10). My telepathic demands were ignored, and I lead out on easy terrain (5.7) to the base of the Red Dihedral. For those who have seen the Falcon Red Rocks Climbing Guide by Todd Swain, the Red Dihedral is the beautiful left facing corner pictured on the cover. The climber is beginning the second of 3 pitches that lead up this amazing feature toward the summit. The Red Dihedral is another place where bolts have been judiciously installed to protect the rock from further piton damage. PLEASE DO NOT HAMMER ON THIS FEATURE. The entire dihedral can be aided cleanly at C2.

The first pitch in the dihedral is given 5.12-. Mike led this on-sight with little apparent difficulty. The climbing was a combination of strenuous liebacking in extremely small pin scars and balancy stemming and footwork. I hung once on the top rope to work out the crux move, but was quite thrilled with myself to ultimately free every move on the pitch. I definitely felt I was getting stronger (and more robust) as the day progressed.

The second pitch in the Dihedral was given 5.12b, and looked to be more of the same. Mike strained a little on the crux of this pitch in order to make me feel better, however, thanks to a timely, "you got it Mike!" from me, he was able to pull through without falling. This was Mike's third 5.12 on-sight of the day, second in a row, and second 5.12b. I was absolutely amazed. "This must be what its like to know a good climber!" a thought to myself.

At this point I have to admit I'm having difficulty coming up with synonyms for "amazing," so I'll just say I was astonished when I was able to flash the pitch as well, albeit on toprope. The pitch was very balancy like the other 5.12 pitches, involving very strenuous thin liebacking on non-existent holds. The final pitch of the Red Dihedral also goes at 5.12b, but isn't really in the dihedral. At this point the original Red Dihedral has petered out, but a similar dihedral has taken its place. The bolted belay is several feet to the left of the surrogate dihedral, and at this point two distinct lines are apparent. To the right lies the dihedral, which arches left, forming an intimidating, bolt protected roof traverse. To the left it is possible to downclimb slightly to a shallow ramp, which is also protected by a line of bolts and joins the arching roof at the lip. Unsure of the "true" route, Mike stuck to the dihedral on the right. Upon return to civilization we discovered the route to the left is a slightly easier variation, which goes free at 5.11. The chosen line was tricky right from the start, involving some strenuous gastons and liebacking to get back into the dihedral where the climbing eased briefly. After 15 feet Mike began the traverse left under the roof. Despite a valiant effort groping for holds while fighting the creeping pump, Mike eventually came off at the second bolt under the roof, only several feet from easier climbing. Mike worked the moves here for several minutes, but was never able to come up with a reasonable sequence. Eventually Mike pulled through on ridiculous slopey and bad holds to easier climbing around the roof. I cruised up the lower crux, and shunning delusions of grandeur, pulled on the final quickdraw under the roof, quickly joining Mike at the belay.

The final belay is in a strange alcove/cave feature directly above the roof. The final lead was mine, and was quite awkward involving a combination of wide stemming, thin hand jamming and off-width technique to squirm my way out of the roof of the cave. This pitch isn't even dignified in the guidebook with a rating, but it felt to me like one of the more strenuous pitches of the route. I would call it old-school 5.9 off-width. Above the roof, the climbing eases to fourth class, and leads quickly to the summit.

We arrived on the summit at about 5pm and soaked up the sun (which had been absent all day) briefly before beginning the long series of rappels. It is possible to walk off the summit, but rappelling definitely seems like the better option. Despite two stuck ropes and, in turn, two trips jugging back up the ropes, we were safely on the ground a little after dark. We began the long trudge back to the car, content with a nice full day of exquisite free climbing.

Editor's Note: The author is a Major Contributor to the North American Classics project.