Climbing in the Black Hills

In the Spring 2006 edition of Alpinist magazine, there is a nice write-up on the history of climbing in the Needles of the Black Hills of South Dakota. There have been other articles in other magazines in the past, but never have they gone to the detail this one does. The accompanying map is made out to look like one of Middle Earth you might see in Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, and evokes feelings of a long-lost land, full of mystery and danger. The feelings are relevant. This area has a long climbing history full of colorful characters. The sheer number of granite spires spread throughout the area lends to its mysterious character as visitors try to find their way around through the hundreds, if not thousands, of formations. And there certainly is an element of danger. The Needles is a staunch traditional area, where routes are put up from the ground, and consequently protection is often scant, and runouts are long. Not the kind of climbing that gives much hope to mere mortals.

Susan and I had heard much of this prior to our first trip to the area in 2003. The stories of the long runouts and stiff climbing conspired to put me on edge every time I tied in. We had a couple of 80-foot climbs on that trip where the bolts ended halfway up the route, and we would have to run it out the rest of the way. Overall we had a good time and got in some good climbs, but it was on this trip, that in a sudden absence of testicles, I backed off the classic Tricouni Nail in a fit of bitter disappointment when I couldn't see my next gear placement. I knew we'd be back, and I hoped that the next time I'd be climbing so well I could blast up any climb of my choosing.

Well, life has had a funny way of changing my plans. Two years ago we had Justin, and our climbing has changed somewhat. We still climb, but less than we did. And because we climb less, we haven't improved much in the past couple of years. So when we pulled into the Black Hills area on our yearlong road trip, I wasn't sure what to expect. Sure, there were all the tourist things we could do - Rushmore, Wind Cave, Badlands - but what about the climbing? Could we find something that Susan and I could handle with Justin along, that wouldn't get us in over our heads? (Oh, and by the way, Susan is now four months pregnant, which was definitely unplanned and hasn't helped our climbing any).

The answer turned out to be yes; there is climbing for mortals, even pregnant ones, in the Black Hills. We knew from our last trip that on the back side of the Sylvan Lake dam, there is a sub-5.6 bolted route that gives access to other, harder routes. We spent half a day there, enjoying the knobby granite, no crowds, and shade until the early afternoon. (As another example of Black Hills runouts, we top-roped a 100-foot 5.9 that had only two bolts on it: one at 15-feet off the ground, and another 40-feet above that). So that took care of one of our climbing days, but after that we didn't know where to go.

One day in Hill City, the closest town to Custer State Park, the heart of the Black Hills, I ran into a woman at the climbing shop who overheard me asking the clerk about local climbing. She asked what we were looking for. I told here we were very particular. The area we sought had to have a short and level enough approach that Justin could hike it, it needed to be in the shade, it needed to have an easy enough route that I could confidently lead without worrying about Susan needing to catch a lead fall in her condition, and it had to have access to other climbs from the top. I half expected her to bust out laughing, but it turned out she and a group of friends had been at an area near Mount Rushmore that very day that fit my description perfectly. The next day, Susan, Justin and I drove over to North Park, made the short 5-minute hike, and enjoyed more fun climbing, complete with no one else around. This area has 18 climbs from 5.6 to 5.10c, all of which are bolted, all of which have anchors at the top, and all are accessible from trails up the backs of the formations. We climbed what we could prior to being chased out by the rain, and we even got Justin into his harness and several feet off the ground so he could continue to get accustomed to climbing and being lowered. This area, plus others we learned about in the area, would have kept us busy for much longer than the time we had to spend here.

These were the only two days we climbed in the week we were here, but it was enough. We were very happy to visit the Black Hills again, and happy to be able to climb, even with all of the conditions we now have to place on our climbing. For strong climbers and bold leaders, the Needles and surrounding areas can satisfy you for weeks on end. For those of us whose climbing tends to stay firmly planted in the moderate range, there is hope.

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