1963: Should Twelve-Year-Olds Be Rock Climbing w/o Adult Supervision?
I grew up in the post-war neighborhoods below Chautauqua in Boulder, at the foot of the magnificent Flatirons. By the time I was eight, my playmates and I were leaving home to explore Woods Quarry and other secret places below the Fourth and Fifth Flatirons. Kids had huge freedom in those days, and I used that gift from my parents to revel in wild nature. It was inevitable that the towering rocks would cast their spell over me.
Having advanced academically to Baseline Junior High and 7th grade, some of my twelve-year-old buddies and I we were running around on Flagstaff Mountain one day and saw some guys rappelling from a tree next to the trail just above Bear Cave. We stood nearby watching and peppered them with questions. They obliged us and probably felt a bit heroic, having impressed us twelve-year-olds so much. We all looked at each other with wide eyes … this is sooo cool! Just touching and holding the equipment was exciting. We knew we had to start doing this, and it was rappelling that fired our first climbing passions.
Looking down the Maiden free rappel.
We saved up our money to go to Holubar’s on the Hill in Boulder and buy some starter gear. Our ropes were 3/8-inch Goldline, braided nylon, 120 or 150 feet. Carabiners were either the heavy, sharp, steel variety from Austria (Stubai) or the recent American innovation, aluminum. The U.S. Army made the first aluminum carabiners, and Yvon Chouinard began manufacturing and selling them as he launched his fabulously successful company that later turned into Patagonia and Black Diamond. Shoes were gray suede lace-up klettershoes, such as Kronhoffers. Protection technology was strictly steel pitons that were driven into cracks with a hammer. Most of this early technology came out of Europe where climbing had been around for a hundred years. In 1963 climbing was still in its infancy in the States, and the center of the climbing universe was Yosemite Valley where a revolution in technology and climbing style was underway. Royal Robbins, Yvon Chouinard, Tom Frost, Chuck Pratt, and others were charting new territory on El Cap, using new equipment and techniques. They were far beyond anyone else in the world at that time, except for one guy in Colorado, based in Boulder: Layton Kor.
For rappelling we learned to use a sling and carabiner brake system - this was years before harnesses came into use. But in case of emergency everyone also learned the body rappel - the painful Dulfer Sitz. Builds character. Our parents required us to go through the Colorado Mountain Club Climbing School that was held every spring. This was a good idea. I’m sure my parents hoped I would lose interest in this hobby, as I had with baseball and piano. But my passion for climbing only grew.
My first rappels were low angle, like the 45-degree slab of Woods Quarry, then we built up to doing a free rappel, suspended in space and sliding down a skinny rope. I was discovering that the space around rocks is as much a part of the experience as the rocks themselves. But space has its terrors, especially for beginners – we are wired to recognize and avoid danger - and I had my own fears to manage. Undoubtedly, the fear also delivered an adrenaline rush and a deep personal experience. We built up confidence slowly by working up a hierarchy of rappels in the Flatirons, each one bigger and scarier than the last:
1. Pumpkin Rock – 20’ free
2. Alamo Rock – 35’ free
3. The Royal Arch - 55’ free
4. The Fifth Flatiron – 70’ free
5. The Maiden - 110’ free, and still one of the most spectacular rappels in the world.
I eventually succeeded in this rite of passage, but by the time I ticked the Maiden rappel I had become a real climber, because getting to the top of the Maiden was a real climb. I now knew that there was much more to climbing than rappelling. I had discovered the world of leading.