For several years, I was pretty focused on new route development in the Roaring Fork Valley. There were three cliffs in particular that we had a vision for, knowing that when they were complete they’d offer fun, unique climbing that was much closer to town than anything currently established. There were only a couple of us toiling away at adding routes, and it was a lot of hard work. Finally, in about 2007, the crags were developed enough that whether you were in the mood for granite, sandstone or something else, you’d have about 50 pitches to choose from at each spot.

What is it about the open road that calls to us? And not just any open road, but the wide open highways of the West, where the landscape fades to the edges of the horizon, where the possibilities are as endless and big as the scenery.

We were sitting around the living room, racking up for a weekend of climbing on the Front Range. My friend grabbed a set of nuts, and mentioned how he was excited to get to climb on some granite where he could actually use them. Around here, you see, we don’t get the opportunity often, as we’re either clipping bolts or sinking the occasional cam, so this was going to be a nice change.

In the not-so-distant future, it’s unlikely that climber’s will enjoy the freedoms we currently have when it comes to establishing routes. For a long time we’ve flown under the radar as a self policing community that, aside from a few high profile spats, has proven it can manage itself in a responsible fashion. As the sport continues to grow, however, and more people are putting up new routes, we are coming under increasing scrutiny from land managers. This will inevitably lead to tighter rules and regulations, especially when it comes to the ever controversial bolt.

Recently I was driving up a scenic road to a beautiful cliff on a perfect spring day, and as we got closer to the parking area, there was a part of me that was really hoping to see some other cars in the lot, to know that other folks were going to be out enjoying the day like us. As I pondered these things, I noticed with a smile how I was actually hoping to see some people, and how that is very different from how many people (myself included) usually approach a day of climbing.

I’ve been blessed with many excellent days in Indian Creek this month, but during that time it’s become clear that a lot of folks are still clueless when it comes to taking a dump in the desert. The most egregious offenses I’ve seen were poop behind a big boulder twenty feet from the cliff, and a wag bag that was used but then left open in the fire pit for the next lucky camp dweller to deal with.

A comment on a recent post about upgrading old routes got me thinking about the absurd notion that many climbers have, in this country anyway, that somehow the first ascentionist owns the rock. Once the first guy does it, nothing short of a congressional mandate can change or alter the character of that climb.