Climbing in the Sky Valley
The goal is, as always, to send it -- “send” being a slangy abbreviation of “ascend.” For the avid climbers of the Pacific Northwest, there’s always the next boulder out there to send.
The subalpine woods of the Skykomish River Valley are full of them -- rocky forest giants made of fine-grained granite, boulders easy to grip when dry and scrubbed of moss and dirt.
In the carefree spirit of the bouldering community, these rocks sport zany names like Midnight Lichen, Metroid Prime, or Doja. Most bouldering spots have at least one stone named after a Star Wars reference or an inside joke.
The boulderers wake early, before the sun is up. They rise before the coffee has fully hit the cognitive centers of their brains. Heading out to the east, seeking the day, car trunks filled with crash pads, chalk, and pairs of tight-fitting, rubber-heeled climbing shoes.
Passing the town of Gold Bar, they take a left off Highway 2 onto Reiter Road. Driving up to a secluded gate, they park and hike in, ascending a decommissioned logging road, gear in tow. They carry crash pads on their backs, rucksack style.
Bouldering is a subgenre of rock climbing. It’s performed without the use of ropes or harnesses. Instead, climbers rely on crash pads or other types of protective equipment to cushion their falls.
Bouldering routes, known as "problems," are typically shorter and more physically challenging than traditional climbing routes. The focus is on technical movement, problem-solving, and strength, rather than endurance. Bouldering problems may involve a variety of moves, such as mantles, dynos, and crimps.
Often a successful ascent can come down to a particular hold on a certain crevice, with a particular finger. Veteran climbers work on developing their finger strength for this reason.
The climbers stand before mossy monoliths that were deposited here eons ago by the repeated advancement and retreat over the millennia. They envision the “problem” and how they will contort and flex their bodies into the right clefts and crevices that will allow them to pull themselves to the top. They may do a little dance as they think through their approach. They shimmy as they anticipate the climb. Then they chalk their hands.
And, with any luck, they send it.
The Gold Bar area is perhaps the best-kept bouldering secret in Western Washington, according to Pablo Zuleta. Pablo is the author of Western Washington Bouldering: Skykomish Valley. The book is the bible of rocky recreation in this river valley. It’s so popular that it’s being reprinted later this year in an expanded and revised second edition.
Pablo originally published the book in 2016. “The bouldering community has changed a lot in the past few years,” he notes. “Back when the first edition was published, the subculture was much smaller.” Climbers were considered backwoods eccentrics with a semi-religious set of climbing rituals. Tape the Nalgene bottle so your fingers don’t get moist. Eat food out of a bag, don’t touch it; chocolate or excess oils may impact your grip. Warm up in the elusive PNW sun, if possible, to give your muscles extra stretch.
Today there are more super gyms. Boulderers sometimes come out in the thousands over the course of the dry season. Problems used to be shared on spreadsheets in online forums, or painstakingly rendered in topo maps. Today, they’re geotagged on Instagram.
Remarkably, this hasn’t been a significant source of contention among boulderers. “The whole purpose of climbing is to have a good time,” Pablo posits with a laugh. Thus, the zany rock names -- Elephant’s Butt, or the “Do Robots Dream of Electric Sheep?” boulder.
Pablo and his buddies are developers. They scour Google Earth for novel formations. They hike out during the rainy off-season to clean and scrub boulders. They check and double-check that the rocks aren’t on private property. They often build trails that lead to new bouldering fields.
If you’re a developer and you find a boulder, you can name it and claim it. Clean it off and be the first person to send it; the bragging rights are all yours. It doesn’t pay to keep the spot to yourself. Thick, carpet-like PNW moss grows back on boulders during the course of a year. The more climbers who know about your rock, the cleaner it will stay for your next visit.
Gold Bar has been a favorite, if somewhat secret, destination for the Seattle area bouldering community since the 1990s. From most accounts, the beginning was a sort of symbiotic relationship between gruff loggers in Gold Bar and the granola bouldering set. Each group gave the other ample distance, shared logging roads, and fostered mutual respect. It was a case study in peacefully sharing the great outdoors.
As the years passed the Reiter area began to change. More off-road vehicles began to run up and down the logging roads that gave access to bouldering fields, and illegal garbage dumps began piling up. So, the Department of Natural Resources (DNR) closed the Reiter logging road gate, and locked it.
Today, off-road enthusiasts now have their own designated park in the area, according to some in the bouldering community. Climbers are tolerated in the area -- as opposed to favored recreation groups like equestrians, motorcyclists, and motorists.
“There’s still a big need for advocacy,” says Gabe Cisneros of Bouldering Gold Bar. “We need climbers to join the WCC or similar groups. We need folks to show up at DNR meetings for representation."
But he also sees tremendous potential for creating even better sustainable access to this beloved area. “The boulders here are an amazing resource. We just need more funding and advocacy.”
In other words: send it. Then work hard so that the next person can send it, too.
Further up the Skykomish River Valley climbers will discover towering batholiths of igneous rock . They are enormous formations of cooled lava that jut into the skyscape alongside alpine-covered mountains. This is an area that’s legendary in the outdoors community, a place where Fred Beckey and other “dirtbag climbers” racked up first ascents atop crazy steep cliffs.
The small town of Index (population 156) sits a mile north of Highway 2 along the North Fork of the Skykomish River. There is one small general store that serves as the community’s post office and social hub. Towering above the town is the Index Town Wall: a batholith par excellence – a relic of the granite quarry, Index Granite Company, that operated from 1904 to 1936. Saved by the citizens of Index, the passage of the Wild Sky Wilderness bill in 2008 makes this Washington State Park a beacon for climbers.
The Town Wall is probably the most famous place to climb in Western Washington. The Upper Town Wall is over 600 feet high, and almost entirely vertical. In addition, the smaller walls in and around Index make this a hub for folks looking to try everything from accessible, bolt-protected sport routes to “trad climbs” free of pre-placed equipment.
The routes here also follow suit in the ridiculous name department: behold Senior Citizens in Space, Godzilla, Wham, and An Act of Strange Boar.
Small towns like Index and Gold Bar are indeed destinations for outdoor recreation. And, as the county population grows and expands outward from urban centers, these rural communities are focusing on stewardship of the rocks, rivers, and trees that make the Upper Sky Valley such a lovely place to visit.
If and when you visit the Gold Bar Boulders or the Index Town Wall, please do so with respect for the land and the local communities.
And just like the best of ascents, there’s the perfect balance to be struck.