The 7 Worst Climbing Areas in the United States—And Why We Love Them Anyway
It’s easy to cast shade on crags we deem “less than.” The Red River Gorge local, climbing on perfect Cutler sandstone, may scoff at the short, scruffy limestone chip jobs at Jack’s Canyon, Arizona. Meanwhile, the Jack’s local scoffs at the rock-starved Midwestern kid climbing greasy eliminates at the local gym. But of course, to that kid, Jack’s might seem as epic as the Red.
What it comes down to is that we aren’t all privileged enough to either live near or frequent the world’s best rocks. Another factor in our judgments of best or worst climbing areas: We simply have a different eye for what is “good” and “aesthetic.” Climbing quality is a sliding scale that can easily endow our local choss with an extra star (or four) because of its proximity to our doorstep.
That said, seven crags in the United States have repeatedly made an informal “worst” list we compiled based on editor suggestions and Instagram input. We don’t intend to throw anyone’s beloved local area under the bus, but to point out, perhaps, just what a psyched bunch we climbers are—we’ll climb on anything, anywhere, just to get our fix. And for all who flock to these objectively inferior crags, we also offer some pointers for how to optimize a potentially meh climbing experience.
Nomad’s Cave, Clear Creek Canyon, Colorado
Nomad’s Cave presents the best and worst of early 1990s sport climbing. Radically steep, it made for an alluring target back when the first routes went in. But it also showcases one of that era’s biggest misfires: Drilled two-finger-pocket ladders. Look no further than the route Predator (5.12c) or its even crappier 5.13 extension Predator X, which has drilled monos. The intent, I suppose, was to emulate the of-the-moment French pocket tugging. Nomad’s Cave also regales all who visit with short-AF lines, road noise from US-6 (which ferries Monster Energy–aggro skiers onto I-70, as well as rumbling-jake-brake gravel trucks down into Denver), and dark, unsightly gneiss that screams “Don’t climb me!” Boulderers have revitalized the area by doing every possible variation on the roof undercutting the wall—some even link into the sport climbs. But it’s grid bouldering, and you’re still at Nomad’s Cave sucking exhaust.
Why it’s bad: Drilled pockets; short, scruffy, ugly routes; road noise and pollution; annoying river crossing via wading; creaky ice bridges, or a saggy Tyrolean; endless linkup boulders to nowhere.
Why we love it anyway: Convenient access to the Denver Metro; high in the canyon so it has cooler temps on warm days’ high concentration of difficult cave climbing.
How to make the most of it: Wear an N95 mask while belaying to protect your lungs; bring waders and/or poles for the approach.
North Table Mountain, Golden, Colorado
I must confess, I climb on these basalt cliffs above Golden from time to time. But in the 35 years I’ve been in Colorado, I can still probably count my visits on two hands. As one IG respondent described them, perhaps perfectly: “Putrid stench, polished holds, rattlesnakes galore, smog, idiots.”
The stench owes its origins to the industrial Coors Brewery down below. The polish is courtesy of years of traffic, glossing up the already slick basalt—which bakes in the sun all day, only making matters worse. Rattlers are out en force in the warmer months. Denver smog can hover in the valley. And the “idiots,” meanwhile, would be the amazingly low-etiquette newbies who often overrun these highly mediocre cliffs. Also, there are ledges all over to hit if you fall. The Quarry and East Quarry areas have sheerer, more ledge-free rock by dint of being quarried, though entire sections of wall have simply slid off to become talus.
Why it’s bad: Hot and sunny; bad smell; chossy, ledgy rock that somehow manages to be both sharp and polished; on weekends, can be more overrun than a rock gym at peak hours.
Why we love it anyway: Decent climbs here and there in hidden pockets; offers good views; a viable Hail Mary alternative for getting on rock on a cold winter day when you just can’t stand the gym anymore.
How to make the most of it: Only go in winter; factor ledge falls into route choices; go at odd hours to avoid the masses.
Cliff Drive, Kansas City, Missouri
Like so many areas on this list, Cliff Drive takes its knocks for having short, chossy cliffs—in this case flakey, layer-cake limestone. But this Kansas City crag also sports all the other issues that come with proximity to an urban area: noise, trash, overtraveled rock, etc. (“Bolted limestone, choss next to traffic,” opined one IG respondent.) That said, it’s in a beloved park right inside the city, sits in a forest of shade trees, and has near-zero-approach access. The Overhang area offers a condensed handful of steep 5.11s and 5.12s for a quick pump.
Why it’s bad: As one Mountain Project user summed it up: “This place isn’t good. The rock is caked in dirt, and is unstable. I blew an entire hold off the wall.” (To which another user countered, hilariously, “Don’t bother climbing anywhere in Missouri [or on most limestone] if blowing an entire hold’ off is too much for you to handle.”)
Why we love it anyway: Easy access from the Kansas City Metro; enough sport climbs and boulder problems for a short, fun outing.
How to make the most of it: Be conscious of loose rock when climbing, and mark friable holds with an “X” for the next climber; bring a trash bag and pick up some litter for good karma on your climb.
Black Corridor, Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, Las Vegas, Nevada
With its first routes bolted in the early 1990s, the Black Corridor represented a cool, new addition to Red Rock. At latest count, this tight corridor with a sandy floor features 45 fun, technical slabby and vertical face climbs in the appealing 5.9–5.11 grade range, all ridiculously close together. Basically, it’s a gym-like moderate paradise. Unfortunately, that’s also made it wildly popular, and climbing in such a tight space with crowds can feel like being on the New York Subway, replete with noise, music, eau de urine, wafts of cigarette smoke, etc.
Why it’s bad: The stench; nearly unavoidable proximity to other climbers whose habits may or may not annoy you; slabby climbs may not be for everyone.
Why we love it anyway: Cool slot-canyon ambience with a high concentration of moderates.
How to make the most of it: Avoid going with any semblance of an expectation that you’ll be climbing in solitude with just you and your partner(s)—embrace the social vibes. And don’t be part of the problem—go way outside the corridor to take a leak. Leave dogs, cigarettes, and bluetooth speakers at home.
Birdsboro Climbing Quarry, Birdsboro, Pennsylvania
This area had the most responses of any on our IG Story poll. One climber declared: “No sun, insane choss, short routes, bad bolts. But it’s also perfect.” Another reflected: “Birdsboro near Philly has almost entire routes glued back on.” And, finally: “I broke six ribs because the wall fell away from the rest of the climb.”
This diabase quarry northwest of Philly is easy to hate because, well, it’s a quarry. That means variable rock, dirty ledges, and features that sometimes slough off. But this urban crag also has 150 varied climbs up to 5.14, a strong local climbing association to look after it, and good access thanks to strong relationships with local land managers.
Why it’s bad: Mixed-quality quarried rock, though some of the loosest climbs have cleaned up with traffic; diabase is slippery, especially in Pennsylvania’s summer heat and humidity.
Why we love it anyway: Proximity (50 miles) to Philadelphia and other population centers; a high concentration of sport climbs reaching back three decades.
How to make the most of it: After sufficiently lowering your expectations, head to Birdsboro when temperatures are reasonable and humidity is low. Bring an abundance of chalk and a helmet.
Barton Creek Greenbelt, Austin, Texas
The Barton Creek Greenbelt on the west side of Austin is by itself lovely. This preserve of jungly forest, limestone cliffs, and river-polished slabs forms a landscape so unique it’s even appeared in movies (Predators, 2010). I recommend its gravel path for a trail run. The climbing, however, leaves much to be desired. Condensation often coats a limestone that is slick to begin with, thanks to decades of exposure to boot-rubber and hand-grease. And this urban crag is truly Austin-weird, having even spawned the legendary Texas Quickdraw Chain Free Solo Guy.
Why it’s bad: The world’s slickest limestone (“slimestone”) in one of the world’s dankest, most humid places—a narrow riverbed canyon in South Texas that locals jokingly call the “Greasebelt.”
Why we love it anyway: Easy spot to get your after-work fix; tranquil hang in a unique setting; decent pockets of quick-access, after-work sport climbing and toproping on vertical to overhanging limestone.
How to make the most of it: Avoid climbing in the sun or on humid days to minimize slime. Embrace this weird crag for what it is, and shoot your own Predators-themed mini-send edit when you can’t handle the actual climbing anymore.
Echo Canyon, Echo, Utah
Think of Echo Canyon as a second-tier Maple Canyon: It’s conglomerate, sure, but less bonded and with perhaps a bit more “creative cleaning,” says one local. Now factor in road noise from I-80 and the frontage road, an open-air gun range down the road, plus an active railway right beneath. What does that leave climbers in the Wasatch Range? An easy-access zone with crushingly high decibel levels—if you’re noise sensitive, stay home!
Why it’s bad: Drilled holds; rattlesnakes; camper trash; omnipresent highway noise; loud locomotives that make belayer-climber communication impossible for 10 minutes every hour or so.
Why we love it anyway: The crag is only 30 minutes from Park City; warmer than the mountains with temperatures that always seem to be five degrees higher; a reliable, zero-approach spot with dozens of routes good for family climbing.
How to make the most of it: Consider establishing a rope-tug comms system with your partner—or bring radios if you have ‘em. Wear cowboy boots for the rattlers!
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