Way out west, far from any big cities, there exists an enchanted rock forest surrounded by lanky trees that look like cheerleaders with outstretched arms, holding pom-poms. Coyotes run around at their feet, howling in unison at twinkling stars. The rocks appear like giant cracked robin’s eggs, potatoes, and even tombstones, glittering by the morning’s sun, as the quartz reflects its light. Fifty years ago, men stared in wonder at this captivating creation; a few did the most natural thing they could think of — climb! 

The rock forest still exists, though it is actually a desert, now protected for everyone to enjoy. This is Joshua Tree National Park (elevated in 1994 from national monument-status), an 800,000-acre attraction in the Southern California desert; a quartz monzonite playground, where the subterranean, crystal-covered granite domes have been unearthed by years of erosion, exposing their perfect, albeit sharp cracks, and rock grippy enough to allow hands-free 5.9 smears.

I was fortunate to grow up in a little town called Calimesa, where people only stop for gas or McDonalds.  Its proximity to Joshua Tree (60 miles), helped introduce me to climbing. It didn’t take long for me to tick off a number of climbs around Hidden Valley Campground, the Real Hidden Valley, and Echo Cove. These are the core climbing areas, near the historic campground, where more than three decades of climbers have convened with the same passion: to free climb the beautiful faces of J-Tree. In fact, the majority of people start out on The Old Woman, The Blob, and Outhouse Rock, which surround Hidden Valley Campground.

I got started by luck, in 2002. I worked at a boys' home with a man who had climbed at J-Tree for 30 years. He had acquired extra gear, for taking the boys out. One day he invited me to go climbing. All I needed were my legs and ambition. Pretty soon, we were going out every week. By the time I moved to college, I had built a rack, and so would winter there while on break and post signs for partners. It was never hard to meet people and J-Tree never lacked adventure. I explored the park as much as I could. Even so, I have only been on a fraction of the routes.

Now, when I go back, I try to visit different areas — ones where I can get lost in the climbing and escape the masses; on a typical winter weekend, all the campgrounds will be full and most roadside crags resemble ant mounds covered with climbers at work. A popular crag, like Intersection Rock, might have climbers on every route, with parties starting while others are still climbing, and people waiting at the rappels. Meanwhile, the parking areas resemble a tailgate party before a college football game. Many crags have guides, working with schools of pre-pubescent newbies, who are destroying their shoes trying to Flintstone-pedal up the rock. Once, I even saw a church choir of elderly women reciting “Silent Night” at the Old Woman!