It began about nine years ago when Jack Marshal, a retired builder now in his late forties, wondered if he could find steep rock in the SoCal area. Marshal had climbed for over two decades on what he terms “choss piles” and “dummy domes.” After visiting Rifle, American Fork, and the VRG, he realized that SoCal climbing was lagging a decade behind the rest of the sport-climbing world. Asserting that, “we weren’t even in the same league [as other areas],” Marshall was impressed with how strong people were climbing elsewhere, and knew that SoCal had to do some catching up.
One of Marshall’s trad friends mentioned an untouched area that was loaded with rock, but was “too shattered to hold a bolt.” To Marshall “too shattered” meant features, and features meant variety of movement. Investigating for himself, Marshal was initially unsure if he should develop the area. The rock was exfoliating and disintegrating on its surface, but he persevered. Nine years later some 350 routes exist from 5.6 to 5.13d, almost entirely established and redpointed by Marshall.
To those who frequent the area, Marshall’s vision prevails. New Jack City’s rock has an angular, fractured texture that allows for diverse sequences on every route. “Ladder climbing” doesn’t exist here. A climber, regardless of ability, must utilize all forms of movement, challenging both his strength and technical precision. A single route can have underclings, sidepulls, slaps to giant dishes, pinches, and pockets. You can climb a slab to an overhanging arête, mantel on giant slopers, and finish through vertical crimps.
NJC is situated on BLM land, whose slogan, “the land of many uses,” couldn’t be more appropriate. While the area was once used for cattle grazing, it eventually became an off-roading haven for ATVs and dirt bikes. The area’s wealth of unimproved roads and trails easily lent itself to illegal dumping, and with the trash came a lack of respect for the land.
Initially, Marshall felt, “It was the place to dump a dead body. We never knew if we were safe out there. We’d be putting up routes and hear gunfire all the time, including automatic weapons. One early morning I drove up and there was an abandoned car on fire right in front of a route.” Broken glass, graffiti, and gun shells plagued the landscape. “It was a total war zone.”
Marshal made a concerted effort to clean the area, carting out literally thousands of bags of garbage. He hired a tow truck to remove the charred vehicle (since the BLM wouldn’t touch it), and a dump truck to remove the larger debris. He described one instance when he witnessed some kids honing their paintball sharp-shooting skills — at one of his routes. He politely asked them to stop, but they replied, “Dude, its gonna wash off in the rain.” Marshal proceeded to educate the young ‘uns that they were standing in a desert.