“I dreamed of moving to the San Juans for years with the assumption that climbing would be less important in my life when I did,” claims Ouray resident Mike Pennings of his 2002 relocation. “The lifestyle is laid back. I moved here for the natural beauty and recreation, plus it’s a tight community. We look out for each other.” If Pennings moved to the San Juans for a life where climbing was less of a focus, he quickly fell off that wagon. “When I saw the potential for new routes, it got me really psyched,” he says. “It rekindled my desire for climbing.” A naturally gifted climber, Pennings has added over a dozen new routes in the area. Some of his all-star climbs include the amazing Stone Age (5.12-) at the Trough, and Technical Ecstasy (5.12+) and All Night Rave (5.12) at the well-named Technicolor Wall.
I spend my afternoon climbing at the Technicolor Wall with Michael Gilbert, another “local” who transplanted himself to Ouray from Boulder in 1999 and has since established over fifty routes around town. “I moved to Ouray to get away from traffic lights, highways, and cars,” Gilbert states. “There aren’t too many places where you can ski in the morning, ice climb mid-morning, and rock climb in the afternoon without really driving.”
Gilbert has an aloof nature that veils his mental sharpness. He’s a practicing attorney, and I detect a bit of sandbagging in his route descriptions. Nonetheless, we fuel up on caffeine at his house before walking out his backdoor to the crag, the Pool Wall, located 500 feet from the town’s signature hot springs. This downtown crag is a double tier of tanned, sturdy sandstone, about a quarter-mile wide, with airy arêtes, crimpy and pocketed faces, and roofs that demand technical foot wizardry.
Gilbert has an eye for picking out challenging routes, though he claims to look for “clean, aesthetic rock with holds.” As I sample classics like Annie’s Arête (5.11b), The Deep End (5.11c), Bay of Pigs (5.12b), and Fine Line (5.12b), I realize he meant small holds. Thanks to Gilbert, the Pool Wall now has over sixty routes from 5.6 to 5.13b. The climbing is excellent, but we soon decide to soak our over-worked muscles in the hot springs and call it a day. We eat mondo burritos at the Buen Tiempo Mexican restaurant and Gilbert reflects, “The community is small — there are less than 600 people in San Juan County. The climbers see each other all the time. Tightly knit implies exclusionary, but I think it’s a very open and friendly climbing scene. It’s like a group of extended friends. Information travels quickly, you get new route Beta fast, plus people tell you about climbing on your routes.”

At 9800 feet, Silverton is one of Colorado’s highest towns, and sits nestled in a broad valley under looming peaks. Over 100 named avalanche paths frequently seal off the passage in or out of town during heavy winter months, and roughly half of the local businesses board their storefronts for winter. In the summer tourist season, warm temperatures, reopened boardwalk cafes and restaurants, and bustling bars fill the nights with excitement. The locals are usually somewhere between work and play, pursuing backcountry skiing, climbing expeditions, and outdoor adventures of all kinds — as well as paying their bills. I’ve never seen a tighter community than Silverton, and I can hardly drive a block before stopping to catch up with a friend.
Rex Wolters is a tall, dread-locked woodworker and drummer who has lived in Silverton since 2000. After a trip to El Potrero Chico in 2002, he came home motivated to scout the local cliffs for new lines. “I was surprised no one had tapped its potential,” Wolters recalls. “The seclusion is the draw for me. It’s weird because people have stated the climbing is bad here. Sure, the rock on the high peaks is questionable, but we climb in the river valleys, and it’s really good.”
The next day I take the short hike to the Stripe, a 100-foot granite cliff along the Animas River just south of town, and I see what Wolters is psyched about. The black-and-white-striped wall is scored with diagonal dikes, intermittent cracks, chiseled faces, and overhanging arêtes, and had only two spicy 5.11 routes until Wolters set to work and added eight more lines. His best effort scored him The Motherload (5.13a), following a white column to an overhanging arête for eighty feet.
Later that afternoon I hook up with Doug Byerly, who moved to Silverton looking for big ski thrills, virgin rock, and late-night jam sessions with Rex and other musicians. We drive a few miles north along the Animas on the dirt road leading to the old mining camp of Eureka. There is the 600-foot Eureka Tower, of which many of Wolter’s bolted multi-pitch gems lay, such as Gold Digger (III 5.7), and Hardrock Miner (III 5.8). Lining the canyon where great ice forms in the winter are several more of Wolter’s climbs, including Silver Stage (5.10c), and Five Cart Draw (5.9). The last two routes climb the steep face just to the right of a classic ice route I’ve previously climbed called Gold Rush.