Community Pillar is about as traditional a route you will find in Red Rocks, attacking the most obvious weakness on the 800 foot north face of Magic Mountain with six straight pitches of wide cracks and chimneys, no lead bolts or bolted belays, and several unapologetically bold runouts – a true cult classic.
Community Pillar (5.8+ R, III, 800’) is reminiscent of The Snaz (5.10a, IV) in the Tetons, and Whodunnit (5.9+, III) at Tahquitz Rock – proud, bold, physical, storied and aesthetic. In my book, any route with the previous five adjectives is a route worth climbing. Like the aforementioned routes, you won’t find any bolts on Community Pillar, not even the Red Rocks ubiquitous bolted belays. This remarkably natural line is visible from miles away, following a continuous 800 foot system of chimneys and wide cracks. Runouts are frequent, the grade is stiff, a wide array of climbing styles are tested, and an ability to persevere through discomfort is required. But unlike The Sanz, Whodunnit, or any other climb Bobbi or I have done in North America, Community Pillar offers something special. In a mere seven pitches climbers will contort through four different vertical tunnels, belay in three deep caves, and climb two wild bombay chimneys contained entirely within Magic Mountain’s annals. Simply put, it’s the single most unique route we’ve ever climbed, and worthy of a proper story.
We sought Community Pillar for two reasons: preparation for the notorious Epinephrine chimneys, and to reconnect with our adventure-centric alpine climbing roots. The Red Rocks ubiquitous fixed anchors are convenient for limit climbing and seamless retreat, but there’s something magical about upping the commitment quotient with an entirely natural old-school visionquest. Furthermore, as our second multi-pitch climb of the season, dropping difficulty seemed pertinent. Community Pillar gets the notorious grade of “1970’s 5.8+”. Whether it would actually be 5.8+ or closer to 5.10 was yet determined, especially because the route was established by legendary desert hard man Joe Herbst, but either way it would be well within our league.
We got a morning casual jump from the Pine Creek parking lot at 9:30, and tied in by 10:30. Pitch one sets the tone for the entire outing, beginning up a gaping 15 foot wide chimney with a wedged cabin size chockstone. Surmounting the chockstone is the first of many cruxes, with three choices. A slew of smaller chockstones behind the “cabin” create two separate and very tight tunnels. Both the right and left choices are too slim for a 6’4’’ 185 pound male, but fortunately there is an alternative. To the left of the left tunnel is a tricky and sparsely protected face traverse leading to a third and much larger tunnel. The book calls this traverse a “5.9 boulder problem” but after three forays into and out of the crux, and finally sacking up for the move, I thought it significantly harder. Bobbi was reluctant to follow this traverse because of a scary and potentially dangerous pendulum fall, so she wedged into the left tunnel and untied, after which I dropped her a line through the tunnel so she could worm her slender body through. With inches to spare she wedged upward, forced to jettison helmet and pack, and once even believed herself fully stuck. Sampling variations, making a second anchor for Bobbi’s tunnel, untying and retying, lowering to clean gear from the 5.9 variation, and dropping my belay device into a chasm, taxed us a full hour – and we weren’t even 100 feet off the ground. Worse, a hell of an imposing mountain lied above, with a neck craning stack of endless wide cracks as far as the eye could see. It was time to move.
Pitches two and three were a welcomed reprieve from the pitch one time suck, a relatively straightforward but comically unprotected 5.8 off-width, and a deep varnished 5.6 bombay chimney. In short order we were at the crux, a deep, long, sustained and notoriously runout 5.8+ flaring off-width. Mountain Project is rife with comments about “meeting your maker” and sandbagged climbing on “hollow rock”, but I was delighted to find the beast quite manageable, and often actually fun. The guidebook suggests a double set of cams from 4” to 7” for this pitch, but we only had a single 4, 5 and 6 inch cam. As such, I departed the belay with a gear conservation mindset, vowing to only use large cams when absolutely necessary. While the crack often would’ve taken such gear, I was able to find a enough sneaky protection in incipient cracks and flakes, ending up with the #4 and #6 at the belay! From start to finish this pitch was amazing, with far better rock quality and movement than lore suggests. In 40-some meters the crack steadily widens from baggy hand jams to a bombay chimney, eventually becoming an enclosed tube with a deep cave in the back. Another “squeezeway” reminiscent of pitch one leads back out of the mountain to a sloping crawl space cave to belay. An increasingly common variation to pitch four, popularized by modern climbs averse to runout wide cracks, skirts the off-width via a splitter 5.9 varnished hand crack on the face – but there’s 1,000 other routes in Red Rocks to climb splitter cracks, and only one authentic way to experience the Community Pillar. In the words of an ASCA volunteer and Community Pillar enthusiast in the parking lot that morning, “you’re kinda there to climb the off-width, right?”
Pitch five exits the crawl cave back onto the face, with an exposed yet refreshingly straightforward pitch of blocky 5.7 stemming and jamming. At the conclusion of this pitch we dove into yet another cave, this one big enough to comfortably home ten people, and cast into pitch six. I was certain I’d never climbed a more unique pitch than pitch one. Pitch four abruptly upped the ante. Then, only one measly hour later, pitch six stole the entire show. The guidebook describes this cave as “extensive”, but extensive is an understatement. A 40 foot finger crack in a varnished corner, contained entirely within the mountain, led to one more wild bombay chimney heading directly towards what appeared to be the impenetrable top of this 100+ foot cave. But at the last moment, just when I was positive a dead end was eminent, an unlikely torso sized hole filled with daylight appeared. I stripped my entire rack, approach shoes and helmet before worming through this squeeze, and after two futile tries thought I might have to ditch my shirt too. 15 puffs and 16 grunts later I tricep pressed into yet another cave, the fourth and final one on route, and threw Bobbi on belay. Unlike the crux off-width, which she blazed up like a young John Long, this bombay was a bit wide for a 5’8” lady. She too had a hoot squeezing through the hole, complete with a bit of exhaustion induced claustrophobia. It was at this point I realized Community Pillar really is the McDonald’s playpen of adult rock climbing, and the most unique route I’d ever climbed in my life.
Appreciate Ten Thousand Too Far? Support independent mountain journalism with $5.10 per month through Patreon (and receive extra bonus content), or with a one-time donation. Any and all support is greatly appreciated.
One heroic rope length of fourth class slabbing led from the cave to summit, and six 35 meter rappels returned us to terra firma. Our car-to-car round trip time was 10.5 hours at a motivated pace. Three weeks later, we are still spinning lore about those chimneys and tunnels. Community Pillar is a four star route that stands in direct opposition to everything modern climbers have come to expect from Red Rocks. None of our normal climbing muscles were sore the next day, and I never got even close to pumped. Instead I woke up bleary, beaten and bruised, as if I’d got in a bar fight with six Irish construction workers. This is not a complaint, but rather an endorsement. Community Pillar is a distinctly idiosyncratic route any climber will remember forever, on par with Risky Business, Rock Warrior and Adventure Punks – where the heart and soul of traditional climbing is wholly preserved.
Want to support? Consider a donation, subscribe, check out my Patreon page, or simply support our sponsors listed below.
Ten Thousand Too Far is generously supported by Icelantic Skis from Golden Colorado, Range Meal Bars, The High Route, Black Diamond Equipment and Barrels & Bins Natural Market.
enter your email to subscribe to new article updates
DISCLAIMER
Ski mountaineering, rock climbing, ice climbing and all other forms of mountain recreation are inherently dangerous. Should you decide to attempt anything you read about in this article, you are doing so at your own risk! This article is written to the best possible level of accuracy and detail, but I am only human – information could be presented wrong. Furthermore, conditions in the mountains are subject to change at any time. Ten Thousand Too Far and Brandon Wanthal are not liable for any actions or repercussions acted upon or suffered from the result of this article’s reading.
Ten Thousand Too Far 
Leave a comment