Trihardral 5.8, First Creek Canyon

Climbed on July 24, 2022. 

Fun Rating: Quite Fun.

Climbing through the summer in Las Vegas is much more tolerable than many climbers are led to believe, looking at the triple digit temperatures on weather apps from their shady belays in Squamish. It does, however, require cultivation of a sufficient quantity of desert experience, carrying a sufficient quantity of water, and with the knowledge that “comfort” is not the goal. With all those things in my mind, and with my main desert creature Zak busy with work, I swindled my wife, Megan, (ever patient and with saintly tolerance) and my erstwhile protege Justin into a thruple attack on Trihardral.

A rare selfie.

I had been looking at this one for a while as the FA party was the stuff of legend. The history would have called to me even if it weren’t described as a “giant, right-facing corner” and “shaded from the morning sun.” A perfect target, in my mind, for a quick romp up and somewhat toasty walk out. There was no one else in the First Creek lot as Megan and I met with Justin, perhaps we should have taken this as an auspice and called it there. Justin, I noticed, was in a t-shirt with no hat. I had some small concern about this, but given how much water we had and that I figured the whole climb would be in the shade I made the internal call to go ahead with the climb. In hindsight, this was a mistake.

Justin climbing out of the sun.

The hike to the wall was warm but bearable, and after some water and snacks we set off. As with many of my experiences on climbs, I remember it mostly in snapshots and at calm moments at belays. The corner itself was fantastic, and when I offered the decision between the 5.6 slab and the 5.9 crack variation in the upper pitches, my partners decided on the slab. This was easily my least favorite part of the climb, not difficult but a good runout to the first solid placement, and while I can slab fairly well I am not a man who typically enjoys it.

We made it to the top in a few hours, longer than I expected. This was another mistake, as I know that when this particular climbing group is together we move fairly slow. It was past noon by the time we started hiking off, and basically as soon as we finished rapping off past Atras (coming for you soon, baby) we were in full sun. Megan and I retreated to the safety of our sun hoodies, but Justin did not have anywhere to flee. Thus began the Great Trudge.

Megan at a prototypical Red Rock tree belay.

About a mile into the hike, Justin started feeling unwell. Over the next 45 minutes we were able to find him a small bush to hide behind, have me hike our packs back, get water, and cool him off enough to make it back to the car. This was by far the most dangerous moment I’ve had related to climbing (writer’s note: this is no longer the case, unfortunately), and it had nothing to do with the climbing itself. I had climbed in the Vegas summer a great deal before this, and have taken this moment with me on my climbs since. 

Justin has, in fact, continued to climb with me. I know, I’m surprised too.

The true denizens of the canyon.