Lotta Balls 5.8, Lotta Balls Wall

Climbed on March 15, 2022 and November 4, 2023. 

Fun Rating: Very Fun

Maybe this is just a me thing, but I’ve frequently noticed that my second time on a route tends to feel much more serious and scary than my first. I assume this is something to do with the expectation that my previous experience should make things easier, but in actuality I often find myself wondering at how much more effort I seem to be putting in than I expected. Surely not all of these routes have had key holds break (despite the prevalence of that happening in the lovely but frequently soft sandstone that makes up the majority of Red Rock.) With that surety in the back of my mind, I am left with the assumption that there is something about the way I’m experiencing these routes that is creating this sense of disparity.

Pitch 1.

My recollection of a route is predominantly made up of the quiet moments I spend at belays looking out over the canyon, watching birds go by or following a jumping spider as it explores my belay area. Breaking up this undertone are snatches of memorable bits of climbing like a unique hold or a section that felt notably runout or crispy. All of this is to say that I rarely have a defined plotline to follow in my remembrances of routes, and instead make up my memorializing from my feelings about these brief windows into the experience that I take with me.

Lotta Balls is a great route to have repeated, and to have two sets of experiences to compare with one another. My main memories are from the balls section of the second pitch, as I’m sure is the case for a majority of folks who have been on the route, and I was surprised to have experienced the reverse of my usual modus operandi the second time out. Lotta Balls was one of the early multipitches that I climbed in RRC after moving to Vegas from Chicago (my first was Group Therapy, real tone-setter of a climb,) and I remember being absolutely gripped with the second bolt below my feet, balancing on horrible tiny little nubs that I was sure were going to break at any moment. The feeling of relief when I got to the jugs at the base of the corner crack was immense, and I felt like I had gotten away with something. 

Looking down at the balls pitch from the belay.

In a pleasant and surprising contrast my second time on the pitch was shockingly pleasant. I still enjoy the second half of the pitch far more than the balls portion, but I feel like I got to have the experience that is expected when you see the grade 5.8 next to the name of a climb. Flowing from tiny nub to tiny nub, toes perched on balls smaller than marbles, everything felt solid and fun and smooth. I wish there were a 100’ sport pitch identical to the balls section, but I doubt you’d ever find it without a line if it existed, such is the quality of the climbing in that section.

All too soon, the pitch was done and then shortly after that we were at the top of the climb. I had been atop this formation with Justin and Megan before, as detailed in our near heatstroke experience on Trihardral, and it was a great feeling to top out casually in beautiful weather with more than enough water to go around. Three short, but very awkward, raps later we were on the ground and sorting our gear in the small flat section just below the belay area for the climbs. I reminisced on how much more crack climbing there was than I remembered, and how enjoyable the Herbstier parts of the route had been. We’d even found someone’s lost phone in the chimney section of pitch 3. I always try to savor a climbing day where the vibes are consistently good and everything seemingly goes just right, especially given how rare that feels, and this was a great example of those kinds of days. 

A classic Will belay spot.

We walked out amidst the cholla and browning grapevines next to First Creek, and I was thinking back on our encounters with burros and bighorn sheep, wondering when I might be favored with another moment shared with the true denizens of the places I hold so dear. Maybe next time, or the time after that. Either way, I can wait.

First Creek.