Episode 44: Mission Possible
Lucho grew up in San Francisco’s Mission District with the belief that the only way to survive his neighborhood was with the protection of a gang. So, he did the most logical thing: he joined a gang. Lucho started hanging out on street corners along the 24th St. Corridor and the next few years of his life were filled with gang fights, crime, and some really bad decisions.
But finally, his mom intervened and an inner city kids wilderness backpacking trip led Lucho to rock climbing. He moved into his truck in Lee Vining just down from the Eastern Yosemite entrance and climbed with some guy named Cedar Wright.
For the Love of Climbing is presented by Patagonia. Additional support is from deuter USA, Gnarly Nutrition, Allez Outdoor, and Ocún.
Additional music is licensed by Music Bed.
Cover photo by Kika MacFarlane.
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EPISODE TRANSCRIPT:
(KATHY KARLO): This podcast is presented by Patagonia. Not bound by convention, Patagonia’s in business to save our home planet.
- This podcast is sponsored by deuter, one of the leading backpack brands that will help you hit the trails with confidence and comfort, but most importantly–your snacks.
deuter has a history of first ascents and alpine roots. Their head of product development even climbed Everest once, in jeans (hashtag not fake news.) deuter is known for fit, comfort, and ventilation. Founded in 1898, deuter believes in good fitting backpacks, so you can focus on way cooler things like puppies, pocket bacon, and gettin’ sendy, whether at the crag or in the alpine.
(FEMALE VOICE): Today we’re going to talk about “allez”. “Allez” means “come on!” in a way, or to encourage. Ok! We are done with the simple and normal uses of “allez”, now let’s cut to the chase:
(KATHY KARLO): Allez Outdoor Personal Care products are made by climbers for those who love the outdoors. Their rich and repairing ingredients for their skincare collection are inspired by desert landscapes, and their simple and recyclable packaging makes them eco-sustainable. Allez commits to protecting the open spaces that we love by partnering with the Access Fund and 1% for the Planet. That’s Allez Outdoor: “A-L-L-E-Z”). Allez Outdoor—made by climbers, for those who love the outdoors.
- This podcast gets support from Gnarly Nutrition, one of the leading protein supplements that tastes “whey” better than they need to, because they use quality natural ingredients. So, whether you’re a working mom who runs circles around your kids on weekends or an unprofessional climber trying to send that 5.13 in the gym, Gnarly Nutrition has all of your recovery needs.
The only question you need to ask yourself is: Are you a sucker for anything that tastes like chocolate ice cream? (Yeah, me neither.) Gnarly Nutrition is designed to enhance your progress—and taste like a milkshake, without all the crap.
(MALE VOICE): Ocún?
(bell dinging)
(FEMALE VOICE): No.
(MALE VOICE #2): Ocún?
(MALE VOICE #3): Nope.
(MALE VOICE #4): Ocún?
(MALE VOICE #3): Really?
(FEMALE VOICE #2): Ocún?
(NON-GENDERED VOICE): No!
(KK): Who is Ocún? More than prolific crack climbing gloves, Ocún has been making innovative gear engineered for climbing to improve your performance since 1998. Their climbing shoe designs are all original, developed and manufactured in Czech Republic and one hundred percent gender neutral. Beyond their sticky rubber, Ocún is renowned for their hardware, harnesses, and the biggest lightest crash pad on the market. Find your new favorite climbing shoes and accessories at Backcountry, Moosejaw, Camp Saver, and Amazon.
(LUCHO RIVERA): I’m in the talks right now of starting kind of a pay-what-you-can climbing gym in the Mission here. Mecia and I have always talked about starting our own gym or something like that and I don’t know if that would ever happen, but I have some people interested in bringing this idea to life—a lot like the Memphis Rox gym.
But when that sprouted up, I was like, “Oh! That idea I had long ago, it actually—it’s working!” You know? And I was really excited to know that something like that was working. And I totally believe that it could happen here in San Francisco or in the Bay Area, because I mean, there’s definitely a need for it.
(KK): Do you have a gym membership? What do you pay monthly for it? Does it come with a shower, coffee bar, and bougie co-work space?
With the rise of global climbing gyms popping up everywhere from Brooklyn to the Bay, prices have inevitably gone up. Indoor gyms are expensive to operate, from commercial real estate and property leasing to materials, insurance, staffing, and more. A lot of these costs get passed down to climbers.
Gyms often exist in populated areas, like cities, in order to make it financially viable. Basic rules of supply and demand still apply, folks. And the privilege to be able to afford a day pass and an oat milk latte is not understated—nor unappreciated. But as for those who might not be able to afford a monthly membership, this has become a huge barrier to the sport. Who gets access to these spaces?
Gyms like Memphis Rox changed the way we look at accessibility to climbing in a big way. They opened a gym in 2018 in one of the least likely places you might find climbers and instilled a “pay-what-you-can” ethic in order to challenge cultural, racial, ethnic, and socio-economic burdens.
(LR): I’ve worked in climbing gyms for a lot of my life. And so, I’ve seen that if you build it, they will come. But I always was like, “Oh, I wish it were open to other people.” I remember going to Mission Cliffs as a kid. And I say as a kid, but I was, at this point, a teenager and I had just learned about climbing from this Urban Pioneer program.
And I went in there and I still looked like a Mission District thug, you know? I totally was wearing all the clothes, had long hair, had the little mustache—I looked like a thug! I know what I looked like back then! And I didn’t really get a lot of love, you know? I went in there and I kinda felt not welcome and didn’t feel like I belonged.
And so, I really didn’t go back. And it wasn’t until I went to Yosemite Valley that I felt like I belonged somewhere because there was such a weird group of kids and climbers out there, and I felt really welcome in that community. But I didn’t feel welcome in the gym community, early on as a kid.
And so, I’ve always wanted to change that. And, at some point, I was like, “Oh, it would be so cool if you could have a gym where [it] would be welcome to anybody,”—and I mean, I’ve had so many different ideas. Like, kinda funded by the city or maybe some big corporation would wanna get involved.
But something where the kids would be able to come in and they would be provided gear to use for the day and they would be able to climb and just get a sense of something different in their life. And climbing really brings a pretty positive community together, whereas [I feel like it’s] totally different than the community that they might be involved in— which is like, neighborhood street gangs.
(ALEX HONNOLD) (to himself): Ok, I’m Alex Honnold. You’re listening to the love of climbing podcast. It’s a funny, sad, somewhat uncomfortable podcast—
(louder)
I was like, “Wow, this is the opposite of my podcast. But, you know, here we go!”
(laughs)
(upbeat music)
“I’m Alex Honnold and you’re listening to For the Love of Climbing—”
—is it “to the”? Or “to—“ Do you say “to For the Love of Climbing Podcast”?
“I’m Alex Honnold and you’re listening to For the Love of Climbing Podcast.”
Yeah. Yeah, I see it.
“You’re listening to For the Love of Climbing Podcast. This is not a climbing podcast. Well, sorta. It’s a funny, sad, and somewhat uncomfortable podcast about choosing vulnerability. Here’s the show.”
Easy cheesy!
(LR): So, yeah. I’m in the very initial stages of getting all that figured out with some other folks. And I think in the Mission District, it would be kinda cool.
My name’s Lucho Rivera and—wait, what did you—
—ok! My name’s Lucho Rivera and I’m from San Francisco. I pretty much climb primarily in California—in Yosemite and the Sierra Nevada and the Bay Area. Kind of just trying to climb as much as possible and still trying to pursue that dream of full-time climbing as much as I can!
Probably have to go back to work at some point here, soon. But, at this point, I’m just riding the fun train, trying to get out and climb as much as I can. [I’m] trying to get the most out of my body while I’m still somewhat youthful!
(laughs)
(KK): For clarity, this episode was recorded during Covid times and Lucho has a job. This podcast is in no way endorsing not getting an education, kids, and not getting jobs. Jobs are good. This podcast is a job.
Also, is there like, an unspoken timeframe where dirtbagging and not working is “socially acceptable”? I’ve always just kinda wondered this.
(LR): The high school program that first introduced me to climbing and the outdoors was this program called the Urban Pioneer Program, which is no longer in existence. But another program called Get Out and Learn sprouted up right after and it’s more experience-based than just books and classroom teaching.
And so, they took us doing volunteer projects around the city with other public schools. We would run ropes courses, we would do CPR and first aid training, go backpacking, rappelling, climbing. And that’s kind of what really opened up my eyes to the wilderness and the outdoors as a city kid.
And the Get Out and Learn Program is based on the Urban Pioneer. Two different names, same goal—get the inner city kids outdoors and have them kind of think differently about education and how to learn.
And then, after that, all I wanted to do was just get out of the city and climb peaks in the Sierra and somehow, that kind of led me to Yosemite Valley—and that’s just kinda where I stayed for most of my youth.
(KK): A lot has changed for wilderness education programs for at-risk youth, such as they legally can no longer leave your kids alone in the woods to fend for themselves. But the bedrock of these school and curriculum-based programs meant to promote emotional and physical well-being in kids was onto something.
Most of us already understand the beneficial impacts of being in nature. As climbers and adult-ish people, we know this in our core.
Experts believe that kids today face more challenges than ever, with a rise in school violence and mass shootings, awareness surrounding issues like mental health, racism, and gender, substance use—and an addiction to basically any screen we can hold in our hands.
Around thirty percent of grade school kids in the U.S. suffer from chronic health conditions, as well as a general concern associated with poor behavioral, social, economic, and environmental determinants of health. But more time spent in green spaces encourages more than social skills and connectivity—and it opened a whole new world to Lucho that impacted him long after his high school days.
(LR): I went back, year after year, throughout my twenties and in my thirties, to staff for their wilderness trips. And I always thought that it was a really cool thing that they would bring their alumni back.
We would go down to Big Sur area—Los Padres Wilderness, and we would go out to the Emigrant Wilderness in Stanislaus—like, in the Sierra. So, two completely different places in California—both pretty rugged. Both really beautiful, in their own way. And these trips were between eight to twelve days long. So, it was a really significant time out in the wilderness.
And so, I loved staffing these trips and trying to be a good role model for these kids and sharing my stories with them. At the time, I was climbing a ton in Yosemite, and so, I could kinda blow ‘em away with climbing Half Dome fast or something or being up on El Cap or something I think a lotta kids never thought would be possible for them. But having someone be in their shoes and then evolve probably, I hope, gave them a little bit more motivation to get out of the routine of their city life.
These students in these programs were like, I wanna say, kind of the outcasts in their classroom. They weren’t quite making it. Some of them were really creative and some of them just didn’t like sitting in a classroom for a bunch of hours a day.
And they were just all special in their own way but didn’t really relate to traditional school life. And it was really cool to watch these kids all have to work together in the wilderness. They would resist it, of course. And then, by the end, there would be so much bonding going on and the most unlikely kids out of the group would become best friends.
It was super diverse. You know, you had kids from all over the city and so, totally different backgrounds. And they would all kinda hear about this program one way or another because they were at the point where they were gonna either get put in a continuation program, which is basically high schools that you only go to for half the day. They give you some homework to do and most of the kids don’t do it, and you end up getting up a GED.
And so, with this program, you could gain your credits through volunteer work. And the teachers really, you could tell, cared about the students. There weren’t many of these teachers, but they would dedicate so much of themselves to the students and you could tell they had a lot of love for the kids.
(KK): Every year, roughly 750,000 students who drop out of high school try and improve their educational and employment opportunities by taking the General Educational Development test, or GED, long considered to be the equivalent of a high school diploma. It’s a credential for students looking for a second chance.
For many, receiving a traditional diploma is a rite of passage. But for others, it’s not an option for a variety of reasons, and often, has little to do with learning ability.
Programs like Urban Pioneers and Get Out and Learn give students who might otherwise not have the opportunity to jump-start their future and one of the key differences is having mentors who empower students to become ethical thinkers, agents of change, and more emotionally attuned.
(LR): It was the same thing, year after year—every time I would go back and staff for these school groups, these kids were looking for something different in their life. And hopefully, I propelled them to think outside the box—which is exactly what I needed, at the time.
I grew up in San Francisco’s Mission District. I had a really blessed childhood, you know? Like, my dad wasn’t around but my mom definitely filled the role of both mother and father. I feel super lucky to have had a loving parent my entire life.
My grandpa was always there, you know, even though he was really old school, he taught me a lot. And so, I really respected his role that he took on since my father wasn’t around.
And, at a certain point, I feel like, a lot of the friends I had made in elementary school going into high school were from the neighborhood. They were just kids that I grew up with and we all kind of hung out together and, eventually, a lot of them were influenced by gangs.
And it didn’t seem like a bad thing—I kind of knew, at a certain point, that it probably wasn’t very good. There was one moment in my childhood, I think in sixth grade when I was walking home, and these kids stopped me and they wouldn’t let me pass.
So, I went around them and I had this weird “don’t show fear” mentality. And so, I walked past one of them and he hit my shoulder. And it just seemed like they were really looking to mess with somebody, you know?
I didn’t think about that at the time. I just kinda was trying to hold my ground. But I was like this tiny, little kid and they were slightly older than me, but they were still teenagers—punks from the neighborhood, really. And one of them hit me, and it was kind of a big surprise ‘cause they were just looking to start a fight.
It really affected me ‘cause I thought I was immune to it, but I wasn’t. At the time, my sister was dating this kid who was involved with the street gangs and she told him about it. He kind of went and sought this dude out and was like, “Don’t fuck with him ever again.”
And I saw the power of neighborhood involvement and thought it would be a good idea to hang out with people that might provide some sort of protection for me. And so, I started hanging out with a lot of these kids who were already involved or starting to get involved in these neighborhood street gangs.
The summer rolled around and I started hanging out with these people more. They would hang out with the older crowds that sold drugs and just were basically up to no good. Slowly, we started looking up to these people because I think a lot of us were searching for male role models in our lives.
A lot of us didn’t have our parents or dads around. Some of us came from super crappy home lives, which I wasn’t one of those people, but bad choices were made and we were just kids. You know? We were just entering our teen years.
And we were kind of a little branch of this other, bigger gang. And then, we’d claimed colors and that got us into trouble. It was just really messy and I realized within a few years—I was like, “Oh, I made the wrong choice.”
(KK): You know, people don’t realize how important decisions can be until they start making the wrong ones. Lucho wasn’t all the way out of his depth yet. There was a fair amount of commitment at this point, but he could still leave—the problem was, he didn’t know how.
(LR): I wasn’t in too deep, yet, and I was like, “If I continue down this path, I’m going to get to a point where it might be irreversible. I could get injured. I could get shot at.” You know, we had been in street brawls and witnessed people next to me get shot because someone from the other group had pulled out a gun—
—that was supposed to be just a chain and a bat fight or whatever—someone actually pulled out a pistol and we had to rush this person to the hospital. Things like that were happening and I was like, “This is bad. Like, I never envisioned this.”
And so, at a certain point, I reached out to the one person I really trusted—was my mom. I was like, “What do I do? I want out—and I don’t know how to get out.”
And then, I remember even asking someone that I thought I trusted [for] their advice. I think he was nineteen or twenty, and I was about fourteen at the time. And I thought he would give me good advice and understand. He had a newborn and I expected a different answer.
I was like, “Hey, man. I wanna finish high school. I wanna do other things with my life.” And it was super cold, what he told me. He was just like, “The only way you’re leaving is dead.”
And I was just like, “Ohh—“
(laughs)
“—not what I expected to hear. Mm, ok. Fuck.”
(KK): We’re gonna take a short break. We’ll be back.
— The scale of climate change can make an individual feel hopelessly small, and Molly Kawahata knows this feeling well. As a former climate advisor to the Obama White House and an alpine climber with dreams of big summits, Molly dedicated her life to taking on seemingly insurmountable challenges. But it’s her personal struggle with mental health that gives her a profound understanding of how to harness the power of the mind to create change.
“The Scale of Hope” follows Molly as she prepares for an expedition in the Alaska Range while working to create a new climate narrative that centers her favorite question—What can I do to help? It’s a story about struggle, hope, and what it will take to solve the greatest issue of our time.
Go to Patagonia.com/climbing, or visit the Patagonia YouTube channel to watch “The Scale of Hope”, streaming now.
— Ok, so—Lucho’s in a gang. And his mom knows—it’s not like she just doesn’t know her son. They have a good relationship and she loves him, but she’s a busy mama! And she told him what she thought and helped where she could, but ultimately, it was going to be up to Lucho to make the executive decision to “phase himself out”.
(LR): I mean, she saw me with red rags hanging out of my pocket or only wearing white, red, and black. She knew what it was about and she would try to tell me and I wasn’t listening. And so, eventually, I stopped hanging out a lot and I would get questioned for it when I would actually run into some of these folks that I would hang out with.
And at that same time, I was doing really poorly at school. It was San Francisco School of the Arts, and you either have to audition if you’re a musician or performing artist, or if you’re a visual artist like I was, you had to make a portfolio and show them why you wanted to be in this school.
I had worked really hard to get into this school and I was totally screwing it up. By my junior year, they were like, “We’re gonna have to hold you back a grade. You should consider leaving.” They didn’t want to hold me back, and they didn’t want me there anymore, either.
And I was acing my art class and failing all my other academic classes. And even at the time, I knew it was a big disappointment to my mom—and I was pretty disappointed in myself. And I felt like a bad kid. They made me feel like a bad kid.
The school counselor wasn’t very supportive. He had decided that he just didn’t want me in the school anymore, and I felt that. And so, he had suggested I go to this continuation program that was a block away from here.
All the neighborhood gang kids went there, and they went in for three hours a day and they gave them tons of homework that no one ever did. And so, if you get through the semester and just show up, you would get a GED or something at the end of the year.
And I knew it wouldn’t help me and I knew it would just put me on a darker path, and I’d be hanging out with all these kids who I was trying to avoid at this point. I think I told my mom, “If I go there, it’s just gonna get worse for me. I can’t go there.”
And so, I ended up going to this other continuation program and the teacher was just trying to get through his day and would put movies on and not really engage with the kids. You know, you could tell the teacher was just over it.
And then, she heard about this high school program called the Urban Pioneers where they took them into the wilderness and they ran ropes courses and they did volunteer work. And so, she’s like, “You should apply for that.” So, we went in together and I applied for the following semester. That’s where it all changed for me.
(KK): And it was a welcome change. Through volunteer work, Lucho saw the importance of being of service, and that carried well into his adult life. Not only do outdoor education and alternative programs engage kids with community, but they help students develop a sense of place and civic attitude and behavior.
According to a study by the American Institute of Research, students perform better when outdoor education is integrated into curriculum. The study reports that students experience increased standardized test scores, improved in-school behavior and attendance, and overall enhanced academic achievement. And being outside is just really fucking cool.
(LR): I could tell from day one that the teacher—he had a lot of love for the students. He would pick out the bullies early on and put them in their place and make sure that everyone felt included and loved. And it was really evident that this guy cared and was trying really hard to get everyone to change in a more positive way.
It was something that all the kids saw and there was this incredible bond formed between teacher and student. And it wasn’t just one student and the teacher—it was everyone in the class loved this guy. And it was so cool to see that for the first time, as a student.
I feel like, as kids get older and a little more independent, I think it’s a little harder to reach them, and this guy really had the touch. He knew how to get through to the kids and make ‘em feel loved. And he knew that a lot of the kids came from different backgrounds. Some of them came from super loving homes—other ones had totally non-existent home life.
And he really made it a point to be their friend and their teacher and a good role model and mentor. He picked those kids out, specifically, and would work harder and stop at no end to be that person that they needed in their life.
And so, he had kinda compiled a team of other teachers, and they basically followed his ideals. So, I think it really worked. It was part of the public school system in San Francisco, but they hated it. They didn’t like the fact that he was taking these kids out into the wilderness—they thought it was super dangerous.
Whenever there would be school board hearings about shutting the program down, all his students would show up and have his back and be like, “Dude! Crossing the street or hanging out on the street corners is more dangerous than walking through the wilderness for ten days.”
But you couldn’t convince a lot of school board members, and eventually, they shut the program down because some kids got hurt on a trip. Shortly thereafter, one of his teachers who had worked with him for a few years started up a different program under a different name, and it was kind of exactly like Urban Pioneers.
And, unfortunately, he died in a motorcycle accident. He was like dirt biking, and so, other teachers stepped in to continue his work—teachers that had worked under Wayne MacDonald, who was the founder of the Urban Pioneer Program. So, they were all connected. They were all kinda the same people who had Wayne’s vision, really.
I had gone back to staff for Urban Pioneers and for this Get Out and Learn Program. They kinda tamed down their wilderness trips—they’re not twelve-day backpacking trips anymore. Now, they’re a little shorter and they don’t go off into the wilderness. They go a little more locally—to Point Reyes and stuff like that.
I think that was the big issue—was taking these kids out for that long! And we would have these solos where the teacher would be like, “Alright! You kids are gonna get yourself back to basecamp.” And they stopped doing that.
But it was so cool! Because it was just like, “Ok! Here we are. It’s up to us to get back to basecamp now and to get back home.” It was so rad. I’m glad I got to experience it when it was still like that.
(KK): Lucho’s whole world had suddenly been flipped upside down. Through Outward Bound, he received a scholarship that took him on a twenty-two-day backpacking trip, which in turn, introduced him to outdoor rock climbing for the first time. Further proof that hiking is a slippery slope, folks.
(LR): I mean, just seeing the Sierra Crest for the first time—and I was just like, “I just wanna be out here!” I never knew any of that existed. After that, I started learning about different grades of climbing and I was like, “What are all these numbers? What does it all mean?”
And a couple of the kids from the program were like, “Let’s go climbing!” And so, we would all throw ourselves at rock climbs around the Bay Area and then, eventually would go to Yosemite and try to throw ourselves at the easy climbs there and would epic super hard.
We had the most minimal racks and stuff like that. And we pulled together the four quickdraws and the set of nuts and try to tackle these climbs—
(laughs)
—and we didn’t know what we were doing, but we were learning, you know?
We had tried to do The Nutcracker and had failed multiple times, and this was one of our failure days. And we were walking back and we saw this Yosemite guide who started the YCA—the Yosemite Climbing Association, Ken Yaeger. And he was a Yosemite guide at the time and he was giving a one-on-one class on how to place protection.
And me and my buddy sat down at a rock so we could listen in and kinda get some free beta! And I noticed that he saw us, and got louder and projected his voice even more. Oh, it was so cool.
(pauses)
To tell him this story years later, as a friend—it meant a lot to him. And we learned a little bit that day of constrictions and this is how you place a nut and this is how you place a cam! And it was super cool. And so, that was one of my earliest memories.
And so, I kinda made it a point to save up some money and take my summer off to spend it up there in Yosemite. It was the year 2000, putzing around Camp 4 looking for climbing partners, and this kid from Santa Cruz was like, “You should come back to the search and rescue site. There’s this guy back there. You and him should link up ‘cause he’s looking for partners,” or whatever.
And Cedar just wanted people to belay him on his projects and I was just looking to climb with anybody and learn as much as I could. And so, for years, I would just go belay Cedar and follow him up anything and had super bad technique but scrap my way up these walls with him.
I remember, at one point, being way up high on Higher Cathedral Rock with him and just looking around and being like, “I should be scared right now, but this is nowhere near as scary as being in the neighborhood!”
(laughs)
I was like, “This is actually super exciting and rad!” I remember thinking that. “This is nowhere near as scary as being in the Mission at night.” I remember that, and I carried that thought for the longest time.
And I was part of the Yosemite Monkeys that we called ourselves. We were part of this crew that looked up to the Stone Masters and thought we were the new generation and would sleep in the boulders behind Camp 4 and be there, year after year.
And [we’d] do the whole Stone Master routine of being in the Valley from spring to fall and then, go to Joshua Tree in the winters and climb all the stuff that the Stone Masters did. And it was some really good times throughout my twenties. And it was always the same crew. It just felt like so much love and it was like, family—you know?
And eventually, people moved on. They got real jobs and not these—
(laughs)
—gigs just to keep climbing and stuff like that. And people had families and new friends were made and friends were lost. And so, over the years, a lot of it changed, but a lot of it’s also stayed the same. For me, it’s been really hard to stay away from Yosemite since it changed my life so much, so many years ago.
I love watching the new communities kind of roll in and find the exact same thing that I found years ago. It’s still there. And the whole mentorship thing—it’s still very much alive. And the community is still so strong. It’s grown a lot, but I feel like they get the same awe and impact that you do when you spend your first few years there, kind of exploring different parts of the park and all that stuff.
There are a lot of other people along the way that showed me less climbed places, like Hetch Hetchy—that no one really climbs at. You know, and different parts of the Sierra. And then, I felt like most of my friends are out there, or most of my friends were made out in the Sierra or the Eastern Sierra.
I honestly don’t have a lot of friends in San Francisco. I don’t hang out with a lot of people here—it’s my girlfriend and I and my mom and my sister, and other than that, I think most of my extended family—my friends—are in the Sierra. I call my climber friends my family because they are. I’ve grown up with them and had so many experiences with them.
It’s really cool to know the different parts of the park and have this history there and, for me, I think, I just really love to be able to still climb a lot of the stuff that I used to climb and wonder how long I’ll continue to be able to do that.
And I love having the community there. It ranges from twenty-year-olds all the way up to sixty-something-year-olds, and all of them are my friends and I look up to all of them in different ways. There’s so much love and I think the climbing is incredible, but the community is such a big part of it, at this point.
I think what drives me at this point is still doing the one thing that I think I really found my niche in, in Yosemite—was new routes. I think that was the part of climbing, for me, instead of just repeating routes, for me, it was new routing. I was able to tap into my creative side.
The feeling of being the first person on this part of the wall or on this formation has never gone away. And feeling like, “Oh, I’m the first person to climb this!”
And, at one point, I feel like I was doing walls in a day. That was kinda the fad when I first arrived in Yosemite—doing stuff in a push. How fast can you climb these walls, you know? And so, a lot of it was done through aid climbing and free climbing—a combo. And as much as I love wall climbing and vertical camping, I think free climbing has always been at the heart of my climbing.
And then, on top of that, new routing—the discovery of places that people don’t look at and the whole creative process. And at a certain point, I felt like I had worked really hard at refining that and learning from first ascensionists who have been climbing in Yosemite for forty years.
A friend of mine, Dan McDevitt who’s put up tons of routes in Yosemite for years—learning from him, how to find good routes and to create routes that are really well done. You know, I feel like Cedar and I would just free climb stuff, but not really put in the proper hardware a lot of times or we would just be like, “We freed it!” and not bother with thinking about how the second ascent would go.
And, at a certain point, I started realizing, “Oh, it makes a big difference how a route is put up.” And especially if you plan on having people repeat the route. You wanna make it good.
And there were other first ascensionists, like Sean Jones, who really influenced my way of thinking of how to put up routes, too. There was a point in time [where] I had this old school mentality and I was like, “The less bolts, the better!” And sometimes, that’s true. You find a perfect crack line and you don’t wanna make it into a sport route.
But I feel like most of the climbing in Yosemite, at this point—a lot of those pure cracks have been done and we’re kind of doing the stuff in between. Sometimes, that stuff ends up being a lot harder and there’s face sections that connect these crack systems.
And so, instead of making it run out and scary—there’s plenty of those routes to do in Yosemite still—I feel like modern routes should be put up with a more modern approach. And with so many climbers out there, now—especially transitioning from gym to outside, you wanna put up routes that people are gonna repeat and enjoy and not be scared on.
I think most of my routes have been relatively safe, but there was in particular on Fifi Buttress—the Romulan Warbird which is a Dan McDevitt aid route that he told me, “You should go and free climb this thing!” And it turned out to be an amazing free climb!
But back when I had freed that thing, I had this mentality of “less bolts”. And so, there’s routes like that that I still feel like, “Oh, I can add a bolt here,” because you’re placing gear behind loose rock on one of the pitches or you’re relying on a pin that’s no longer there. You know, things like that.
So, it doesn’t have to be over-bolted, but it should be fun and safe, and if it’s going to be hard, it should be done well.
(KK): And things done well take time. Ideas that don’t necessarily happen in these moments of “aha” but instead, slowly over time, are sometimes the ones worth pursuing.
Lucho’s time in the Valley juxtaposed with his adolescent years in the streets helped spark an idea that has the power to change the lives of at-risk youth for generations to come. We hope to see it.
(LR): Years ago, when Mecia and I were looking into starting our own gym, we were kinda like, “How are we gonna write a business proposal?” Neither of us knew what we were doing. She has the background of working at a climbing gym and knowing how it all works financially, and I was a routesetter for a number of years and helped build one of the gyms here in San Francisco. So, I’ve seen it go up from an empty shell, all the way up to the walls and stucco being put on and the first routes being put up.
And so, I know that we can get it built and the two of us combined just need someone else to help—well, we need many people to help fund it. But we need someone to write a really killer business proposal and really get that part off the ground and find the money for it.
But it would probably be like a co-work space slash non-profit gym slash store. Like, selling used gear for a way discounted price. And who knows how it’s really gonna end up.
I think in the beginning, I was just thinking of a non-profit that just doesn’t turn anyone away. If you wanna come in and learn how to set routes, come on in when we’re setting routes. Or you can be a mentor to younger kids.
And it would just be a cool place for kids to spend their after school and stuff like that, especially if they don’t really have family that can be there for them—either their parents aren’t around or if they’re working and the kids just feel a little lost. And it would give them a little more direction, I think.
That’s kinda my vision. It would be cool to have a lot of kids who wouldn’t otherwise ever walk into a gym come in and not get turned away and start climbing. You know, they don’t have to love it, but some may end up really loving it and taking it a lot further. ‘
(KYLE MCEVOY AND EZZY RAPPING): Sometimes, sometimes I lack belief in myself
Bounded my trauma
My problems drowned in despair in distilled vodka
Do I love me, despite my flaws what’s the first verse
Am I talking to me or talking to y’all I’m befuddled
A tiger without claws, a lion a tightened muzzle
Tear myself down in the barrel with only a lion’s rebuddle
Tears of a warrior, a persona, surrounded by courage
I’m such a grown up but wait hold up
Did I know all the answers before the questions were posed
Is this all just a test on the step of destiny’s door
Made a wrong turn somewhere
But maybe that’s where I had to go
Maybe all my flaws isn’t really flaws at all
(KK): You’re listening to For the Love of Climbing Podcast. A huge thank you to deuter, one of the leading backpack brands that will help you hit the trails with confidence and comfort. And a big thank you to Gnarly Nutrition for supporting this podcast and the messages that we share. Gnarly Nutrition supports a community of vulnerability and equality—and tastes like a milkshake, without all the crap. A big shout out to Allez Outdoor for supporting the Access Fund and 1% for the Planet. And to Ocún—innovative gear engineered for climbing to improve your performance.
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