Red Rocks Approach, Las Vegas, NV

Red Rocks Approach

Anthony J. Buettner

Chris and I had been rock climbing in the desert outside of Las Vegas at a formation of formidable cliffs and canyons called Red Rocks. We had completed several warm up climbs the day before our planed approach up Oak Creek Canyon to a route called Rainbow Buttress. Named, as far as I could tell, for the bands of different colored rock running parallel to each other and arching across the main buttress. The guide book describes the approach as strenuous and taking approximately 2 hours. Knowing there would be several route finding problems to solve along the way, we left early in the morning giving us enough time to reach our destination, climb the buttress, and get back to our campsite by night fall.

We are quite aware of the dangers inherent to this region of the country: Rattlesnakes, Rockfall, Dehydration and Sudden Thunderstorms. So we packed accordingly , bringing with us the necessary gear we hoped we would never have to use: Snake Bite Kit, Trauma Bandages, Dressing, Raingear and plenty of Water.

On our merry way up the canyon we left the trail several times, bushwhacking our way along the canyon walls trying to avoid the boulder strewn and water filled canyon gully. This effort, much to our dismay, proved to be an error in judgment as it added an hour to our estimated arrival to the infamous “Ramp”.

The “Ramp”, as the guide book called it, is actually an enormous amphitheater shaped bowl dug out of the side of the canyon wall with about 70 feet of sheer wall cliff at its base. Although the guide book stated that this was an easy access ramp we failed to find the easy part and Chris voiced his concern about crossing this ramp unroped as any laps in concentration, such as spotting a snake or avoiding rock fall, could send us sliding to the bottom and over the cliffs edge to the boulder choked gully below. It was decided that we would simul-climb this ramp and I volunteered for the lead . We both tied into either end of our 50 meter rope and I set off towards the top rim of this bowl where an obvious crack system would accept my protective gear placement and conclude safely at the top. I reached the rim, placed my first piece and proceeded along the rim protecting my self with carefully placed gear until the rope was completely paid out. This signaled Chris to begin climbing by following my route and pulling the gear I had placed as he went along. Although the climbing was very easy once the risk was eliminated, this procedure added yet another hour to our scheduled rendezvous with the buttress. We began discussing whether we would have enough time to complete the climb.

Having only one rope we knew that once we committed to the climb we would not be able to make an easy retreat and the best way off the wall would be to climb to the top. We continued up the ramp and soon began to here thunder clap farther up the canyon reminding us of the potential for afternoon thunder showers. Chris and I looked at each other knowing that the odds against us had just increased. Within 300 feet of our intended destination , as I was walking several steps behind and to the left of Chris, paying close attention to the steps we were both taking, so as not to dislodge any loose rocks and keeping an ever alert eye out for the sun warming snakes quite prevalent in this area when I spotted a rattler within a step and a half of Chris. My instinctive response, to yell for him to stop, was instantaneously contradicted with my realization that by the time my warning would be understood he would be stepping on the snake, so I said nothing. I stopped and stared at the viper as Chris placed his foot within inches of the coiled snake and took two more steps forward. My expectation that the viper would strike and that I would have to administer first aid, then run for help, was instantly challenged as the snake slowly squirmed under the rock Chris had stepped on and tried to draw as much of his exposed body as physically possible under with him.

After Chris had walked several feet away I calmly asked him, while pointing at the ground, to turn around and look at what he had just did . He turned and looked down not understanding what I meant. He still did not see the snake camouflaged under the rock. I told him to look closer and, as he took two more steps back, his eyes grew to the size of Vegas Silver Dollars. He had truly dodged a bullet. He couldn’t believe that he had missed it. I cautiously walked around the snake and we proceeded to the base of the cliff, laughing nervously, while discussing what would have happened if....

The thunder increased in frequency and the aroma of moist air filled our olfactories as we stood at the base of this buttress contemplating the obvious poor quality, crumbling rock within the first pitch. We looked at each other, looked at the darkening sky, looked back towards the snake and cursed the ramp before deciding we would abandon our attempt at this wall and live to see another day.

I am not by nature a superstitious man but everything this day was telling us that the climbing gods were not on our side and we raced down the canyon in a feeble effort to out run the impending storm and the lightning that would come with it.

During our walk in the deluge of warm rain from the mouth of the canyon to our campsite I thought about our encounter with that snake and how morbidity disappointed I was at it’s seemingly cowardly reaction to our presence. My vision of the aggressive viper coiled for the strike, rattle shaking nervously was replaced by the feeling that we had interrupted this peaceful creature during his afternoon nap in the sun and that he wanted nothing to do with us. That snake taught me, that to truly be comfortable while in natures grasp, you need to experience it for yourself. Free from the over dramatized and romanticized versions you hear and read about.

To gain an accurate and true interpretation of the wonders and dangers in nature you need to play an active role, see it for yourself and pass your own judgments. The snakes response toward us could simply have been that his body temperature had not risen to an active level or that he was more interested in finding shelter before the on-coming storm. What ever the reason for his complacent attitude we were thankful that our societal based fears of the viper were unrealized and perhaps unwarranted. Being cautious of rattle snakes is a great idea but being fearful to the point of non-participation in the wonders of nature is unjustified.

The range of emotions realized from the moment I saw the snake until the time we were sitting back at camp laughing is the experience of nature and, in my opinion, worth all the risk.

It certainly beats the alternative.