Gallup, New Mexico is an interesting place. It sits in a dusty corner of the Colorado Plateau, not far from the Arizona state line. For travelers, it is a gas stop on the way to Albuquerque. Another Route 66 town, her stretch of the mother road was rendered obsolete by I-40. Pick up some fake moccasins, and buy some discounted illegal fireworks at highway rest stops. The landscape is typical of this part of the world, with gently rolling hills, windswept savannah, and the odd juniper here and there.
Gallup is a border town. It sits on the border of the Dine (Navajo) reservation. Consequently, Gallup’s population is primarily Native American. This will be immediately apparent to the outsider, who may be bewildered to stumble into the Gallup flea market, where knock off silver is sold right along side Piccadilly. Ranchers offload gnawing goats in the parking lot where locals come and park their pick up trucks. Be sure to pick up some roast mutton and fry bread-a Rez favorite.
If you’re just passing through, Gallup doesn’t seem that special. It is dry, and dirty, and doesn’t seem like a place that you would want to stick around for too long. To the rock climber, Gallup might just be another point on the map on the way to the Enchanted Tower, or the Sandias. Yet, for those willing to look, Gallup has rock.
Mentmore
Maybe you’re desperate, or just bored. Whatever the reason, you want to rope up. Tucked away in the hills north of Gallup is a curious crag. It is small, dirty, but full of potential. To reach it, take back roads. You will drive past gas stations, and junkyards full of port-a-potty’s. Make a left, then a right. Turn onto a dirt road, and around the corner is Mentmore. The drive reminded me of Arizona’s Promised Land , another crag tucked behind unassuming hills.
The first thing I see is a 15 foot high cliff band spray painted with my name. I am flattered that I receive such a warm welcome to Mentmore. This bit of vandalism is just the first in the sequence of refuse and neglect maring Gallup’s premier crag. Drive 500 feet further on the rutted out dirt road, and it becomes apparent that Mentmore is less a climbing area, and more of a dumping ground. Locals come here to shoot guns, drive trucks, and dump trash. Climbing is a secondary pursuit. Broken glass litters the ground at the base of every line, and many of the start holds are covered in graffiti.
Truth be told, there is not much else to do in Gallup. It is the largest city for 100 miles in each direction. I can’t say how climbers discovered Mentmore, but some enterprising locals decided to rope up, and throw on some bolts. Mentmore features over 100 routes, the majority of them being sport. There are some traditional routes in the mix. I did not bring my rack, so I did not get to sample the trad climbing. The sport routes are well bolted, with thoughtful clipping stances up good lines.
Mentmore’s rock quality is decent. Of the two lines we climbed, there was little to no choss. We were not at all weary of holds breaking. The style is reminiscent of Red Rocks. Cross bedded sandstone, weathered to form splitter cracks, overhangs, flakes, and slab. There are plenty of knobs, crimps, and jugs to play around on. Unlike red rocks, the rock is not a brilliant red and gold. Maybe it was the overcast day, but Mentmore’s colors are drabs of brown and khaki.
This crag has a lot of character. Where else can you find quality lines peppered with bullet holes? If one felt so inclined, they could make these into shallow mono pockets. Bring a large caliber firearm, and make your own route called High Caliber (5.12b). Mentmore is located in a shallow valley with train tracks running through the middle. Every so often, a freight train would rumble through. More often, pickup trucks full of bored locals would pass by and heckle the climbers. Place this crag a few hundred miles west, and you would have a popular, quality cliff. Here, it is a collection of good sport routes and cracks left to degrade.
We only had time to climb two routes. A slabby 5.8 that I don’t remember the name of, and Flakes Don’t Fail Me Now (5.10b). It was windy and cold, and a rain storm was rolling in. Both were fun, decent routes, and neither would be out of place at Red Rocks, or maybe Utah. Belayers needed to be mindful of the broken glass. I gander that folks would set up bottles for target practice. Eyeing four lines on an overhang, I found myself standing next to a broken CRT television. Out of sight, gunshots could be heard around the corner, well in range of an errant ricochet.
Mentmore is worth a visit, if only for the experience. This is not a crag where climbers leave around dog poop and cigarette butts. Instead, the few who do climb here do so with affection. Despite the trash and the gunfire, climbing here is treasured. Someone even went so far as to craft a small guidebook for the area. The routes here deserve an earnest look, and can be more than just a dirty crag to tide climbers over.
I’m tempted to make the three hour drive to Mentmore. I could drive the same time in other directions and be at better crags, in prettier places. Still, Mentmore is the ugly duckling. Beneath it’s ruffled feathers is something good, something worth climbing. It represents a part of climbing that has always spurred inspiration, in that those so inclined will seek out the nooks and crannies. I liken it to skateboarders finding pools and rails to skate, or discovering something special in a second hand store. Mentmore, and the dozens, if not hundreds of crags like it, are an essential element of the spirit of our sport.
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What a great article. Thank you so much. Mentmore is filled with character, im glad you was able to find that. There is going to be a Crag Clean Up put on by the Access Fund and the American Alpine Club the last week of August 2018!