Mason Earle sends Stingray

Black Diamond athlete Mason Earle chased warm temperatures to Joshua Tree where he quickly ticked the third free ascent of the classic test-piece finger crack Stingray (5.13+).





Photos by Ally Coconis

Salt Lake City in December. Cold air sinks down into the city. When a week goes by without a storm, the clean mountain air slowly becomes laden with particulate pollution. It’s time to bail.

I talked my buddy Brad Gobright into a Joshua Tree mission. Weather.gov quickly revealed the daytime temps to be over 30 degrees warmer than SLC, so we pack up my station wagon and head south. I was really excited to run around the desert in a t-shirt, soloing easy classics, but the main course would be Stingray (5.13+). Stingray lies on the steep north side of Iguana dome, in the Wonderland of Rocks. It’s a beautiful overhanging finger crack that splits the otherwise featureless dome. In May of 1988, a couple months before I was born, legendary Joshua Tree climber Mike Paul completed the first free ascent on top rope. It was cutting edge free climbing for the day. Mike continued to work the climb, hoping to lead it, until one day he hiked to the base to find the well-known Hidetaka Suzuki “hangin from my TCUs.” A mutual friend had tipped off Suzuki. Just a month after Mike’s TR, Suzuki scooped him for the first lead, on pre- placed gear. It was not until 2010 (to my knowledge) that Stingray saw another lead ascent, from Canadian Sonnie Trotter. Sonnie pieced the route together over 7 different sessions, redpointing the pitch on his first lead attempt. Sonnie confirmed the difficulty, saying it was the second hardest crack climb he had ever done.

Brad and I rolled into J-tree after failing to evade the entrance fee, and nabbed a coveted “A loop” campsite. Within ten minutes of un-packing the car I was petrified, down climbing some crumbly flare on the Old Woman. Jesus! Better go down Toe Jam next time. We made plans to go out to Stingray early the next morning. “I think I remember how to get there,” Brad said. We got there… an hour and a half later. Congruent with today’s hard trad climbing standards, we immediately set up a top-rope, and began unlocking the burly moves. It felt good. It hurt good. I love the feeling of campusing up a finger crack—only a square inch of finger jammed in the fissure, feet smeared on nothing. Pure distilled pulling. Most of the locks on Stingray are only big enough to accept the first knuckle, and the crux involves several big, one-arm lock offs between jams. My first top-rope burn inspired confidence. I figured out a sequence fit for a king and was able to dial in where to place the finicky gear. Light began to fade as soon as Brad finished up his session, and we called it a day.

The peculiar thing about Stingray is that over two-thirds of the climbing is completely manufactured. Where the crack was too small to accept even the most petite ladyfingers, comfy locks have been strategically bored into the seam with the use of pitons. Chipping is seriously out of vogue these days, especially for trad climbing, and I believe that it should never be considered an option. That said, whoever put Stingray under the hammer back in the dark ages did a good job, and it climbs really well. That’s all I have to say about that.

While Hiking back out to Stingray I mulled the moves over in my head. I didn’t want to say it, but I knew if I climbed well and didn’t punt, I had a good chance of sending. I warmed up with another tope-rope burn and put the finishing touches on my beta. I racked up in the sun—.4 on the left, .3 on the right, blue/yellow offset on the left, and so on. I started up and climbed smoothly through the crux. My right arm became pumped as I struggled with a key placement. I made it to the rest hold at two-thirds height, awkwardly groping the edge with one hand while trying to shake out the other. I continued on, reached the massive jug at the top and clipped the chains. I was really psyched to get it—especially on my third try. Stingray had been on my tick list ever since I saw a photo of the emaciated Suzuki charging up the tiny jams. Two days later, Brad fell on the second to last move when his foot slipped off an insecure smear. I have no doubt that he’ll send it. As for me, I’m trying to find an excuse to head south again, as soon as possible.

-Mason Earle

