I was stunned by the sheer enormity of the east Texas desert. There is vast open space, and the interesting bulbous rock formations seem to jut out of nowhere. It was my second outdoor climbing trip, and my curiosity as a climber was immediately ignited – How high are these boulders? What will the rock feel like? More importantly, what will my skin feel like afterwards?
The wait for North 
Celebrating Birthdays in the Park. My first visit to Hueco Tanks
Climbers usually seem surprised by the unique protocols Hueco Tanks State Park. The regulations are strict with limited visitors on each mountain and guided access only on others. As a new climber however, I didn’t mind. I was happy just to visit. The added price of a guide in addition to the park fees weren’t ideal, but after watching the required video for the park, I knew immediately why these regulations were in place.
The history of Hueco Tanks* is extensive with humans possibly inhabiting the area for about 11,000 years. It’s unique agriculture has drawn multiple people throughout history and their presence in the park is still evident today. The first indication of human history was determined through the presence of Paleo-Indians of the Folsom culture (Folsom points were a type of spearhead associated with mammoth and bison bones). After this period and around 6000 B.C., the Archaic Indians were reported in the area through art depicting abstract shapes to petroglyphs of hunting scenes. The Jornada Mongollon Tradition was marked by advancement in farming practices and pictographs representing Quetzalcoatl, a dualistic diety of Meso-american culture. Many of the paintings from this period are still preserved through famous Thaloc figures and masks revealing stories of Katchina rituals. Hueco Tanks is one of the few places in North America where these masks are so highly concentrated. The Mescalero Apaches also visited the area and their presence is marked by ceremonial paintings which include snakes, horses, and dancing. Today, three tribes currently reside in the area near El Paso each with their own history of the current land Hueco Tanks now encompasses, the Tigua, the Comanche, and the Kiowa. These tribes still hold spiritual ceremonies in the park today and up until a few years ago, were allowed in the park free of cost. All of this history can be experienced through a simple guided trip – a day walking in the footsteps of whole civilizations which came before us.
The beauty of Hueco Tanks has drawn me back each year, but it’s complicated. It’s one of the few places I feel at home as a climber. The warm smell of tortillas and champurrado, the buzz of neon lights against a blank sky, and the beats of tejano music pulsating out of windows of nearby cars. Este es mi hogar – a mestizo state. It is this passion for Texas, and these often neglected borderlands that also drives my frustration towards Hueco Tanks. Each year since my first, I have encountered guides and visiting climbers who have repeatedly complained, blatantly disrespected, or spread and fostered an ignorant perspective on the regulations in place at the park. These attitudes are viral, spreading from one salty climber to the next.
As a woman of color in a park which at the time had very few visible locals present, I felt immediately isolated from a community I believed I was welcome in. Being often the only climber of Mexican descent on a tour, meant that this part of me was invisible to everyone else, not even my brown skin served to break the conversation. My own cultural identity erased by my climbing identity, it seemed assumed that our values on this topic would naturally align. They did not.
I craved for a crag where climbers were grateful for the opportunity to interact on such sacred land. I wanted them to share the pride that I had watching the video, knowing that we could experience a place where generations of people prospered for years before John Sherman was even born. I wanted them to feel connected. I realize this view is idyllic but also not entirely impossible, nor am I alone in feeling this way. I’ve learned over the years, especially in one of my most recent visits that this perspective is shared by many communities. It’s not a perfect system, but the cultural uses of land brings popularity from different groups at different seasons in the year.
As a climber, I always believe we can do better. As a woman of color, I know that we can. My experience this season was unlike any other. From the first day on North and hearing Spanish echoing around the crag to watching a group of strong climbers from Monterrey, women and men, projecting alongside professional climbers, I can see that things are changing. The pivotal point for me was meeting Mariana Mendoza, a former competitive climber from Mexico. She greeted me with a big smile. She had been following Brown Girls Climb for a while, and was enthusiastic about what we were doing in the climbing community. Over the next few days, we met up, climbed, and talked about ways climbing had changed our lives, and how it could be used as a tool for social justice. Our languages overlapping and our laughter and sighs bonding over our entangled identities. This is what climbing should feel like. Climbing should feel like an extension of home for people of color. It should reflect the deepest parts of us, the parts of us most connected to the land.
Mariana Mendoza on Sign of the Choss 
Mariana and I geeking out
Recently, awareness of the fragility of the rock has gained increased attention in the climbing community. As amplified by a recent post by Jason Kehl, the lack of regard or education concerning the danger of climbing on wet rock. A number of popular problems, were broken in the last two months. The desert environment is particularly sensitive in this area. The granite-like syenite becomes fragile with extra humidity from rain, and it’s huecos, serve as wells for freshwater shrimp and other organisms critical to the park’s ecosystem. Specific ecosystem considerations is an important topic, and one that’s been addressed in other well-known climbing areas.
environmental justice, civic engagement, education, border rights & immigration, health, housing, employment and safe & thriving communities
The responsibility of the climbing community to respect the explicit and exact laws, rules and even suggestions, extends far beyond preserving the best problems for future climbers. Hueco Tanks and the environment preserved within its boundaries is home to a history beyond just our community. These boulders and rocks have an important story that out dates all of us, considerably. Our impact affects everyone and alters the experience for many people. Generations of life have appreciated the beauty and shelter of this historic site. What we do today can either amplify or destroy those stories. Take care – get educated and tread lightly. We are each part of the history of Hueco Tanks and what we choose to do with this opportunity may determine the fate of this park forever.
Author: Bethany Lebewitz
*Tso-doi-gyata-de-dee, Kiowa name for the area “rock cave where they were surrounded”
- Rock Paintings at Hueco Tanks State Historic Site.” Amazon, Amazon, 1 Jan. 1970, www.amazon.com/Paintings-Hueco-Tanks-State-Historic/dp/B004FOG6UK
Want to learn more about the history of climbing in Hueco Tanks? Check out this recent article by James Lucas in Climbing Magazine.
