Adventurer to Activist:
Climbers and Climate Advocacy

I was halfway up the boulder with just one mat and a spotter beneath me. It probably wasn’t the safest setup, and the higher I climbed, the larger the risk of falling loomed. The more I pushed my body up the face of the rock, the harder it was mentally to retreat. If I didn’t give it my all, one wrong move could mean a serious injury, maybe worse.

But there was so much to hold on for— like the pink and blue sunset that would soon paint the sky, or the thousands of stars that would brighten the desert night. My heart raced, but my body moved faster. Strategizing every move — my legs, feet, hands, core — I reached the top. Waiting for me, like destiny, were the cheers of friends below and a breathtaking sight of Joshua trees scattered across the park— a reminder of the enduring battle for survival of which we, too, are a part.

Long before my adventure to Joshua Tree, I knew of the 1987 U2 album that shared its name. After listening to it and learning about the park and its iconic beauty — highlighted by the trees and giant irregularly-shaped boulder formations illuminated by golden sunsets — I became fascinated. Staring into the stars has always filled me with a sense of wonder about what lies beyond our planet. To me, Joshua Tree seemed like a place to immerse oneself in the beauty of existence, surrounded by the building blocks of the universe. It felt like a place I was meant to experience.

Through a trip organized by the University of Southern California (USC) Climbing Team, I traveled three hours in a carpool to the intersection of the Mojave and Colorado deserts. After a few hours of morning top-rope climbing, my first time outdoors, we traveled across the park to boulder. As we took turns climbing across a boulder traverse, I wandered among the Joshua trees with a group of fellow climbers and felt a deeper connection to the history of this land.

Signs along our path told stories of the park’s past. One described the Joshua tree as a “tree of life” and a symbol of “survival, resilience, and beauty borne through perseverance.” This immediately reminded me of the challenging climbs I had tackled earlier that day and the first climbers who pioneered ascents in the park. I imagined those earlier adventurers—like the Desert Rats of the 1950s and ‘60s—exploring the boulders before climbing became mainstream. They must have felt spiritually connected to this land, recognizing its timeless beauty and the need to preserve it for future generations and its own longevity.

Throughout the trip, I learned more about the climbing community than I had ever before. Speaking with climbers from the team and those who had organized their own trips, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie and support. Beyond that, I learned of the shared commitment to preserving the environment. Just as in hiking, the leave-no-trace principles are paramount to the ethos of climbers, meaning we must protect the places we explore.

What began as a curiosity and new physical challenge led to a deeper realization about myself and the places I was experiencing. As an environmental activist, I became increasingly aware of the deeper connection between climbing and protecting the natural world. The sport is not just about scaling rocks or first ascents; it’s about resilience and survival, that of ourselves and of the landscapes that we take in when we climb. The Joshua tree, standing tall in the desert, embodies that connection.

When I look back at my first climbing trip, I’m reminded that just as we rely on the environment for adventure and inspiration, it is also necessary that we protect it. Climbing is a privilege, one that ties us to nature’s history. Some of the world’s greatest climbers, like Tommy Caldwell, emphasize that climbers must be climate activists. Without advocating for climate resilience, climbers are not playing their part to give back to the longevity of the natural landscapes they take from.

This sense of responsibility is reminiscent of the legacy of Rachel Carson, whose book, Silent Spring, led to international outrage and awareness about environmental threats. Carson not only exposed the dangers of pesticides, but also called on people to protect the natural world. In each of Carson’s four books, the others being Under the Sea-Wind, The Sea Around Us, and the Edge of the Sea, she observes the magnificence of life — of each creature’s survival and the evolution that led to their existence. Throughout her life, she dedicated herself to inspiring others to feel that same sense of wonder that climbers like myself experience when finishing a route and becoming part of history. Just as Carson’s connection to nature led her to dedicate her life to environmental advocacy, the role of a climber is also one of advocacy. Joshua Tree and many other landscapes that us climbers enjoy are always facing an environmental threat, one that is exacerbated through climate change. As people who enjoy the land, it also must be our mission to better it.

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RCC National Environment Leadership Fellow — Ana Young – Duke University

Ana is a senior at Duke University studying Public Policy with a focus on clean energy and environmental justice, a minor in Journalism and Media, and a certificate in Innovation and Entrepreneurship, concentrating on clean and climate tech.