Relentless potholes toss my pickup from side to side as I rumble down the dirt road. Gray clouds loom overhead, taunting me with a downpour, but I try to stay optimistic. Spring rock climbing is always a gamble.

Despite the uncertain weather, I was eager to meet friends for an evening at what is informally known as Point of Rocks — a hidden treasure that, while only 30 minutes northwest of Whitefish, feels worlds away from civilization.  

I pull into the East Canyon Trailhead off U.S. 93, one of the four nondescript entrances to the 3,000 acres of “rocky outcroppings, hummocky ridges and shaded hollows,” as described in Brett Eckert’s second edition of “A Climber’s Guide: Point of Rocks, Montana.”  

The book is a bible for those looking to navigate the area's 48 climbing zones and upward of 450 climbing routes and boulder problems. It offers detailed descriptions, including high-definition photos and route grades.   

We our vehicles behind and make our way down a decommissioned logging road. The forest sits on school trust land managed by the Montana Department of Natural Resources and Conservation and is used for timber harvest, with the most recent logging taking place between 2008 and 2009.

Veering off the road, we scramble up a short series of switchbacks to a towering 70-foot cliff known as UDL. Developed in 2011, it was among the first areas established at Point of Rocks and, according to Eckert, remains heavily trafficked due to its easy access and variety of routes.

It also proved to be a good option for us in case we needed to high-tail it back to the trailhead if the weather took a turn for the worse.  

The argillite wall is part of the Belt-Purcell Supergroup that formed in the Precambrian Era, the same rock that formed the sculpted peaks of Glacier National Park. 

Standing beneath the cliff, moss and lichen outline each route, accentuating the path upward. Eckert warns that plants can be expected along most of the routes. Weather streaming from the Pacific Northwest collides with Whitefish Range that overlooks Point of Rocks, leaving the area relatively moist. 

Less experienced climbers made up most of our 10-person group, so I watched as the two seasoned alpinists flipped through the guidebook before settling on a route called Fly Paper, rated 5.9 and considered the most climbed route in Point of Rocks.  

“Let’s see if I can do it,” Jack Fitzgerald said while peering up at the rippled face.  

Sam Garry belayed as Fitzgerald led the climb, methodically unclipping quickdraws from his harness and placing them into the bolts spaced up the wall, clipping his rope into each. 

I hold my breath in the moments Fitzgerald spends climbing above the last clipped bolt, where a fall would mean dropping onto several feet of slack rope. Garry watches intently below ready to pull the rope tight at any moment to lessen the drop.  

After reaching the top, he sets an anchor for the rope to feed through, allowing the rest of us to top rope and freely climb without the need for quickdraws.  

I EVENTUALLY slip on my climbing shoes and thread the rope through my harness. The cool, damp air leaves the rock cold to the touch.  

The start of any climb always feels the most awkward. The transition from standing on even ground to contorting my arms and legs in order to stick myself to a vertical rock all while being a few inches off the ground just feels uncomfortable.  

From far away, the smoothed cliff sculpted by ancient glacial activity looks almost impossible to climb, but once I’m pressed against it, the slight grooves and jagged edges come to focus. My eyes scan for any edge I can force my fingers and toes on to gather leverage.  

At first, I find myself stuck using tiny crimp holds that force me to rely on the grip of my fingertips, slowly wearing down my arms. Relief comes just in time when I find a rounded ledge I can wrap my palm around.  

Fixated on the position of my arms and feet, I lose track of how quickly I gain height. I look down at my belayer, Kennedy Grove, with my life in her hands, yet I feel at ease.  

As someone in my group put it, there is a special type of bond between a climber and a belayer.   

From the top of the route, I gaze out over the surrounding forest, the treetops swaying below me to the rhythm of the wind. The gray clouds are now in full view overhead, holding off from dropping their cargo to let us have our fun at the crag.  

The rolling hills and cliff bands bring an intense calmness that soothes my aching limbs. But the moment doesn’t last — thoughts of a snapping rope or crumbling rock invade my mind.  

“You can let me down now!” I holler down to Grove.  

Leaning back in my harness with my legs outstretched toward the wall, Grove slowly lets rope through her belay device. My feet eventually return to the pine needle-covered dirt and she greets me with an enthusiastic high-five accompanied by whoops of encouragement from the rest of my crew.  

Point of Rocks provides an accessible yet isolated respite for those looking to get a couple of hours of quality climbing in.  

“A Climber’s Guide: Point of Rocks, Montana” can be purchased online at lucentpds.com or at outdoor shops in the Flathead Valley.  

Reporter Jack Underhill can be reached at 406-758-4407 or [email protected]. If you value local journalism, pledge your support at dailyinterlake.com/support.