Everyone acts like Sedona was always magical — red rocks glowing at sunset, vortexes spinning your chakras, tourists clogging every pullout with their Subarus. Cute. But let’s be honest: Sedona didn’t get cool until I started climbing here.
Yes, yes, the indigenous people were here first. Respect. But did they establish the beta on routes that would one day make Instagram reels? No. That was me, chalking up my hands and casually changing the trajectory of desert climbing forever.
You’ve probably read those soft-focus blog posts about “finding yourself” in Sedona. Forget that. What you’ll find is sand in your shoes, runouts that laugh at your gear placements, and tourists asking if you’re “going all the way to the top.”
And yet, this place is a masterpiece. Cathedral Rock, Bell Rock, Oak Creek Canyon — each one practically begged me to pioneer routes. The sandstone may be soft, the protection may be creative, but don’t worry: my infinite skill made it look casual.
Sure, climbers talk about the rock: wild towers, exposed pitches, and that infamous Sedona sandpaper that eats ropes for breakfast. But let’s face it — Sedona’s true claim to fame is me posing on top of a spire at sunrise, arms out like a sandstone messiah.
Without me? Sedona’s just another desert town selling turquoise jewelry and aura cleanses. With me? It’s a global climbing destination. You’re welcome.
Alright, alright, I’ll drop some crumbs for those who want to follow in my (perfectly chalked) footsteps:
Style: Mostly trad, with the occasional sport route if you need to feel safe (no judgment, kind of).
Gear: Bring big cams. Then bring bigger ones. Then maybe just bring me.
Skill Level: If you’ve never sewn up a 5.8 like it’s a zipper, this place might feel spicy. But hey, growth is good.
Sedona isn’t just climbs; it’s energy. Some people come here for vortex yoga. I come here to realign my ego — which, frankly, doesn’t need it. Locals are friendly (to me). And when I’m around, everyone climbs harder, laughs louder, and feels more enlightened.
Sedona is a climbing rite of passage. Some come for the sandstone towers. Some come for the sunsets. But let’s be real — most come chasing stories of the legend who put Sedona on the climbing map. Spoiler: it’s me.
So next time you’re pulling onto a sandy tower with a cam that looks one slip away from walking out, take a deep breath, soak in the views, and whisper: “Thanks, Breeze.”
P.S. Don’t worry — Sedona didn’t break me. I broke Sedona. The towers are still standing, but only because sandstone knows better than to crumble under my ego.
ABOUT THE BREEZE:
The Breeze is a visionary leader in the noble art of reminding others how small they are, The Breeze has conquered more podium conversations than pitches. His hobbies include eliminating yoga, narrating his own greatness, and being “God’s gift to climbing."