Everybody needs one.
Whether it's 3 hours away in the foothills of some mountain range or the boulders down the road, most of us have a home crag we keep seeking out, where we go to get in shape for that big roadtrip or unwind after returning. The default destination when everywhere else is too far, too unfamiliar, too hot.

Ours is pretty decent but definitely not world class. Probably not even 'regional class'. Just like the local crag should be. Small, convenient and with minimal surprises. It is a 45 minute drive over the pass to get there, Good for daytrips, heck even half day trips. The approaches, though, are a bit longish to fit the recipe for the perfect local crag, with some cliffs so far in there and too bushwacky to even try to reach.

The rock is a type of igneous stone called gneiss that is quite climbable in places and completely rotten around the corner. The routes are here and there, scattered amidst acres of choss and brush choked gullies. With no guidebook and virtually no traffic, most climbs feel like first ascents, complete with cobwebs and lichen.

There's very little about this place that warrants it even the tiniest spot on the World Wide Web, except for one unique aspect (uniqueness is typically a red flag for the preferably bland local crag) and that is the landowner that currently guarantees access. The situation here is such a blatant exception to the standard climber/property owner relationship, that we want to celebrate it with an full page on fivenineclimber.

The entire crag is accessed thru private land, including parking and approach. But the owner doesn't mind us roaming around out there, in fact he's quite nice about it. He doesn't charge a parking fee or issue daily and annual passes for high dollar amounts, as he easily could, since that seems to be the latest trend in the West. He also couldn't care less about us piling up vehicles in his driveway or hiking past his house to and fro the rocks. He is generally congenial and likes to shoot the breeze. His name is Chad, and the climbers, the handful that knows about Chad's rocks, like him.

All we need to do is always call first. Everytime. Calling is important, he says, because he and his buddies go shooting in 'em hills now and then. Wouldn't wanna hit anybody. We don't forget to call. We've seen the piles of empty shells.

For Chad's and the local climbing community's sake it is clearly best not to disclose the location of our local crag on the web. But to be honest, even if you knew, you probably wouldn't bother going. And that's exactly what makes a perfect local crag.