Loving a place is an important part of fighting for it, and Black Diamond loves Indian Creek. The striking desert landscape is what prompted our founder, Peter Metcalf, to move from California to Utah, with its splitter cracks, perfect for climbing, and Wingate towers that let the daring summit through loose blocks, calcite off-widths, and sandy ledges.
Indian Creek is important to us. It’s where we test prototypes, photograph marketing campaigns, and where employees recoup and get inspired for new designs. In our mission, we mention our purpose in “making a difference on matters of great importance.” For Black Diamond, protecting Indian Creek and places like it is personal—we can’t lose access.
Bear Ears National Monument was reduced by 90%, even though most people are against reducing national monuments. Now, 80% of the climbing in Indian Creek is no longer protected—open to extraction leases that could destroy climbing areas and limit recreational access. People know what is at stake: that places like the Creek could be lost. We want to see this land protected and managed by people who respect it: Native groups, land managers, and recreationalists. It took years to create and agree upon a Resource Management Plan for Bears Ears that worked for all the stakeholders. That work was ripped away and forgotten to prioritize extraction.
But our voices as people connected to Indian Creek matter, because protecting a place comes from a collective act of love. Sharing memories of climbing your first route, witnessing a desert waterfall, sharing whisky around a campfire with friends, hearing coyotes and ravens call—these are the little joys that remind us why Indian Creek is worth saving. We know our voices aren’t the only ones that matter; we are only a small part of a larger collective (missing here are the Native stories and connections that predate climbing by centuries).
So, we asked employees to share their love for Indian Creek in their own words to rally ourselves within the walls of Black Diamond, and we hope their love letters inspire your own stories while we all keep fighting for this place.
“I remember my first trip down to The Creek like it was yesterday. Staring up at incredible splitter after splitter, I couldn’t help but feel the true beauty of the place around me. It extended far beyond my pumped forearms, cramped hands, or tired ankles and into the vast sea of sandstone and blue sky.
This special place deserves to remain protected as a National Monument so future generations of climbers and outdoor enthusiasts will get to experience the same thing that made me fall in love with it.”
— Joseph Bucher, Buyer and Supply Planner
“There are so many reasons that I love Indian Creek (and Bears Ears, and Grand Staircase-Escalante), but the overwhelming pull that keeps me coming back is the feeling of meeting time itself when you're there. These open spaces make all your senses come alive in the best way when you're with them, and you feel inseparable from the land itself and the stewards that came much before you. You meet time and yourself in these places—how glorious is that?
P.S. SAVE IT ALL”
— Teresa Fuster, Specialty Sales Ops Manager
“My love for Indian Creek goes far beyond the incredible climbing to be found there. While I learned how to sew up a crack on the soaring walls of Windgate sandstone, to me, what truly makes The Creek special is the feeling you get when you are there. The experience of truly feeling small, surrounded by features and creatures and people that have long called this home before I even knew it existed. Indian Creek is a treasure in our home state, one that people travel thousands of miles to experience, and it deserves to remain fully protected as a National Monument.”
— Jess Powell, Advocacy & Sustainability Manager
“What I love about Indian Creek is how easy it is to get lost in the long view. Yes, you can see for miles across the desert. But the long view I’m talking about is the one I learned from Terry Tempest Williams: an attitude of thinking long-term and understanding the far-off consequences of actions, instead of focusing only on short-term, immediate results. People come to this place not to extract minerals or oil or to graze cattle; they travel thousands of miles to connect to a place full of magic, lose themselves down a wash, feel small for a while, touch petrified dunes, watch ravens catch thermals, and for the chance to experience the long view. It is our history, our future. Without protection, Bears Ears National Monument is lost, and we, as Americans, lose a vital connection to our ability to learn from the long view.”
— Molly Malone, Copywriter
“Growing up in Southeastern Utah feels different as time and years have gone by. As a kid, it could feel isolating and maybe unforgiving. Looking back, it was that place but more.
I have many memories of both Bears Ears and The Creek. I can remember from an early age hopping in the truck with the family and driving out of Monticello headed to a place my dad only referred to as Fry Canyon. I didn't know that this drive, when I was maybe 9 or 10, would take me along Road 95 and through what is now Bears Ears National Monument.
It always seemed to be a drive that lasted forever. But I remember the first time the Bears Ears were pointed out to me. I couldn't get enough of the stories (true or not) about how they formed, the native tribe, culture, and animals that lived in this wild place. Each year my dad would think of something different to add to his stories (true or not).
Year after year we'd travel down 95. My dad always made a point to veer off into some desolate path that would take us off the main highway. We'd set up a small area to have a picnic or just have a cold drink. Occasionally we'd walk around and collect the pine nuts that had fallen from the piñon trees and savor every bit of them.
He was a man of little words and preferred the open and untouched spaces like those surrounding the Bears Ears. His favorite saying, as we're sitting there staring out at the open, was, "This is God's Country." And it may be a cliché to some, but it wasn't to him, and I know he meant it.
Places like this need to be seen and shared, but most of all protected. Future generations should get the chance to feel the uninterrupted, untouched, isolated, and maybe unforgiving splendor that is this place. The Bears Ears.”
— Dennis Barela, Facilities Manager
“I started climbing in Indian Creek in the early 1980s, and after more than four decades of climbing there, I can honestly say there is no place like it on earth.
I’ve spent countless days there over the years—climbing splitter cracks, getting humbled, sitting around camp with friends, and watching the last light hit the cliffs.
What makes The Creek special isn’t any single route. It’s the combination of the climbing, the landscape, the history, and the people you share it with. There are very few places in the world where the climbing and the landscape are so completely connected.
For generations of climbers, Indian Creek has been one of the places that defines what climbing in the American West is all about. It’s wild, beautiful, intimidating, and incredibly special.
Places like Indian Creek and Bears Ears deserve to remain wild and accessible so the next generation can have their own experiences there—and hopefully fall in love with the place the same way so many of us have.”
— Doug Heinrich, VP of Equipment
“The sleeping giant waits peacefully as the world moves quickly. The land is vast, and wild, and beautiful to all who visit. Many come, and many go, each moved by its majesty. The only outward glimpse we are allowed is the two ears giving witness to something sacred underneath.”
— Dave Gaseau, Design Engineer
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