The Craggin’ Classic has space for everyone. New and experienced climbers are welcome. The next morning, Zaia crawls out of her toasty sleeping bag and steps into the cold air, confronted with snow and below-freezing temperatures. Zaia puts on three puffies and at 9 a.m. she gathers CIC and the other affinity groups in a circle outside the AAC tent. Around 25 individuals stand in a circle with smiles on their faces.

Zaia says, “I think we might just end up going for a hike today.”

Introductions are made and the sun begins to peek out from the clouds. Relieved, Zaia announces to the group, “Well now that the sun is out, I think we can try to go climb!”

Everyone hops into their vehicles carpooling to The Bank, a parking lot farther up the road and closer to the crag aptly named Piggy Bank. Wrapped in their down coats with rope-laden packs on their backs, the group begins the 15-minute approach to the crag. They walk down into the valley and begin ascending a steep trail interspersed with rock steps back up to the base of the crag. A small path follows the cliff band. Climbers plop their packs and gear to the sides of the path, establishing their base for the day.

Silver bolts line the vertical walls. The sun dips behind the clouds as a general sense of trepidation settles amongst the group. The combination of frozen hands, frozen toes, and frozen rock does not sound appealing. Zaia takes the lead, climbing a 5.10c called Abu Simbel. At the third clip she hollers down to her belayer, “Can you take?”

At the end of the evening, Zaia tucks herself into the back of her car to sleep for the night. A thin film of frost develops on her windows, the freeze, a grim outlook for tomorrow’s event.

Not all climbers in the BIPOC community are fortunate enough to have access to or find groups like CIC. For Anna Castro, climbing became part of her life in college at Colorado State University.

When getting into any new sport, especially a sport that involves a lot of skill, safety, and understanding of gear, it helps to have a mentor. “Both of my mentors in climbing were white men,” says Castro. As she progressed in route setting and climbing, it became more apparent to her that she was in the minority within the climbing community.

According to the American Alpine Club’s 2019 State of Climbing Report, more than 80% of the 7.7 million individuals who participate in rock climbing are white. This number dwarfs the number of climbers who identify as a person of color, with only 7% of non-AAC members identifying as Asian/Pacific Islander, 5% Hispanic or Latino, and just 1% of both Black and Native American folks.

It was until she found CIC, that Castro felt she was missing something in her life. Castro was adopted and raised by a Colombian family. “I’m ethnically Latin, but if I’m talking about race, I am white, but I am not white-passing. I think that’s a difficult thing for some people to understand,” explains Castro. Although, she has experienced the feeling of being put into a box. Castro says, “I’m the brown girl who climbs and that’s how people sometimes identify me.”

The first CIC event she went to, she met another Latino climber. This was a novel experience for her. As a female boulderer, Castro found the space to be dominated by white men. CIC shared a whole new community of colored climbers who were equally strong and psyched to push themselves in the sport. It also created a space for Castro to express her feelings as a person of color. Castro says, “It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, but it was a little unsettling to always be the only brown woman climber in a gym full of men.”

At five feet tall, Castro is often underestimated in climbing spaces. Bouldering involves strong powerful moves. “I really like the masculine energy that comes with bouldering because it’s very unexpected.” Her climbing partner who is six feet tall climbs at a similar grade as her. “Being able to climb the same things he does brings me so much power in my internal being.”

Aside from the physical side of bouldering, Castro appreciates how bouldering teaches her to be accountable and face her own emotions.

Castro finds climbing and community to be interconnected. Climbing teaches her how to be a better communicator in her friendships and romantic relationships. She’s learned how to ask for what she needs, how to express what is and is not working for her in positive and constructive ways.

Climbing is a fixture in Castro’s life and continues to teach her lessons. Castro says, “When you’re climbing, you’re staring in a mirror. It’s just you and whatever problem you’re working on. Either you do it or you don’t.”

There are many longtime members like Castro, but CIC’s population is growing with each new event they put together.

Morgan MDanat’s first experience at a CIC event was about a month ago at The Spot Boulder, a bouldering-focused climbing gym located in Boulder, Colorado. She heard about it through a friend and fellow CIC member. “In Colorado, I don’t see many brown people in the outdoors. I have a yearning to be with people who are like me,” says MDanat.

“Race and ethnicity are always a hard question, even when it comes to checking the box. Usually, the box I check is Hispanic or Latino,” says MDanat. Born and raised by a Jordanian father and Hispanic mother, MDanat attributes much of her upbringing to those cultures.

MDanat moved to Colorado about two years ago, but grew up and lived in New Mexico for much of her life. She started climbing about six years ago, learning in a very different space with different ethics when it came to climbing outside.

Climbing is a sport that is often handed down through mentorship and teaching, especially when there is a smaller community. MDanat learned from climbers who had a ground-up attitude. According to MDanat, the mentality was, “If you can’t make the first bolt, you’re not climbing it. You’re strong enough to do it or you don’t do it.” Unaware of all the risks that come with climbing, MDanat describes herself as a “bold” climber when she first started out. Obsessed by the movement, the power, and the community, she threw herself into the sport.

After moving to Colorado, MDanat began to focus on building strength in order to achieve her goals that once felt out of reach. She describes her relationship with climbing as something that “ebbs and flows.” Her excitement is part of what propelled her to attend a CIC meet-up in hopes of finding more climbing partners that make her feel part of the community. There was a noticeable shift in MDanat’s surroundings when she arrived in Colorado. “I’ve always been surrounded by areas where there is more culture and there are more brown people,” says MDanat.

According to the 2022 Census, 89.5% of Boulder’s 327,468 residents are white. The barrier to entry can feel intimidating when entering a new space. MDanat explains, “In New Mexico, people just climb to climb. It didn’t matter what you were climbing, just that you were climbing. Moving to Colorado, especially in Boulder, people are like, ‘How hard do you climb?’ It’s a shift in being surrounded by a lot of people who climb very hard.”

MDanat wanted a space and community where she could feel supported and challenged without feeling the pressure to feel like she had to prove herself in order to be accepted.

With any sport, ego is involved, but certain individualistic sports, like climbing, can be especially ego-driven. Climbing harder grades can lead to an inflated sense of self and a superiority complex.

MDanat expresses this elitist mentality saying, “In New Mexico, when you go at a specific time to the gym, and you know all the people there, they talk to you know matter what. I don’t feel like that’s the case in Boulder. It is an off place where people only talk to you if you climb a certain grade.”