Lately, I’ve been pulled toward the idea of capturing climbers in their natural element—outdoors, high on granite, where the stakes are real and the views are earned. That curiosity sent me down the usual rabbit hole: a few Google searches, a dive into the r/FortCollins subreddit, and eventually, a name kept surfacing—The Monastery. Tucked deep in the folds of Big Thompson Canyon on the road to Estes Park, this crag isn’t just a pretty face. It’s a fortress of bullet-hard, iron-hued granite, rising in towering waves of patina and pockets. The canyon narrows into a kind of vertical cathedral, and right at its heart stands a proud, slightly overhung slab—the kind that tests your technique, trust, and tolerance for exposure. Word on the trail is that it hosts one of Colorado’s most classic and stout 5.10s—a rite of passage for local crushers and traveling dirtbags alike.
In the photo above, you can spot the slab jutting skyward on the canyon’s right flank—a striking feature in a chamber of stone called The Vestibule. True to its cathedral motif, that proud face is known as The Altar. The names aren’t just for flair—this place feels sacred. The walls are worn smooth in places, dimpled in others, like slabs of raw hardwood left out in the sun—weathered, wild, and wildly textured. Honestly, I’m surprised more local climbers don’t talk about this zone. Maybe it's the approach, or maybe folks are guarding their gems. Either way, I couldn’t wait around for word-of-mouth beta—I just started showing up, hoping to catch someone on the sharp end. First trip? Empty crag. But on my second visit, jackpot—eight seasoned climbers rolled in, split across three parties, all heading into The Vestibule with ropes flaked and stoke high. One of those days where the stars just align.
Showing up unannounced with a camera at a crag is always a roll of the dice. Some folks light up—stoked to be documented mid-crux. Others eye you like you’re a drone about to buzz their anchor. That day was a mix of both: a warm hello here, a cool nod there. But hands down, the most welcoming soul I met wasn’t tied in or spotting—it was a scrappy little Chihuahua named Chido, who followed me around like I’d brought the snacks.
Chido’s a bit of a crag celeb, especially wherever his human, Aaron Sommer, sets up rope. That day, Chido came trotting down the trail—nervous but committed—and without hesitation jumped straight into my buddy Parker’s lap (you can see it in the photo above). Gotta say, the tiny sweater was a genius move, Aaron. Between warm layers and a rock-solid bond, Chido’s living the dirtbag dream. Aaron told me he found him as a stray while climbing in Mexico—started feeding him scraps, and the rest is history. They’ve been inseparable ever since. Definitely the kind of crag dog you’d want around: alert, loyal, and down for the approach.
As a photographer who’s still learning the ropes—literally—one of my favorite things about shooting in The Vestibule is the layout of the land. The rocky corridor slopes downhill just enough that I can post up further back, stay on my feet, and still get clean, lateral shots of climbers mid-pitch. It’s a dream for someone who’s not yet jugging up 5.11s with a camera bag bouncing off their hip. Until I earn those technical stripes, crags like this—where the terrain works in your favor—feel like a gift.
Pictured above (climbers: Aaron Sommer on the left, Spencer Wilbur on the right) are a few shots that show what I mean. Even though I was standing eye-to-eye with them, they were a good twenty feet off the deck. The angle plays tricks—in the best way. Sure, the next evolution is shooting from above, hanging on a line with a lens in one hand and a gri-gri in the other… but we’re not there just yet. And honestly, even from the ground, there’s still plenty of magic to catch.
Above is climber and fellow photographer Josh Bender (he’s got some stunning work—definitely worth checking out here) after topping out a route known as Psychatomic.
As for the shots below—the ones with someone dangling high above the Rockies in the mighty Vestibule of the Monastery—that's the kind of view that stops you in your tracks. Hanging there, midair, you get it. This place has a pull. And if you spend enough time out here, you might just feel a presence of your own.
Okay, maybe you won’t find some ancient spiritual force echoing off the walls—but you will find epic sends, stunning views, and a damn good adventure. Thanks for bringing the beer, Parker.
Until next time—pack light, shoot often, and follow the trails that pull at you. Cheers.
