When you think of legendary Southern hardman climbers a few names bubble up to the top. Rob Robinson is a climber who needs no introduction in this part of the country. Most notably he found and developed the Tennessee Wall putting up many of it's super classic routes. If you flip through the pages of any guide book on southern climbing it would be hard to find crags that Rob hasnt extensively explored and put up many of the plumbs before the rest of us set eyes on it. We catch up with Rob for a great and long interview just in time for his new guide book to the T-Wall which is just now hitting the climbing stores shelves. Enjoy.

Rob putting some Southern style on "Carte Blanche" at Sunset Rock.

Rob: When I was 15 years old I went on an Outward Bound style summer trip which the Asheville School for Boys, a prep school, ran under the aegis of an old mountain man named James "Pop" Hollandsworth. We climbed in the Tetons as well as the Beartooth mountains.The majority of what we did involved a fair amount of of snow and ice. I really didn't find it to be much fun. We were cold and wet more often than not, carried huge packs, were always hungry and forever worn out. But then after a month of mountaineering and close to the end of our trip we did a climb called "Baxter's Pinnacle." It was a perfect, sunny day with a beautiful blue sky overhead. Everything we had learned came together on that day. I remember being poised on the "small" 5.7 headwall holds mid way up the first pitch -- wearing a pair of big ole' clunky Vasque Hiker II boots -- and thinking this was actually a pretty incredible thing to be doing! I was relatively comfortable on the rock, it wasn't cold like it had been higher up in the mountains, and I was starting to get a feel for how to move on the rock. Were it not for that particular ascent I don't know if my interest in climbing would have continued.

SCC: Who were your early mentors?

Rob: One of the mountain guides from that trip was a Yosemite Valley climber named Mark Chapman. I remember being amazed at how physically powerful Mark was .. a product of lots of hard Valley crack climbing. I remember watching him solo a 150' wall one day at a practice cliff and just being blown away. He also did some hard bouldering ... it was like watching a machine crank out the moves. I was wondering when he was going to start leaking hydraulic fluid out of his joints! What made Mark all the more impressive in my eyes was how quiet and understated he was. He never bragged about anything or regaled us with tales of his exploits in the Valley. I guess I would call him "a climber's climber." He loved the sport and just did his thing.

When I returned to Chattanooga and began exploring the crags here I would often think back to Mark Chapman and wonder how he would go about getting up a particular stretch of rock. Trying to think like this helped me a lot. "What would Mark do?"

My next big influence was North Carolina 'hard man' Tim McMillan whom I encountered after I had been climbing about three years and met up with at Moore's Wall. Together we gorged on Carolina quartzite, and also did some climbing at Seneca Rocks. Seneca was a huge turning point. I thrived on the ferocity and intensity of extreme trad climbing typical of that area. After my first trip there I knew I would be coming back for more. It was my kind of arena. After my first trip to Seneca I discovered that, having lost a few critical pounds, I was able to crank off one arm pull ups palming a rounded ceiling joist in the log cabin where I was living at the time. Tim had been working on trying to free a route at Moore's Wall called "Wild Kingdom," and decided I was just the ticket needed to eliminate the remaining aid on the second pitch roof. So he hauled me out there to do it. He had the route so wired we only took about five pieces of pro. Unfortunately, the day of our ascent I had forgotten my harness and had to climb tied straight into the rope around my waist. Tim summarily dispatched the first pitch, then fired me out into the second pitch roof which I managed to on-sight. He led the next pitch to the base of the crux face climbing headwall section. He decided to send me up on that as well. I almost nailed it but then took a 20' fall near the last move. After examining the nasty rope burn on my waist, and thinking about taking that long a fall with a straight tie in, and being 300' off the deck ... I decided I had 'contributed' enough. So Tim went up and fired it. Fortunately for my waist I managed to follow it without falling again.

While I was living in North Carolina I picked up a 1978 copy of Climbing magazine which had a cover shot of John Long blasting iron cross sequences on a John Gill problem near Pueblo, Colorado called "The Ripper Traverse." The guy had muscles that looked like they were chiseled out of granite ... it ocurred to me that sort of strength was worth striving for given my growing appetite for overhanging routes.

That same year I also picked up a copy of Pat Ament's Master of Rock, the biography of John Gill (the "father" of American bouldering.) I was profoundly impacted by the story of Gill's path in climbing and as well the mutant-like strength he developed and applied to his craft. I identified with Gill because he was, after all, from the South, and as well he was off on his "on his own trip" in climbing doing what he wanted to do and, if not oblivious to, at least wholly unconcerned by what the rest of the climbing world was preoccupied with at the time. Bouldering was looked down as the nonexistent cousin of "real" climbing -- mountaineering -- back then. Gill operated in what Ament described as "the bliss of isolation."

This idea of the isolated climber pursuing his own unique vision of climbing resonated with me since Chattanooga wasn't even on the map of American mainstream climbing. And there were hardly any climbers in the area. We were truly "bush league." Anyway, Gill was a climbing icon to me, and I would read Master of Rock over and over again, and marvel at photos where it appeaared the man had somehow managed to bend the laws of gravity to his will.

Perhaps the next biggest influence on me had to be local sandstone climber Forrest Gardner whom, as a freshman, I met on my first day of classes at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. Although I didn't know him at the time I saw he had a set of forearms that looked like that could wrench the cap off a pop top Coke bottle with ease. I figured he had to be a climber. I was right! Eventually we crossed paths at Sunset and began climbing.

In those days Forrest was the bolder climber. Once he felt like he had sufficient gear in on a route and had properly sized things up -- the guy would launch like a bazooka up the wall ... I mean go for broke, no holds barred. He was what I would call a "hundred percenter."

I was way more cautious and always made an effort to keep something in reserve, and not get into a "summit or die" mentality. This came from the fact that I was basically not into decking! LOL I hated being forced to do hard moves above gear. Paradoxically, I did do a fair amount of free soloing on big open faces like those found at Moore's Wall, or on easier routes locally with big holds. Go figure, eh?

I also read about Colorado climber Jim Erickson (in the book Climb) where he, in an interview, talked his technique of methodically climbing up and down difficult and poorly protected pitches, mastering all the moves and gear until, finally, he could link all the elements to form a successful ascent -- without falling. I really liked his concept! and felt it was unquestionably the best way not to get killed in this endeavor. Erickson was systematic, cautious, controlled and highly analytical.

Later, as I gained in confidence, my conservative lead style would change. The time spent climbing with Forrest helped me move in the direction of being bolder. He had tremendous heart and courage, and to watch him climb could be truly inspirational -- especially when he was in a free soloing mood. I will never forget, for instance, watching him free solo the Headwall, Flagstone, and Euphoria at Sunset. On the latter route I saw him do a completely airborne dyno past a 4' blank section which comprises the crux -- about 30' off the ground. Failure to stick the hold above would have meant almost certain death. But he had this dead certainty. He, by God, knew he could do it. I was just blown away.

I have always thought that had Gardner trained like an Olympic athlete he would have easily been one of the best free climbers in the world. I'd venture to say that would even be true today. He had huge, tendon-laced forearms, zero body fat, a washboard stomach, and spindly legs. He could crank off 15 or 20 fingertip pull ups, locking off at chest center, with his legs stuck out in front of him -- after we had been at a local bar knocking back pitchers of beer. Unbelievable natural talent. But Forrest got what he wanted out of the sport doing it the way he did which is how it should be.

Anyway. Gardner influenced me, over time, to become bolder in my own efforts ... to loosen up a bit on the lead. But I never completely lost that reserve ... I've always remembered that all it takes is one small screw up at an inopportune time, a momentary lapse in concentration, a stray yellowjacket stinging you, or a hold unexpectedly snapping in the middle of a 40' run-out -- and you can be toast. I think it this reserve I always maintained is why I am alive today. Even so, I am still amazed I haven't had a major deck in all my years of climbing. I've had some very close calls over the years.

I would also have to say Gene Smith had a huge impact on my climbing when he brought double rope technique with him to the South from the Gunks. I was able to take extreme trad to a whole new level using this protection system, and highly recommend anyone today wanting to repeat some of my harder routes to use doubles.

SCC: What was climbing like in those days?

Rob: Wow. It was tough. If you could find a climbing partner you were lucky. Chattanooga area climbers were few and far between. So I ended up do a lot of bouldering. Which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing because it really helped me later when I was on the sharp end of the rope.

SCC: Can you tell us about your first day finding the Tennessee Wall?

Rob: I was getting burned out on local crags and had been in the mood for some new rock for a long time. It wasn't that there wasn't anything new left to do at places like Sunset, Bee Rocks or Buzzard/Laurel/Foster/Castle, however the latter areas required a 45 minute drive and I was lazy I guess. Jamestown/Yellow Creek Falls/Sand Rock were even further out. And although I did do routes at those crags I needed something close by. You get spoiled when you have great rock just 20 minutes from downtown!

So I started nosing around to see what we might find. Arno Ilgner and I did some stuff at a place called Patten Bluff ... not bad, but not the 24K sandstone gold I was looking for. I also did some climbing left of Patten at a place called Eagle Ridge? left of Patten, and a handful of routes at Fullerton Bluff outside Jasper (near Castle Rock.)

Then one day Arno and I decided to check out the so-called "Elder Wall" on the back of Elder Mountain. He and Roger Sherman drove down from Nashville and together we went looking for a way to get as close to the base of the wall as possible. We were stopped by a gate going down through the Tennessee River Gorge side and so decided to have a go at access by driving round the other way and seeing if we could gain access somewhere near the Raccoon Mountain hydroelectric station. We drove over the mountain at a place called Pan Gap and .... there it was! across the river basking in the morning sun. We were so blown away Roger just stopped the truck in the middle of the road. We jumped out and were screaming at what was our obvious and unbelievable good fortune ... there was zero doubt looking at the wall it was an incredible crag. You could see the straight in cracks, dozens and dozens of crisp corners and knife edge aretes -- and big, dark shadowy caves which I hoped might be home to some splitter roof cracks. (I wouldn't be disappointed.) We decided not to drive back round and figure out how to get to the wall that day, and instead went on to find the Elder Wall and climb there -- which we did. We found an amazing but brutal overhanging crack -- one of the best in Chattanooga actually -- that Arno I managed to top out on in a joint effort. We named it "Limits of Sanity" because we were so psyched to go check out the new crag across the river we could hardly stand the thought of having to wait.

SCC: What all was going on in the early development days of that crag? Who were your climbing partners as you put up first ascents at the Tennessee Wall?

Rob: Once I had a handle on the scope of first ascent inventory I knew an first ascent explosion was at hand. It was like the cork blowing off a bottle of champagne. I had been hoping and dreaming to find a crag ... one maybe just half of what the Tennessee Wall was and I would have been happy. But this?! A truly world class sandstone crag? We descended on that wall in a frenzy -- like sharks churning in chum-filled water. I climbed with whomever and whenever I could ... Arno Ilgner, Peter Henley, Robyn Erbesfield, Marvin Webb, Forest Gardner, James Dobbs, Pat Perrin, Mark Cole, Mark Cartwright, Steve Goins ... and many more climbers I can't recall off the top of my head.

SCC: What routes stick out in your mind during that period?

Rob: All of them! I mean that, actually. It was like the unfolding of an incredible dream, and to pick out any one highlight or series of highlights would be impossible. It was the entire energy of the wall that resonated with me, and the routes were just the discrete manifestations of that energy. Maybe that sounds too Zen-like...

SCC: Can you tell us about your exploits at other southern crags?

Rob: Well, I mentioned "Wild Kingdom" at Moore's Wall. I did a few other new routes there as well ... I guess "Quaker State" is a bit of a stand out. That was the brand name of a popular motor oil ... I figured most folks would be like I was on the headwall run-out ... quaking ... or close to it.

"Hit The Silk" at Seneca was a great line to bag ... the locals had completely overlooked it even though it was this immaculate skyscraper face out on the right wall of the Triple S corner next to the Face of a Thousand Pitons wall. It had never even been top roped ... unbelievable!

Gardner and I did a few routes on the North Face of Looking Glass Rock. I quickly figured out I was probably going to get killed if I kept up doing more of the same. One time I was sure I was a dead man hanging when I saw Gardner facing a 100' "factor 2" fall onto me and a quarter inch belay bolt station I was attached to. We named that route "Secret Alloys." He was top stepping his aiders and blowing pieces while back stepping into the lower aider. I sweated through a pair of leather gloves during that little adventure. Then there was the time we got caught in the most ferocious thunder storm I have ever witnessed while we were about 400' up "Chieftans of Creep." Lightning blasting the rock all around us, and I couldn't get Gardner to come down for anything ... screaming at him, trying to pull him off the wall. It was all to no avail. I was sure our gooses were going to get cooked. We made it, but that was it for me. Of course, we all know that was just the appetizer for Forrest who went on to accomplish a string of extreme aid routes on the Glass and beyond ... "The Brain Wall" (which he subsequently soloed), "Carolina Hog Farm", "The Fatherland" at Table Rock in South Carolina) and on and on.

I also did a fair amount of climbing at areas like Castle Rock, Laurel Falls, Buzzard Point, The Dihedrals, Point Park, Bee Rocks, Foster Falls, Yellow Creek Falls, Jamestown and Sand Rock to name a few areas that come to mind. A lot of routes we did have been "rediscovered" and in some cases bolted over which I regard as a travesty of sorts. About ten years ago I spent a lot of time exploring and doing new routes out in Sequatchie Valley.

SCC: You have done many first ascents up at Sunset Rock. Can you tell us about those efforts?

Rob: My interest to do new routes at Sunset was fueled, in part, by the incredible photos found in Bob Godfrey and Dudley Chelton's classic late 1970's book on Colorado climbing called Climb. Looking at those pictures I said "hey!, we've got routes around here that look like they are as good those Colorado routes ... we should do them!" I also liked doing new routes since when I first began climbing at Sunset there were only about two dozen established routes. While I enjoyed repeating classic routes it tended to get old fast. I grew to like the sense of adventure that new routes promised. What was waiting for us up there?

Sunset was the sandstone I cut my teeth on and I slowly grew into the area. As the years passed we teased the routes out of the walls and coves, and picked the 'lines between the lines' apart at a leisurely pace.

SCC: You are a master and climbing hard burly cracks. Whats the deal? Did you just wake up one day and find you had Yeti hand strength or was it an acquired taste?

Rob: Well, I always liked cracks early on because first and foremost they readily provide protection. And as I mentioned earlier I wasn't very keen on running routes out over gear when I first started climbing, so focusing on cracks was a natural for me. I knew if I could hang on long enough the gear was always going to be there. Plus, cracks offer far more secure climbing than sketched out faces which heighten your sense of exposure and vulnerability. Beyond that, I came to love crack climbing because of the combination of subtle techniques you could use to climb them, and because you can combine that with "Rambo" strength. LOL "Ripping" hard cracks, especially overhanging or roof cracks, is a power trip -- and a lot of fun.

SCC: Favorite crack in the deep south?

Rob: That's a really difficult question. The best I could do is narrow it down to a short list: "Locomotive Breath", the "Fire Wall" crack, Grand Dragon and Spade" at Yellow Creek Falls. "The White Seam" at Jamestown. "Dixie Dregs" and "Iron Maiden" at Point Park. "The Pearl" at Sunset Rock. "Pleasure of the Isle", "Paper Dragon" and "Walk of the Gods" in Chickamauga Gulf. "Special Olympics", "Confetti Fingers" and "Rainbow Delta" in Suck Creek Canyon. "Golden Locks", "Mrs. Socrates", "Crackattack", and "Fly With The Falcon" at the Tennessee Wall. I could go on. Of course, I left out all the roof cracks in that list. But for that genre if I had to pick one, maybe ... "Celestial Mechanics."

SCC: What are you doing these days? Do you still climb?

Rob: I am co-owner and principal broker of Metro Real Estate in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I spend the majority of my time dealing with the complexities of real estate transactions. It is actually quite fascinating and as well mentally challenging. I like being able to help people achieve their real estate dreams.

Over the past ten years or so I have been working on a new climber's guide to the Tennessee Wall. I am finally, just now, publishing it. We will be shipping it in late February of this year. You can read about the guide, explore the Tennessee Wall and as well order the guide online at www.TennesseeWall.com 5% of the gross sales of the guide will be donated to the Southeast Climbers Coalition. I think it's important to support the outstanding efforts of this non-profit organization which has done so much for the southern climbing community.

I still climb off and on. I think it's probably hard for any young climber that loves the sport to imagine a day where they see themselves slowing down, doing less, or becoming less interested or passionate about the sport. But I think that is inevitable for anyone who has put a lot of time and energy into something as grueling and demanding as climbing. It takes a lot of effort to stay in the kind of shape you need to be to climb at the higher standards, and aging (I'll be 50 this year) along with old joint injuries and the ever present possibility of new strains does not help things. I'm a lot more laid back about climbing now, and more focused having fun. I don't feel the need to push myself like I used to.

In recent years I have gotten into yoga a bit, but my interest waxes and wans. I've thought about giving whitewater kayaking a try. The problem is once you've spent a large part of your life living and breathing "the vertical world" there's nothing that can replace it.

SCC: You have referenced Carlos Castaneda ("The Teachings of Don Juan") in guide books and in conversation. How has that character (or books) influenced your climbing and mental state?

Rob: It has been a long time since I read any of Castaneda's stuff. What has interested me is how Castaneda's concept of "reality" was challenged and transformed through his association and experiences with his teacher Don Juan. A lot of emphasis has been put on his use of hallucinogen-inducing mescaline and mushrooms, but my sense is those were just tools Don Juan used to help shatter his students concept of "reality" ... to show them that there can, in fact, be other realities beyond our everyday commonplace shared reality -- the one which we all agree and believe is "real." I think climbing in its own way can be similarly transformative. Climbing is a sort of "separate reality." The world, or more accurately stated, your world, your reality, begins to change with that first step off the ground. And the rest of the world, or the perception of it that you hold in your head -- the so-called "real world" -- that is "out there" falls away into the void when you begin to focus your attention on the rock in front of you. Your state of awareness becomes profoundly altered. It's a different world up there. Through climbing we can learn to become a "navigator of infinity."

SCC: You were a founding member of the SCC and contributed heavily to its start. What do you see in the future of climbing access?

Rob: I think you give me far too much credit in that regard. While it is true we did start a fledgling organization (the Tennessee Climbers Association) that would later grow into the Southeastern Climbers Coalition the truth is our efforts could well have fizzled out were it not for people like Brad McCleod that took what we had started and worked hard to build it into what it is today. Quite frankly, I have been surprised to see just how successful the organization has become.

I continue to be quite concerned about access issues we face as a climbing community. I was very displeased to hear some time back that the National Park Service was, once again, "trial ballooning" a possible move to close Sunset to climbing. That sort of closure is simple unthinkable -- and unacceptable. Sunset is the cradle of southern sandstone climbing and as such it possesses great historical importance to us as a climbing community. Not to mention that the climbing there is simply superlative. It is the sort of loss we simply cannot afford.

I think it is important that climbers keep in foremost in their minds when they are out cragging -- especially at any area where access is sensitive -- that their conduct can have an adverse impact on us all as a community.

Besides working to keep areas open I hope to see us gain access to to other areas currently closed or private. I'm thinking, in particular, of Yellow Creek Falls and all of Yellow Bluff.

SCC: When your not climbing what are you up to?

Rob: Hanging out with my wife, playing with the dog, working on real estate deals, fretting about getting older but also finding it amusing, a bit of yoga here and there and, in general, just enjoying life. I don't spend much time training in the gym anymore. I do wish I was about 25 years old again though and shredding sandstone. I wouldn't trade my time in the vertical world for a billion dollars. Seriously.

SCC: Anything else we haven't covered?

Rob: I guess I'd have to say the recent loss of my friend John Bachar has really weighed on my mind. He died free soloing in July last year. Not long before his accident he had stayed at my house for about a month. In some ways his death was like losing a brother ... we shared a common climbing vision. A short essay John sent me is included in my new guide to the Tennessee Wall. John was not only the greatest climber in the world when he was at the height of his powers, but he was also a great guy -- and not the person a lot of people who didn't know him thought he was. I think the fact that he was so good at climbing bred a lot of envy, jealousy and animosity in many people who, I guess, wished they were capable of doing what he could do. Like the old saying goes ... "it's lonely at the top."

SCC: Thanks Rob!