Los Banditos
Story by: Dave Roscoe Hodson
Story by: Dave Roscoe Hodson
What the heck is that? Something looked weird but I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. I rubbed my eyes, maybe it was a bit of sand or dirt knocked down by Dan who was sixty feet above me and leading while I paid out the line. I was anchored on a small ledge, about three hundred feet up this tower on my first climb in Monument Valley.
A few minutes before, I had heard a bell. It took a few minutes but I finally found the source; a small herd of sheep and a Navaho boy tending them. I looked out toward the horizon again and realized that there was a plane flying my way. I kept focused on it as it quickly closed in. It blew past and I realized that it was a B-52 bomber that was flying dangerously close to the ground. Those eight jet engines were belching black smoke and made a mighty roar as it zipped past. That’s the sort of thing you don’t see every day.
Back in the 1980’s and 90’s I spent time with a small group of young men who called themselves, “Los Banditos”.
They illegally climbed sandstone towers on the Navajo reservation including Chinle Spire, Shiprock, Spider Rock and many towers in Monument Valley.
The Banditos loved climbing and adventure.
The core group consisted of Stan Mish, Glenn Rink, Dan Langmade and Jeff Bowman.
They got started when Stan, Glenn and Jeff climbed Shiprock and then climbed a new route on Monument Valley’s iconic Totem Pole spire.
Dan soon joined Stan to climb the Three Sisters and the King on the Throne in Monument Valley.
They started calling themselves “Los Banditos” since they were climbing outlaws and the fact that Dan and Stan were both Harley riders. They thought it would be fun to take on a biker image. Always the pranksters, they would wear leather motorcycle jackets while climbing and causing other climbers to wonder what was going on? The lads couldn’t be further from real bikers. For the most part, they were law-abiding, fun-loving rock climbers with a twisted sense of humor. They thought it was funny to leave a copy of “Easyrider” biker magazine on summits as a calling card. All about the fun.
Their patron saint was Warren Harding, the bad-boy renegade of Yosemite who thumbed his nose at the rules established by the Yosemite elite.
Part of the draw to rock climbing is the danger and climbing on the Rez added to the risk.
Banditos loved climbing on the reservation. The place looked like Mars with the red soil and stone. The land and the sky seemed to have a red glow most mornings and evenings, created a surreal experience. It was deathly quiet, most of the time.
Banditos were a different breed. They were out looking for fun and adventure and weren’t worried about bending a few rules. One would never find this level of adventure while climbing with the mountaineering clubs.
Most of them had started climbing with the local mountaineering club, but the rules, leadership and bureaucracy held them back from real adventure. They also disdained the prima donnas and self-appointed holy men who took themselves seriously.
Before long, Dan, Stan and Glenn were free climbing some of the local Phoenix area aid routes. They had moved on from the climbing clubs and were pushing the limits.
They were aware of the risks incurred while climbing on reservation and willingly accepted them as part of the deal.
Sandstone can be loose and dirty and dangerous to climb.
Possibility of rescue and/or medical help would take many hours to initiate. There were no cell phones. If someone was injured, it was a long drive to Kayenta for a phone. Flagstaff was the closest source of help and it was a three-hour drive to Monument Valley. There was no rescue team on standby, it would be a long wait for help to arrive.
Climbing on the rez was illegal unless you handed the tribe a big chunk of money. Apparently, it was OK to climb a tower if you were making a movie or a TV commercial. If the tribal police caught a lowly climber, all the climbing gear would be impounded and citations would be issued. Quite honestly, Banditos climbing the towers was closely related to going to church. They weren’t religious but they had great reverence for the land.
Two of the boys were climbing a tower, their truck parked on the road below. They ignored the police below when they heard a horn honking as they approached the summit. When they topped out, they noticed their truck was being towed away. They rappelled to the ground and fortunately the police were nowhere in sight. They hiked out past the park boundary, staying away from the road. To minimize their loss, they stashed the bulk of their gear near a big boulder for retrieval at a later time. They hiked back into the park headquarters to face the music. Citations were issued and their gear, which included the oldest pack, the oldest rope and a handful of gear was confiscated. They hitched a ride back to Kayenta where their truck had been taken. Lacking enough cash, they left a camera as collateral.
Glenn and Dan climbed Spider Rock in Canyon de Chelly. They walked past an occupied hogan in the bottom of the canyon to start the climb. After they topped out on the climb and descended, they went past the hogan again. This time there were some young Navajo boys who started following them on the trail out of the canyon. They wanted to avoid problems with the locals so they poured on the coals to try to out distance the kids. The kids stayed right with them all the way to their truck. Turned out the kids just wanted a ride into town.
I had been a local climber for several years and was aware of these characters.
A few minutes before, I had heard a bell. It took a few minutes but I finally found the source; a small herd of sheep and a Navaho boy tending them. I looked out toward the horizon again and realized that there was a plane flying my way. I kept focused on it as it quickly closed in. It blew past and I realized that it was a B-52 bomber that was flying dangerously close to the ground. Those eight jet engines were belching black smoke and made a mighty roar as it zipped past. That’s the sort of thing you don’t see every day.
Back in the 1980’s and 90’s I spent time with a small group of young men who called themselves, “Los Banditos”.
They illegally climbed sandstone towers on the Navajo reservation including Chinle Spire, Shiprock, Spider Rock and many towers in Monument Valley.
The Banditos loved climbing and adventure.
The core group consisted of Stan Mish, Glenn Rink, Dan Langmade and Jeff Bowman.
They got started when Stan, Glenn and Jeff climbed Shiprock and then climbed a new route on Monument Valley’s iconic Totem Pole spire.
Dan soon joined Stan to climb the Three Sisters and the King on the Throne in Monument Valley.
They started calling themselves “Los Banditos” since they were climbing outlaws and the fact that Dan and Stan were both Harley riders. They thought it would be fun to take on a biker image. Always the pranksters, they would wear leather motorcycle jackets while climbing and causing other climbers to wonder what was going on? The lads couldn’t be further from real bikers. For the most part, they were law-abiding, fun-loving rock climbers with a twisted sense of humor. They thought it was funny to leave a copy of “Easyrider” biker magazine on summits as a calling card. All about the fun.
Their patron saint was Warren Harding, the bad-boy renegade of Yosemite who thumbed his nose at the rules established by the Yosemite elite.
Part of the draw to rock climbing is the danger and climbing on the Rez added to the risk.
Banditos loved climbing on the reservation. The place looked like Mars with the red soil and stone. The land and the sky seemed to have a red glow most mornings and evenings, created a surreal experience. It was deathly quiet, most of the time.
Banditos were a different breed. They were out looking for fun and adventure and weren’t worried about bending a few rules. One would never find this level of adventure while climbing with the mountaineering clubs.
Most of them had started climbing with the local mountaineering club, but the rules, leadership and bureaucracy held them back from real adventure. They also disdained the prima donnas and self-appointed holy men who took themselves seriously.
Before long, Dan, Stan and Glenn were free climbing some of the local Phoenix area aid routes. They had moved on from the climbing clubs and were pushing the limits.
They were aware of the risks incurred while climbing on reservation and willingly accepted them as part of the deal.
Sandstone can be loose and dirty and dangerous to climb.
Possibility of rescue and/or medical help would take many hours to initiate. There were no cell phones. If someone was injured, it was a long drive to Kayenta for a phone. Flagstaff was the closest source of help and it was a three-hour drive to Monument Valley. There was no rescue team on standby, it would be a long wait for help to arrive.
Climbing on the rez was illegal unless you handed the tribe a big chunk of money. Apparently, it was OK to climb a tower if you were making a movie or a TV commercial. If the tribal police caught a lowly climber, all the climbing gear would be impounded and citations would be issued. Quite honestly, Banditos climbing the towers was closely related to going to church. They weren’t religious but they had great reverence for the land.
Two of the boys were climbing a tower, their truck parked on the road below. They ignored the police below when they heard a horn honking as they approached the summit. When they topped out, they noticed their truck was being towed away. They rappelled to the ground and fortunately the police were nowhere in sight. They hiked out past the park boundary, staying away from the road. To minimize their loss, they stashed the bulk of their gear near a big boulder for retrieval at a later time. They hiked back into the park headquarters to face the music. Citations were issued and their gear, which included the oldest pack, the oldest rope and a handful of gear was confiscated. They hitched a ride back to Kayenta where their truck had been taken. Lacking enough cash, they left a camera as collateral.
Glenn and Dan climbed Spider Rock in Canyon de Chelly. They walked past an occupied hogan in the bottom of the canyon to start the climb. After they topped out on the climb and descended, they went past the hogan again. This time there were some young Navajo boys who started following them on the trail out of the canyon. They wanted to avoid problems with the locals so they poured on the coals to try to out distance the kids. The kids stayed right with them all the way to their truck. Turned out the kids just wanted a ride into town.
I had been a local climber for several years and was aware of these characters.
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Dan
Dan and I had some construction classes together at ASU in the mid 70’s. Dan did a presentation for our equipment class on concrete vibrators and had the class in stitches with his double-entendre references to the vibrators. Dan’s nickname was “Spider Dan”. He loved climbing big peaks in Peru and Nepal. Banditos made their own bolt hangers down at Dan’s metal shop. They cut the aluminum, punched holes, bent them to shape on a machine and then stamped names on each batch. The names I remember are, “Bandito”, “no gud”, “oh shit” and “bad bolt”. They tested them between a steel building column and a forklift. They passed the test in the shop; they should work on the rock. |
Dan Langmade and Roscoe
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Dan and Stan love to ride their hogs to local crags and then wore their leather jackets while climbing. Their zany sense of humor had other climbers scratching their heads.
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Glenn
Glenn’s grandfather had been a boat captain in Alaska on the Copper River long ago. That must have influenced him to become a river runner. Glenn and Dan were pals from high school and had started climbing together. Glenn was a good climber, but his love of the river eventually influenced the rest of the Banditos. We all took up river running to supplement our steady diet of rock climbing. After I became friends with Glenn, he invited me on a Grand Canyon River trip in June of 1985. I had to quit my job and left my pregnant wife at home for two weeks. With her being a rock climber and a paddler, she supported my adventure on the river. The trip awakened me to the possibilities of the river. |
Glenn Rink and Roscoe
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I went home and learned to roll my kayak. As our daughters got older, I began taking the family on river trips which provided wonderful family time together and educate the kids on the many joys and beauty of nature. It was a natural progression as I got older and the rock climbing became harder.
Back before kids, my wife and climbing partner, Dee, joined Glenn’s girlfriend to paddle kayaks down Utah’s San Juan River on a self-supported trip shortly after my Grand Canyon trip. In true Bandito fashion, they had no permit for their self-supported four-day trip and neither could successfully roll a kayak.
Back before kids, my wife and climbing partner, Dee, joined Glenn’s girlfriend to paddle kayaks down Utah’s San Juan River on a self-supported trip shortly after my Grand Canyon trip. In true Bandito fashion, they had no permit for their self-supported four-day trip and neither could successfully roll a kayak.
Jeff
I met Jeff Bowman in spring of 1978 at Granite Mountain. We were both preparing for a trip to Yosemite. Jeff introduced himself after I had just soloed an aid route. I was hoping for a successful second trip. My first climb of my first trip, the previous year had ended with a helicopter rescue after a partner took a long fall.
A few weeks later, we ran into each other at Camp 4. A few days later Jeff and I were climbing our first route together, the West Face of El Cap. We had the wall to ourselves for three days and nights. After the first two crux aid pitches, the difficulties were behind us. We shared our life stories on our first bivouac ledge. Jeff turned out to be a good partner and a man with a huge ego which matched his drive to climb. He was an interesting character who had been a up and coming baseball pitcher. A shoulder injury forced an early retirement from baseball.
A few days after we finished our climb, Jeff introduced me to Stan who had just climbed the Nose on El Cap to celebrate his eighteenth birthday.
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Stan
Stan quit high school when he was sixteen. Not that he couldn’t deal with high school, he was just bored and wanted to climb. He hopped freight trains in order to climb with a pal in Jackson Hole one winter. They lived in a Tee Pee. When the winter weather was clear, they would go out climbing rock, ice and snow. When the weather was bad, they stayed in the tee pee and read books while staying warm in their sleeping bags. I knew of Stan as a local punk teen with shaggy hair, mangy beard and tattered clothes. He was an up-and-coming dirtbag climber. Months later, Stan and Dan came knocking on my door. Stan knew that I was an aid climber and enlisted me to help him finish an aid route on Baboquivari Peak, down by the Mexican border. Glenn had been his partner on the climb. They climbed the worst of the difficult aid pitches up the overhanging rock and fixed ropes for their return. Glenn was off on a trip to Mexico and Stan, a guy who has little patience, just couldn’t wait for his return. I was off on another big wall with a new partner. I hadn’t climbed anything difficult since Yosemite and I was focused on my final year of school. From the hanging belay at the top of the fixed ropes, Stan put a thirty-pound rack around my neck that included every size nut and piton available. I looked down hundreds of |
Stan Mish
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feet of overhanging wall as if I had never done this before. It didn’t take Stan long to realize that I was like a deer in the headlights and he quickly relieved me of the rack. I watched as he swiftly climbed the pitch. I marveled at his speed, ability and strong determination of this young man. I got past my inertia after cleaning the pitch and managed to get my head together as we swapped leads.
That night on a small ledge, we shared a can of tuna, substituting pitons for forks and drank water from an anti-freeze bottle. We watched the shadow of Babo race east, towards Tucson while the sun was setting behind us. It was a beautiful place to be at that moment.
We talked and got to know each other. I was having a good time with my new partner. For a punk kid, almost nine years younger than me, he was fun and had a quick mind. We got to the summit the next evening and were forced to bivouac during the descent. The high school dropout would go on to get an engineering degree at ASU.
In 1980, Stan and Dan found out that I was a Harley rider and they came roaring up on Saturday night at my place to crash my party.
I greeted them as they walked in. In true Bandito fashion, they headed to the kitchen and began rummaging through the refrigerator in an effort to test me for a reaction. I was amused by this ruse to find out if I was uptight. I told them to help themselves, which immediately killed their gag. They were just having fun and trying to stir things up.
They started pulling me into their boy’s club and I started riding with them.
I was the oldest of the group but age didn’t matter to these young guys. Stan and Glenn always seemed to have good ideas for climbing project as they seemed as if they were the kids who could never sit still. I was laid-back most of the time and was happy to let them set a climbing agenda. I was happy just to be part of the group and would take part in whatever idea they had come up with as the next adventure.
I had a couple of years in the Army which led me to climbing right after I was discharged. I had been climbing with guys who were right around my age.
But now, things were changing. A two of them had sustained serious injuries, a few had moved to Tucson and one was busy with his new wife and building a home in Prescott.
It was a turbulent time in my life and “change” was the word of the day. I came home after the adventure in Yosemite where, at twenty-five, I smoked my first joint and started work as a carpenter, I began questioning my religious upbringing and split up with my wife.
I needed these big changes and I also found my perfect mate in a young woman who became my new climbing partner. Then we went to Yosemite for another big wall adventure when Jeff introduced me to Stan.
Stan and Dan put on a show at the local climbing shop to share photos of some of their climbs together. Stan was quite the entertainer and began by speaking to the audience while juggling tomatoes. He talked and kept taking bites of the fruit as he juggled. The tomatoes kept getting smaller. They were both witty lads and it was an entertaining show. They had the crowd laughing.
Those two had recently climbed the second ascent of the “Dragon Route” in the Black Canyon of the Gunnison of Colorado. They free climbed much of the aid and made the top in a day and a half. The first ascent had taken nine days.
We rode to Tucson one Friday evening and Dan decided to show off his biking skills. He set his throttle screw and then stood up on the seat with his arms out, like Jesus on the cross, as we motored south on the I-10.
The Bandito boys realized that, for an old guy, I was fun to have along on a trip. We shared a twisted sense of humor and had fun climbing together, paddling or just hanging out
When I joined them for a trip, I knew that I was in for a balls-to-the-wall adventure and I wouldn’t get much rest. As they say, you can sleep when you’re dead.
Mimi was a girlfriend of Stan’s for a while. She climbed Chinle Spire with Dan making her the first of the Bandito women. She would later climb the Shield route on El Cap.
In July of 1982, I joined Dan for my first climb on the Rez. Five minutes after leaving the paved highway, his truck got stuck in the sand. I lost the coin flip to go get help. I found myself on the side of a lonesome road with my thumb out. Two Navajo cowboys thought it was odd to have a white guy out in the middle of nowhere thumbing, but they gave me a ride back to Kayenta. Dan and I climbed the tower the next day. The prominent tower can be seen in the movie when Forest Gump quits his endless run.
Many years have passed since my days of adventuring with Los Banditos but we have remained friends. I showed up for the recent Granite Mountain get together/party and was happy to spend time with Glenn, Stan, Jeff and many other old friends.
I look back and realize how lucky I was to get involved with this group of active and highly motivated young people. They were a good influence in my life and I learned much from them to help me become a better person.
I’m in my seventies now and my bones are brittle, my judgment is poor and I can’t go out on the same adventures. I miss those days of fun and adventure with those zany characters.
That night on a small ledge, we shared a can of tuna, substituting pitons for forks and drank water from an anti-freeze bottle. We watched the shadow of Babo race east, towards Tucson while the sun was setting behind us. It was a beautiful place to be at that moment.
We talked and got to know each other. I was having a good time with my new partner. For a punk kid, almost nine years younger than me, he was fun and had a quick mind. We got to the summit the next evening and were forced to bivouac during the descent. The high school dropout would go on to get an engineering degree at ASU.
In 1980, Stan and Dan found out that I was a Harley rider and they came roaring up on Saturday night at my place to crash my party.
I greeted them as they walked in. In true Bandito fashion, they headed to the kitchen and began rummaging through the refrigerator in an effort to test me for a reaction. I was amused by this ruse to find out if I was uptight. I told them to help themselves, which immediately killed their gag. They were just having fun and trying to stir things up.
They started pulling me into their boy’s club and I started riding with them.
I was the oldest of the group but age didn’t matter to these young guys. Stan and Glenn always seemed to have good ideas for climbing project as they seemed as if they were the kids who could never sit still. I was laid-back most of the time and was happy to let them set a climbing agenda. I was happy just to be part of the group and would take part in whatever idea they had come up with as the next adventure.
I had a couple of years in the Army which led me to climbing right after I was discharged. I had been climbing with guys who were right around my age.
But now, things were changing. A two of them had sustained serious injuries, a few had moved to Tucson and one was busy with his new wife and building a home in Prescott.
It was a turbulent time in my life and “change” was the word of the day. I came home after the adventure in Yosemite where, at twenty-five, I smoked my first joint and started work as a carpenter, I began questioning my religious upbringing and split up with my wife.
I needed these big changes and I also found my perfect mate in a young woman who became my new climbing partner. Then we went to Yosemite for another big wall adventure when Jeff introduced me to Stan.
Stan and Dan put on a show at the local climbing shop to share photos of some of their climbs together. Stan was quite the entertainer and began by speaking to the audience while juggling tomatoes. He talked and kept taking bites of the fruit as he juggled. The tomatoes kept getting smaller. They were both witty lads and it was an entertaining show. They had the crowd laughing.
Those two had recently climbed the second ascent of the “Dragon Route” in the Black Canyon of the Gunnison of Colorado. They free climbed much of the aid and made the top in a day and a half. The first ascent had taken nine days.
We rode to Tucson one Friday evening and Dan decided to show off his biking skills. He set his throttle screw and then stood up on the seat with his arms out, like Jesus on the cross, as we motored south on the I-10.
The Bandito boys realized that, for an old guy, I was fun to have along on a trip. We shared a twisted sense of humor and had fun climbing together, paddling or just hanging out
When I joined them for a trip, I knew that I was in for a balls-to-the-wall adventure and I wouldn’t get much rest. As they say, you can sleep when you’re dead.
Mimi was a girlfriend of Stan’s for a while. She climbed Chinle Spire with Dan making her the first of the Bandito women. She would later climb the Shield route on El Cap.
In July of 1982, I joined Dan for my first climb on the Rez. Five minutes after leaving the paved highway, his truck got stuck in the sand. I lost the coin flip to go get help. I found myself on the side of a lonesome road with my thumb out. Two Navajo cowboys thought it was odd to have a white guy out in the middle of nowhere thumbing, but they gave me a ride back to Kayenta. Dan and I climbed the tower the next day. The prominent tower can be seen in the movie when Forest Gump quits his endless run.
Many years have passed since my days of adventuring with Los Banditos but we have remained friends. I showed up for the recent Granite Mountain get together/party and was happy to spend time with Glenn, Stan, Jeff and many other old friends.
I look back and realize how lucky I was to get involved with this group of active and highly motivated young people. They were a good influence in my life and I learned much from them to help me become a better person.
I’m in my seventies now and my bones are brittle, my judgment is poor and I can’t go out on the same adventures. I miss those days of fun and adventure with those zany characters.