Illustrations by Patricia, Dan Langmade's wife
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The Banditos were a bunch of high school friends that became accomplished climbers by senior year. Bandito gang: Stan Mish, Dan Langmade, Glenn Rink, Jeff Bowman and Dave Hodson. They climbed heavily at the crags in the Phoenix AZ area, and in 1977 they started visiting the Navajo lands in Monument Valley and throughout the Southwest. The Banditos became known for their biker image, climbing while in costume, and their bolt hangers which had rude sayings stamped on them. Hangers were first created in 1978 stamped “BANDITO.” During the late 1970s another accomplished climber named Jim Waugh was sending all of the hard routes and was policing new bolting activity at the crags. The Banditos didn’t favor Jim’s authority and created a constant disturbance between the Bandito gang and Waugh. One night in 1978 the Banditos bolted the front door shut on Jim’s apartment. Jim for years denied the story but when he moved to Thailand mid 2000s, he stopped at my house first and donated the two Bandito front door hangers to the museum stating, “yes the story is true.”
The disturbance between the Banditos and Waugh could have started at the time Waugh started dating Mish’s girlfriend, or Waugh’s bolt chopping authority which the Banditos dubbed Waugh “Marshall Gud” and created the “NO GUD” Bandito hanger. I believe the NO GUD hanger is a warning for Waugh to not touch a Bandito route, and not because the bolt is bad. I state this because the hanger made for Waugh’s front door is stamped “M. GUD” not (M. GOOD).
For the full Bandito story : Rock & Ice magazine #89. “The Legend of Los Banditos” by Cameron M. Burns. Cameron writes: “As the gossip spread, the legend of the Banditos blossomed. They went from being a few directionless young men interested in climbing and motorcycles, to a pack of leather-clad heathens dragging their women around by their hair and hosting LSD-laden orgies under the desert moon.”
For history notes: Bandito hangers first made either 1978 or 1979. Two M. Gud hangers were holding Waugh’s front door shut. Front door of Waugh’s apartment, not his house.
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From Steelmnkey (Supertopo) - If I remember correctly, Dan Langmade's family had a machine shop where the Bandito hangers were punched out and stamped (after hours?).
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From rick d (Supertopo) - Hodson, Dee, Bill Vittel, Jaybro, Jay Schmidt, Jason Sands, Chris Pomeroy, and myself and a few others worked on the move of Desert Mountain Sports to 2824 Indian School after 16th street in 1987/88. Dave still had a harley then.
Jim's "front door" apartment I think was the only entrance. He had a big tree in front yard with bachar ladder and cup size (3 camalot) crack machine. It was near NW corner of papago park- thomas 40th street ish.
Langmade's dad had a sheet metal shop- I might have gone by the first time I met Dan.
We made a couple Al bandito hangers in '89 that were in the supes. Not bent well and kinda sub par all around.
and the Marshal thing originated because of things like chopping bolts on Rhythm and Blues as Jim believed you could just down climb the 5.6 chimney instead of leaving a hole. There were always bolts up there 1984 and later.
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From Steve Grossman (Supertopo) - The "NO GUD" stamp was just humor and not any sort of territorial pissing marker. In order to become a BANDITO BITD you had to climb something illegal on the rez.
My darling wife was the only gal to make the cut by climbing the second ascent of Chinle Spire with Dan. They topped out to find no rappel anchors since Eric Bjornstad and Fred Beckey while trying to free their rappel ropes had bounced the drilled piton anchors out of their holes in the soft cap stone! Dan and Mimi had to sacrifice a new 9mm rope to wrap the summit block and escape.
Dee Hodson may have also become a BANDITA but I never heard the initiation story.
GUD TIMES!!!
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The disturbance between the Banditos and Waugh could have started at the time Waugh started dating Mish’s girlfriend, or Waugh’s bolt chopping authority which the Banditos dubbed Waugh “Marshall Gud” and created the “NO GUD” Bandito hanger. I believe the NO GUD hanger is a warning for Waugh to not touch a Bandito route, and not because the bolt is bad. I state this because the hanger made for Waugh’s front door is stamped “M. GUD” not (M. GOOD).
For the full Bandito story : Rock & Ice magazine #89. “The Legend of Los Banditos” by Cameron M. Burns. Cameron writes: “As the gossip spread, the legend of the Banditos blossomed. They went from being a few directionless young men interested in climbing and motorcycles, to a pack of leather-clad heathens dragging their women around by their hair and hosting LSD-laden orgies under the desert moon.”
For history notes: Bandito hangers first made either 1978 or 1979. Two M. Gud hangers were holding Waugh’s front door shut. Front door of Waugh’s apartment, not his house.
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From Steelmnkey (Supertopo) - If I remember correctly, Dan Langmade's family had a machine shop where the Bandito hangers were punched out and stamped (after hours?).
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From rick d (Supertopo) - Hodson, Dee, Bill Vittel, Jaybro, Jay Schmidt, Jason Sands, Chris Pomeroy, and myself and a few others worked on the move of Desert Mountain Sports to 2824 Indian School after 16th street in 1987/88. Dave still had a harley then.
Jim's "front door" apartment I think was the only entrance. He had a big tree in front yard with bachar ladder and cup size (3 camalot) crack machine. It was near NW corner of papago park- thomas 40th street ish.
Langmade's dad had a sheet metal shop- I might have gone by the first time I met Dan.
We made a couple Al bandito hangers in '89 that were in the supes. Not bent well and kinda sub par all around.
and the Marshal thing originated because of things like chopping bolts on Rhythm and Blues as Jim believed you could just down climb the 5.6 chimney instead of leaving a hole. There were always bolts up there 1984 and later.
.................................................................
From Steve Grossman (Supertopo) - The "NO GUD" stamp was just humor and not any sort of territorial pissing marker. In order to become a BANDITO BITD you had to climb something illegal on the rez.
My darling wife was the only gal to make the cut by climbing the second ascent of Chinle Spire with Dan. They topped out to find no rappel anchors since Eric Bjornstad and Fred Beckey while trying to free their rappel ropes had bounced the drilled piton anchors out of their holes in the soft cap stone! Dan and Mimi had to sacrifice a new 9mm rope to wrap the summit block and escape.
Dee Hodson may have also become a BANDITA but I never heard the initiation story.
GUD TIMES!!!
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Dave "Roscoe" Hodson, June 2021
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Dan Langmade and Dave Hodson at the Phoenix Rock Gym 6/2021. Still loving climbing and are quite the characters. I talked to them more about the Marshall Gud story. They say they never had any anger toward Jim Waugh. However they really enjoyed picking on Jim throughout the years!
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Dave Hodson, Jim Waugh, Dan Langmade - PRG 6/2021
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Dan Langmade sporting Patagonia on the back cover of catalog Patagonia Software. c.1982
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Dan Langmade (Spiderdan) standing at the base of Merrick Butte in Monument Valley AZ after their FA in early 1980s. Photo by Dave Hodson.
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Gear from Dave Hodson's early climbing rack donated by Tyler Chellinor 9/2021. The lightening holes in the Chouinard Hexentric were home drilled by Dave in the early 1970s.
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Dan Langmade gear donation 6/2023
Clog Ascenders (R&L) Salewa Alpine hammer Regent Rosin Bag (Bowling?) Unknown Gear Sling Forrest Daisy Chain Camp Gear Sling |
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Chouinard Ice Screw (Broken tooth)
Salewa Ice Screw (Short) Unknown Bent Piton Langmade - Angle Piton Pierre Alain Carabiner Doug Black Ring Angle Piton Homemade Ice Axe Shaft Leash - (from Mary Nehlin, mfg ?) MSR orange Ice Axe Leash Stubai Ice Screw Short Stubai Ice Screw Long Langmade homemade RURP Layton Kor Bolt Hanger Bandito Bolt Hangers - Bent Production Item - Flat Production Item - Brenda Loves Dave - No Gud - No Gud Thin - No Gud broken bolt hole - Good Bolt - Bandito - Bandito Thin - Bandito - Bandito - Bandito - Bandito (broken) - Bad Bolt (broken) |
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Tribal Rite - Dave Roscoe Hodson
We left town on Friday night and drove five hours. We stopped for the night just
off the road a few miles from Kayenta on the Navajo Reservation. We woke up
Saturday morning and jumped into Dan’s truck. A half an hour later we were
driving through picturesque Monument Valley on the border of Arizona and Utah.
I saw huge sandstone towers everywhere I looked and everything was red. The
red soil, the towering sandstone spires and buttes provided a dramatic landscape.
Vegetation was almost non-existent with an occasional stunted Juniper and lots of
short gray sage brush. As we drove down the main highway, Dan pointed to a
500-foot-tall butte called “Shangri-la”. This was our goal.
We turned off onto a seldom used dirt road and drove a quarter mile until the
truck bogged down in soft sand. We were hopelessly mired. The fact that we
were trespassing on Indian reservation was bad. We flipped a coin to see who
would go get help and soon, I started walking back to the highway hoping to snag
a ride back to Kayenta.
It just so happened that I was a Project Manager for a new Middle School that
was currently under construction. I flew up to visit the project once a month. It
was Saturday morning and I didn’t know if anyone would be at the jobsite but I
walked over to the school and was overjoyed to find a mechanical contractor on
the job. I explained my situation that I needed help. He agreed, but not until his
workday was over. Fair enough, so I waited in the shade of the building all day
until he was ready.
We hopped into his pickup truck and headed back North to the turnoff. We found
Dan and the truck in the same place patiently waiting. Dan sacrificed his older
rope for the worthwhile cause and in about two minutes, the truck had been
pulled out of the sand. We thanked him and followed him out to the main
highway.
We were hot, sweaty and dirty as we drove North to the town of Mexican Hat
which lay right on the San Juan River. The river water was warm and muddy and
it cooled us off. We bought a couple of cold drinks and headed back South in the
late afternoon. We turned onto a different dirt road in the same area and followed
it back to the shady side of a big mesa where we camped for the night. I
called this the Bandito Hideout. The shade and the seclusion behind a big mesa
known as “The Stagecoach” made the place a great campsite.
We rose early and drove back to the highway, then back South. After a mile, we
turned onto another dirt road that headed directly towards the tower. We
passed a Hogan shortly before we parked the truck but didn’t see anyone. We
huffed and puffed our way up the 45-degree boulder strewn slope to the spire.
Dan led me up to the start the route and we put on harnesses, uncoiled ropes and
sorted gear.
Dan put the gear sling over his head and shoulder, tied into the rope and took off
up a crack in the soft dark brown mud-like rock. He moved slowly and
deliberately up the fragile stone, showering me with bits of mud and small rocks.
After he ran out the rope, he anchored and I soon followed him, removing the
gear he had placed to protect him from a long fall. As I removed the gear he had
placed, I wondered how well they would hold in that soft rock.
As I geared up for my turn, I noticed that the rock above looked more solid. I
entered a big dark chimney and I made steady progress. I felt more confident
when I found good protection placements where I slotted nuts that seemed solid.
But I remained vigilant as I climbed. I gingerly moved upward and made steady
progress. There was lots of loose rock just waiting to be knocked off. I was trying
my best not to dislodge anything. At one point I brushed up against a basketball
size rock which crashed down the chimney like a pinball towards Dan. I was
horrified, but I watched it break up into smaller chunks. I yelled “Rock!” to warn
Dan who ducked under a projection. The stone shrapnel showered all around him
but he was unscathed. That was close! I continued upward until I found a good
blay ledge. I set up a good anchor and Dan followed up to the ledge.
It was a pleasant little ledge with a great view off to the East and West. Dan
followed as I pulled in the slack. He joined me on the ledge and sorted the gear
while catching his breath before heading up the next pitch. The July heat was
rising but the big chimney we were climbing was shady. The climbing was
progressing smoothly and we were making good progress. The route above was
obvious.
Dan led the next pitch as I fed out the line. He was climbing steadily and I was
enjoying looking out at the Mars-like landscape from my eagle’s perch, high on
this tower.
It seemed odd, but I thought I heard a bell. I kept hearing a bell and scanned the
landscape below. It took quite a while, but I finally saw some sheep grazing. I
then noticed a young boy and his dog that were apparently tending the sheep. I
hadn’t expected to see this.
It was quite a view I had, far above the ground. I was looking west and my eyes
were caught movement in the distant sky that was moving towards in my
direction. I was confused for a while, but I realized it was an airplane. Not just
any airplane, it was an eight-engine B-52 bomber flying much too close to the
ground. I was flabbergasted as it blasted past me at my level! Not something
that you see every day.
A year later I read about a B-52 crashing in Monument Valley after it glanced off
of one of the towers. Apparently, they practice flying low to avoid radar
detection.
Dan finished his lead and I quickly followed him up to his stance. We were close
to the summit now. We swapped the lead and I took off for the top.
I continued up the chimney and was happy when I stood on the summit with a
fantastic 360-degree view. I saw a thunderstorm quickly approaching, a common
occurrence during the summer monsoon season. I anchored and brought up Dan
who took some photos as I began setting up set up our rappel. With the storm
approaching, we retreated back down our route without delays as we raced the
storm while the rumble of the thunder got louder.
We paid close attention to loose rock as we rapped back down the ropes. This
was not the place to have an injury or accidentally chop a rope with a loose block.
We were all alone up here and possibility of rescue were as remote as the
landscape. In 1982, there were no cell phones, we were on our own. The danger
enhances the adventure.
After we finished the last rappel and coiled the ropes, I noticed that Dan looked as
if he had been doused with a bucket of red dirt. Climbing that sandstone was
dirty work.
It was late afternoon and the storm was quickly bearing down on us. We wasted
no time and hoisted our packs for the hike back to the truck. The steep loose
slope that we had struggled up that morning now seemed easy as we went
downhill.
With lightning cracking nearby, the rain began pelting us just before we reached
the truck. We tossed our gear in the back and jumped into the dry cab just as the
brunt of the storm kicked in. A few minutes later we were back on the highway
and heading home.
As we drove down the main highway towards Kayenta, we saw some horsed out
in the downpour. Dan asked me: “Do you know what happens when horses get
stuck out in the rain?” My response, “Yeah, they get wet!”
We left town on Friday night and drove five hours. We stopped for the night just
off the road a few miles from Kayenta on the Navajo Reservation. We woke up
Saturday morning and jumped into Dan’s truck. A half an hour later we were
driving through picturesque Monument Valley on the border of Arizona and Utah.
I saw huge sandstone towers everywhere I looked and everything was red. The
red soil, the towering sandstone spires and buttes provided a dramatic landscape.
Vegetation was almost non-existent with an occasional stunted Juniper and lots of
short gray sage brush. As we drove down the main highway, Dan pointed to a
500-foot-tall butte called “Shangri-la”. This was our goal.
We turned off onto a seldom used dirt road and drove a quarter mile until the
truck bogged down in soft sand. We were hopelessly mired. The fact that we
were trespassing on Indian reservation was bad. We flipped a coin to see who
would go get help and soon, I started walking back to the highway hoping to snag
a ride back to Kayenta.
It just so happened that I was a Project Manager for a new Middle School that
was currently under construction. I flew up to visit the project once a month. It
was Saturday morning and I didn’t know if anyone would be at the jobsite but I
walked over to the school and was overjoyed to find a mechanical contractor on
the job. I explained my situation that I needed help. He agreed, but not until his
workday was over. Fair enough, so I waited in the shade of the building all day
until he was ready.
We hopped into his pickup truck and headed back North to the turnoff. We found
Dan and the truck in the same place patiently waiting. Dan sacrificed his older
rope for the worthwhile cause and in about two minutes, the truck had been
pulled out of the sand. We thanked him and followed him out to the main
highway.
We were hot, sweaty and dirty as we drove North to the town of Mexican Hat
which lay right on the San Juan River. The river water was warm and muddy and
it cooled us off. We bought a couple of cold drinks and headed back South in the
late afternoon. We turned onto a different dirt road in the same area and followed
it back to the shady side of a big mesa where we camped for the night. I
called this the Bandito Hideout. The shade and the seclusion behind a big mesa
known as “The Stagecoach” made the place a great campsite.
We rose early and drove back to the highway, then back South. After a mile, we
turned onto another dirt road that headed directly towards the tower. We
passed a Hogan shortly before we parked the truck but didn’t see anyone. We
huffed and puffed our way up the 45-degree boulder strewn slope to the spire.
Dan led me up to the start the route and we put on harnesses, uncoiled ropes and
sorted gear.
Dan put the gear sling over his head and shoulder, tied into the rope and took off
up a crack in the soft dark brown mud-like rock. He moved slowly and
deliberately up the fragile stone, showering me with bits of mud and small rocks.
After he ran out the rope, he anchored and I soon followed him, removing the
gear he had placed to protect him from a long fall. As I removed the gear he had
placed, I wondered how well they would hold in that soft rock.
As I geared up for my turn, I noticed that the rock above looked more solid. I
entered a big dark chimney and I made steady progress. I felt more confident
when I found good protection placements where I slotted nuts that seemed solid.
But I remained vigilant as I climbed. I gingerly moved upward and made steady
progress. There was lots of loose rock just waiting to be knocked off. I was trying
my best not to dislodge anything. At one point I brushed up against a basketball
size rock which crashed down the chimney like a pinball towards Dan. I was
horrified, but I watched it break up into smaller chunks. I yelled “Rock!” to warn
Dan who ducked under a projection. The stone shrapnel showered all around him
but he was unscathed. That was close! I continued upward until I found a good
blay ledge. I set up a good anchor and Dan followed up to the ledge.
It was a pleasant little ledge with a great view off to the East and West. Dan
followed as I pulled in the slack. He joined me on the ledge and sorted the gear
while catching his breath before heading up the next pitch. The July heat was
rising but the big chimney we were climbing was shady. The climbing was
progressing smoothly and we were making good progress. The route above was
obvious.
Dan led the next pitch as I fed out the line. He was climbing steadily and I was
enjoying looking out at the Mars-like landscape from my eagle’s perch, high on
this tower.
It seemed odd, but I thought I heard a bell. I kept hearing a bell and scanned the
landscape below. It took quite a while, but I finally saw some sheep grazing. I
then noticed a young boy and his dog that were apparently tending the sheep. I
hadn’t expected to see this.
It was quite a view I had, far above the ground. I was looking west and my eyes
were caught movement in the distant sky that was moving towards in my
direction. I was confused for a while, but I realized it was an airplane. Not just
any airplane, it was an eight-engine B-52 bomber flying much too close to the
ground. I was flabbergasted as it blasted past me at my level! Not something
that you see every day.
A year later I read about a B-52 crashing in Monument Valley after it glanced off
of one of the towers. Apparently, they practice flying low to avoid radar
detection.
Dan finished his lead and I quickly followed him up to his stance. We were close
to the summit now. We swapped the lead and I took off for the top.
I continued up the chimney and was happy when I stood on the summit with a
fantastic 360-degree view. I saw a thunderstorm quickly approaching, a common
occurrence during the summer monsoon season. I anchored and brought up Dan
who took some photos as I began setting up set up our rappel. With the storm
approaching, we retreated back down our route without delays as we raced the
storm while the rumble of the thunder got louder.
We paid close attention to loose rock as we rapped back down the ropes. This
was not the place to have an injury or accidentally chop a rope with a loose block.
We were all alone up here and possibility of rescue were as remote as the
landscape. In 1982, there were no cell phones, we were on our own. The danger
enhances the adventure.
After we finished the last rappel and coiled the ropes, I noticed that Dan looked as
if he had been doused with a bucket of red dirt. Climbing that sandstone was
dirty work.
It was late afternoon and the storm was quickly bearing down on us. We wasted
no time and hoisted our packs for the hike back to the truck. The steep loose
slope that we had struggled up that morning now seemed easy as we went
downhill.
With lightning cracking nearby, the rain began pelting us just before we reached
the truck. We tossed our gear in the back and jumped into the dry cab just as the
brunt of the storm kicked in. A few minutes later we were back on the highway
and heading home.
As we drove down the main highway towards Kayenta, we saw some horsed out
in the downpour. Dan asked me: “Do you know what happens when horses get
stuck out in the rain?” My response, “Yeah, they get wet!”
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Dave Roscoe Hodson donation 7/2023
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Roscoe and Glenn Rink at Bob Millers 60th birthday in 2009
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Stan Mish, Dief and Marty, 2023
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Roscoe donated two North Face Cat's Meow sleeping bags February 2024 to the museum and said that he hopes I can find somebody that will have a use for them. So as I was taking pictures of the sleeping bags ........ 
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Gear donated by Roscoe - 2/2023
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Osprey Astro bag - from Roscoe
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Royal Robbins boots c.1970s worn by Roscoe. The shows have been resoled once where Roscoe grinded off the shoe tread to make the soles flat. Shoe Sends: Leaning Tower in Yosemite, ............
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Chouinard Cagoule from Dave Roscoe Hodson, light blue color, circa mid 1970s
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Chouinard Cord Knickers from Dave Roscoe Hodson, circa mid 1970s, so Cool!!!!
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