Right Dihedrals / Tolle Route
- Mike Morelli
- Jul 7
- 4 min read
Date:Â July 7, 2026
Location: Teton Range, Wyoming, USA
Team:Â Charlie Pirc
Field Notes: This is an incredible piece of climbing. Three pitches of sustained, technical climbing on beautiful granite. Follow the clearly defined summer trail into Rock Springs, and the trail spits you out pretty much at the base of the climb. We did 3 pitches with a 70m rope and brought a double rack. There are 5 DBA's throughout the climb depending on how you want to break it up.
After watching the USMNT disgrace themselves during the World Cup, Charlie and I needed something to lift our spirits.
So, naturally...we went climbing.
The forecast looked beautiful, and I had never climbed at Rock Springs before. Most of the routes there are still a little above my leading ability, but Right Dihedrals has a reputation as a classic, so we decided to give it a go.
We set off early, hiking through the grassy meadows that lead to the cliff. In hindsight, I probably should have packed a second pair of pants because by the time we reached the base of the route, we were absolutely soaked.
Every blade of grass and every plant was covered in fresh morning dew. We looked like we'd gone for a swim in the creek. We both laughed as we wrung water out of our socks.
One thing I appreciated was the gear rack at the base of the climb—a pole with hooks specifically for hanging packs and shoes away from the marmots, who apparently have a taste for climbing gear.
While studying the route, it looked stout. Just before we started, my cousin texted me,"I remember climbing that. It was pretty hard for the grade."
After climbing it, I'd say that's a fair assessment. The climbing is relentlessly sustained. It felt like every move demanded technical climbing on steep terrain.
I led the first pitch, and the climbing started immediately. It was fairly straightforward, with one awkward bulge before reaching the chains. A short pitch, but the next two were where the real climbing began.
Charlie took the second pitch. He shook off a few nerves and started methodically working his way up the left-facing corner: place gear, move the feet, find another placement, repeat.
The climbing was definitely technical, but more than anything, it was relentless.
About halfway through the pitch, I could see Charlie settle down. The nerves disappeared, and he dropped into flow, where the fun started outweighing the fear.
When I followed the pitch, I understood why.
Personally, I actually thought the second pitch was harder than the third, even though the third is considered the crux. There’s one delicate traverse out of the dihedral into the next corner system that had my heart racing.
Funny enough, Charlie thought that section was easy. Climbing is funny like that.
Now it was my turn to lead the final pitch.
The route starts in another left-facing corner before pulling a bulge and finishing through two roof sections involving underclings and laybacks.
I climbed through the corner feeling fantastic and pulled over the bulge without issue. My confidence kept building. I felt calm, focused, and in the zone.
I found myself beneath the first roof, placed a purple cam, and paused.
So far, everything had felt straightforward. Better than that—I felt amazing. There wasn't any fear. I was simply focused on moving upward.
I committed to the undercling, which transitioned into a layback. The hands felt solid. The feet felt solid.
I distinctly remember smiling,"I've got this."
I made what I thought was the crux move......and then suddenly—I fell.
As I pitched backward into space, I remember feeling nothing but shock.
How?
At no point during those moves had I felt unstable or thought I might fall. Looking back, I shifted my weight off my feet too early in the layback, and my right foot simply cut loose.
Then the shock became fear.
For a split second, my brain went into absolute chaos as I accelerated backward through empty space. And then...I stopped. The purple cam held.
"FUCK!"Â I yelled.
Charlie immediately asked if I was okay. I was. More than anything, I was just surprised.
I'd never taken a real trad whipper before. Earlier in the year I'd fallen onto gear at City of Rocks, but that was more of a three-foot slide than a real fall. This one was legitimate. And my gear worked exactly as it was supposed to.
Within ten seconds of collecting myself, I told Charlie I was climbing again. The last thing I wanted was to sit there and let doubt creep into my head. I'd been climbing well all day and my mindset was good.
I'd simply made a mistake with my body position and I wasn't going to make it twice.
And I didn't. I climbed straight back to the roof, executed the sequence cleanly, and continued through the second roof with confidence.
Looking back, the fall was incredibly humbling. Mostly because I had allowed my ego to sneak in. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wanted to "climb it clean" - Whatever the fuck that means. It means nothing.
The real takeaway was much more valuable. Slow down. Protect the crux well. Double up if necessary.
Had I placed one more piece before committing to the roof, I would have dramatically shortened the fall.
Charlie made a great point afterward - "You probably learned more today by falling than you would have if you'd climbed it clean."
The part of climbing I enjoy most isn't sending every route perfectly or climbing grades. It's growing. It's learning. It's pushing myself. Ultimately - it's about being in the mountains.
While I'd certainly like to keep trad falls to an absolute minimum—especially in the alpine—this one gave me a lesson I'll carry with me for a long time.
And hopefully it'll prevent me from making the same mistake again.
Regardless, Right Dihedrals is a brilliant climb.
I'd describe it as a shorter version of Guides Wall—with arguably even better climbing.
Happy days...