Magician’s Hat 5.9, Illusion Crags

Climbed on August 16, 2025

Fun Rating: Must climb, an unsung classic.

Sometimes…well a lot of the time if we’re being honest, I feel like I’m a fake. Here I am writing about just repeating the first ascents of someone who was actually bold and had vision, instead of actually getting out there after it myself. While I never really thought this would take off and become something well known or interesting to folks (spoiler: it hasn’t) I thought, and still do think, that surely someone out there will want to do some of the more obscure climbs on the JHAT, and if so they would appreciate more information being available to them about those routes. Thus far that has not happened, as far as I am aware, but the beauty of the internet is that I don’t ever have to know about someone getting value from this in order for them to glean said value. So, the thing that makes me feel like a fake, or lesser than, or whatever… is that I’m kind of a weak little baby boy. I get scared looking at offwidths from below. I set off from anchors with reluctance and trepidation often. I don’t climb particularly hard. It feels like there should be someone better than me doing this project. Someone braver, with more experience, who doesn’t have a day job. Someone whose opinion would actually matter when read by hopeful future JHATters.

As it stands, that person doesn’t seem to exist. There are plenty of people much stronger than me climbing Herbst routes, but none of them seem interested in writing about it. There are also plenty of people writing about climbing, but as far as I can tell none of them are interested in trying to repeat all of Joe Herbst’s FAs and write about them for no money and perhaps a little infamy. In lieu of the right person for the job doing this, I will do this right now. Perhaps that makes me the right person, in something of a tautology.

Anyway, I think that’s a solid amount of waffle to start the blog, so we may as well kick into the parts you’re actually here for, imaginary person reading this who likely doesn’t exist.

By the time we had finished our hike up a seemingly endless hill webbed by social trails, and far too many cairns in far too many directions, I had fully soaked through my tank top and sun hoody. The air was warm at the Illusion Crags. Despite the fact that our summer had been unusually mild, August in Las Vegas is never properly cool. This was exacerbated by the fact that, having only been to this crag in the winter, I was certain that the right side of the wall would go into the shade mid-morning. I was wrong. We wandered the crag, arguing about which poorly-documented line was which, hoping that the sun would finally sneak far enough behind the wall that Zak could start up Slight of Hand, another Herbst route for another writeup. As the sun got higher in the sky, it became clear to us that unless we wanted to wait until after noon, we would have to do some climbing in the sun. As Slight of Hand is a finger crack, I felt like I should probably take one for the team and put up the awkward wide crack so Zak didn’t need to climb something so thin in the summer sun.

I was intrigued as I stood at the base of the pitch looking up, gear adding a pleasant weight to the harness pulling gently at my hips. The start looked a little awkward, leading into the kind of slab that looks like it could be either a total walk or nails hard, before the crack led to a fairly large roof traverse. This seldom-climbed Herbst 5.9 named “Magician’s Hat” seemed to have a wide breadth of potential outcomes and experiences, and I was hoping that it would be fun. With only a modicum of dithering I set off and was pleased at how physical and straightforward the start was. Some weirdness and wackness later, I was standing at the base of the slab I had spied from the ground. Neither a total walk, nor nails hard in this case, it presented a handful of moves at a thoughtful but moderate level before establishing you somewhat comfortably at the base of the roof traverse.

A terrible photo of Zak after the crux traverse.

I often find myself in places like this. A solid rest or bomber ledge just before uncertain and difficult-looking climbing. It’s always nice to be able to get it all back but the struggle to set off is far more pronounced when where you are setting off from is so delightfully safe-feeling. The maw of the roof loomed above me, and while I could see feet I wasn’t particularly enthused by them. At best, this would require some strong and solid moves prior to pulling an arete and establishing on the face. At worst…well there’s lots of things you could imagine in this space. After taking probably too long to look and dither and decide upon my plan of action, I set off into the abyss.

As with many routes I’ve climbed, the fine details are blurry to me but the experience is crystal clear. I remember a slick traverse laybacking the roof. I remember feeling strong and solid as I placed gear to protect myself and Zak. I remember the elation of feeling proud and powerful as I pulled the lip and established myself in the wide crack above. The details of how big the feet were or whether it was juggy or blocky or sloping are lost in the aether, gone and unimportant to me now compared to the raucous joy of succeeding in something difficult, in the experience of believing that my body was strong enough and my technique solid enough to keep me safe and moving and climbing. I imagine that sort of detail would be helpful to would-be repeaters of this route, but I strongly believe that mystery and discovery are a solid portion of the enjoyment found in climbing, and particularly in the type of climbing typically found on the Joe Herbst Appreciation Tour. My favorite climbs that I’ve ticked off have been the most obscure ones. The routes that you can find a couple sentences about across 4 separate guidebooks, and good luck finding anything about them on Mountain Project. I don’t think I would have been a very bold climber back in the 70s, but with the conveniences of modern protection and gear I find myself enjoying the adventure the most on many climbs, the feeling that perhaps this is what it was like to get a copy of Joanne’s Red Book and go hunting for “the attractive crack splitting the wall.” Finely detailed and exhaustive descriptions of anchor placements and play by play paragraphs of text explaining every move on a crux? Not here, and no thank you. The discovery and experience of discovering seem to add so much to the experience, and take these climbs from a fun day out to something occasionally transcendental. There’s something so meaningful about the self-belief required to rock up to a crack and know that you can get up it and get off safely. You may not know how, you may end up needing to leave something expensive behind, but that’s the cost of playing the game and is part of the accepted give and take involved in doing something so useless that somehow provides so much meaning.

The rest of the route flew by, a friendly wide crack reminiscent of an FA Zak and I did over in Willow earlier this year. I don’t remember how I got off of this one, but I have a photo of a nest of tat we retrieved and disposed of, so I have to assume we tied off a tree or horn or something. Perhaps there was a bolted anchor up there? This is the kind of stuff that fades from my memory, replaced with the feeling of solidity on the traverse and the excitement of looking up at the slab above me and knowing that the crux is there waiting for me. We eventually did Slight of Hand as well, still in the sun of course (sorry Zak) and I don’t remember that route at all. I’ll have to go back and climb that one again to get the proper level of detail for its writeup. We also did an unlisted crack, thinking we were getting on a Herbst 11, that was superb. I’ll have to get photos of that and post it at some point.

I loved this route, every part of it was enjoyable and engaging. There will be a different crux for everyone depending on what your weakness is, but nothing on it is dangerous or truly sandbagged. This felt very much like a modern 5.9, not necessarily a 1970s Herbst 5.9. I’ve never run into another party at the Illusion Crags as well, so they make for a fantastic escape from the mid-season crowds over in the loop or Calico Basin. I think more people should come up here and check out the incredibly high quality single pitch trad that’s up here. French Bulges, Arm Forces, Magician’s Hat, whatever that crack was that we did mistakenly. There is so much high quality climbing here that you definitely won’t have to wait in line for, it’s a shame that more people don’t get out here to check it out. If this crag was somewhere in Willow or Icebox for example I think it’d be one of the most popular areas for “classic” single pitch. As it is, a bit of a hike up a hill (and a chain link traverse to pass a wildlife gate) is all that stands in your way. Get after it!

Is He Any Good?