Diesel fumes. Cyanide. Falling dirt, laced with coal. Mysterious flecks of neon plastic.
These are a few of the things you might accidentally inhale while climbing Utah’s Pricecicle, a 60-foot pillar right off Highway 6.
If you like your ice like I like my martinis, then the Pricecicle will not disappoint. Is this the greatest dirtcicle in the West?
There are, in fact, more elements to the weirdness that is the Pricecicle. Take, for example, the adjacent graffiti-tagged bridge, or the drive-by spectators who stop to take a selfie while eyeing you with equal parts curiosity and bewilderment.
Then there’s the Pricecicle Mountain Project comment wars (circa 2009) between two decidedly sus contributors dubbed Bill Bones and Stevie Nacho regarding frozen poop and secret bolts. Or consider the tutu-wearing gorilla who likes to swing her tools there, from time to time.
Weird or not, in the waning days of 2024, my husband Casey and I found ourselves driving two hours from the Park City area to the Pricecicle with our friends Vicki and Adam to catch some ice to close out the year.
I blame climate change, which delivered a balmy December. With a 50-degree high just a week or so earlier, the usually abundant ice up Provo Canyon was far from in. A sad, thin veneer of slush and drip clung to Provo’s rock face. Maple Canyon’s ice climbs weren’t in either. And the Great White Icicle was anything but.
In Utah, in addition to living in a literal desert that becomes more desert-y with each additional part per million of carbon dioxide added to our atmosphere, we also live in an ice park desert—at least compared to my former home of Colorado, where two phenomenal parks make ice climbing a reliably accessible pursuit.
So the Pricecicle it was.
Though we’d never climbed this WI3/4 pillar before, all of us had driven by it countless times, usually en route to Ouray. We never stop. Usually, because it looks not that good—and dirty. But had we written off the Pricecicle too quickly?
“Not as bad as people say,” writes Salt Lake City-based climber Alex Mankouski on Mountain Project. “Worth doing,” weighs in another local climber.
Generally speaking, we found these positive reviews to be accurate. Not only was the pillar in, but it was thick and the conditions were good: cold and dry.
Conveniently for time-strapped ice climbers with little kids like ourselves, the Pricecicle is just a 90-second approach from the pullout off Highway 6. The risk-averse will be happy to know that no avalanche risk exists. Top-ropers can take a muddy walk-up to the bolted anchors. And the nearest medical center lies just 17 miles to the south in the pillar’s eponymous town of Price.
As we swerved into the pullout at speed, we celebrated the absence of any other cars or parties on the pillar. Seconds later, a Toyota Tacoma pulled in ahead of us. Bummer! We rushed to pack up our gear and hike alongside the highway to reach the base of the climb first. But dude in the Tacoma shimmied up the walk-up, meaning he’d reach the anchors first.
Thankfully, our Pricecicle-mate was courteous and called down to see which side of the pillar we wanted. As Adam racked up screws to lead the right side, he rapped down the other side and cursed himself: He’d forgotten his tools up top! Luckily for him, we had three pairs to spare.
As it turned out, the other folks who had rolled up in the Tacoma were the climber’s family members and they were staying in the car while he sampled the Pricecicle. So he rope soloed himself up with a Grigri, then peaced out.
I don’t remember the last time I climbed in a belay jacket, but I needed one by my second lap up the roadside pillar. The temps were in the low 20s, with a wind chill of eight degrees Fahrenheit. Cold, but not as frigid as the prime screaming barfy conditions I’ve experienced on many an early Ouray morning. I blame the Pricecicle’s location in a little urban enclave, where the sun never shines. That, and the wind gusts that blew our way each time a semi roared by 30 feet behind us.
Shortly after we pointed the car north back toward home, Vicki was perusing the Utah Ice Climbers Facebook group. “That’s Adam!” she exclaimed. Dude in the Tacoma had snapped a photo of Adam climbing without any of us realizing it and posted it in real time.
At the end of the day, we were glad we’d made the trek to the Pricecicle, and finally climbed the pillar we’d passed on the highway so many times.
When the climate crisis means that none of the ice is in lower down, this weird pillar is a nice option to have in our back pockets. Yet between the questionable substances (cyanide, diesel, plastic, etc.), the proximity to the highway, the sneaky social media post, and the overarching vibe of the Pricecicle, it’s also the most dystopian place I’ve ever climbed.
But as Bill Bones of the climb’s storied Mountain Project comments says, for us Utahns, “Ice is too rare to be picky.”
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