Rock Star: Chick Holtkamp Opens Climb Cleveland

A shirtless Chick Holtkamp smiles as he watches climbers hone their skills on a indoor rock wall. Like his 63-year-old chiseled body, the vertical surfaces at Tremont’s Climb Cleveland, which opened in March, are evidence of his 45 years’ experience.

“I designed the wall to incorporate all the different climbs that I’ve enjoyed in so many different places,” says the owner of the bouldering, yoga and dance facility.

Holtkamp has more notable climbs than you can shake a carabiner at, including Yosemite National Park’s El Capitan, the Red River Gorge in Kentucky and local urban challenges such as the Hope Memorial Bridge. 

Resembling an M.C. Escher painting, the gym’s bottom floor spills into the ground level. Experienced climbers start on the basement floor, transition to a roof where their back is parallel to the ground and then top out, the final move of a climb, on the ground level. In all, there is more than 300 feet of continuous climbing with more than 100 routes tweaked weekly.

As a bouldering gym — a skill performed without ropes, harnesses or anchors — the 12-foot walls lack fear-inducing heights. Here, more advanced climbers gain endurance and refine their skills, while novices can learn to climb. 

“We have a devoted climbing community that’s relatively small compared to our population,” says Holtkamp. “But it’s growing.” 

The gym also offers blues dancing, an offshoot of swing, and Ashtanga yoga, an athletic, rhythmic style of yoga. These cross-training classes help climbers gain core strength.

“It’s not just a workout place,” Holtkamp says. “You can walk in, climb with your friends and then walk down the street to get tacos.”

After a few false starts, the 7,000-square-foot facility is a dream come true for Holtkamp.  He purchased the four-story former Ukrainian Hall in 1982, when “everybody was leaving Tremont,” he says. It was his first of many development projects in the area, including the renovation of Lemko Hall into condos. He lives on the top floor because it feels like living on top of a cliff. 

“I’m at the gym for two months and then I do a road trip and climb somewhere for a week,” says Holtkamp, who spent three years going from climb to climb in the ‘70s. “It’s a good life."

We Tried It:  
My finger and toe muscles are searing as I cling to a plastic hold. My arms are shaking. I’m confident I can’t reach the top. Luckily, at 10 feet off the ground, the only risk is a bruised ego. 

“C’mon, Dillon!” a fellow climber yells to me. “You got it. Almost there.” Suddenly, I find the strength to reach out and grasp the final holding of the “problem,” or route, that I’m attempting. I’ve solved it. 

I scamper down using the large, comfortable off-loading holds until I’m close enough to the padded ground to jump. 

My climbing buddy greets me with some pointers: I exerted too much energy with an early move. I take a break and try again. With her advice in mind, I easily bound to the top. 

“If one person has a problem, people will just hang out and talk about how they each did it,” says Climb Cleveland owner Chick Holtkamp. “Everyone’s learning from each other.”