If you walk into a climbing gym today, you’ll notice something remarkable. The ratio of men to women is nearly even. Women set routes, coach teams, and send V14s. A female climber—Janja Garnbret—is widely considered the most dominant competitor the sport has ever seen, regardless of gender.
But this was not always the case.
For decades, climbing was framed as a masculine pursuit. Women were seen as participants, not pioneers. And yet, again and again, women stepped up and rewrote what was possible—not just for themselves, but for everyone who came after.
Here are the stories of four women who changed climbing forever.
Lynn Hill: “It Goes, Boys”
In 1993, Lynn Hill did something that no one—man or woman—had ever done. She climbed The Nose of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park free. That means no aid, no pulling on gear, just hands and feet on rock for 31 pitches and 3,000 vertical feet.
What made it even more extraordinary? She did it faster than any previous attempt, male or female. And when asked about it, she famously said: “It goes, boys.”
That sentence wasn’t just about a climb. It was a statement. For years, the conventional wisdom in climbing was that certain routes were too hard, too big, too something for women to free climb at the highest level. Lynn Hill dismantled that argument with a single ascent.
She didn’t just break a record. She broke an assumption.
Catherine Destivelle: The Soloist
While Lynn Hill was dominating American big walls, a French climber named Catherine Destivelle was redefining what it meant to be bold on rock.
In the 1980s and 90s, Destivelle became famous for soloing—climbing alone without a rope—some of the most technical alpine routes in Europe. She climbed the north face of the Eiger, the Petit Dru, and countless other routes that most climbers wouldn’t attempt with a full team and a rope.
What made Destivelle remarkable wasn’t just her physical ability. It was her composure. Watching her climb was like watching someone walk across a room—except the room was a vertical granite face in the Alps, and one mistake meant death.
She didn’t seek attention or sponsorship for being “a woman who solos.” She sought respect for being a climber who pushed limits. And she earned it.
Sasha DiGiulian: Beyond the Grade
If Lynn Hill broke the door open, Sasha DiGiulian walked through it and kept going. As a teenager, she dominated the competition circuit, winning the World Championships in 2011. But she didn’t stop there.
Sasha became one of the most accomplished outdoor climbers of her generation, male or female. She was the first North American woman to climb 9a (5.14d) and has since established hard routes on every continent. But her most significant contribution may be in how she redefined what a female climber could pursue.
She didn’t stick to sport climbing. She went to Yosemite, freeing big walls. She ventured into remote alpine expeditions. She took on projects that required not just strength, but logistical planning, media production, and business acumen.
Sasha showed a generation of young climbers—especially young women—that you don’t have to choose between competition and adventure, between sport climbing and big walls, between being an athlete and being a storyteller. You can do it all.
Janja Garnbret: The GOAT
And then there is Janja Garnbret.
By now, her resume is almost absurd: first Olympic gold medalist in climbing, most World Cup wins in history, undefeated in boulder World Cup competitions for two consecutive seasons. But statistics don’t capture what she’s actually done.
What Janja has done is erase the idea that there’s a “men’s game” and a “women’s game.” The boulder problems set for her in World Cup finals often stump the entire men’s field. The routes she flashes are the ones other top competitors can’t start. She doesn’t win by a few points; she wins by margins that shouldn’t exist at the elite level.
When Janja climbs, gender becomes irrelevant. There’s only the wall, and the person on it. And that person happens to be the best in the world.
But perhaps her quietest contribution is this: she made dominance look joyful. She smiles on the podium. She celebrates her competitors. She makes being the best look like something that doesn’t require diminishing anyone else.
Beyond the Famous Names
There are so many more.
Ashima Shiraishi, who at 13 became the youngest person—male or female—to climb 5.15. Margo Hayes, the first woman to climb 5.15a, proving that the barrier wasn’t biological but cultural. Laura Rogora, who at 5’1” climbs with a power-to-weight ratio that defies expectations. Beth Rodden, who established the hardest trad climb in North America, a route so terrifying it sat unrepeated for years.
And beyond the names you see in magazines, there are thousands of women who changed the sport in smaller but no less significant ways: the first female route setters, the coaches who built youth programs, the gym owners who insisted on inclusive environments, the climbers who simply refused to be told they couldn’t.
What They Changed
These women didn’t just climb hard. They changed the conversation.
Before Lynn Hill, there was an assumption that women couldn’t compete on the hardest big walls. Before Catherine Destivelle, soloing was framed as a masculine extreme. Before Sasha DiGiulian, female climbers were often pushed toward narrow definitions of success. Before Janja Garnbret, dominance in climbing was often framed in gendered terms—the strongest male, the strongest female, as if they were different sports.
These women proved that strength isn’t gendered. That courage isn’t gendered. That excellence isn’t gendered.
Today, when a young girl walks into a climbing gym for the first time, she doesn’t ask “Can women do this?” She just picks a problem and tries. That freedom—to simply exist in the sport without having to justify your presence—is the inheritance these women left behind.
The Work Still to Come
Of course, climbing isn’t finished evolving. Representation still matters. Pay gaps still exist. Media coverage still skews. The work of making climbing truly inclusive is ongoing.
But every time a female climber walks up to a boulder and pulls on, she’s standing on a foundation built by those who came before. They didn’t just send hard routes. They sent a message.
And the message was simple: We belong here. We always have.
#hangboard #climbing hangboard
#climbing hang board #hang board
#hanging board