We Tried It: Climbing the First Urban Via Ferrata in the U.S. at Quarry Trails Metro Park

“Well, that was 100 percent not terrible,” a Metro Parks employee says with a sigh as she walks through the gate at the top of a 100-plus-foot cliff. 

“Not a fan of heights?” I ask. 

“No!” she responds. “But this was actually pretty cool.” 

We’ve just finished climbing the first urban via ferrata in the U.S. Located in Quarry Trails Metro Park on the West Side of Columbus, the fixed rock-climbing route offers an alpine adventure common in the Rockies and the Alps but unique in an urban setting (not to mention the flatlands of Ohio). 

Via ferrata, Italian for “iron way,” is so named for the ladders, cables and rungs permanently affixed to rock faces as climbing aids. Here in Columbus, the route at Quarry Trails consists of scores of rebar rungs, 1,040 feet of safety cable, a 90-foot suspension bridge situated 105 feet in the air, and a roughly 50-foot vertical climb to reach said bridge. 

“When we took that piece of property over and we saw those high-wall cliffs, I thought right away, ‘Wow, rock climbing. Sweet,’ ” says Dan Kaderly, park operations manager for the Metro Parks system. Kaderly is no stranger to the sport: He’s been climbing for more than two decades, and his twin brother, Highbanks Metro Park manager Matt Kaderly, designed the climbing wall at Scioto Audubon Metro Park. 

After consulting with geologists and groups like the Ohio Climbers Coalition, Dan Kaderly and Metro Parks staff decided to do something unique. They contracted with Colorado-based Via Ferrata Works to design the state’s first route. Public climbing (free, with registration required) opened this May after more than a year of design, construction and staff training. 

I climbed the route with a group of Metro Parks employees and journalists in September, on a dreary day with scattered showers. I worried that the rain would cancel our climb, but was assured that as long as there wasn’t a downpour or high winds, we’d be fine (and sure enough, we were). Our group ranged from complete newbies to experienced climbers like Kaderly and me. 

I won’t lie: The initial ascent was a little intimidating and an entirely different style of climbing than I am accustomed to. The route starts with a short climb up and a shorter descent before settling into a long, mostly horizontal traverse. Once I was moving laterally, I found my comfort zone and enjoyed the scenic views across the park, as well as the marine fossils embedded in the limestone hundreds of millions of years ago. 

Then, we reached the big ascent. 

Roughly 50 feet tall by my estimate, with a very slight overhang at its start, I found that section to be the most mentally and physically challenging, as a fall on this section could be anywhere from a few inches to several feet. I trust my gear, but I’ve also taken several multifoot falls and know how heart-stopping they can be. 

For just a second, I wondered if I had it in me. What if I tired out halfway up?  

No one has ever needed to be rescued off the wall, Kaderly tells me, though some gentle encouragement has come in handy. In the event of an actual emergency, Metro Parks staff guiding the climb carry a backpack with basic first aid supplies, and the fire department’s heavy rescue crews have been trained on climbing and retrieving someone from the route. 

Then came the second-scariest obstacle: the 90-foot suspension bridge. The foot track is only a few inches wide, which looks more intimidating than it feels. There’s cable to hook your carabiners on here, too, plus additional cables on either side for your hands. Really, this section was easier than I expected, and I flew through it. 

That left me with the portion that, surprisingly, winded me the most: a 54-foot staircase to the top of the cliff. It doesn’t sound bad, but I promise that virtually every person in our group was panting and sweating when they reached that gate at the end. 

The via ferrata route is followed by a pleasant walk on a paved path back to the parking lot. One Metro Parks employee joked that a zip line back to our cars would be ideal, and I have to agree. I ask Kaderly about the odds of having one installed. 

“I wouldn’t rule it out,” he says. “It would be a super fun ending to that whole thing.” 

This story is from the November 2023 issue of Columbus Monthly.