DENYSHI – Perched above a river on a sheer granite bluff roughly two hours west of Kyiv, hundreds of festivalgoers set up tents across a campsite devoted to the outdoors. During the day, they scaled the cliff, cooled off in a nearby reservoir or tried stand-up paddleboarding. After sunset, the atmosphere shifted as bands and DJs filled the forest with rock and electronic music.
Held last week in Ukraine’s Zhytomyr region, the Stoned Climbers festival is the country’s largest outdoor gathering built around both rock climbing and live music. As with many public events staged in wartime Ukraine, it offered moments of normal recreation while underscoring how close the conflict remains.
Over the weekend, attendees’ phones repeatedly sounded with air raid alerts. Soldiers spending time away from the front moved quietly among the crowd, and organizers pledged all proceeds from this year’s event to a fundraising campaign for Ukraine’s Azov Brigade. This time, though, the campsite was spared the sight of Russian drones or missiles passing overhead toward Kyiv, as happened the previous year.
Run entirely by volunteers, the festival began in 2023 when around 15 friends, inspired by Yosemite’s climbing scene, decided to build something of their own after more than a year of climbing together.
The American national park is widely seen as one of the cradles of modern rock climbing, a place where generations of climbers shaped a counterculture around tent camping, van living and long stretches spent on the valley’s granite walls.
“We realized climbing could be much more than just a sport,” said festival co-founder Dmytro Isaienko, 39. “It’s about a specific way of life — in nature, camping, on the rocks.”
Isaienko and the other founders also hoped to push back against the idea that climbing belongs only to high-level athletes. About 150 people came to the first edition of the festival. This summer, the crowd expanded to more than 500, with most participants identifying as beginners or recreational climbers.
For Isaienko, holding the event amid war has added a deeper meaning. He said creating spaces where people can meet, develop new skills and share time outdoors has become one way to protect mental well-being during a long and exhausting conflict.
“You need to get away from the war for a while,” he said. “Leave Kyiv and come spend some time here together, a little longer than usual.”
A climbing community grows even as war grinds on
On the rocks below, instructors help complete beginners fasten their harnesses, chalk their hands and search for the next hold on the granite wall. Whenever someone reaches the top of the 25-meter (82-feet) cliff — often for the first time — spectators, instructors and climbers break into applause.
Among the festival’s newcomers was 21-year-old Liliia Karpach, who traveled from Ukraine’s western Lviv region for her first Stoned Climbers festival.
“I decided to come because it had been a very long time since I’d climbed on real rocks,” she said. “I also wanted to meet the community in person and get to know new people.”
She said climbing is mental as well as physical exercise, and hopes others will give it a try.
“If you’re really nervous about coming on your own, invite some friends,” she said. “Even if neither of you knows how to climb, you’ll have a good time together.”
Helping first-time climbers gain that confidence is one of the most rewarding parts of the festival for instructor Andrii Lamei, 24.
While belaying a young woman during her first climb, he calmly talked her through the most difficult part of the ascent. As she climbed higher, her movements became more confident. After reaching the top, Lamei encouraged her to pause before descending.
“Look around,” he shouted. “Enjoy the moment. You made it.”
“Climbing helps you work with stress,” Lamei said. “It helps you manage stressful situations in everyday life.”
He dreams of climbing outside Ukraine one day but, like most Ukrainian men, he cannot leave the country while wartime travel restrictions remain in place.
“I want to go across the border to visit Yosemite, to visit Norway’s mountains, but I can’t,” he said. “But maybe this is how I’m forced to enjoy what I have here.”
For Isaienko, that is precisely why festivals like Stoned Climbers matter.
While many Ukrainians have put parts of their lives on hold during the war, he hopes the community taking shape around the cliffs shows that new traditions can still emerge.
“This is a festival for everyone,” he said. “Including people who have never tried climbing before.”
And each time another first-time climber reaches the top, the applause rising from the rocks below suggests that, little by little, that community is growing.
