OBITUARY: BALIN MILLER
Published in the October 25, 2025 issue.
Alaskan climber Balin Miller used to paint his high cheekbones with glitter before going off into battle. Battle being the bold and daring alpine routes Miller became famous for, like his ascent of Reality Bath in the Canadian Rockies or his solo of the North Buttress on Mount Hunter via the French Connection.
“He only put it on for the hard climbs, the scary ones,” recalled Dylan Miller, Balin Miller’s older brother, in an interview with The Sheet on Tuesday. “It was like Balin, you’re soloing the Slovak Direct Trail, but it’s okay, you have glitter on.”
Miller was referring to his brother’s solo up the Slovak Direct route on Denali. He was the first person to ever complete the infamous route without a rope. It took him 56 hours.
On Oct. 1, 2025, Miller died while on another classic climb – El Capitan in Yosemite. He was only 23-years-old.
Balin Miller was born in Anchorage, Alaska on Jan. 12, 2002. He started climbing with Dylan and their father when he was five and Dylan was seven. He quickly fell in love with the sport.
“He started leading ice pitches by like 14 or 15,” Dylan Miller said. “I think that’s another cool thing about his climbing timeline. Even though he was in his early 20s, he had been leading ice pretty consistently for close to a decade.”
Miller’s experience allowed him to both shine as a climber and make measured, calculated decisions in the backcountry.
“He was obviously a very skilled climber but he was also very safe,” said Aidan Whitelaw, a close friend and climbing partner. “He wasn’t afraid to turn around.”
In his short but prolific climbing career, Balin Miller pushed boundaries.
“He was one of the strongest and boldest climbers of our generation,” said Will Hogdson, a friend and climbing partner of Miller’s. “But he was also just a person.”
As Miller rose to fame, he remained unapologetically himself. He wore cheetah print rainbow tights and painted his fingernails black. His nose was pierced. He was funny, blunt, and opinionated.
“He was one of the only people I’ve ever met who was unburdened by the perceptions of others,” remembered Talis Colberg, a close friend and climbing partner.
“I don’t know anyone else like Balin,” echoed Cole Jones, a high school friend.
Colberg scoffed at media characterizations of the death of his friend. “[Calling him an] influencer is silly. His social media was a joke. He was totally not motivated by anything other than his love to climb.”
Colberg pointed to times when he would jokingly tell Miller he maybe needed to take his Instagram account more seriously if he wanted to pursue climbing full-time. Then, Miller would turn around, and post something hilarious and lewd.
Miller was multi-faceted. He briefly pursued a degree in engineering at Montana State University before dropping out to pursue his climbing career. During the summers, he worked on a crabbing boat back home in Alaska.
Miller also loved his Prius. He often lived out of his car, which he was doing earlier this fall in Yosemite.
“Balin felt like he could make a Prius do anything any other car could do,” Jones said.
More than anything, Miller was a fiercely loyal friend who developed strong relationships everywhere he went.
“We almost spent more time hanging out than climbing,” Whitelaw said. “I feel like that’s pretty unique in climbing partnerships.”
