The black-and-white photograph is small and square, half a century old, showing my grandmother posing in front of the dark, mysterious walls of the Black Canyon. As I study the image, I quickly realize that she is witnessing a time period in 1961 when there is not a single documented rock climb of any significance…
I know he knows. Adam Lawton is proud. In every group of adventurers, there is a leader, and every great leader must be a visionary. Adam dreamed the dreams for the entire crew. He found excitement in little breakthroughs, like the time I got a job dishwashing at Crossroads Cafe in Joshua Tree—he couldn’t have…
I don’t have climbing heroes, because, to paraphrase The Big Lebowski, what’s a hero, anyway? There are a few climbers that I look to for inspiration though, and at the top of that list is the duo known as the Wideboyz: Tom Randall and Pete Whittaker. They have a deep love and commitment to…
The expenditure of energy on a trip of this sort is massive and one only has so much of this energy. Energy that is accumulated as a person becomes stronger physically, that is called endurance. But the energy that is of such great importance to me is called magic energy. Everyone has this magic in…
In the late 1300s, experts point to drought and other environmental stressors impacting the Puebloan people in the Southwest leading toward societal collapse. My people, the Diné, the Athabaskan-speaking migrants from the north, also began to place pressures on these societies. Resources like food and water became increasingly scarce, and preventing theft or raids by…
In 2016 at the International Climbers’ Festival in Lander, Wyoming, we held a “love letter to climbing” contest. Ana Ally was the winner, this is her letter. Enjoy. Banner photo of the author by Scott Keating Climbing, my love. As I sit here, I struggle to find the right words to describe you. I am about…
Ring the bells in elegy For the last engine Of the last Saturn On (semi) permanent loan From the buddy of the last dirtbag To struggle off rock You were bitching the other day That the artists weren’t starving anymore That the spirit was no longer willing to suffer for it maybe, But the flesh…
Fifteen meters up Rutabaga, a moderate 5.9 splitter at the base of Squamish, BC’s Stawamus Chief, stretches a traverse between cracks. The move crosses jugs and offers fine, slabby feet, but still, I find it exhilarating. In fact, for reasons related only slantwise to climbing, it is exactly the sort of move that I seek…