Think back over your climbing career. I bet you’ll find a climb—or two—that define you. These won’t be your hardest sends necessarily. They will be the beautiful ones, the scary ones, the ones that came into your life at just the right time. The ones that tested you, that possessed you, that shaped your character…
The reflection targets my disfigurement. If only the borders of this mirror could protect the rest of the world from my hideousness. My life’s insignificance rampages through my thoughts like an atrociously loud party that never ends. Nothing I do is good enough. I want to expunge my existence on a daily basis. Not even…
Mudstrosity Yes, it wobbled. Three feet high, one foot wide, a foot deep, probably outweighing me, the block sat at arm’s reach above my head. No way to avoid tangling with it—I was standing in aiders, hanging from a piton. I should bolt around it… by Steve “Crusher” Bartlett (Note: this is an excerpt from…
You know you’re getting old when they start replacing the bolts you used for a first ascent. That was my first thought when I heard that an anchor I’d placed, over in my old stomping grounds of Gunnison, Colorado, was getting an update. Story by Luke Mehall. This piece is published in Volume 15, now…
I see it being used all around me to describe women, often by other women: badass. I have always considered it to have a good connotation, as it implies confidence with a splash of style. Diverse, strong-willed women deserve an empowering word that delivers a heavy compliment—one that says, “She’s got things under control.” The…
A remembrance of our fallen comrades, as well as the long gone friendships. Originally published in The Climbing Zine Book. This link will get you 25% off anything in our online store: https://shop.climbingzine.com/discount/DIRTBAG%2520PODCAST Read more stories/watch videos/explore: http://www.climbingzine.com
The Climbing Zine creates stories for all our readers; whether you’re able to pay to read them or not. Most of our stories end up getting posted online for free. At the end of the day we’re a business, and we’re forever grateful for those that invest in our future by picking up zines, books,…
Doug Tompkins opens the door to a South American summer evening. At seventy-one—stooped and shuffling, a button-down shirt tucked into khakis and held up with a leather belt—he’s not exactly the climbing jock he once was. Looking up through kind, brown eyes, he shakes hands with us, and then he walks us into his stone-cottage…