The Climbing Zine is a creative collective fueled by passion, dirt, and rocks.
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…
If I close my eyes and never awaken A thousand adventures I hope to have taken Some with family and some with friends All of them undoubtedly cherished in the end So don’t sit inside and cry, “boohoo” Feelin’ sorry for me and feelin’ like poo Instead get yourself where there are no crowds Look…
“Think we could throw a haul bag out of an airplane? That would make the approach really easy.” Kennan was looking at me and Jeff with a twinkle in his eye, and unsure if he was serious, I asked, “Can you even open a plane door in flight, and if you could, wouldn’t it destabilize…
Journal entry from 10/15/2014 Zion is the word. Despite all of our differences, to so many people the meaning of Zion remains the same: a place of refuge, a utopian ideal of peace, unity, and freedom. We may not be religious pilgrims, but even as travelers, as climbers, as humans, when anyone asks where we’re…
The fog rolled in surreptitiously, encroaching every visible surface. It wasn’t just there one day when I woke up, the way it happens sometimes. At every moment, this fog quietly magnified like some cunning creature, sneaking its way into my being. The moment I realized it had made itself a home inside my mind, it…
This story starts and ends with a chicken. On a bright morning in a high valley of the Hindu Kush, the doomed bird lay pinned atop a low stone wall that had been built by local goat herders. One sharp birdie eye looked up into the cloudless sky, the heavens a pale blue, the air…
Brad Gobright is pure of heart. So pure, in fact, that he may never have faced a dilemma in all his life. That’s not exactly serving him well right now, as he’s stuck in a pickle of his own making, at the top of the first pitch of Southern California’s gem climb, The Vampire. He’s…
I started this painting over a year ago after seeing a beautiful sunrise over the North Six-Shooter. It was a quiet morning at camp as folks roused from tents and vehicles, sand lodged in their eyes and deep under their fingernails. I started hot water for coffee, let Izzy, my dog, out of the van,…