I started seeing it sometime last year, and it got a small chuckle out of me then: #bitchesonpitches. But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered: in a world full of bad bitches and rich bitches and boss bitches and basic ones too, what does that word even mean anymore? by Kathy…
A roommate and dear friend of mine used to talk both eloquently and incessantly about her Purple Rabbit. She would describe its power, its pleasuring capabilities with the benefits of independence and non-attachment. Often I thought she shared to entertain our friends’ appalled reactions, although over time, I realized her serious appreciation for her rabbit.…
Over hundreds of thousands of years, water has trickled, raged, and poured down cracks and creases, winding and weaving through rock rugosities, and worn paths through weaknesses to form (what is now known as) Canyonlands. by Pete Whittaker note: this piece appears in The Climbing Zine Book 2, now available After another trip there this…
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…
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…
My college years in The Desert were adventurous and crazy, a complete immersion in the unknown. After I graduated, I began to roam from climbing area to climbing area, and The Desert seemed like just another destination on the circuit. It was in that era that the inevitable plateau began for me on that Colorado…
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…
Let me die on the rock Doesn’t matter which one Something sunny and remote Away from the dummies and remotes by Luke Mehall, publisher of The Climbing Zine. Photo by Jake Burchmore, published in Volume 22 Not that I’m not a dummy too I’m just a different kind of fool The artist living…