The Climbing Zine is a creative collective fueled by passion, dirt, and rocks.
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…
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“Hey, wake up. Wake up!” Brian whispered harshly. “There’s someone out there.” I half opened an eye and begrudgingly listened to the deafening silence. “I don’t hear anything man, I’m sure it’s nothing.” “SHHHHH!!!!” Brian’s face was pressed against the mesh fabric of the tent, as he peered out into the darkness. I thought of…
Note: this poem is published in Volume 20 of The Zine. Photo by the author. we take climbing as medicine: you insist, but your pill bottles shrink four… three… two and you’re gone lost as the gear we bailed on during solemn retreat after groveling, questing up & up & up until our callused hands…
I am continually amazed and supported by the collectors of The Climbing Zine. Over 15 years of publishing there have been plenty of ups and downs, but the support of the climbing community has always been constant. I am an artist first and a businessperson second, so I’ve learned, and continue to learn lessons, often…
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…
The Climbing Zine is now accepting stories, photography, and art for Volume 27. Below are our loose guidelines. Words The Climbing Zine publishes thought provoking essays, stories, and poetry. Word count can be anywhere from 200 to 10,000. Our aim to publish work that focuses on the essence of climbing; we’ll publish accounts of any…
I clipped her to the anchor, untied her knot, and pulled the rope through the gear. “I need more time.” Jessica whispered so weakly that I had to lean close to hear her. “We don’t have more time. We have to get help,” I replied. “What happened?” “You fell. You broke your arm and leg.”…