Note: this poem is published in Volume 25. Photo of Anna climbing “Peace” in Tuolumne Meadows, California by Mary Eden. Climbing draws us to these moments. Where flowing water harmonizes with every exhale; Where bare toes find solace in mud And bare skin befriends sunlight’s golden rays. Where our wild hearts stir with blooming friendships…
Though I’ve been dangling off the cliffs of Yosemite for twenty-plus years now, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with intimidation at the base of the roof crack known as Separate Reality. Taylor and I had just rappelled in, and it was his lead, which was just fine with me. Taylor is a relatively…
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…
The Korean folklore goes: the Creator called upon all domes and boulders of Korea to gather up north, where they would join to form the two thousand peaks of the Geumgansan mountain range (금강산). Ulsanbawi (울산바위) headed north as well, but moved very slowly as it was one of the largest domes in the country.…
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…
And as you journey into outerspace May the angels help to lead the way May the prayers that our families made Shine up on your soul to keep you safe —Scarface, “Smile” It was a splitter summer day in Boulder, Colorado, with blue skies above and beautiful people all around. I was sitting across…
My friends are gettin’ older, So I guess I must be too. Without their loving kindness, I don’t know what I would do. —Greg Brown, “Spring Wind” This story can only begin in one way, and that is with tears. Whether they were the tears from heartbreak, loss, or just from when John…
I was told it must’ve been awful for a person like me to spend the large majority of days locked down in a cell. Every “awful” thing is an opportunity for the spirit to rise above. Words and art by Isaac Wright, published in Volume 22, now available The truth is that nature…