Elegy For The (Apparent) Last True Dirtbag (a poem)
Ring the bells in elegy For the last engine Of the last Saturn On (semi) permanent loan From the buddy…
Wearing our heart on our chalk bags.
Ring the bells in elegy For the last engine Of the last Saturn On (semi) permanent loan From the buddy…
Fifteen meters up Rutabaga, a moderate 5.9 splitter at the base of Squamish, BC’s Stawamus Chief, stretches a traverse between…
Yeah, we are star matter from the big bang And that love ain’t far behind you Love ain’t…
This is the most beautiful place on Earth, but of course, like Cactus Ed Abbey said, every person carries in…
It is like any other start to a day of climbing in the Black Canyon. Dave and I are up…
Chuck Pratt: Liquid Sunshine by Pat Ament (note the full version of this piece was published in Volume 17, which…
Me and my higher self, We often would speak Somehow we lost the connection, Might meet at Joshua Tree —Nas,…
Acknowledging the roots and conceptualizations of the outdoor activities that we so passionately pursue enriches our participation and ties us…
*Trigger Warning* This article discusses self-harm. “Look at my hands!” I hold my blistered and scabbed knuckles out to…
The distinction between a “climber” and “someone who climbs” has always fascinated me; it’s a nuance I’ve observed throughout a…
Curled into the bench seat like astronauts they hurtled through the dark, stars hanging low outside the dust-dimmed beam of…
There’s a lot of information out there about how to belay, and sure, the mechanics of holding a rope are…
UPDATE: Keep The Zine Alive reached 500 in 2023. Last year around this time I wrote a short post called…
by Lucas Roman. This story is published in Volume 18. Banner photo by Hobo Greg Brad Gobright is pure of…