The Great American Dirtbags
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xto72JlMCeo The Great American Dirtbags is Luke Mehall’s second book. This promo was shot by Greg Cairns.
Wearing our heart on our chalk bags.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xto72JlMCeo The Great American Dirtbags is Luke Mehall’s second book. This promo was shot by Greg Cairns.
My second book, The Great American Dirtbags is now available in the printed form, and as an e-book. by Luke Mehall, publisher of The Climbing Zine This book, which I am proud of, is a collection of eighteen stories and a couple poems, and the pieces range from my depressed teenage years to my current…
Note: this is a new column for the Zine, Modern Dirtbags The dirtbag in us never dies, but we do grow up. I lived as a hardcore dirtbag for many years, from Gunnison, Colorado to Potrero Chico, Mexico, but these days at 36 years old I’m more of a “work-bag”. I work 40 hours a…
There are many sacrifices and struggles to live the dirtbag life, but my most major gripe has always been women; there are not enough of them within the dirtbag culture. Many nights spent at campfires within various climbing areas, where the men outnumber the women five to one, support this complaint. However, that all…
When I was in my later years of being a teenager I was convinced that I was born too late. I wanted to live in the 1960s. I was going through phases, searching for who I was, and I thought I was a hippie. I had dreadlocked hair, smoked pot, experimented with psychedelics, and constantly…
The way of the dirtbag is a simple life: maximizing recreation while minimizing responsibility. Life as free as the wind, work as little as possible, and spend mucho time in the outdoors doing what you love. As a rock climber, in my twenties I lived this lifestyle to the maximum: I’d wash dishes all summer…
Joshua Tree National Park is a refuge. I don’t know if I’d decided this by then, sitting folded into the crook of Cyclops Rock, but I felt it. The stone bench was smooth, from water and wind and hands and feet and seats, narrow enough to let our legs dangle over the edge, leaning back…
Screams are a colorful thing. Each one has its own distinct message. An anger, a joy, a pain. The nature of each rings clear somewhere deep in our instincts. From the sound alone, you can practically see the scrunched nose and raised upper lip of a shout delivered in loud fury. Yet slightly muffled as…