Reflections in The Black by Vic Zeilman
The black-and-white photograph is small and square, half a century old, showing my grandmother posing in front of the dark,…
Wearing our heart on our chalk bags.
The black-and-white photograph is small and square, half a century old, showing my grandmother posing in front of the dark,…
In Memory of Towyn Williams (1926 – 2016) I associate much of my childhood with a little white farmhouse in…
November is closing in fast, and on this turn around the fireball, we reach a strange and interesting milestone in…
If you are sick of new climbers coming in and ruining everything, do something about it. If you hate how…
To the Tamers of the Fiery Rooster God, We three travelers attend no church, recite no prayers, read no scripture.…
If these rocks could talk, they’d tell a hell of a story: one of nature and development, of perseverance and…
“Ummm…honey, you know that nice hiking weekend we have coming up together? Well, ahhh…Dale just asked me if I…ummm…could climb…