“You came all the way from Colorado just to shit in my bathroom?” This was the greeting we got Sunday morning before heading out for a day of burying ourselves in Vedauwoo’s burly cracks. If the shithouse was built of brick, it might have been as rugged as the man issuing our welcome. From the [continue reading]
Until this past Fourth of July, I didn’t really consider myself a rock climber. To that point, I submit the following evidence: I live in Nebraska As if you need a second point after number one, my time is spent mostly in a gym. I’ve never felt like a rock climber. That last point is [continue reading]
Remember in January when you would have sat through a Glenn Beck tantrum for a chance to get your hands on a choss pile? Those days are gone, replaced by the height of summer and its oppressive, lethargy-inducing heat that bakes stone and seems to coat climbing rubber in Chef Boyardee. This is the point [continue reading]
Do you remember your first climb? I do. I was a 24 year old senior at UNL. Jason Bakewell took me to the climbing wall at the campus rec, tied me in and told me to climb to the top. I started off with vigor, but at 30 feet I was ready to come down. [continue reading]
I hope you’re having a great fourth of July. I’m down in Charlotte enjoying family time. I don’t often read Outside magazine, but I received the June issue as a gift (Jack Johnson is on the cover). Matt Samet (former editor of Climbing magazine) wrote a deeply personal and interesting article about his addiction to [continue reading]
We’ve all been there. At the most inopportune times, injury rears its ugly head. Maybe it’s the middle of the season, right when you feel like you’re strongest. In my case, the beautiful opening days of summer were snatched from me after one of the most harsh, cabin fever-inducing winters in recorded history. When this [continue reading]

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