As much as I would love to pay the bills with my own website alone, the bulk of my writing income (which, to be honest, is still only a small supplement to my real-person jobs) comes from the freelance work i do with various publications. Because I like to support the platforms that support me and because I, like any writer, am a bit of an egoist, you can an index of externally published works here.
In Suffering and In Stoke (Moja Gear)
The Buttermilks are monolithic pieces of granite all too eager to shut you down. Unsuccessful burns far outnumber the sends and flashes are coveted and rare. It is a place of sun and wind-burnt skin, soggy crash pads, aching ankles, failed expectations, and, more than anything, bruised egos. In many ways, Nick is right; it is miserable. And that’s what makes it sublime.
Rain, Snow, Avalanche
Suddenly, I heard a great crack from the mountains and my eyes shot to scan the ridgeline, more than half expecting to see a plume of white barreling down the steep slopes. Byron was known to be a bad avalanche zone, particularly this time of year, and had I known it would have been raining prior to setting out, I would have never gone. Rain weakens the already unstable crusts of melting snowpack and is known to trigger wet slab avalanches, the most deadly kind. Byron is particularly terrifying because, located right at the bottom of a bowl, nowhere is safe. Even on the boulder fields that mound in the middle, a big enough avalanche can bury you.
Suffer for the SUmmit (Bivy)
At that moment, I jarringly realized we were in over our heads. I had underestimated this mountain, conversely overestimating my own abilities, and because of that, we were laughably unprepared. Darkness enveloped us and we had no headlamp, one dead phone, and one on 50% battery. Up the creek without a paddle? More like up the mountain without a flashlight.
Love on the Rocks: Weighing the Risks and Rewards for Climber Couples (Moja Gear)
Perhaps there is no great ultimatum for those who love to climb and climb to love. To me, climbing is both a curse, capable of enchanting and addicting all the while threatening to take it all away, and a gift, capable of making one feel more alive than they ever thought possible.
More than a Number: The Necessity of Letting Go of Grades (moja gear)
It probably has something to do with the inextricable connection between climbing and grades. Climbing is one of the few sports where your skill, and subsequently, your worth, can be succinctly quantified to the masses by a number. Grade easily becomes conflated with identity.
Belaying from a Backpack: The Difficult Alternative to Van Life (Moja Gear
While backpacking and dirtbagging come from the same vein of thought, the two are just so oppressively difficult on their own that combining them into one single lifestyle is just … insane. There is little question as to why few have sought to combine the two lifestyles. It’s hard. It makes the idea of a 9-to-5 office job seem almost appealing. Almost.