We were two pitches up, I was four beers in, and my girlfriend at the time, “Agnes,” had sent me three angry text messages. She’s not really an Agnes, of course. Nobody born after the First World War is. But at least this way she won’t get on my ass about appearing in “some stupid … Continue reading Whipped


A Day on Belay

“What a crack. Now that’s one big-ass crack.” “It’s more akin to an off-width, really.” I pointed up at the route to the left of the one Tom was about to climb. “At least, that’s what serious climbers would call it. More accurate.” Tom smirked. “Akin? The hell’s that? Akin? And what’re you saying about … Continue reading A Day on Belay