Anti-social Climber

If you liked reading the anti-social climber blog in its various incarnations, you'll be pleased to know that Dominic Jeff is blogging a...

The pinky hook; that’s got to be the last desperate recourse of a trad scoundrel. It’s not that I wanted to be half wedged in a pod of Scot...

You haven’t have heard from me in a while because I’ve had a break from climbing. In fact, I’ve mostly been screwing. I’ve also done a fair...

The year that life got in the way. That’s how I’ll be remembering 2011, in climbing terms at least. (Other terms are available, I’m told, bu...

Rummaging around in my parent’s garage the other day, I stumbled upon a treasuretrove of memories. A dusty bag full of books yielded the gu...

The MC’s excited commentary made it hard to get psyched for a trad climb up the steep and notoriously unstable walls of the quarry. Neither ...

Thirty feet above the crystal sea, my feet skitter on the steep, smooth rock and I cut loose, but I don’t care because my hands are in the m...