Episode 30: The Prince

Phillip Schaal, “The Prince P”, died in 2016 after a severe reaction to a suspicious drug overdose, as told by his mother Eloise. At 35 years old, Phillip was an elite rock climber and one of the world’s best boulderers at the time. Francois Lebeau described Phillip as an “underground machine”. “Quiet and humble”, Phillip was always doing his own thing and “shied away from the media limelight”. Phillip’s story is told through Eloise’s lens and experience.

For the Love of Climbing is brought to you by deuter USA, Gnarly Nutrition, Allez Outdoor, First Ascent Coffee, Vibram, and presented by Patagonia.

Music by: Kakurenbo and Chad Crouch. “Dreamers for Elisa” by Caro C. A HUGE thank you to Chad Crouch for creating absolute magic, and to Peter Darmi for mixing this episode. 

Cover photo by Kika MacFarlane.

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EPISODE TRANSCRIPT:

(KATHY KARLO): This podcast is presented by Patagonia. Not bound by convention, Patagonia’s in business to save our home planet.

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(FEMALE VOICE): Today we’re going to talk about “allez”. “Allez” means “come on!” in a way, or to encourage. Ok! We are done with the simple and normal uses of “allez”, now let’s cut to the chase:

(KATHY KARLO): Allez Outdoor Personal Care products are made by climbers for those who love the outdoors. Their rich and repairing ingredients for their skincare collection are inspired by desert landscapes, and their simple and recyclable packaging makes them eco-sustainable. Allez commits to protecting the open spaces that we love by partnering with the Access Fund and 1% for the Planet. That’s Allez Outdoor: “A-L-L-E-Z”). Allez Outdoor—made by climbers, for those who love the outdoors.

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The only question you need to ask yourself is: Are you a sucker for anything that tastes like chocolate ice cream? (Yeah, me neither.) Gnarly Nutrition is designed to enhance your progress—and taste like a milkshake, without all the crap.

---

- This episode of For the Love of Climbing is in memory of Phillip Schaal, who died in 2016 after a severe reaction to a suspicious drug overdose, as told by his mother Eloise. At 35 years old, Phillip was an elite rock climber and one of the world’s best boulderers at the time. Francois Lebeau described Phillip as an “underground machine”. “Quiet and humble”, Phillip was always doing his own thing and “shied away from the media limelight”.

Phillip’s story is told through Eloise’s lens and experience. This episode is introduced with an excerpt from Cyrena Lee’s essay, “The Prince”, published in The Climbing Zine in 2019.

- “It’s even harder to write about Phil because while he’s not physically here, the force of his character remains. For anyone who crossed paths with Phil, it’s certain that he made an impression, good or bad. He was unforgettable.

You could spend hours lost in the Internet archives and relive and watch so many of the impressive feats Phil chronicled on his Vimeo page. But what made Phil so legendary wasn’t simply his insane crimp strength—it was the sharpness of his unique character that was able to penetrate every person he interacted with.

Phil was the high-functioning self-destructive type; his days of intensive setting were fueled by a steady stream of coffee and cigarettes, perhaps supplemented by a pastry or half of a sandwich. He was the type of person to stay and help out to do the thankless jobs nobody else wanted to do.

I remember Phil used to tell me that he was going to outlive everyone that he knew—he said it with a somewhat defeated and sad tone, as if he could already feel the pain of living while everyone he loved had gone. He reiterated it again to me last spring after the death of his father.

It’s painfully ironic that Phil left so early—the circumstances of his death are murky, exact details blurry because they were lost in the confusion of night. Drug poisoning is the briefest explanation, but there is much more meaning to extract from Phil’s death rather than dismissing it as a horrible accident. It’s important to examine the pathway to how somebody gets to such a sketchy underworld of Brooklyn where it’s possible to fall so badly in the first place.

Is climbing an addiction? One could consider adrenaline cravings and sacrificing all other activities for climbing as signs that point to yes. Climbing is certainly an intense way to achieve a sense of focus and meditation that can alleviate, even temporarily obliterate the daily humdrum stresses of life.

When I met Phil, he hadn’t been climbing professionally for a while. It was hilarious for me to see videos of him climbing in his prime, with long shaggy hair and baggy Moon pants. He looked like a completely different person from the guy who had to spend more than a few minutes sliding into his tight jeans and was so particular about his fancy Chari & Co socks.

Maybe he traded in his climbing addiction for coffee, cigarettes, and late nights of drinking. Maybe Phil was really lonely on the inside, and his prickly exterior was a self-defense mechanism, hurting others before they could hurt him. Maybe no matter the addiction, even a generally healthy one, like climbing, it’s not enough to sustain you. Maybe even if you’re climbing your hardest and you send an insane project, it’s meaningless if you feel a lack of a real human connection. 

Maybe climbing, without balance, is just another way to avoid how you’re really feeling, to avoid confronting loneliness, and to avoid asking other people for help. Maybe we would all benefit from self-reflection, if we examined our own inabilities to stop doing something, anything, especially if it’s to our ultimate self-detriment or preventing us from connecting to other people.”

(ELOISE TENCHER): The friends who travel—whenever they go somewhere, oftentimes they will contact me and ask me to send them a little baggie of ashes—which I do. And wherever they go—different countries, different places here in this country, in Colorado, Texas, in Hueco. All sorts of places—his friends, they will go and throw his ashes.

And in Washington, Dave Watson, who lives right by Mount Hood—and he spread the ashes there on a really windy day. And it’s really cool, you know, to see these ashes just flying into the wind, you know? And whether it’s there or in the ocean. We went to Rio. We went to the famous Christ the Redeemer and I threw ashes there. And I document every single event, you know? And I put them on Facebook and it’s just—I want him to go all over the world. And he’s with me until the end of my days.

I was born in Washington D.C. to an American father and a Chilean mom. And when I was two, we went to live in Chile until I was fifteen. But every year, we would come to the States and I came here when I was fifteen and did my high school years.

And then, somewhere along those years, I met Phillip’s dad—skiing in Chile, actually. Because he was a Swiss skier and they were training down there. And we connected. And when I was twenty-six, I married him and we lived in Squaw Valley, which was really nice. And actually, we did spend a lot of time in Aspen.

And then we had Phillip. And I think Phillip got his ability for sports from his dad. He did not get that from me. And so, that’s how, I think, it all started like that. And when I was in school, I majored in languages—Italian and French and art. But I never really did anything with that. The art—I still paint and I do that. But I’m in the restaurant business now.

(laughs)

(KK): You’re listening to For the Love of Climbing Podcast. This is not a climbing podcast. Well, sorta. This is a funny, sad, and somewhat uncomfortable podcast about choosing vulnerability and talking openly about our pain. This podcast is presented by Patagonia. Here’s the show.

(ET): When he died, I knew that I was not going to put him underground. He was gonna stay home with me. And I got his ashes and I brought him home. And in my fireplace at home that we don’t really use—I decided to make a shrine and I put his box of ashes there and I covered it with his Swiss flag because he was very proud to be Swiss. He always had that flag—that was his flag. And I put all sorts of special things that meant so and a lot of his friends have come by to visit Phillip.

You know, and it’s a whole different feel to go to a cemetery or to come to our house and just see all these photos and stones and pieces of wood from trees from the places that he climbed. You know—like, Font in France. Wherever I go that is relevant to him, I pick something—just little things that meant something to him.

Photos, the last book he was reading when he died, which was Papillion—which was the first book that he ever read when I forced him to stay home and read: “Ok, you’re gonna read this book and you’re not leaving this room until you read the first chapter!” And that was what just took off. It was such a great book that he just loved reading ever since. So, he was reading the book again.

(KK): Death is often viewed as this finite thing, but Eloise challenges this idea by scattering the ashes of her son all over the world. And because grief never truly ends; rather, it just evolves and tempers over time, she found a way to celebrate Phillip’s life and infuse meaning and infuse meaning in his death.

(ET): Yeah, it’s a great idea and I think I’ve opened a lot of eyes to people to think that—what happens, you know. Well, it doesn’t have to be something morbid—it can be something really great. And it’s just very nice—seeing something. You’re not on the grass looking at a stone. He would have been petrified to know that he was gonna be buried. I would be. I don’t wanna be underground.

And people are not freaked out, you know. Which is amazing. Because I was a little bit nervous at first. And then, I opened the box and it was just ashes and there was nothing to be freaked out about. But you just have to take that step—because you don’t know, it’s a new feeling. You’re not prepared. We’re not taught how to deal with these issues.

(KK): Eloise currently lives a wonderful life in Middletown, Connecticut. She and her husband Josef spend their days running a restaurant, building community, and in between, they take some time out of their busiest weeks to sail their small boat around the lake.

At home, Eloise keeps Phillip alive in pictures and stones and a little book that she asks friends and family to write in when they come and visit—and they visit.

(ET): It’s a city—it’s a small city—Middletown, here in Connecticut. And Phillip’s friends, when they come to Connecticut—some live here. They’re really nice. They make it an effort to seek me out and some come to see me at home. Some come to Brew Baker’s.

And for me, it’s wonderful and I think it’s really nice because people forget. And I’m the mom, so you know, why bother with the mom? But they do bother with the mom. And we just celebrated Phillip’s thirty-eighth birthday and we get a lot of “happy birthdays” from his friends, from all over the world. People haven’t forgotten about him.

As soon as he was born, he started traveling. And so, very early on, he had a sense of the world. And so, whenever he would have the summers off, we would go traveling. But for me, it was important that he sees other places in the world—even in this country. There’s so much to see! So, to go and see how other people live. And then he started school and he went to Montessori school, which is very hands-on—very sensory.

And all that prepared him to be the independent person that he became. And I sent him to a sort of an Outward Bound, but in Connecticut. But the same idea. Like twenty-one days, they did the solo. And that’s where he discovered climbing. And he came back from that and that was the beginning—and he never looked back.

And he turned his room into a climbing wall. You know, it goes with the Montessori thing. You wanna build something? Ok! Build it. And if it’s in your room? Ok, fine—it’s not in my living room! So, you would go into his room and there was his climbing wall and he had the holds all over—and then, he did the same with the garage. And you had to park the cars outside because inside was a climbing gym.

And he was very meticulous, you know? And he would do pull-ups. He would get those bars that you put in the top of the doorway, and he would do pull-ups. And every day, he was obsessed! He never even cared about homework; he cared about getting in shape and becoming a great climber.

And school wasn’t fun for him. I can’t say I was such a responsible mother that I forced it. His dad left the ski business because all his bones in his body were broken. So, he couldn’t ski anymore. So, he became a salesman for a Dutch cooperation selling packaging machines all over the world. So, he was always traveling and I was home alone with Phillip.

And I had to go to work so, I was never there to supervise any kind of schoolwork. Little did I know, he was not doing any schoolwork. He was doing climbing and doing this and reading books about climbing. And that was his passion that he discovered when he was about sixteen. Pretty late!

Back then, I would drive half an hour to Prime Climb in Wallingford and drop him off. And then, I’d have to drive another hour back and forth—about four times a week, because that’s what he wanted to do and I thought, “Ok. That’s what he wants to do, that’s what he wants to become—I’m gonna let him do it!” His mind was on climbing and I thought, “This kid has it from his dad—he’s gonna be an athlete.”

And, you know, and we started having problems with his dad. And eventually, we got divorced—and climbing was his escape. And he was going to the Gunks and he discovered sushi. So, he told me to buy him a cookbook—you know, how to make sushi. And he would get up early in the morning and make a whole container Tupperware of sushi that looked so good—and he would give me one or two pieces, and that was it! Because that was food for the whole day of climbing! 

And, unfortunately, that stepfather was not very nice—not very kind. So, that was another reason why he would just leave and go to Vermont climbing—to wherever he could go climbing! And, by now, he had a car. And I encouraged it. Because, you know, don’t stay home where this guy’s gonna be so mean.

You know, so I personally was dealing with all that. I had my own issues, but as long as Phillip was safe, doing what he loved to do—I was in that game with him. I supported that. It was healthy stuff, and so, I supported that.

And then, eventually, I got divorced. And it just—it wasn’t a happy time for him, you know? Very abusive. But he stayed very focused on his climbing. And I was surprised that he stayed so focused because things at home can influence you in the right or the wrong way, you know?

And I was happy that he was pursuing his career. And I was raising his little brother, Billy, who also had to live up to that situation that was rough. And so, they both were really kind of like survivors—all three of us. We always bonded—the three of us.

And then, Phillip went off and he traveled the world with Nikki—do you know Nikki? She lives in Boulder. And they went all over the place. And then, when they came back, they went to South Africa. They went to—I forget what it is. What is it, Josef?

(JOSEF): Mallorca.

(ET): Mallorca! So, that is one of my main bucket list-I need to go and personally throw some ashes in Mallorca. That’s my excuse to go and have a little vacation to Mallorca. But he went all over these beautiful places in the world. So, I was so happy that despite all this—that it could have sent him off the deep end and just, he turned all that into this positive career.

(KK): Some could say that Phillip’s career started when he moved to New York City. That’s where he leaned into a career as a routesetter. It’s where the OG BKB took him in as extended family. Not much had changed except for Phillip’s location—he was still obsessed with climbing—and he still did not share his sushi with Eloise.

(ET): No, but—

(KK): (laughs)

(ET): —we went to eat steak tartare at Balthazar’s and at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station. We always, every trip to New York, ended there—the three of us—eating oysters. So, it was either steak tartare at Balthazar’s or oysters at Grand Central Station, you know? But no—no sushi.

But it was always wonderful to visit him! And sometimes I would just show up at the gym and just surprise him. And then, he would take the rest of the day off to go and hang out with me. And he was so proud to introduce me to all his friends. He was like, “This is my mom.” And I always felt, “Wow, he’s really proud of that.”

And he got an offer. And the day right after Hurricane Sandy, he had to go to New York to his interview at Brooklyn Boulders and they hired him right away. And, next thing I knew, he was looking for an apartment and he found this apartment in Brooklyn and he’s moving in and—it all happened really fast.

He got a great offer and they treated him so well—he was happy there. They treated him like he was supposed to be treated—like anybody is supposed to be treated. You know? With a lot of respect. And what they did when he died was really amazing. So touching, and every day for two weeks that he was in the hospital after work—everybody was coming to the hospital.

First, he was in Brooklyn. And then, I had him transferred to Columbia Presbyterian because I didn’t want any stones unturned and I wanted him to have the very best. And he did—but he was brain dead.

(KK): Let’s back up. Because everything that Eloise is about to talk about next happened so fast. What happened at the party, what she believes, her truth and her experience.

(ET): They spiked his drink—with some really hard stuff. And some people came to the hospital to tell me. Their stories all matched. And what happened was that he went to clarify an issue with someone and that person proceeded to put something—some pills or something—in his drink. That drink was some kind of a substance and it says that it was oxycodone, and the report also says that it was heroin.

But whatever it was sent him to the sofa and people thought, “Oh, he’s just sleeping—passed out.” So, they all went to bed, they went home—wherever. And there is Phillip on the sofa, sleeping. The next morning, he’s in the same position and the girl and the guy that lived in that apartment—they just thought, “Oh, he’s still sleeping.” So, they left—they went to work.

Sixteen hours later, they came back from work—Phillip is in the same position. Nobody did anything. They called the guy who had done this, and now they knew they were in trouble. And they dragged his body down to the street and left him there. Ok? Like garbage.

And a passerby found the body and called an ambulance—called 911. And they took him away. And, of course, the person that did it—that dragged the body down—took his cell phone and his wallet. So, he arrived in the hospital just Joe Doe! No name, they didn’t know who to call—nothing.

At the time it all happened, I was in Chile. I had just arrived. I spent two days in Chile—the day I arrived and the next day when I left. And Josef thought that it was a crank call. And, Josef being from Austria, he didn’t understand what they’re talking about—with this Brooklyn accent and he had no idea. And he was gonna hang up! And they said, “No, no! This is about Phil—and he is in the hospital.”

And Josef said, “Call his brother.” Billy lives in New York so, they contact Billy. Billy dropped everything and went right over to the hospital to identify his brother—who was full of tubes. Everywhere—even in his feet—he had tubes. His whole body was a road map of tubes. And he had to identify him.

And then, they were trying to contact me in Chile and by now, I was in the desert in the north with no signal until that night. I got a signal and I get these messages from Josef and from Billy: “You need to call home right away.” I told my friend—I said, “There’s something wrong with Phillip. I need to call.” And then, they told me. And Josef had already arranged my flight back to New York.

And then I—you can imagine my reaction when I saw him. 

(sighs)

There are no words. It’s just—you see your kid there full of tubes coming out of everywhere, everywhere. You know. It was pretty heavy. Pretty heavy.

But people from all over were coming to visit him, were calling him. And friends from home, all of his friends from New York—from the gym. People came from different states. Some from Connecticut. People that I hadn’t seen in years! They called him and I put the phone in his ear.

There were like, about two days, maybe three days that he had his eyes open. And I knew that he could see me. Because I’ve heard that—from people who have been in comas—that they can see people. They can’t communicate but they can see that you’re there, and they remember that you’re there.

And when he died, we had to decide to pull the plug. My cousin was there. My sister’s son was there. Friends from the gym were there. Berger was there. Nikki was there—she had come from Colorado. A lot of kids from the gym—kids that you know. Miles—you know Miles? Miles was there. And it was very touching. And all those guys. They were great guys. I love those people. They were like my kids. I have such a mother complex, you know?

(KK): We’re gonna take a short break. We’ll be back

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- Even though we say it in different ways, our message is the same: Climbing is our home.

(FEMALE VOICE): Community is rock solid.

(NON-GENDERED VOICE): People I like, feel connected to.

(FEMALE VOICE): The support and love.

(MALE VOICE): Human connection—that’s what we’re all striving for.

(FEMALE VOICE): That’s what climbing is to me—it’s magic.

(KK): Whether we do it to find connection within ourselves, with each other, with the land, or for the food (ok, it’s kind of always about the food)—climbing shapes us as individuals and a collective. These are the voices that make up a community; the ones that call us back home.

(FEMALE VOICE): What has climbing taught you?

(FEMALE VOICE): Uhh—

(MALE VOICE): Climbing’s taught me—

(FEMALE VOICE): Climbing has taught me—

(MALE VOICE): —taught me to be patient, ‘cause you know, great things take time.

(FEMALE VOICE): I wake up, and I think about climbing—

(MALE VOICE): What’s the real reason that you climb?

(FEMALE VOICE): —I go to sleep thinking about climbing.

(FEMALE VOICE): The crag food.

(FEMALE VOICE): —all of the food.

Each climber’s voice is a point of contact into the broader community. Connect with more stories and check out Patagonia’s climbing apparel that’s built to move and built to last at Patagonia.com/climbing.

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Because climbing is more than a sport—it’s history, disciplines, technical gear and community—Vibram aims to tell the world of climbing from their side of things—no, literally, like, from the other side of the Atlantic. 

(KK): Eloise pieced together what she could from friends of Phillip’s. Having to deal with the police, Eloise experienced firsthand the stigma that surrounds drug use disorder. The reality is that stigma can be weaponized in different forms. Public education has made gains in helping to destigmatize things such as mental illness, but little progress has been made around substance use disorders.

Even the term “abuse” conveys the notion that someone has control, and therefore willfully engages. The term “disorder” may convey medical malfunction, thus increasing the likelihood of more empathy and therapeutic approach.

(ET): And we called the Brooklyn police. They came; they sent their private investigator and all that. And they, without doing any research said to me, “Your son was a drug addict.”

I said, “If my son was a drug addict, he did not deserve this. That is besides the point. You can say whatever you want—you don’t know my son. You know nothing about him. You just know that he’s here and that we called you to come and talk to us to see if you can go and do your job.”

“Well, you know, what are you gonna do? He was a drug addict. He did it to himself.”

And I’m trying to deal with the reality of my son—that he is being kept alive. And I have to deal with these detectives and cops from Brooklyn? And the next day, they called my number. I was out having coffee with this girlfriend of Phillip’s at the time. And they called me and they asked to talk to this girlfriend. So, I said, “Ok.” You know. Then, she gets on the phone and she gets off and she said, “You will never believe what that was all about.” 

And I said, “What?”

And the guy cop wanted to know the name and the phone number of this friend of Philip’s who had been there that same night and had spoken to them, and really liked her and wanted to call her to invite her out to dinner. These are the cops in Brooklyn. And I reported them. I called the whatever—the Bureau of whatever whatever. And, you know, we’re worried here about who did this thing to my son—and all they could think about was, “How am I gonna get this girl to go out to dinner with me?”

But, you know, I did my investigations and I found out that he had been in trouble and that he was due in court. And Billy and I—we went to court and my heart was beating so fast that I thought, “My god, it’s gonna jump out of my body any minute now!”

I was petrified and I sat in that courtroom staring at this guy the whole time. And we went and we waited at the front door of the courthouse and I called him over. And he was so startled and he turned around and he said, “Yeah?”

And as soon as I called his name, I went into this really peaceful state of mind. It was like Phillip was telling me, “Ok. You got him. Say what you have to say. Get it out of your system and—you’re gonna be fine.”

And so I said, “You know Phillip Schaal?”

“Yeah!” 

And I said, “I’m his mom.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” And he went to shake hands with me. “I’m so sorry, I heard the news.”

And I said to him, “You killed my son. I’m not gonna shake your hand.”

And—“No, I didn’t kill your—“

“Your drugs killed my son and if it’s the last thing I do in my life, I will go after and I will make sure that the day comes that you are behind bars forever. Because if you did it to my son, you’re doing it to a lot of other people.” And I was really proud of myself, you know?

And as soon as I said that, I said, “Come on, Billy. Let’s get out of here.” ‘cause then I was like, “Let’s run out of here before they come and do something to us!” And we got in the car and we left.

And then I just thought, “You know what? This thing is killing me. I’ve got to just forget it. You know, occasionally I’ll get a random call from the narcotics division in New York—the police asking me questions about this guy. And they haven’t closed the case. And I know that someday, he’s gonna get caught, and I hope they let me know. I don’t know. For all I know, he’s already in jail.

And he had his whole life ahead. And I’m very open about it because it’s a thing that’s killing so many people. So many, oh my god. You know, and it’s a real danger and it’s gotta be stopped. So, it’s not taboo. Some people are ashamed. I am not ashamed. I am like an advocate—I wanna keep kids safe. And eventually, I’ll get what I need. But anyway, Phillip is ok, and he’s with me and his brother and his friends—every step of the way.

(KK): Two and a half weeks after Phillip was found and taken to the hospital, he was taken off life support and passed away peacefully, leaving Eloise and Billy to endure the painful void.

But in many ways, Phillip continues to live on. After his death on October twenty-second, over 50 people were gifted with Phillip’s healthy organs. And Eloise takes comfort in knowing that. Eloise also takes great comfort in talking about her loss, believing that grief doesn’t have to be the big, scary conversation people are often afraid to have.

(ET): I have learned to be able to talk without breaking down and it’s really hard.

(pauses)

It comes and goes, you know? It’s like, you try to hold it in but it’s so powerful that it comes out and people say, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” And I’m like, “No! I want people to bring it up. I want to talk about it because he’s not forgotten—he’s very much with me, all the time, wherever I go. I have him here—

(gestures to chest)

—and then, I have his ashes in here. You know, so I wear him. It’s good when people talk about him. And the people who know me, they know. And they don’t fear talking about Phillip. And it’s not taboo.

People want—and this is a lesson that I learned when this happened to me—that people don’t want for their loved one to be forgotten. They wanna keep that memory alive. So, it’s good when you go to someone, as uncomfortable as it may be for you, the other people welcome it. It’s ok.

And I would be mortified to talk about someone and have somebody start crying! And I would apologize: “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I did, what I said.” It’s not like that at all. It’s ok to talk because people want to talk about their loved one that passed away. So, it’s ok, everybody out there. Ask them what they need and say, “Tell me about this person that you lost.”

(KK): “Phil’s death is still surreal, and I know I’m just one of many who knew him, who miss him, and my memories of him are just a small slice of the person he was. I wrote him a few letters while he was in the hospital and will leave this last note dedicated to him or anybody who’s hurting or missing.

It’s been months since you left now. Since your chest stopped heaving, your heart stopped beating, and you stopped breathing without the help of a machine. Maybe you, wherever your consciousness was, left days before you had on the hospital gown you would have hated. It’s been even longer since I saw you in real life last, weeks since we texted, and days I didn’t count since the world slightly changed with your departure.

The worst part of waking up and doing only the things you have to do and none of the things one loves to do, for me, is the lost days, the blank pages in my notebook. All I’ve been writing are notes to you, wherever you are, and the last one since you left: even if you were a ghost now, I’d come running to you in the dark trying to hug your lonely soul.” [Cyrena Lee]

- Even though I still have no idea what I’m doing—things are happening. And if you’d like to help out and support us, check out patreon.com where you can sponsor us for as little as one cup of bodega coffee. It really helps keep this podcast going, and for the record—we love bodega coffee. Special shout out to Peter Darmi because he makes this thing sound good.

- You’re listening to For the Love of Climbing Podcast. A huge thank you to deuter, one of the leading backpack brands that will help you hit the trails with confidence and comfort. And a big thank you to Gnarly Nutrition for supporting this podcast and the messages that we share. Gnarly Nutrition supports a community of vulnerability and equality—and tastes like a milkshake, without all the crap. A big shout out to Allez Outdoor for supporting the Access Fund and 1% for the Planet. Allez Outdoor Personal Care products are made by climbers for those who love the outdoors. And thanks to Patagonia. Not bound by convention, Patagonia is in business to save our home planet.

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