A long, long time ago there was a tribe of climbers dedicated to all that was and is rock climbing. They bathed in streams and lakes, made their gear out of bed frames, and lived under the shade of the crag. As time passed this group started to become civilized. Hot water showers, "real" jobs, cell phones with data packages, neon shoes with arch support, full suspension packs, toilet paper, protein bars, and sophisticated training gyms all but eliminated the dirtbag climbers. Then one day, a new group emerged. Seeking to satisfy a mysterious inner calling they left their air conditioned cubicles for the mountains once more. Thus the weekend warriors were born. Choosing to fight back against the tyranny of the daily grind with calluses the size of quarters and forearms as hard as steel. They cook, sell, program, file, and serve. They live among us, only to appear after the Monday-Friday 9-5. They come in all sizes and ages, countries and backgrounds to achieve a similar goal. Crush.
Enter my friend Brett. Salesman at Discount Tire he is knowledgable in all things relating to tires and tire-like objects. But on the weekend he swaps out his mechanical tools for quickdraws and rope. He is the essence of inexhaustible stoke. Reward yourselves with the following photos and let your bodies be reclaimed by the wilderness.