Luke Mehall considers himself a word person more than anything. And he is a dirtbag. He does not just appreciate the word “dirtbag” in his capacity as a writer – it is mythology, a lifestyle and, as the name of his podcast reflects, a state of mind.
Mehall, 43, is a rock climber. He is also the author of five books, the publisher of The Climbing Zine, host of the “Dirtbag State of Mind” podcast and the president and co-founder of the Durango Climbers Coalition. His publishing company is named Benighted Publications.
To those outside the climbing community, “dirtbag” may be a pejorative term applied to someone who does not embrace all of society’s conventions, especially with respect to wealth accumulation. But to many climbers, the term is an ideal – the aspiration of a lifestyle unencumbered by complexity.
“It’s a provocative word, it has a power in that sense,” Mehall said. “The best definition I’ve ever heard is that you’re living in the dirt, out of a bag.”
Hardly anyone is hard core about the lifestyle anymore. As rock climbing has entered the mainstream of American culture, it has brought with it an influx of money. Climbers, once known for hiding from law enforcement and camping among Yosemite’s boulders have traded tattered tents for luxury Sprinter vans. An activity that once mandated enduring grit is now popular among Bay-area yuppies.
Mehall says that it is the essence of the term, rather than the literal lifestyle, that endures.
“For me, I think it still has relevance because you’re simplifying your life,” he said. “Those are the best moments in my life, when my phone is turned off and I’m living simply with my friends, out climbing.”
Despite the fact that his identity is centered around sport in which one often encounters muscly males oozing machismo, Mehall works in the realm of vulnerability. His writing is centered around honesty and openness as much as it is about climbing. In a recent interview with Mehall on “Dirtbag State of Mind,” climbing legend Tommy Caldwell pointed out that climbing naturally provides an engaging backdrop for storytelling.
To truly digest how climbing and Mehall’s personal narrative coincide, one would have to read his writing for themselves. But the niche he has found resonates with climbers across the globe, particularly young men dealing with the same sorts of mental health struggles Mehall has faced.
“I get these messages every once in a while, and it’s usually young males that read the book, like ‘American Climber’ or some of my other writing, and it resonates with them because they’re going through something,” he said. “To be able to have that relationship with people is very important to me and very meaningful. It means a lot to me to be able to have that relationship with people that I might not even ever meet.”
Mehall has been writing since 1999, the year he moved to Colorado. He grew up in Normal, Illinois, and after attending two colleges in the state that didn’t “click,” he took to the road.
“I just came across the college and Gunnison, actually, on a road map of all things, and it was surrounded by green on the forest service (map),” Mehall said. “I just noticed there was so much green and then there was a college and it said ‘liberal arts college.’ And I went and applied and got in and then climbing just really kept me here.”
The three years after graduation are what Mehall describes as his “hard core dirtbag” years. He washed dishes to pay his expenses and he climbed, until a flare-up of tendinitis forced him slow the pace. As he approached 30 years of age, he realized it was time to seek regular employment. He landed a job in Gunnison, writing for his alma matter and began creating zines.
Mehall was laid off as a result of the 2008 recession and moved to Durango in 2010.
“This stage of my life has really been embraced by the community of Durango,” Mehall said. “The whole life of the Zine has basically been here.”
The community in Durango – the climbers and beyond – has kept him here.
“Maria’s (Bookshop) has been selling my books since day one, no questions asked,” Mehall said. “Durango Outdoor Exchange is a huge, huge supporter. I’ve worked with Pine Needle (Mountaineering) forever. The new Gravity Lab climbing gym is (owned by) friends of mine. There’s so many things about Durango.”
As a business owner, he sees himself as a capitalist. But he finds space for his reverence of the printed word to coexist with the need to run a profitable business.
“I’ve kind of gone all in on that,” Mehall said. “Other corporations that are more about a bottom line have gotten rid of print. The last Climbing Magazine just came out in print because they’re owned by a mega corporation. There’s that Talking Heads line that’s like, ‘never for money, always for love.’ You know, I need to earn a living but I’m not a bottom line kind of human being. And I don’t think human beings should be that way.”
As climbing has become more mainstream, Mehall had found a niche within the ever-changing landscape of the sport. Movies such as “Free Solo,” “Dawn Wall,” and “The Alpinist” have captured audiences, and the sport was featured in the 2020 Olympic Games for the first time.
But the fact that he can pay his mortgage by writing, podcasting and publishing The Climbing Zine is indicative, he says, of the countercultural space he occupies within climbing. The Zine is published three times per year with a circulation of between 5,000 to 10,000 copies per issue.
“Climbing used to be this counterculture thing,” Mehall said. “And now there’s like a counterculture within climbing. And I feel like that’s my thing. I think that poetry, the stories, all this stuff that comes out of climbing is like ... equally as important (as climbing).”
In recent years, Mehall has worked to build the Durango Climbers Coalition. The group of 100 loosely defined members has partnered with the city and county to take on conservation and restoration projects at local climbing areas. From climber beer nights to trail building events, he said DCC is all about fostering community.
“My whole thing with the climber’s coalition is that I want to give back and be that positive influence,” Mehall said. “When we first started meeting with land managers, they were like, ‘We don’t see representation from the climbers of Durango.’ And it was like, ‘Oh, well let’s start doing that!”
rschafir@durangoherald.com
