John Long

Most know him for his historic big wall ascents in Yosemite. But in fact, his favorite pastime was always bouldering. Here, he reflects on the discipline's evolution.

"The last thing I remember after reaching the chains at the top of the route is landing feet first on the ground, crumpling in a heap."

The void swallowed him alive, his streaking form more easily imagined than described. The air froze in my chest.

The tent flap was thrown open and I saw, or thought I saw, a hooded figure, waving a gloved hand and yelling, “Come on. Get over here!” I was worse off than I thought. Seeing and hearing things.

John Long is one of climbing's most prolific authors. He's also one of its most beloved characters.

When an airplane smuggling a load of high-grade marijuana crashed in a Yosemite lake, a gold rush of climbers hauled out a fortune in brick weed right under the noses of the authorities.

Each January we post a farewell tribute to those members of our community lost in the year just past. Some of the people you may have heard of, some not. All are part of our community and contributed to climbing.

The cave is so hidden and far-flung that thousands of climbers, searching for anything new, had over the years walked right past and never saw it.

Paul Gleason was a talent of his generation and would be well-known today, but his greater impact was elsewhere, in firefighting where he revolutionized and saved lives.

Cast by chance into the frenzy of a dramatic rescue, the author confronts his youthful fears head on.

It was an artful deceit, a blurring of fact that eventually led to one of Yosemite's finest routes.

As a teenager he saw a terrible accident on El Capitan. A chance meeting 40 years later finally brought closure.

Young and eager for adventure the author and his gang of few pushed bouldering standards higher and higher until the line between bouldering and soloing vanished.

No water, no sleeping bag, dead car battery, thorns and wind, punctuated Largo's road trip south of the border. And those were the highlights.

Stonemaster John Long recounts his time with Jeff, a one-time climbing bum and the son of an affluent family. Jeff leaves climbing and dutifully follows his family's riches, while John stays true to the only rule that counts.

John Long recounts his wild adventures with a fellow Stonemaster you might not know about, but should.

The writer and stonemaster John Long dives into the lore (and his own experiences) on his favorite 5.10: The East Buttress of El Cap

Guided by Herman Buhl's famous "truisms," a young John Long gets into a ropeless jam high on Tahquitz Rock.

Climbing has long celebrated hard drinking and drugs. Many climbers become lifelong alcoholics and addicts and their families, friends and climbing partners bear the high price. One of climbing's most iconic figures fell into the pit, but pulled himself out and now has an important lesson every climber should read.

Check out John Long's author page.

From Long's latest book "Icarus Syndrome", this chapter weaves a hair-raising tale of fate, trauma, and mountain endeavors.

Clipping bolts back when ground up was the only way to climb almost felt illegal, immoral even, but even a diehard tradster and Stonemaster like John Long could see the light.

I hated this situation. I loved it, too. Not a soul, not even God, stood between me and the decision I faced. Do or fly.

Decades before John Bachar died in a solo fall, he took John Long on a ropeless "Half Dome": They'd climb 2,000 feet at Joshua Tree—without a rope.

John Long, an original Stonemaster, rolled into Yosemite in the early 1970s. He's learned a lot since then.

Cams and nuts can hold up against very high fall forces if placed correctly—but placing them correctly involves more than just shoving them in the first cracks you see.