Here at ThunderCling we like rock climbing a whole lot. We like to stick our hands into both little and big cracks, accompanied by widgets of varying sizes. We like clipping carabiners to metal hangers, even if they sometimes spin. Especially if they sometimes spin. We like spending months in a bouldering area, rarely ascending over 30 feet in a single instance but finding never-ending inspiration in the movement, the vibe, the people we meet along the way. We care about literature, too. An politics.
ThunderCling is the hardest you’ve ever tried. ThunderCling is breaking bones and blowing snot and bleeding relentlessly all to stand on top of some stupid rock, metaphorical or not. At ThunderCling, we love stupid rocks.
The folks at ThunderCling care about media. We like thoughtful essays written by regular Joe’s and Jane’s. We like narrative non-fiction that we can taste and smell, the kinds of articles that make us want to pack up the old Gravy Train and head off to the next pit-stop on this endless road trip. We want to snort coffee out our noses because Joe and Jane made us laugh.
We don’t like any form of climbing or literature or political media that pedals our sport/lifestyle for the big box, low quality and uninspired bullshit mentality. We also don’t much care for the “Top Ten Ways to Win Over Your Climbing Sweetheart” pieces rife on the intertrons or the latest news of a 22 year old without a job crushing the sickest V15 like evah’! We love the sicky gnar-gnar, but not all of it.
Are you on board? If you’d like to submit to ThunderCling, email Dave McAllister at email@example.com. Throw in a short bio and tag on the piece. We don’t have money to pay you. Indeed, we don’t have money to pay ourselves. We don’t even have chalk to give you or insight on how to climb better, smoother or with greater speed. We can lend a home for your words, art or photography and promote it on the webbies.
Let’s build a community. ThunderCling is all of ours to share.