Abbey Smith

Abbey Smith

Pick up any publication pertaining to the sport of rock climbing, and chances are, you will see a smattering of descriptive chronicles highlighting the travels and adventures of the prolific scribe Abbey Smith. A climber and writer for over 10 years, Abbey travels extensively, financing her jet set lifestyle though her writing, allowing her more opportunities to pursue her love of adventure. Abbey has reported on a myriad of topics. From the exclusive hobby of vintage motor racing, to sassy, healthy-savvy posts on BeThree.com, to being on the editorial staff of the independent green publication elephant journal, a quarterly magazine devoted to living the "mindful life" through conscious consumerism, sustainability, eco-fashion and non new-aged spirituality.

Abbey's energy for writing is ravenous. When she speaks of it, her article ideas roll out of mouth in constant barrage without commas, periods, or other punctuation, but when placed in front of a computer, the word stream subsides into descriptive prose reminiscent of Joanne Harris. Dead Point Magazine is privileged to have her as a contributing blogger.

LaSportiva
Verve
Revolution
MARMOT

BLOG ENTRIES

People always hate on Hueco Tanks for its strict regulations that hinder your freedom to climb wherever and whenever with your friends. Yes, there are restrictions and governing bodies limiting the numbers and access to the p
It was almost too good to be true. This Christmas season, I received the greatest gift of all -- the gift of girlfriends.
Roosters crowing, guns firing and dogs barking pierce through the desert silence each morning as I sip my coffee and peer across the barren valley at the panoramic view of Hueco Tank's front side.
I've never considered myself to be a homebody. Whenever I get comfortable, my transient nature takes over and I need to shake life up again. But ever since I moved from downtown Boulder to Eldorado Springs, I seldom leave the
Do you ever feel like Bill Murray in the 1993 comedy Groundhog day, where he was forced to relive the same day over and over again? I do. Last month I disconnected from my program to participate in three separate photo shoots
"Rock! Rock!" a woman's voice echoed from 100 yards above. The horrific sound of crashing rock immediately followed as I ducked down turtle style near a three-foot wall for shelter.
I don't even know where to begin. Three weeks ago, I was at the zenith of happiness and success. I was riding the creative wave, writing daily, climbing strong and enjoying the warm summer rays with friends by the pool.
As Jason's custom Chevy Astro van slipped out of gear and rolled to a stop on an isolated dirt road deep in the Henry Mountains in Utah, I was stricken with fear of getting stranded in the desert.
Waiting for the high alpine bouldering areas to open makes me feel like a teenager counting down the days until summer break. The anticipation is agonizing. Nothing is satisfying.
"If you follow the herd, your view never changes," my father said to me as we sat on the sun-drenched porch one Friday afternoon after I returned from a shotgun road trip to Hueco Tanks. With the current state of the world st