When did you know you were a #dirtbag?

My  Dirtbag Sunday go to meeting shirt 

Ehhhhhh throwing a #hashtag in front of the term “dirtbag” seems like a perversion of the purest form of the term, which I’ll borrow from here.

dirtbag climber (durt-bag kli-mer) n. a person who dedicates her or his entire existence to the pursuit of climbing, making ends meet using creative means. A dirtbag will get her food out of a dumpster, get his clothes from a thrift store, and live in a tent or vehicle to save money. Often found living near major climbing destinations the dirtbag is a rebel with a cause who finds happiness in nature. When the dirtbag grows up (if ever), he or she often is drawn to a profession engaged with the outdoors and/or creative arts.

In my opinion, “dirtbag” is a state of mind, not an echelon that can be attained or merit that can be awarded.

Have you sacrificed comfort and/or the security of a well-traveled path to venture (methodically) into the unknown in search of personally meaningful and fulfilling experiences? Yes? Cool. That’s dirt-bagging.

Having said all that, and definitely not going so far as to claim title to “dirtbag” status:

Waking up at 3am to sights and sounds of being surrounded by lightning strikes while laying in a bivy bag in the dirt in a pullout of some ranch road a few feet off the highway, somewhere north of Amarillo TX but southeast of the New Mexico/Colorado border, because my car was loaded with literally everything I own and I wanted to sleep lying down... Debating with myself as to whether I’d rather get up and try to sleep in my blown-out driver’s seat, or tempt fate and risk electrocution for a good night’s sleep... well... that’s a “dirtbag” experience I’m grateful for and won’t soon forget, but definitely wouldn’t recommend as a “good time” worth emulating.

When baby wipes are too expensive to bathe  with  and you use a rag and a pot of water.

Used 2climbwrote: When you're too busy climbing and working crappy part time jobs to post on MP.

#vanlifeisacrime

Not sure what you’re doing during your crappy part time jobs...   

Found a pair of miuras in a dumpster in Squamish and got in a bumfight over them.

one of the first times i realized just how free and easy my lifestyle had become thanks to climbing happened in a busy, expensive tourist area of seattle.  my friends and i had been on the road for about 3 weeks climbing and skiing volcanoes up the west coast.  3 of us had been living out of a small tacoma.  we had gotten to mount rainier but there was bad weather projected for the next 3 days.  we had been sleeping in the dirt so we figured if we were going to wait out weather, we should get a room at a hostel in seattle and sample some city life while we waited for better weather.  none of us knew our way around seattle so we went to the only landmark we knew of: pike place market.  coming from colorado, good seafood was scarce so we decided to treat ourselves while we were in a coastal city.  we went to some seafood place that looked like it would have a reasonable lunch.  we each ordered something small and inexpensive from the menu and went upstairs with our order number to wait for our food to be brought to us.  while we were eating there was an elderly couple next to us, eating their own lunch.  they looked fairly well to do.  they finished up and left their dishes sitting on the table when they left.  we peered over into the massive bowl and saw a mostly uneaten feast of pasta with clams, mussels, scallops, shrimp, and oooooh was that even a lobster tail?!  this had to be a $40 menu item and the retirees who ordered it barely made a dent.  so what do we do?  OF COURSE we take their leftovers over to our table.  needless to say, when the server brought us our small order he took one look at the meal we were already eating, and the meal we had ordered and was able to put 2 and 2 together.  he realized exactly what was going on but we were paying customers so he left us to enjoy our food.  

as i sat there eating someone elses leftovers, shamelessly pilfered from their table i realized i was well on my way to becoming a true-blue dirtbag.

abandon moderation wrote:

You guys need to stop doing manicures in your Sprinter and go get some pitches in.

Nah, probably got 60+ days of climbing on my last pair, all quartz monzonite and granite.

I heard a rumor of a guy (possibly in Moab?) who'd keep gloves going for years, like the Ship of Theseus...