John Sherman

John Sherman

John Sherman is the Godfather of American bouldering. Without his broad shoulders to stand on, Daniel Woods would be toproping 5.7 right now.

Stone Master
Metolius

BLOG ENTRIES

We can use the modern definition where R means “oooh, I’m pooing myself” and X means “waaah, I got an owie.”
The defining characteristic of my homemade Lucky 13 Bean Chili is the unique flatulence it inspires.
Ah, the much maligned hex. The clunking cowbell of climbing pro.
Welcome from Scotchdale, Arizona, where last night I was scheduled to be interviewed on the Climb Talk radio show in Boulder, but technical difficulties screwed up the whole deal.
You’re starting up on your on-sight attempt of Joy To The World. Things are going well up past the courtesy clip and the next several pre-hung draws, the moves playing out just like in the video you studied.
Magic Wood is a landslide of big boulders in a deep valley. It’s picture book Swiss alpine landscape dotted with tiny villages, cows wearing bells, and long waterfalls tumbling down the walls. Here’s the nearby village.
Climbing photojournalism is dead. I’ve been thinking this for years, but it really sank in this morning as I discovered the DSL connection wasn’t fast enough to let me flip through the latest DPM
Wow, who knew that poking fun at a soulless Wall Mart (always the steep price!) would generate such diverse reactio
I just wanted to get in a few topropes to test my recently operated-on knees and it was snowy outside. So I made the mistake of going to the new Hole Fuuds Climbing Gym in the Center of the Climbing Universe.
You know that juicy gristly sound you hear when yarding the leg off the Thanksgiving turkey? The creepy gurgling pop and rip? Well I didn't have to wait until Thanksgiving this year