SEATTLE — Handwritten thank-you notes and fan letters cover every available square inch of the walls on the booth where Fitz Cahall records “The Dirtbag Diaries.” The heartfelt missives are a testament to the enduring appeal of one of the world’s most popular outdoor adventure podcasts, founded and still based in Seattle after almost 18 years and tens of millions of downloads.
Listeners tune in each week not for hero-worshipping tales of conquering Mount Everest but for intimate stories about the outdoors as a place for healing and personal growth. Episodes recount a moving effort to carry a pair of hiking boots the length of the Appalachian Trail belonging to an Australian hiker who died before he could fulfill his dream of completing the East Coast trek, or a coming-of-age journey for three high school graduates who embark on a monthlong paddle from Franklin, Tenn., to the Gulf of Mexico.
Now, 30 of the hit podcast’s best, most visual stories have been retold in a new book, “States of Adventure.” We spoke with Cahall in the University District office he shares with his wife, creative partner and executive producer Becca Cahall ahead of a Nov. 7 book talk at Seattle Bouldering Project. This interview has been edited for concision.
— Q: Why did you start “The Dirtbag Diaries”?
— A: I had pretty much given up on my writing career. I could sell the same story over and over about the famous athlete, but I had all these other stories that I didn’t see in Outside or Climbing magazine.
People use the outdoors as a way of living, to meet friends, find a life partner and raise their kids. It’s how they connect with themselves and this planet. And they have all the range of human experiences possible. There are hilarious moments, grief, the most basic human emotions. Outdoor media missed all of that. It was so two-dimensional and yet our community was deeply three-dimensional.
I found these stories fascinating and I felt like the rest of our community would as well. Launching the “Diaries” in 2007 was my bet on that belief.
— Q: You’ve thrived for almost two decades in audio format. Why translate your storytelling into book form?
— A: Coming out every week, we’ve published hundreds and hundreds of stories. It’s nice to have a physical manifestation of the medium you’ve been doing digitally for so long. I also have a tough time celebrating achievements. I always have this “onward,” “next” mentality. The book is a moment to take pride in the work we’ve done, which has sometimes been elusive for me.
— Q: How do you whittle hundreds of episodes down to 30 while balancing your own authorial voice with your contributors?
— A: There were periods where I would do more episodes about my own life. So I had a handful of personal essays that I could pull from. We use some of that material because my own growth as a person has been a backbone for the podcast.
But the “Diaries” really grew past me. Instead of just writing a memoir, I wanted the book to reflect the breadth of our community’s experience. What I see in there is a template for a life lived outside from the story about a teenage girl all the way to a teacher who’s now in his 80s. What we hope to achieve is that a reader would be able to see themselves in these stories.
— Q: The stories range across North America, but there are familiar Washington scenes — climbing at Index, skiing at Crystal Mountain. What life lessons have you drawn from nearly 30 years of time outside in the Evergreen State?
— A: In the story “Green Light,” I describe how there’s a blessing and a curse of living here. We have terrible traffic, but one of the best views when you’re on I-5 looking out at the Olympics.
Traffic can serve as a metaphor for being stuck in life. I’ve climbed all around the Cascades and had adventures across the country. One of the first things I saw when I arrived here in 1997 was The Brothers on the skyline out in the Olympics. I wanted to climb it. Then, you know, life happens. You have kids. Time passes.
I was stuck in I-5 traffic one day, and I decided it was the moment to go do it. Not that exact moment, but two weeks later, I reshuffled my life in such a way so that I could climb and snowboard off the top of The Brothers. The amazing thing about that peak: If you can see the summit from town, it means you can see town from the summit. That’s a powerful way to look back at your own life and everything you have going on.
Sometimes we take for granted what a special city we live in and what a special place we have with everything that’s going on in our day-to-day. Spending time in the natural landscape, doing things that aren’t necessarily quote-unquote productive … sometimes it allows us to take a moment and survey not just the world we live in, but [also] ourselves. That’s one of the powers of being outside.
