Why Dirt Bag?
Dirtbag, noun. A climber who sleeps in the car.
Someone who trades comfort for more time on the rock. We kept the name and built the door: for the regulars, the first-timers, and the kids who have never touched a wall.
Welcoming with purpose, rooted in Puerto Rico.
A place that feels like Puerto Rico.
Culture is everything
To me, culture is what makes a place special, and Puerto Rico is special, to say the least. The moment you step onto the island, there's this overwhelming sense of calm, like your worries just melt away.
That's the energy I want for the gym: no bad vibes.
Culture, in all its forms, is a beautiful thing. You've got your warm cultures and your cold cultures, each with their own traits and charm. Cold cultures tend to be more blunt, direct, and structured. Warm cultures, on the other hand, are open, laid-back, and a little less concerned with time.
Puerto Rico is a warm culture. It's chill, it's flowy, and it knows how to enjoy the moment. That's the vision for Dirtbag. A place that feels like Puerto Rico. A space where the vibes are right, and the culture is everything.
Community
Community! This is where climbing shines the brightest. When you look back at the roots of climbing, it's always been about relationships and community.
That's why climbing means so much to me. It's more than a workout, more than a sport, more than a challenge. It's about the people. It's about the bonds you build, the memories you make, and the places climbing takes you.
That's what rock climbing is all about. And that's what Dirtbag is all about, too.
How it started
The first time I ever climbed a wall with real climbing shoes and a harness was on a cruise in the Caribbean with my family in 2020. The ship had a small climbing wall, and I was on it as much as humanly possible. I even broke the "speed" record for my age group, something I'm still proud of.
Of course, we all know what happened in 2020. At the time, I was living in Puerto Rico, and the lockdowns were strict. Like, really strict. Little Bridger got bored, so I built myself a climbing wall in the backyard using pallets and real rocks I "borrowed" by hopping a fence near a warehouse (definitely not legal). I drilled holes in the rocks and screwed them into the wall I'd put together.
The top of the wall led to the roof of our house, where I'd often hang out, stargaze, or even do schoolwork. My resources were small, but the stoke was huge, and that's when my climbing journey really began.