Bruce Barcott

Oct 26, 2004
Outside Magazine

Seattle-based Contributing Editor Bruce Barcott isn't afraid to get dirty in order to find a good story. In his October 2004 piece for Outside about amateur archeologist, Jack Harelson, entitled "The Killing Bones," he was forced to explored a cave and found himself elbows deep in bat guano. Barcott is the author of The Measure of a Mountain: Beauty and Terror on Mount Rainier. His articles on environmentalism and the outdoor world have appeared in the New York Times Magazine, Harper's, Mother Jones, Sports Illustrated, and Legal Affairs. He's married to fellow writer Claire Dederer. The couple have two children.

The Killing Bones
The thriving criminal trade in Native American archaeological artifacts always seems to be one step ahead of law enforcement. But when cops learned that a notorious Oregon antiquities collector had graduated from grave robbing to ordering up a contract murder, their macabre sting operation exposed the dark side of digging up the past.

Eric Rudolph Slept Here
The most wanted man in America survived five years in the North Carolina woods, eating salamanders, sleeping on the cold ground, and stalking deer. Or so he says. Spend a night in his secret mountain hideaway and you get the feeling there's more to this story.

Last Flight Out
The Macal River Valley in Belize is home to three-toed tapirs, elusive jaguars, and a rare subspecies of scarlet macaw. But if Belize Electricity Ltd. gets its way, one of the richest riparian habitats north of the Amazon will disappear beneath the waters of a controversial hydroelectric dam. So who's gonna get zapped?

It's Weird Out There
From Sasquatch to the Mothman, our writer takes on the supernatural

"Sasquatch Is Real!"
Forest Love Slaves Tell All

WARNING: This Article Is About Million-Dollar Lawsuits Prompted by Accidents, Injury, and Death in the Outdoors...

It sounded like a good idea at the time: Journey to the sopping epicenter of the wettest place on earth, bag the peak, and get back in time for supper. But that was before the clouds clamped down on Mount Waialeale. Before the jungle closed in and the map became irrelevant. Before the machete-wielding, pig-hunting swamp guide said, "Would be so easy to get lost back there, brah."

Everest Profile: The Toddfather
The most imposing figure on Everest has been told to stay home. But don't count Henry Todd out yet.

Dog is My Copilot

For God So Loved the World
Call them God's Greens. Armed with Scripture and a righteous respect for nature, a host of religious groups have taken up the environmental fight and are waging holy war on behalf of an embattled creation. But, critics ask, is this a truly divine cause-or the devil's work?

Our Son of a Bitch

Snoop: The Secret Life and Prying Times of Barry Clausen

The Secret Life of Guides
every guide's life comes a time when the best laid plans go wrong in the worst possible way. It's a moment every veteran guide has already faced, or has been preparing for over many years. It is his baseline jump shot at the buzzer, his three-two heater in the bottom of the ninth. The only difference is, if he fumbles or freezes, people may die.

The Height of Perfection.
Alex Lowe's genius was his style and spirit

The Hunting of the Poacher King
Deep in Oregon's Umpqua River territory, houndsman Ray Hillsman was bad news for bears, hunting them with dogs, killing hundreds, and selling their gallbaldders on the black market. Then one day Ray opened his mouth in front of the wrong man-and that was the beginning of the end of the poacher king.

Line of Ascent
On a breeding ground for greatness, wisdom comes one humble step at a time

Love and Death and the Leviathan's Lair
At first glance, the fight seems both easy and familiar. Baby whales, good. Rapacious multinational conglomerate, bad. But on a scouting trip among the gigantic grays of Mexico's Laguna San Ignacio, only one thing is quite clear: sometimes being green is not all black-and-white.

Blow Up
Swing a hammer, light a fuse, and let the dams come tumbling down. So goes the cry these days on American rivers, where vandals of every stripe—enviros and fishermen and interior secretaries, among others—wage battle to uncork the nation's bound-up waters.

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