The irreversible journey towards liberation
There is a boldness to California’s water that mirrors the spirit of those who live and play here. From powerful Sierra rivers to thunderous Pacific surf, from the cold clarity of alpine lakes to the seasonal pulse of creeks in redwood canyons, California is a land shaped by movement — by the ceaseless carving of water through time and terrain. These waters do not just shape land; they shape people. And if we let them, they shape our destinies.
At Adventure Sports Journal, our mission has always been to inspire human-powered adventure in these wild places. For nearly 25 years, we’ve been hiking, climbing, paddling, riding, and running through California’s most beautiful and challenging terrain. And in doing so, we’ve discovered something profound: the outdoors is not just a playground, but a mirror. A proving ground. A place where we meet the parts of ourselves that the modern world too often buries.
In Buddhism, there is a term: “stream-enterer” — one who has entered the flow of the Dharma and begun the irreversible journey toward liberation. This isn’t a grand mystical title for the few; it’s a humble moment of choice that anyone can make. A decision to wade into the current of truth, to allow difficult emotions and deep questions to rise and be seen. In that sense, entering the stream is not an escape from struggle — it is a vow to face it honestly.
Here in California, where outdoor adventure is a form of devotion, we see stream entry quite literally. We immerse ourselves in swift rivers, cold lakes, wild surf. We go willingly into discomfort — not because we are fearless, but because we know fear has something to teach us. We seek out suffering in the elements not as martyrs, but as pilgrims. We hike steep trails, run whitewater, surf heavy waves, and confront the chaos within. This isn’t just recreation. It’s reclamation.
We speak of the daily Five Remembrances as a way to reflect on our mortality, the inevitability of aging and loss, the certainty of death, and the fact that our only true possession is our actions. The Three Doors of Liberation — emptiness, signlessness, and aimlessness — teach us that we are not as fixed or as separate as we think. Together, these teachings remind us: we are not here to escape suffering, but to transcend it. Not to conquer nature, but to let it show us who we are.
That’s why, at Adventure Sports Journal, we see the stewardship of the self — our body, our mind, our spiritual questions — as a gift we can offer the world. Each time we choose to paddle through fear, climb through doubt, or hike through sorrow, we return transformed. We come back stronger, clearer, more open-hearted. And in turn, we become better stewards of each other and this earth.
This magazine was founded nearly 25 years ago by three people who believed that outdoor adventure is a valid path to liberation. We started small — three friends with a dream, a few dollars, and a conviction that the mountains, rivers, and trails of California were more than playgrounds. They were temples. They still are. We are, and have always been, a humble, family-run labor of love operating in contrast to the alienation of digital platforms. And yet here we are, nearly a quarter-century later — still going, because of you.
To our readers, thank you. You have stood by us in an era when media outlets shutter and digital noise drowns out quiet truths. You’ve chosen to read stories that celebrate the raw, the wild, and the real. You’ve chosen Adventure Sports Journal not just for gear reviews or race results, but because you sense, like we do, that adventure — when done with intention — is a sacred path. California, we believe, is the global epicenter of Deep Play, a term that speaks to risk, intensity, and the pursuit of meaning.
For us, Stream Entry is both a metaphor and a mission. It’s not a matter of being elite, enlightened, or extreme. It’s a choice — a way to begin again, again and again, as ordinary people committing to extraordinary presence. We walk, run, climb, ride, and paddle toward our own awakening — not because we’re special, but because we’re human. And to be fully human is to step into the stream of life with eyes open and heart bare.
This path is not easy. But it is beautiful. Thank you for walking it with us.
Thanks, and be safe. We hope you enjoy this issue and protect public lands!
— Matt Niswonger
matt@adventuresportsjournal.com