A story sewn from the mountains of Nepal.
Some places introduce themselves quietly.
Nepal didn’t.
For two straight days we hiked through a wall of rain — the kind that shrugs at rain jackets and turns every layer you own into a cold, heavy sponge. The trail was socked in. No views. No mountains. Just the sound of boots sloshing through mud and the feeling that something massive lived above the clouds.
On the third morning, the mountains finally showed their faces.
I stepped outside the tea house, and for the first time, the sky opened. Annapurna South towered over us like a living thing. Machapuchare — the sacred Fishtail peak — cut the sky in half. The whole valley glowed. And right then, everything about this collection made sense.
This is the story behind the Sacred Peaks Collection.

It Started in Peru
This collaboration didn’t begin in Nepal.
It started a year earlier, halfway across the world, on the Inca Trail in Peru.
I joined a Travel World Culture group trip led by Grace Donner, and we were promoting the Chuku Brimmer — “chuku” meaning hat in Quechua. That trip shifted something for me. The history, the energy, the way Jess and Gavin (founders of TWC) crafted an experience… it hit deep.
On the trail to Machu Picchu, conversations started about the idea of doing something together. Jess and Gavin mentioned people on their trips had asked for merch. The idea stuck.
And by the end of that week, something was already forming:
What if we told the next story together?

Why Travel World Culture
The choice felt natural.
Their business model is our mission:
break down barriers, make adventure accessible, create community, and do it in a way that leaves a positive footprint.
On top of that, the way they plan trips is unreal. Remote corners of developing countries, moving 10+ people through chaos with ease. You trust them without even realizing you’ve made that decision.
One moment summed it up:
My birthday landed on the trek. I didn’t tell anyone. Never planned to. The only clue was my passport photo I submitted weeks before.
But somehow Gavin showed up with a full birthday cake in the middle of the Himalayas.
That’s who they are.
That’s why this collaboration felt right.

Why We Named It “Sacred Peaks”
We chose the name months before stepping foot in Nepal.
I trusted Jess and Gavin — they’d done this trek multiple times — but I didn’t fully understand it until we arrived.
Nepal is not just a place.
It’s a presence.
Many of the peaks in the Annapurna region are considered sacred. Machapuchare — the Fishtail — is legally off-limits to climbing out of respect for its spiritual significance. No human has ever stood on its summit. It remains untouched.
Some places are simply greater than us.
This was one of them.

Nepal’s Energy
Everywhere you go, something reminds you how big the world really is.
Prayer flags — Lung-ta — stretch across ridgelines and temples, red, blue, yellow, white, green, always in that order. Symbols of fire, sky, earth, air, water. Hung so the wind can carry blessings across the valley.
Monasteries tucked into hillsides.
The monkey temple overlooking Kathmandu.
Singing bowls humming through your bones.
A culture where mountains aren’t scenery — they’re gods.
It didn’t just feel spiritual.
It felt alive.

The Trek — Six Days Into the Heart of the Annapurna Range
The first two days nearly broke us.
Rain. Relentless, unforgiving rain.
Everything was soaked.
Clothes. Packs. Morale.
The only warmth came from tea houses — simple rooms with metal roofs, thick blankets, and just enough heat to pull you back to life.
But the people made it something special.
A mix of familiar faces from Peru and total strangers who became friends fast.
Card games every night.
Laughs echoing through thin wooden walls.
Dinners in Kathmandu before the trek.
Stories shared on the trail.
Our guides taught us “Jam Jam,” meaning “let’s go.”
Matt bonded so tightly with one guide that he earned the nickname “Santi,” meaning friend.
And once the mountains revealed themselves, something shifted in the group.
It felt like we were part of something much bigger.
Later that afternoon — with the peaks finally in full view — we arrived at a village with a makeshift volleyball court: a net tied between two sticks, dirt for a floor. The porters challenged us. They smoked us in the first game. We got one win back, but realistically… they let us.
The mountains were the backdrop.
The people were the story.

The Moment Everything Changed
At Annapurna Base Camp (13,500+ ft), I wandered off to what I thought was a small ridge. It wasn’t. It was a 400-foot lateral moraine carved by the glacier.
I could hear it move.
Low groans.
Rocks shifting.
Water running somewhere deep under the ice.
It felt like the mountain was breathing.
Sacred is the only word that fits.

Building the Collection
Before Nepal, we tried multiple ideas — including colorways inspired by prayer flags — but nothing felt right. Too loud. Not the story we wanted to tell.
So we reset. Fresh slate.
That’s when maroon and gold entered the conversation.
These are the colors worn by Tibetan Buddhist monks — grounded, warm, calm, and deeply tied to the region. The second we put them together, it felt like the right direction.
From there, we built a print that pulled from everything around us — not fully custom, but intentionally chosen. A print that would never appear on another brand’s gear.
A small nod to the uniqueness of the place.

The Pattern — The Story in the Details
Look closely:
Trails carving through mountains.
Ridges rising like the valley walls.
Tree lines dissolving into peaks.
Textures that feel like jungle paths, riverbeds, and snowfields.
A six-day journey, woven into fleece.
And the logo?
We merged the TWC mark with the Outpst wordmark, wrapped in maroon and gold.
A collaboration in its truest form — equal parts both brands.
This isn’t merch.
It’s memory.

Built for Expeditions
Everything in this collection is designed for places like this:
Long miles.
Rain.
Tea houses.
Cold mornings.
Heavy terrain.
Days where you go from jungle to snow in the same breath.
These products aren’t souvenirs.
They’re gear meant to move — on treks, trails, summits, expeditions, and everything in between.

Why This Drop Matters
Outpst started as me sewing hats in Aspen.
But somewhere along the way, it turned into storytelling — using products to carry experiences, communities, and places that matter.
This story hits deeper.
It’s shaped by culture, connection, weather, discomfort, and the kind of mountains that remind you how small and how lucky you are.
My hope is that when you wear something from the Sacred Peaks Collection, you feel a piece of what we felt in that valley.
Part of something bigger.
Part of something ancient.
Part of a place that doesn’t need to be climbed to be understood.

Sunrise at Annapurna
On the final morning, the face of Annapurna I caught fire with first light. Gold spilling down a wall of ice. Everyone standing silent — not because anyone called for quiet, but because nothing else made sense.
Some stories can’t be told.
So we sew them instead.
The Sacred Peaks Collection