The Out
There Club.

Writing no brand will fund.

Hi, I’m Bryce. I write about what I find out there — on the washboard gravel above the Arctic Circle, on the shoulder of a New Zealand highway with my thumb out, in the parking lots where a stranger will tell you the true thing before you’ve traded names. Some of it is travel. A lot of it is grief, faith, and doubt, the things people carry quietly.

Above the Arctic Circle.

That writing has no sponsor, and it won’t get one. No brand wants its logo under a letter about my brother, or about the God I keep running into in places I’d never have chosen. I understand. It isn’t their job to fund it.

The Out There Club is the small group of people who fund it instead, so the work keeps going out, and stays open to everyone.

Where it goes

What your $7 keeps open.

The Wednesday letter. A dispatch every week to anyone who asks for it. No charge, no tier.
The captions. Short essays that sit underneath photographs, about grief and faith and the things people don’t say out loud. They’ve reached hundreds of millions of people, most of whom would never open a book about grief or walk through a church door.
The guides. Every Out There guide is name-your-price, including zero, so nobody gets to say they didn’t know how to go.
The road. Gas, tires, ferry tickets, film. The miles the writing comes from.

None of it sits behind a wall. Members are the reason it doesn’t have to.

What members get.

The Long Letter. One longer letter a month — the work that doesn’t fit under a photograph.
Pages. The running journal from wherever I am.
The archive. Full access to the Long Letter and Pages, back to the first one.

Checkout is here on Gumroad. The writing itself lives at brycercampbell.com/otc — after you join, I’ll set you up there by hand.

Join the ClubMembership

The Out There Club

$7a month

A handful of people cover the cost, and the work goes out to everyone. That’s the whole arrangement.

Join the Club

Cancel anytime, no questions. And if money is the thing stopping you, email hello@brycectravels.com and I’ll just give it to you.

A man sitting on the open tailgate of a truck in an empty field at dusk.

The miles the writing comes from.

What happens next

Joining is the commitment. Checkout happens here; access lives on brycercampbell.com. Watch your inbox — I’ll write you directly and set you up by hand. It may take a day; I’m sometimes out of cell service, which is sort of the point.

The work

Thank you for carrying it.

I started driving because I’d lost more than I knew what to do with, and I thought the road would fix it. It didn’t. What it gave me instead was quieter and harder to name, and it was never meant to stop with me. That’s the work.

See you out there.