One climbs with the incredible strength and speed of a three-toed sloth on the most difficult grades in the climbing gym, never sweating, never falling, and in total control with every move and breath. Another holds themselves on the steep, overhanging wall with a heel hook and a knee against a tufa hold while topping out on the impossible sloper finish. Yet another climbs frenetically up the wall, racing their own best time and throwing moves nobody’s even humanly capable of, especially at their short stature — a little dynamo rock devil. I’m watching the climbing gods, and they don’t even know it. They don’t recognize themselves as the climbing gods or acknowledge their prowess to any unless complimented, in which case they humbly thank the giver of the kind word and continue their communion with the wall. If you think they’re impressive indoors, you should see them on real rock! I’m in awe of these “ordinary people” and the extraordinary feats they pull off at the crag. The climbing gods are among us. They are us. Remember that. You are a climbing god to someone and you don’t even know it, nor would you acknowledge it if you were told…because you’re a climbing god.
Content Rating PG, for the most part
I try to keep the content of my posts in the PG range (meaning that maybe your 13-year-old should not read it... Just kidding!) - you know, something I could get away with tastefully in the town square without getting lynched, tarred-and-feathered, or hung (and something my mother would NOT wash my mouth out with soap for). As far as what age you have to be to understand some of the subtleties of my humor in writing and/or speaking, well... That may vary. A lot.
