“Ok Bria, I might actually fall on this pitch” I say as I unclip from the anchor. “I am with you” she replies, looking down…
Category: The Inner Workings
Short, potentially scary, insights as to what goes on in my brain.
Blades of purple peaks, like the backs of lumbering dinosaurs, break the horizon, giving perspective to an immense flatness. Wind barrels across the nothingness, faster…
I used to think I wanted to be an artist. To me an artist had always been one who painted, drew or sculpted. In those…
It is the best of times, it is the worst of times, it is the age of wisdom, it is the age of foolishness, it…
1 December 2015–It is my time. Over the years it has always been the same. Never secretive, but usually alone. It just feels better that…
18 September 2015–Aahh the feelings of inadequacy that come with not being able to send the project. Not good enough. Wanting it too bad. People…
23 August 2016 “I need to get you to sign some paperwork before I leave” he says. He is sitting on the counter in the…
Read the PostTurning of the Page (on being a NOLS Instructor part X)
Damn her. Damn her for putting ideas in my head, ideas that had never crossed my mind. I was content to do what I do. …
Read the PostRuts and Roller Coasters (on being a NOLS instructor part IX)
As with so many of my vertically inclined endeavors, this one seemed doubtful from the start. It was to be a short afternoon of clipping…
It started the same way and ended the same way. Driving in, the road was still rough. Walking out the beers were still in the…
Doubt, fear’s twin brother, confidently raised it’s beastly head today. It came as I stared upward at the imposing chimneys. It was there again as…
“I can’t get all this stuff into my pack.” Whether the first day, the second, or the day after a ten day re-ration, the comment…
“Wow, that was the best pitch yet” Liz exclaims as she mantles onto to the white, rounded sandstone at the top of a varnished finger…