As I gently brush my hands off, intent on approaching a new problem in an unknown gym, the clutter of random holds and neon tape sends me spiraling down memory lane...

This journey into the psyche of a climber began 3,000 miles away, on the east coast, when I was nineteen. A short time after being introduced to bouldering, I was fortunate to realize the most incredible aspect of the sport - its absolute ability to elevate past the importance of winners and losers and zero in on personal rewards, friendships and mind-altering experiences. I was positive that anyone who "climbed" must've known exactly what was feeling. Sure, sometimes it seemed like roped climbers and boulderers only co-existed peacefully due to a cease-fire in pride and attitude, but in reality we shared a common thread: we were part of a community that created a rare, underlying camaraderie between perfect strangers. That's when I began to consider anyone who accepted this lifestyle to be part of my family.

Returning from my trip down memory lane, I awake with my body in a sit start position. This route setting is way different than what I am used to, but that's okay... it's a nice challenge. I live here now, and besides, a few people just introduced themselves to me. Based on what I've learned, I have no doubt that everything will turn out just fine.

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NAME
ADDRESS
ADDRESS 2
CITY
STATE & ZIP
EMAIL (req)