I’ve been noticing a dangerous trend recently – I’ve been thinking about climbing. Sure this sounds all sweet and innocent, what could be wrong with thinking about climbing? I’ll tell you what. I’ve been thinking about climbing at times when I should have been thinking about mountain biking. I’ll give you an example: this past Friday as I was driving to Aspen for the aforementioned hut trip, I found myself staring wistfully at the mountains around me. Did I think “wow, I bet there is some kick ass mountain biking around here”? No, not at all. Instead I said to myself “you know, that might be fun to climb”. It gets worse, much worse in fact. This past weekend was one of the best I’ve had in a while, and when I woke up to a beautiful Sunday morning I knew that the perfect cap to the weekend would be to get out and ride. I’m sitting at home going through my coffee ritual and thinking about my day, when out of the blue Temptation calls. In this particular instance Temptation came in the form of an invite from my friend RJ to go climbing in Boulder Canyon.
I’ll get back to my rant in a moment, but I’d like to take a second here to say Temptation, RJ is cool but the next time you decide to come my way I would REALLY appreciate it if you take the form of a young female type. Enough said, back to the story.
To continue, what did I do? I went climbing of course. Sure I could say I had never been climbing outdoors before and I was really looking forward to trying it. I could say that my friends are cool, and I wanted to hang out with them. I guess I could even try to write climbing off as the flavor of the month – god knows I’m fickle enough (um, just for the record if any of the young female types do read this I’m just kidding about the fickle thing. Really). The thing is when you get right down to it the reason really doesn’t matter – I’ve still been choosing climbing over the bike. I feel ashamed. I feel dirty. I kind of like it.
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