It was one of those important moments in life, one which becomes defining and should be accompanied by the appropriate crescendo of movie-theme music.
As I sipped my morning coffee, the realization hit me. Today’s adventure may seriously injure or kill me. In that case, I should have had a second piece of chocolate cake last night.
While I was doing a poor job of hiding my fear, Mark awoke ecstatic. We were heading out to Zoar Valley for the day to join a bunch of his friends for some ice climbing. Mark loves ice climbing. He loves ice climbing the way I love pancakes after a four-hour hilly bike ride. We’re talking serious passion here. And it was something I definitely was interested in trying.
But the details were slightly frightening.
I have had one previous climbing experience, in the protected environment of a climbing gym. After my instructional lesson,