Wishful adventurer, bad climber, & writer of unedited poetry. A blog candidly exploring mental health, veganism, & the tiny things that make life worth living.
It ended up being so, so, magical as we finished the climb literally in the clouds. I ended up forgoing the rope for the last pitch as it was a scramble and we then decided that after topping out we just had to hike those extra five minutes to the summit stones.
We finally made it outside in the scorching heat and I felt at home.
One of the reasons I love photography is that snapshot of a moment. But the reason I love video (more?) is that it so easily captures that exact memory that would have otherwise been warped as layer upon layer of new experience comes at you.
Less with a bang.
More with a soft, rediscovery of a platform I’m wanting to explore in a different way than before.
So I managed to lead one and a half routes.
Wait, one and a half?
I spent the next 4 days limping.
But I can’t tell you how good it feels to have reached the top.
Things I learned in Fontainebleau:
I am not good at bouldering.
I have a hilarious bouldering face.
I am really not good at bouldering.
I can’t even believe that a few weeks ago we were able to go out bouldering, able to play around in the sunshine without freezing our fingers off. (I’m still a little scared of falling, FYI).
After months of (ongoing!) ankle recovery at indoor walls, we’ve navigated our way around the snowy Spring days and managed to find ourselves some time in the sun; time to finally test out the mountain of gear we have stashed away.
I can barely believe that back in August I was told there was a 90% chance my BONE WOULD DIE and I’d likely have fusion surgery and it would be all dramatic and terrifying and I wouldn’t walk again and my whole life would change.
