"Tickled" is the only way to describe it.

I have two-year old son, and one of my favorite things in this world is tickling him. His laugh is adorable, and the joy in his laughter is unmistakable. It is the kind of innocent, head-tossed-back, happy-to-be-alive-in-this-exact-time-and-place, sound that comes out of us with less and less frequency as we age. An "I-do-not-care-who-sees-or-hears" joy that cannot possibly be self-aware. I tell you this because as I briefly sat alone at the top of Gill's Buttress last night, the sun low on the western horizon, the valley below lit as if from within by the late-evening glow, I felt this feeling. I did not laugh out loud, but I felt tickled.

I had just climbed Peyote Blues (5.12b). While a thirty-four year old dude, climbing a 5.12b top rope problem is hardly noteworthy on anything more than a personal level, I was psyched! As I write this, less than twenty-four hours later, I am still pretty psyched - and I think that is why I climb...to be, well, tickled.

Anyway these recent successes have really motivated me to make a commitment to a long term project. From here on out it will be an all out effort to send Whiskey a Go-Go (5.13a) at Necedah. I am expecting to spend the next several months working on it, and getting to know it intimately. I cannot wait to begin the process.

Working Peyote Blues on 8-17-14 - Photo by Brittany