So here I am, 39 years old, and still flogging myself against the rock. It’s been two decades since I first squeezed into climbing shoes; maybe it’s time to take stock on what I’ve gained from clawing my way up all those bolted overhangs?

 I’ve discovered a couple of unique, climbing-related careers: guiding and book publishing. I’ve met some real characters along the way – people who have become close friends due to our mutual passion (obsession?) for climbing. I’ve travelled extensively – far more than I would have as a non-climber, I imagine – which has broadened my horizons, both culturally and intellectually.  And finally, I’ve got a home and family (with a two-year old daughter) that is intertwined in a healthy outdoor lifestyle.

Maybe this “pointless” activity isn’t so pointless after all?