“At 11 a.m. this morning my (non-climbing) plans for the day fell apart. I suddenly had five hours of daylight but no objective or partner. “Perfect,” I thought, “a chance to wrestle with the art of climbing firsthand. An opportunity to forgo a rope in search of focus, to see what I can learn from the experience.
Three hours later and 200 feet off the ground, the ice reared cold and ruthless in my face. One pick felt rattly, the other was surrounded by white, fractured ice. My feet were good, but a bulge forced me off balance “What the fuck am I doing?” I thought as my hands started to ache. “I’m no soloist. This shit will get me killed.”…. Read the rest here