y son Colby has had a desire to get into rock climbing for more than half his life. My wife and I took him to a climbing gym back when he was in middle school, hoping he’d have a little fun, but then be able to say he’d done it, and then forget about it. But that trip to the climbing wall only reinforced his desire to scale vertical surfaces.
He built himself several finger-grip pull-up boards to strengthen his grip and work his climbing muscles, and he’s never stopped badgering us to get him out to do some actual climbing.
The trouble is, we don’t have many options near where we live to learn to climb. Well, not to learn to climb safely, that is. We could traipse out to Vedauwoo and give it a shot, but we’d probably end up as a quartet of grease spots on the ground underneath those world-famous climbing routes.
It’s much safer to learn to belay, practice with the equipment, and discover the correct ways to ascend a vertical slope in a controlled environment, like a climbing gym. We went to climbing gyms when we could, but Colby wanted us to go more often.
When we did go to the climbing gyms, sometimes I climbed with them, but most of the time I just sat and waited for them to get tired. But recently I went with both boys, and they’re a lot more advanced now, so they got me to do some cooler climbing stuff. Big mistake.
Now I’m addicted. I’m more than a half-century old now, and suddenly I’m thinking about buying my own gear so I can go more places. Pretty soon, I’ll be shelling out thousands of dollars for climbing gear so I can tackle Vedauwoo.
If I get serious about this, I might need to sell a kidney.
