Dirty Thirty

As of next Tuesday I have played on this planet for three decades

I am told I should get dirty for my thirty, but that no longer appeals to me

Routes are on my mind almost all of the time while I work my daily grind

Cracks want my protection; slabs want my feet; and crags want my gear

The rubber continues to wear while I suffer and diligently strive to be tougher

Fear is a companion who is constantly near, whispering “You can’t” in my ear

Life lessons learned on the rock help me stop focusing on the tick tock of my biological clock

Each time I fall I have to make the choice to give up, or crawl back up the wall

A clean send is what we want in the end, yet I grow more from the lines that do not bend

What this sport has taught this humbled cosmonaut is that I am just another speck of dust on our shared pale blue dot

Material possessions and consumer obsessions are no longer passions

Instead I look ahead to the next destination where I will find excellent rock overhead

Balancing a sport with the rest of life is challenging, but in the end it is extremely rewarding

The enormous amount of time I use to climb has made me feel more alive

When I reflect on these thirty years there is no regret, since those experiences have led me to my lifelong project

Climbing has removed all desires for anything else. A profound and unconditional love for our natural world is all that remains. Cheers.

All my love,

Laron