(courtesy Ryan's photo stitching skills)
So yeah. There's been a distinct lack of adventuring around these parts. Seeing as how we decided to replace adventuring with injuring. Between my snowboard jumping tailbone crack and Ryan's hyperextended knee, both in June and then my ankle ligament tear in July...and re-tear in October, we're been a little more on heal mode than usual. If you have the chance, I highly recommend totally eating it at a club in Hollywood in front of an entire hotel staff who assumes you're a hapless drunk and doesn't help you up. It's totally the best. A spectacle that could only be rivaled by eating it a second time on the marble lobby of your giant corporate office building where a Vice President has to ever so kindly peel you off the ground while you pretend not to cry. Look out corporate ladder, I'm starting that climb!
Anyway, it (sort of?) worked out because there had been an unspoken battle going on between Ryan and I ever since the Mt. Whitney lottery results were announced a few months back. We didn't get a spot, but friends did - and they only had room for one more person. It was up to us who wanted to go, and with Ryan's knee healed and my ankle in rough shape, I lost out. He climbed Whitney, on his birthday no less, and I partied for my sisters 40th so, really it was a win with injuries solving all our tricky choices for us. No bloodshed, poison, or locking in closets necessary.
So, onto the official shout out - Congratulations on the ascent with no loss of life or limb, through rain, hail, snow...and wag bags. I hear those are the best.
(Summit Crew..."Challenge the rock!")
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