Superstitious, sentimental, stupid: put these together and that’s me going back into the mountains to get in shape again. So my first outing had to be perfect and auspicious and just how it used to be five years ago, when… Read More ›
Climbing
Song of my 40s, still life
I can palm the cat’s head in my lap when she’s napping in the morning and it’s still dark — with just candles and Brian Eno playing, sometimes you can’t tell if it’s even on, that’s the thing about ambient… Read More ›
Climbing cocks, steep peaks, dry tools
When I look deep inside myself to remember why I joined the Mountaineers climbing club, the only reason I can come up with is that I’m cocky. It may be a male-thing, too. I had already climbed Mount Rainier, which… Read More ›
Winter’s Playground
Drinking good wine out of paper cups at the Howard Johnson’s in the mountains, the knocking through the wall could be the neighbors signaling Keep it down, or the neighbors knocking each other around, with the bed frame. We decide… Read More ›
Caught between the slide alder and Charybdis
Brad over-estimated my climbing abilities and I didn’t know enough to know I had, too. We got the idea to climb a couple peaks in the Olympic mountains in early November, which is hard because you have about half the… Read More ›
One life lost, climbing
If you believe we have nine lives, I’ve wasted at least one in the mountains. I’m afraid of scuba diving, bicycling, and nearly hurt myself bad playing Pickleball (a form of tennis). But I’ve climbed a few big mountains by… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 