Gobble the little red pills, and climb on…

Another sunny morning, but with the threat of afternoons storms. But while we pack for one of the big classics of the Orco valley, I’m given to thinking that climbing here is slowly killing us. It’s like a fast operating degenerative disease. Everything is beginning to ache, our hands are getting that strange swelling from too many days on rock, shoulders and elbows are inflamed, the cuts and grazes of abrasive granite are healing only to be opened up again. Both Jude and I are now on the anti-inflammatories in a bid to extend our bodies’ ability to see out this trip, and if there were a stronger drug that would give me new arms, I’d take it.

But the fact is that we can’t stop. The climbing is too good. Every route we get on is world class, from the 6b wall crack of Cochise to the outrageous 7b/c column of Stop Press, and the list of must do’s keeps growing. It’s become onerous. How the hell are we going to climb everything we need to climb as our days here decrease? We can’t. We can only gobble the little red pills, and climb on…

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