Emily is the type of girl you want to write a song about. She is like a fresh fall breeze or really bright sunshine after days of clouds. This girl is hopelessly herself. And she doesn’t pretend to hide it. She puts all her insecurities out on the table- we look them over a bit- then suddenly all of mine are sitting there next to hers- then somewhere between the gnarly approach pitches to the Chouinard-Herbert and the 5.11c crux these insecurities have become the sticky stuff that keeps us close. Somewhere before the top I realize that she is evolved. She can make mistakes and not hide them from anyone. She actually admits to them almost right away. Neither of us were quite feeling on our game- the dirty first four pitches that look like they should be fourth class actually feel like 5.9 in places. There are so many different ways to go that your brain gets lost in indecision. At some point we start discussing how we both feel kind of nervous. And she just blurts out, “I just want to impress you.” We had barely climbed together in years, but both of us had improved and decided to make our first climb together a 15 pitch 5.11c Yosemite testpiece. I felt exactly the same way she did, but I’d be hard pressed to actually admit it. But again, she lays it all out on the table and allows our jitters to just melt away. Unfortunately that still didn’t do me much good on the crux. It was hard! Super thin, steep laybacking with micro flaring protection in pin scars that filled all your finger jams. It was a swift reminder of Yosemite ratings. Take them seriously. 
Although we found the A1 option on the Chouinard-Herbert to be quite useful, we are not discouraged. Failure is a key part of success. Actually, I have a hard time calling what we did failure. We climbed a fabulous route on the Sentinal, got down before dark, went for a nightime swim under a bridge, and fell asleep on the dirt satisfied with the limp arms of exhaustion. And I can’t wait to go climbing with Emily again. Astroman, here we come.
