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I think I’m starting to figure out how to live up here in Canada. It takes a little adjusting not being able to go rock climbing 10 months out of the year. But I’m learning to love the Vsion climbing gym and just starting to understand the strange sport of dry tooling. Majka and Sarah were up from the states doing a writing workshop in Banff so they dragged Sarah H and I out for a day of dry-tooling as the ice was not in great condition yet.

Apparently Sarah mentioned that she was going dry-tooling with a bunch of girls while climbing in the gym the night before. As girls going dry-tooling is far less common than girls climbing in Indian Creek, there was a lot of jostling between the boys to come along. Somehow, though, we remained on our own. Which was good. Cause we never would have had those conversations about peeing or pleasuring oneself when the other half’s not around or the gentle teasing of male mountain guides. Really there is a time and a place for women to gather alone. And why not while climbing rock with lots of sharp points attached to our appendages?

While Sarah H showed us how its done and Majka went for it on heady leads, I bitched at how strange a sport this is as I continued to break holds with my tools. I decided not to lead anything- other than the five feet to move the top rope. Today was my day to be a gumby. And I did a great job. My pants exposed my bare ankles as I popped tools and skidded crampons. I hobbled around for a while with one crampon on to the delight of my comrades. I really felt like I could be my silly old self for a while while hanging upside down on overhanging rock. And somehow between the girlish giggling, the womanly sending, and my goofball antics, I realized I might just like living here in Canmore.

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