I had many mailings waiting for me at two of my Wyoming domiciles (Ken's place,
parent's place!). In particular, I was excited to get my first ever set of
prints.
Over the next
The stars traced long arcs
The coyotes howled in the dark
And the spirits came out to play.
Between great granite stones
Haunted by the wind's quiet moans
Went we, somewhere ne'er touched
It's hard to keep track of all the things I do that aren't climbing, but luckily
I take lots of pictures to remind me. Here's some that I missed from my rest
days
At one point I turned to Ken Hilton and whispered
> "Who the fuck is this guy?"
"I know, right?" the Hiltonator responds with raised eyebrows and a shrug that
brings his hands in
I spent a whole lot of time healing this year, which doesn't make for the most
interesting posts. Still, I've spent the time with good people, and every now
and then snapped a