Pedestrian Bridge
Photo: Cooper Baker

The last few months have been a tedious struggle to get back on my feet, emotionally and physically. With my body partly broken, and no financial stability whatsoever, I was forced to invest my time into things other than climbing for the first time in years. I  spent time in the water, running trails and working. I realized that in order to get my life to stabilize it’s going to require growing the fuck up.

I’ve never struggled to regain control of my life like this. It’s always been easy for me to come back and put in a few hard weeks and be back on my feet. It didn’t work this time. Every month I check my bank account thinking this will be the month, but on the 12th it’s always back at zero.

I fought with everything I had to stay positive and disciplined through my final semester of college. The burden was heavy, and I started questioning and doubting.

What do I want? Will I regret this? Should I go back into a career? Should I further my education? Should I piss into the wind? What am I doing?

The bills continue to trickle in, and each day that passes is one closer to student loan payments. My boat is barely afloat, and that added weight will surely sink it.

A good friend who I’ve known for years has been doing a lot of talking about me getting a little bit more serious about working with him. We’ve talked about my investing full attention towards the tree industry, and starting my own business. The idea has been growing on me. Hell, it’s the best option I have.

We can work together and we can both prosper. I’m almost completely sold. I’ve been brainstorming business names, and I’ve been plotting the best approach for transitioning into a new set of trades. It won’t be easy, but the good things never are. We’ve talked about what I need to do to make it happen. I was all about it.

But then, last week my climbing partner in Wyoming contacted me. He said he was in Moab, that he had sold his car and smashed his phone, but that he is on his way to Southern California; stopping first in Joshua Tree and then San Diego.

The plans and the career and the stability and the future quickly forgotten. Like a drug addict tasting a bitter drip off the tip of a syringe there is only one thing I can think about. My mind spins a web of tactics aimed towards procuring enough funds to pay off all my bills and abandon my life for an extended stay in the desert.

Will the future wait? It’s going to have to.

What do I want? Will I regret this? Should I go back into a career? Should I further my education? Should I piss into the wind? What am I doing?

I don’t know, and I think that’s why I need to go back down the rabbit hole–not to find out, but to forget.



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