Fresh Air: Climbing in Montana

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I follow the footsteps ahead of me, wandering up the rock garden of an approach to Bear Canyon, my legs whining as we walk all of a half mile uphill to the crag. I curse my present lack of athleticism, and continue wheezing my way up the trail.

God I need to go for a freaking run once and a while. 


The slab is beautiful, half-lit by the sun that wanders up the canyon as it sets. My muscles and my mind reawaken, moving fluidly from pocket to pocket up the sandstone. Up and over, above the anchors, I grab a seat and take in my first climb in fresh air in far too long.

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