Climbing in Finland

I wondered how long the pick might hold with all of my weight on it.
I'd given my precious ice tools more attention than I gave most of my friends.
I felt guilty when the picks rusted or remained blunt after some epic drove me out of the mountains.
I could feel the tools despise me when I ignored them.
I despised them, too, for allowing me to fulfill my obsession.
Often I threw them into the basement as punishment for letting me get in too deep.
On days like today I praised them for their greatness.
I loved them for being good enough to let me push this hard.
Excerpted from Kiss or Kill: Confessions of a Serial Climber by Mark Twight


Ellei toisin ole mainittu, kaikki reitit on liidattu kuvanottopäivänä.

There is NO toprope or nude pictures