Climbing, honestly, is not the thing about which I am most passionate, but it is the thing by which I am most consumed. Another winter has crept silently in, freezing all ambition into things statuesque, objets d’art to be gazed at in wonder, the entirety of autumn one far away idea to be thawed in the spring.

These months could easily be those of last year’s hibernation, or two years ago, or even, if God does exist and he is unkind, a glimpse into the future. With the first snowfall of the season I see myself as having come full circle, ready yet again for hibernation, the cold making me latent. Just over a year ago I arrived back in Boulder, and against the wind I put my head down and sank into a routine of climbing, sleeping, and reading. This year looks to be more of the same, the only difference being that the tilt of my chin is that much more severe, as I desire to climb only higher and sink only lower.

I’m mapping my days out now as far ahead in advance as I’m able, yet I spend most of my hours wanting for something to do. My calendar is a Pollock-splotched mess of gym dates and day trips, small snatches of time I’m ordering on credit from friends, from people, from anyone willing to hold my rope. She only climbs on Tuesdays and Thursdays after 4, and he between shifts at work, and the woman I met last week said she’d want to go to the gym sometime, so I’m calling her to see if she has any time eight days from now, before I leave town to camp at the base of a cliff, the only living thing in the canyon. 

Andrew Tristan Lenec grew up at the foot of one of the East Coast’s most popular climbing destinations, and has still never touched any rock there. He enrolled at the New School University in Manhattan to study Creative Writing before leaving the city and moving to Hawaii, where he eventually received a degree in Music and was discovered by climbing. After spending time in Australia and the Pacific, Andrew moved to Boulder to pursue the sport and in a futile attempt to sate his wanderlust. He is currently an Instructor at ABC Kids Climbing and, when not working with children, can usually be found in one of the city’s many parks with his nose as far in a Kindle as one’s nose can be, because actual printed books are unfortunately too heavy and cumbersome to travel around with constantly.