Rock Climbing

This past weekend, Joy and I went again to Wisconsin to do a little rock-climbing. Well, I did a little rock climbing, and Joy kept the dog company, which was probably the harder task. We went with a guy I've been painting with who knows all about climbing and has all the gear. We arrived to Devil's Lake on Friday afternoon, did some climbing, camped overnight, and went to the rocks again on Saturday. I've wanted to rock-climb for some time now, and was glad to get the opportunity, especially with someone who won't laugh at me when I get up 3 feet and then say, "Uh, what do I do now?"

On Friday's climb, I went up an easy route, and wondered how on earth the people around me went up straight rock. On Saturday, I was a little more daring and bold, and while you shouldn't look for me on the cover of "Outside" magazine anytime soon, I thought I did pretty well. I felt rugged, that's for sure. Well, until I watched some of the other climbers, and then I felt silly. But it was my first time, I had a good time, and I definitely want to go again. That's what matters, right?