This day in age, I don’t have to tell you what today is. You know. It’s everywhere. There’s no escaping. Who knows which fresh, new horrors (or excitement) this day might bring? I’m not sure. But like every year, I have a sonnet for you. Try not to blush during my rendition of Shakespeare’s Sonnet XCI:
Sonnet 9.1mm
Some glory in their gear, some in their skill,
Some in their grades, some in their body’s force,
Some in their belay devices though new-fangled ill;
Some in their certs and tags, some in their NOLS course;
And every vibe hath their quirky pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:
But these particulars are not my measure,
All these I better in one general best.
Thy belay is better than a trad rack to me,
Stronger than grades, finer than the next GRIGRI cast,
Of more intrigue than certs and tags be;
And having thee, of all climbers’ pride I proclaim, steadfast:
Wretched sending alone, that thou mayst take
All slack away, and me most wretched make.
What do you love most about your belay partner? What would happen if they left you to boulder?
Co-writer
thedihedral.com 