Fun time
Laughter is the Best Medicine I
Annual Gathering of the Mountain Climbing Community!
Ladies and Gentlemen, Fellow Mountain Goats, and Those Who Just Came for the Snacks,
Welcome, welcome, welcome to our annual gathering of the mountain climbing community! Or as I like to call it, the one time of year we voluntarily come down from the mountains to talk about how much we love going up them. Isn’t it ironic? We spend 364 days a year climbing away from society, only to spend one day a year talking about how much we miss it. Ah, the contradictions of a mountaineer!
Let’s give a round of applause for our newbies! You know who you are. The ones who still think “carabiner” is a type of exotic fruit and that “belay” is a French dessert. Don’t worry, soon you’ll be fluent in our unique language. If you can survive your first blister, you can survive anything!
Speaking of survival, I want to address the elephant in the room. No, not the metaphorical one — I’m talking about the actual elephant in the room. Greg, why did you bring an inflatable elephant to a mountain climbing event? It’s not even the strangest thing he’s packed, folks. Last year he brought a toaster because he couldn’t “bear” the thought of climbing without toasted bagels. True story.
You know you’re a mountaineer when you have more pictures of mountains than of your family. When your idea of a hot date is a 5 a.m.
And who could forget the gear? Oh, the gear. My spouse once told me, “It’s either me or the gear.” I miss her sometimes, but my gear and I are very happy together. We’ve been through a lot: storms, avalanches, a close encounter with a very territorial goat — we’re basically inseparable. And besides, my crampons never complain about my snoring.
But let’s get serious for a moment — and by serious, I mean seriously ridiculous. Have you ever noticed how we measure our worth by how much suffering we can endure? “Oh, you lost three toenails on that climb? Pfft, I lost four!” And we wear these injuries like badges of honor. Somewhere along the way, pain became our best friend. I mean, who needs comfort when you have the thrill of potentially falling off a cliff?
And then there’s the food. Mountain food is its own special category. Freeze-dried everything. I once saw a guy so desperate for real food, he tried to rehydrate a steak. Spoiler alert: it didn’t end well. But hey, if you can stomach freeze-dried spaghetti, you can stomach anything.
Now, let’s talk about the best part of climbing — the descent. The glorious moment when you realize you’ve made it to the top, taken the obligatory selfie, and now you have to figure out how to get back down without tumbling like an avalanche. I call it the controlled fall. It’s the part where your legs feel like jelly, your knees are screaming, and your mind is filled with thoughts like, “Why did I think this was a good idea?” But then you make it, you survive, and all you can think about is when you’ll do it again.
In closing, I want to thank each and every one of you for being here, for sharing your stories, your laughs, and your questionable climbing tips. Remember, it’s not about how many mountains you’ve climbed, but about how many stories you can tell about almost dying while climbing those mountains. And if you’ve never almost died, well, you’re just not doing it right.
Here’s to the scrapes, the bruises, the blisters, and the breathtaking views. Here’s to the thrill of the climb, the joy of the summit, and the camaraderie of the descent. Let’s raise our freeze-dried meals and toast to the best group of slightly insane, incredibly brave, and wonderfully adventurous people I know. Cheers!
Now, who’s ready to plan the next climb? Just remember to leave the inflatable elephant at home, Greg.
Thank you and happy climbing!
