Alpine starts, bear-baiting, & cowboy coffee: the ABCs of climbing (and living) disaster-style

Kids at work ask me all the time where I live. I always point at my little Kelty two-man tent, and they almost never believe me.

“No way, Miss!” they exclaim in a tone of mixed disbelief and curiosity. I must seem almost crazy enough for it to be true. The tents we set up for kids will sleep ten in a pinch; my tiny two-man (which is for one person, really) looks to them far too small to sleep even one adult human. Often, a kid will ask if it’s a tent for dogs. They want to know if I have a TV in there.

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On couples’ yoga, and other things that shouldn’t exist.

Several Valentine’s Days ago, I showed up to my usual Monday night yoga class because I had nothing better to do. I had recently been unceremoniously dumped, all my roommates had dates, and the scheduling gods at my place of employment had seen fit to grant me the night off on the one holiday I’d rather have worked.

Continue reading “On couples’ yoga, and other things that shouldn’t exist.”