By alpha climber Quinn Harper. I sat with legs wrapped around a tufa half way up the route, choking on smoke, trying to harness the power to make a few more moves, but I tossed and lowered off into the jungle below. I walked out smelling like smoke, frustrated, and humbled. I repeated in my head a new phrase I had been given: “If it doesn’t go to the tick list, at least it will go to the forearms.”
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