I think D & I each climbed Squam Rock for the first time when we were about 20. A landmark in the ancient village of his sweet granny & the ancestral hometown of his great-great-great-great grandfather, it's a landmark in the lives of all the locals who grow up here. They scale it at different ages, under different circumstances, but always before a dip in the Atlantic. I have fond memories of our best friend clinging to the rock at 30 years old, & about 14 feet up, while his wife mouthed to me, "I'm going to kill your husband."
He made it down, eventually, & we all cheered. The rock itself is about 40 feet high, & those first 20 are nothing but steep granite without any clear toeholds. I'm not a good climber, but I've done some hairy advanced climbs because my older brother used to drive me to gorgeous spots & hand me a helmet, ropes, caribeaners, & eventually crazy-looking contraptions known as zippers. They were all wires & gears, 5 inches big, but somehow made to hold us up. I didn't know any better & followed him up. I only learned one climbing skill that I can remember - if you have a toehold, then the climbing is all in your legs, not your arms. You step on it, bend your knees, & leverage yourself up to the next toehold, using your hands to study the rock.
So when our 4 & 8 year-olds said they wanted to try, I figured, okay, I'll just sit here & they can throw themselves against the wall for a bit. And for about 10 minutes they did. Then Lake began to figure it out. D went into papa-bear mode to catch him & I quickly jumped up to bring him down. Not to be outdone by his baby brother...Well, let's just say that there's much to be said about a healthy dose of sibling rivalry...
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