Climbing Finger Rock

Esquire, April, 2000 by Jim Boyer

IN THE DOZEN OR SO YEARS that I have been climbing, my mother has had approximately two things to say about the subject: Don't do it and Oh no you're not. The former might apply to a thousand-foot cliff, the latter to a twenty-thousand-foot peak. Being a good, dependable son, I never listened. Being a good mother, she wasn't surprised. I kept climbing, and after a while she seemed to get used to the idea that I was happiest while hanging off the side of a big chunk of rock. Even so, I never expected to get the kind of messages from her I began receiving via e-mail last spring:

To: Jboy

From: Momboyer

Subject: Mom Boyer's Hardbody Training Camp

Jogged two miles again last night. Even got your little brother to go with me. I've also been doing my...

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