We packed all gear and put it in the car. We picked up our friends and went the store. We bought some groceries and we drove for an hour. We stopped for gas. We stopped for snacks. We stopped for a coffee and then we drove some more.
We pulled down a gravel road, parked the car, and unloaded our gear. Backpacks on harnesses hanging from hands, we hiked a short mile with smiles and plans. Got to the crag, dropped all our stuff, looked up the wall and picked out a route. Slipped into the routine of knots and velcro shoes, clung to the wall and clipped up it too.
The sun sunk in the sky. The wall turned cold, the shadows stretched, so we packed up our stuff and left. Drove into town and then right past. Up another gravel road one covered in grass. Wound through the forest and next to the river, found the big slab and shut off the car in a quiver.
Open the hatch. Pull out your pack. Grab a bag and a cooler hand. Hike into the woods and over some logs, tip toe on rocks and blocks and muddy spots. Wind some more and then unwind back, come to a clearing and release your pack. Unload your tent and shake it out, set it up and zip it up. Build a fire, stand proud, pour your heart out, summer's finally come around.