6:00 p.m.: 30 minutes ‘til I depart for the ‘Dacks. I briefly survey the disaster that is my bedspread from behind my laptop screen, and decide that I should probably start packing. Reaching to grab the cord to plug in my MacBook, I realize with a start that I can barely see it over the volume of clothing, food and gear that litters my floor and bed.

“Now if everyone would please, put their Nalgene as high as they can … Man, I love hiking, ay! I love camping, ay! I love hiking, ay! I love Odyssey, ay!”

WHAM! I touch back down to the rocky trail front tire first, correcting my balance just in time to avoid going over my handlebars head-over-heals.

“Any questions?” Keith returns the cap to the Dry Erase marker, looking up from the large notepad for the first time in minutes.

Rock climbing has historically had one golden rule: The leader must not fall. EVER.

It was pitch black out, even though the sun had barely set beyond the distant mountains. Dense cloud cover and even denser evergreens obscured the weak light of the quarter moon, making it nearly impossible to find secure footing on the slick rocks that studded the muddy trail.