Dawn Patrol

(Using the night to get more day--Bugaboos.)

My good friend Steve is no stranger to F.O.M.O.--Fear Of Missing Out. It's a known killer of men below 65 and when he gets to feeling particularly behind the training curve he'll lament, "while I'm sleeping, they're getting strong." "They" could be the next V12 grommet, the off-the-couch savant who does the Nose-in-a-Day, or the low-key East Siders who treat the Incredible Hulk like a mere crag. Not to be left out or behind, he's heading into the Gorge several days a week--before teaching!--to run laps on 5.11s and 12s that he's got in the bag. Just as folks are dropping into the Central Gorge he's on his way out having logged a respectable afternoon's worth of routes.

(Jon Baum going third-class on Bugaboo Spire.)

Feeling some mighty F.O.M.O. of my own I've started dawn patrolling in the spirit of Alex Lowe. Lowe's infectious energy, drive, work ethic and caffeine consumption are the things of legend. My dawn patrol--hangboarding or doing yoga from 5-6 am; bike commuting to school--is building toward the alpine ideal of going higher, lighter, and faster.

(Room 122 where I like to think I model a way of living as much as I model sentence trees.)