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My first year in Colorado was really wild for me because I was raised in MIchigan which was flat. So when I moved to the mountains and would write to people back home about climbing they all thought I was some sort of Ms. Indiana Jones and it really impressed them. Then my best pal from U of M came out to see me. My then fiancee and I took her and one of the guys from my office up climbing. We were coming back down and I wanted to go down a rough route to see if there was any sign of gemstones in the creekbed that wound down the mountain.
So saying, my sweetie took my pack and the others proceeded down the hill to wait for me by Clear Creek (yes that lovely stream that Coors toots about getting their water from).
Well, the going was a bit rougher than I had anticipated. At one very steep point a vine wound around my ankle and I kept going figuring it would fall away like usual. It didn't - it grabbed me real tight. Trying to extricate myself wound up leaving me hanging upside down by my ankle on an extremely steep incline.
By this time everyone was sitting by the creek watching me, eating all the snacks in my pack - the pack that contained my knife - and snapping a few pics of Ms. Indiana Jones in her latest adventure as captive to a possibly human eating plant and having a very good laugh amongst themselves.
Well, finally I was able to do a sit up to get into a position where I could free myself - which I found to have only one means to achieve - I had to chew the vine away from my ankle. When it let go I rolled. I rolled a good ways down -- right through a whole bunch of nice blossomy cactus plants. Not sure which smarted more - the cactus needles or my pride.
It's pretty funny now...but it did take until the next time my pal visited me in CO to get over it. By that time I had some expertise and knew exactly what I was doing up there......and exactly how dangerous it could be to attempt to show off when it is Mother Nature at the wheel of the ship!
So who's brave enough to tell THEIR story?
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