A good week of local climbing

Last week at this time I was on my way home from Mt. Rainier and about to leave for 3 days of climbing in Squamish with friends from Western. Altogether it was a great week of climbing but it left me with some thoughts that I'll pass on if you've got the time...
We left for Rainier on Friday morning and hiked up to Camp Muir at 10,000 ft. The snow and fog started right at the parking lot and didn't let up until we were 50 yards from camp. The whole hike had the surreal feeling of being on some kind of mountain treadmill with the wind and fog blowing past as we couldn't see anything around us. The weather was great that night and we went to bed with plans of moving camp up to Ingraham Flats at 11,000 ft. the next morning. The weather had other ideas and we sat in camp all day Saturday as the wind and rain/snow blew like crazy. Several teams who had tried to summit that morning crawled back to camp throughout the day wet and looking pretty defeated. No one we talked to had summited. Saturday afternoon we moved into the shelters there at Camp Muir (which are like mountain side paradise resorts compared to sitting in a tent) and waited for the weather to break. I went to sleep around 5:30pm with the wind blowing as hard as ever and the snow screaming sideways past the doors. When we woke at 11 pm there were only hints of wind, and the stars were out in impressive fashion. It was smooth sailing from there and we summited around 8 am. I think we were one of the slower teams on the mountain that day but I loved the pace. I felt rested almost the whole trip up and didn't start to really feel the elevation until about 13,500 ft. We spent almost an hour at the top and then made our way back to camp, packed up, headed back to the car, ate dinner in Ashford, and finally got home close to 9pm on Sunday.

The next day Kim and I headed to Bellingham. Kim stayed with friends there for the week and I continued up to Squamish, BC for 3 days of rock climbing with Art, Jon, Hunter, and Garrett, 4 amazing men I lived with in college. The climbing was great. I had only done a few crack climbs before in my life but we did a bunch of classic Squamish cracks and I loved it. My hands have scabs all over them now and I'm doing my best not to pick at them. In addition to the climbing, the company was USDA certified grade-A.
All in all it was a splendid week of climbing.
After a week of different types of climbing with different people, I think I'm slowly starting to understand my own love of the outdoors and where it comes from. I don't particularly enjoy doing things just because they are difficult. Several of my friends, who have abilities and endurance far beyond my own, climb for the challenge and aren't as interested in doing a hike or climb that is not exceedingly challenging. I'm realizing that location and significance matter more to me than technical skills and if the route is hard, that's ok. If the route is easy, that's ok too. What means most to me is experiencing up close the beauty that I see every day from the places I live and visit. The Rainier climb was so powerful because I saw in new ways the mountain that I see everyday from Tacoma. The glaciers cracking and crumbling have a different kind of power up close than they do from 75 miles away. Brown and gray smudges become towering rock faces up close. Climbing in Squamish lets you feel and work with the rock that surrounds you when you're in the valley. I love my scabby hands because they remind me of the granite that looks so smooth from the highway but is actually all crystals and extremely textured.
I guess I'm realizing that location means a lot to me. Traveling somewhere to climb doesn't excite me as much but climbing the wilderness that surrounds me seems to give me more perspective. The mountain seen from the city is not the mountain seen from below looming above you or from on top stretched out below you.
So that's what I've been thinking about lately, congrats for getting through this, I went a little long.