View of Tooele from an unnamed (as far as I know) Oquirrh canyon
(photo by Clint Thomsen)
I tend to lead many of my columns with a single, hopefully interesting moment, then tell the story leading up to that point in “flashback” mode. I don’t think I’ll do that this week, since a grueling 600-foot descent straight down the face of a mountain may not be the best way to introduce this week’s subject. Nor will I begin by discussing the wisdom of mountain climbing with a pinched sciatic nerve.
In fact, I’ll rewind past the near-vertical rubble fields, past the views from the mountainside and the cheatgrass stickers and the moment I stopped making column-relevant observations. I’ll go past all that and focus exclusively on not sliding to my bloody demise.
The above is an excerpt. Click over to the TTB to read the full story.