Like everyone else in my generation, I looked up to Chris Sharma the most. There were lots of other amazing sport climbers, regionally or globally recognized, that I thought were badass, but Chris was always the most impressive. He repeated and established many of the world’s hardest climbs for 20 years. He won so many comps he entered, always climbing with confidence and an effortlessness that captivated everybody. Plus, he was super nice and took interest in everybody that talked to him, no matter who they were. I remember meeting him at Mission Cliffs while he ate his burrito when I was 12 or 13 and was totally starstruck. I couldn’t believe he seemed as interested in getting to know me as much as I wanted to fan out on him. It was awesome to become friends with him and climb together over the years.

Witnessing the first light on the mountain. Getting psyched with a cup of coffee. Fantasizing and obsessing about that move, that hold, that moment that it clicks. Looking at inspiring lines I've never seen before. Marveling at a beautiful sunset in the company of beautiful people. Going bouldering by myself. Feeling confident in vulnerable positions high off the ground. Feeling the texture of the rock on a windy, dry day. Supporting friends on their projects and being a hype-man. Becoming intimate with a place over a months-long climbing trip. The sheer joy of moving your body fluidly over vertical terrain. That moment you finally do that move, link that sequence, top out that climb you've been trying for hours, days, months or years, and break through that psychological ceiling of ‘can't.’