The brothers climbed the face. At 4478 meters they stood, triumphant and utterly spent. And yet, there was probably some quiet, persistent voice whispering an unpleasant reminder in the back of their minds: Nice job. Now get down there and ride back home.
It’s been a long winter in the gym. While the snow piled outside, the climbers gathered within. Pawing our way up the walls, I’m sure many of us wondered how long it would be before we drew one chalky breath too many and died of some rare but serious lung disease. Fortunately, there was always the distraction of eye-candy. Man-candy.
When so many climbers are drawn into the warehouse of plastic, it’s a great time to display your feathers for a prospective mate. After a full winter of observation, I can offer some tips to you gentleman that are sure to set us women-folk into a dither.
