Arianna is an absolute rock star.

Check out her climbing technique, it's impeccable.  Not even potty trained, she has the concepts of foot placement, three points of contact at all times, shifting her weight on her feet for reach, and toward the end of the video you might think she's about to launch a dyno.

Her parents must be incredibly proud.

Indian Creek from sinuhe xavier on Vimeo.

One recent night after I put Chloe down for bed, Brooke and I sat on the couch talking about the old days when we rock climbed.  We haven't laced up the shoes and chalked up the hands in a couple of years, thanks to this whole parenting thing.

Oh God - we howled with laughter remembering some of the good times, which mostly revolve around the pathetic way we'd dangle on the rope, destroy the nerves in our finger tips, and gorge on pizza and beer after a full day of such blissful activity.

Then I happened upon this video by Sinuhe Xavier showing some mouthwatering crack climbing at Indian Creek, Utah. Watch it.

It's the whole experience including the approach hike, which totally reminded me of the very first time I went climbing.  A nice dude from the local climbing club offered to take me and a few buddies out to a granite mound for some top roping.  He said, "Be sure to pack a lunch because we'll be out there most of the day."

Okay. Said buds and I loaded up a full-size Coleman ice chest - a real on-the-go party unit with a tow handle on one end and rolling wheels at the other - with a case of Mountain Dew, jerky, a loaf of bread, a pound of sliced turkey, cheese, 8 pounds of ice, chips and salsa.  What the hell, right? We're going to get hungry out there. At the meet spot, a trailhead to the base of the mountain, our kind maestro kicked back on the hood of his Subaru with his gear loaded in a large backpack and two climbing ropes coiled up. He looked at us, slid his sunglasses down his nose and grinned.

"You guys take the ropes."

So I went to the trunk to get out the ice chest and asked for Russ's help. "This thing's heavy, Russ.  Gimme a hand."

Maestro turned.  "What's heavy?"

"The ice chest."

He walked to the back of our car and stopped, didn't say a word. He hung his head and smirked. He pointed toward the mountain.  Pointed at his hiking shoes. Pointed at the rocky hiking trail. Stomped in place and panted like a dog.

I looked at my buddies and shrugged because I didn't get it.

Matt, my other buddy in the group, said to Maestro: "It's got wheels, you know."