Aim High

When I was driving up the 405 today, I found myself alongside a big flatbed truck, toting one of those man-made rock-climbing walls, strapped down on its back or side, depending on how you define things. I love fake mountains at Disneyland. But fake mountains in gyms look dumb to me. Especially when the handholds are sort of designed into the faux rock surface. I don't know why climbers want to try and believe they are actually outside when they're working out on one of these things at some trendy fitness center. And the wall is not believable-looking at all. Not believable enough that you might forget and put sunscreen on before you gear up. Not believable enough that a well-composed photograph could be sent to your family as evidence that you've been to Yosemite. To me, they look like crumply mounds of papier mache with those little lick'em and stick'em rings all over them. The kind used to reinforce ring-binder holes. I just think a serious rock-climber might be just as inclined to scale the surface of a structure that is clearly man-made and not attempting to evoke one's inner granola-eater. Granola is terrible for you anyway.