Rob, Brian, CJ—do your mothers know what you’re up to? Yeah, we're on the summit of Independence Monument!
Photograph © Stewart M. Green

So Mother's Day is this Sunday. What are you doing for dear old mom? Buying her a new Sterling climbing rope? New set of C3 Camalots? New Black Diamond portaledge to get cozy with dad on those long El Cap routes? Ha.

I've been climbing a long time and my mother still doesn't understand rock climbing. She knows it's dangerous. She thinks I'm reckless. She's afraid I'll fall yet again and end up in the ER yet again. Even still, after all the routes I've been up and all the climbing areas I've cranked at across the world, she still says, when she finds out I'm going rock climbing once again, "Now you be careful. You don't want to fall!" Says it without fail!

Anyway, mothers are supposed to care about us wild things...even when we're reckless; even when we're ten days out on a road trip and still haven't showered; even when we're screaming "Merde" in the teeth of a howling wind on an alpine ridge; and even when we fall from grace. Mothers care about us, even when it seems no one else does. They want us to be careful, to come home safe. That's a good thing. Wherever you are this weekend, think about your mom. Give her a call if you can, just to say, "Happy Mother's Day and hey, I'm okay."