The Human Mule

Life was good. The approaches were short. The routes straightforward.  The work wonderfully mindless. After a long dry-spell of writing, a job as a climbing guide at Smith Rock was like a vacation from life. I was 22 again, not a failing writer struggling to pay the rent. It was too good to last.

Through the years, I’ve tried to escape words and journalism, but the writing life always has a funny way of creeping back into my world.  This time it came in the form of a 230-pound cameraman with a fear of heights, a fast talking New York producer and a 30-year-old broadcaster trying to return to her childhood.  It turns out you have to earn your 15 seconds of fame.

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