Sometimes when I burp, it feels so good to get out that I don't understand how I comfortably existed before burping. I gotta give the human body props though, it's one heck of a self-regulating machine. Flatulence - unpleasantly comical as it is - keeps our innards stable.

Question: What's the real difference between a fart and a burp? They seem to perform a similar function, and produce a similar by-product, yet the mouth and the anus are waaaaaaaay opposite each other on the human orifice spectrum. Just a curious musing.

Now, somebody remind me what I'm doing here. Oh yeah, I'm blogging! Man, this shit takes me back. I'd like to apologize to folks who ain't heard from me in a while. It's kinda funny, I think 95% of my friends have given up on me as a social participant. And who can blame them? I've stopped calling people or returning most phone calls, I don't go to classes anymore, I haven't signed onto my aim screename for nearly a week. What's gotten into Eric?

I'll tell you what's gotten into Eric.

Cancer.

HaHAHAHAhaHA... actually, it's more like Climbing.

Yeah I've been climbing a lot. Between my job and my recreation, it's something I've really devoted a lot of time to. And who can blame me? It's a tremendously satisfying sport - perfect for this period in my life. Besides getting into wicked shape, I've been learning the tricks of the trade and really appreciating the outdoors.

Cody and I went back to the New River Gorge last weekend, and it's now my fourth favorite place on Earth behind Zurich, Thailand, and Jacobs Field. This time we didn't go with an organized trip, but with a few fellow climbers we met through the ARC. They were well-equipped with ropes, biners, and quick-draws, and I climbed some spectacular new sandstone faces.

Rock climbing really is one of the most hardcore sports there is. It may not appear to have the inherent danger of a skydive or bungi jump, but those really just require lots of preparation and one leap of faith. Climbing is the exact opposite. You fight against gravity rather than settle into it, and scaling a wall requires prolonged periods of focus and exertion.

There's a great deal of epuipment involved with rock climbing; ropes, harnesses, belay devices, etc. But none of it is really there to help you. It's constructed such that you can climb an entire face solely under your own power. It's crazy to look at this 85-foot wall I just climbed without falling and think, "I could have just walked up to that thing, and made my way to the top with nothing but my own hands and feet." Of course I don't have the cojones to do something like that yet, but maybe someday I will. Cody and I have been looking at this building in the business school that's very climbable. Maybe in the spring, we'll see...

I think the one thing I love most is the personalized essence of climbing. It's just you and that wall. You're not competing with anyone, just trying to get yourself to the top without a fall. Meanwhile, the only consequence of poor climbing is pain. You put your physical well-being on the line with every move you make. A fall isn't going to hurt the rock, it's going to hurt you. That's hardcore.

Although the scariest moment from this past weekend didn't involve anyone falling off the wall....

It occured when I was climbing my second route, a flake of rock about 40 feet tall that wasn't too difficult save the overhanging roof at the top. When I got to it, I was careful to avoid a cluster of rock to my left with big chalk X's on it. That's the sign for loose rock, a courtesy among climbers as there is nothing more distressing than one of your hand/footholds breaking away. However as I went to swing my left leg up onto the ledge, my knee bumped a jutting piece of rock. To my horror, I watched a slab maybe 3 feet long and a few inches thick slide out from the wall and begin tumbling downwards.

Now I'm terrible at estimating units of measure, but I'm gonna say this thing weiged at least 40 pounds - not your average falling stone - and there were about 30 people milling around below in various groups working on various faces. My first reaction was slight disbelief. Was I hallucinating? Did this really just happen? That rock was huge! I genuinely thought I was about to kill someone. After the initial shock passed, I (thankfully) did the only logical thing and screamed.

"ROCK! ROCK! ROCK!"

I got out three Rock's before it hit the earth with a crash, and an eerie silence filled the gorge. Fortunately my belayer had been watching the entire time, and was able to move out of the way. The rock landed more or less where he had been standing, and I shudder to think what could have happened if he took a blow. There was also a girl climbing the route next to me maybe 15 feet below when the rock fell, she had been spared as well and immense relief set in when I realized everyone was OK.

Once I stopped shaking, and pulled the last move onto that roof, I was lowered down to learn the extent of damage below. The was one major casualty, an old-school looking aluminum canteen that Cody had purchased a few days before. The thing was smashed, pulverized, decimated, mangled, any adjective you can think of to describe twisted remains. Having been full of water at the time, it effectively soaked a few standing close by, but everyone was more or less relieved at the averted catastrophe, and the canteen made an interesting souvenier from a day in Bubba's Canyon.

So there you have it, my first crazy falling rock story. It really is uncanny the way it happened. Several people had climbed that route before me with little consequence, and I really didn't bump the rock all that hard, it had been precariously close to falling for some time. Also the fact that Cody's canteen was squashed flat is another curiousity. Cody was halfway up another route, some 50 feet away from the scene, yet he of all people had left his canteen in that exact spot. Of everyone climbing in that area that day, I knocked the biggest rock onto my one friend's canteen.

Spooky, huh? It gets better.

The next day I found a chunk of rock in my backpack that I'm 94% certain came from this falling stone. At the time of the incident, my backpack was sitting on a ledge below where the rock crashed and exploded. It was in the perfect position to catch a piece of debris or two. Also, I found the rock in a smaller pocket of my bag - the one I keep my climbing shoes in. Since I was on the wall at the time, it's quite likely that I took my shoes out and didn't zip it closed. The piece of rock is the same texture and feel of the walls we were climbing, and I certainly never put any stones into my own backpack. I'm gonna chalk it up as a message from God - though what it means I'll never know - but we're keeping both the canteen and the rock-chip as unique mementos of our weekend.

There you have it. One scary moment at The New. Aside from said rockfalls, the entire weekend really kicked ass. The weather on Saturday was pristinely sunny. I was climbing shirtless. In November!

It looks like winter is rolling in though, hope y'all are ready. It snowed here last night for the first time, and I must say I'm mighty excited to have this season come around. Oh yes, it's gonna be cold. Unfathomably cold, perhaps. But I don't want to hear people bitching about it. This is the planet we live on. This is the world you were built for. It offers a diverse range of experiences, some of which happen to involve cold weather. Either appreciate it, or step aside so somebody else can.

As for me, I'm growing all my hair out and embracing our wintery passage. My only rule: Never go outdoors without a hoodie. You heard it here first.