When I was kid, I had a small tree house in the backyard. Being the third child, my parents weren't all that involved in my childhood ramblings in the back of our house, but the tree house was basically a throw away piece of 3/4" plywood that was shaped like a quarter circle pie wedge. I nailed it to a couple branches in a spruce tree about 8" up, and with the final nail the adventures flooded my childhood mind like a coked up Indiana Jones. "This Tree House Belongs in a Museum!" I even built a clearly sturdy rope ladder for which to haul my childhood obesity up into the sky, swinging from branch to branch narrowly escaping the natives that were keen to see my shrunken head adorn their bamboo trophy cases. In my mind, my perfect creation was nothing less than an unequaled wood worker's masterpiece:
In reality, it was a serious death trap and potentially hazardous falling object with a 'rope ladder' that was actually a 6' piece of thin cotton sash cord tied with square knot to a black leather belt I found on the street in front of our house from which I did, in fact, one day break my left arm in a fall from the 8' Swiss Family Condo:
I believe it was in that single level arboreal Ritz Carlton that the seeds of fascination with ropework, acrophobic exposure, and a Darwinistic desire to seek challenge and adventure took their fateful roots.
I was led to Alastair Humphreys and the concept of microadventures by a podcast I frequent, The Dirtbag Diaries. In that episode, The Sufferthon, Fitz Cahall conducts a short interview with Alastair about how adventure is only a state of mind. I love this kind of thing because I totally agree. "Adventure is accessible to normal people, in normal places, in short segments of time and without having to spend much money." Alastair goes on to describe some of his local adventures in the London area such as:
Walking a Lap of the M25, a roughly 120 mile loop road around London
365 Day Photo Project, where he endeavored to take a photo every day of the year
And my favorite due it it's simplicity:
Sleep on a Hill, where he um, goes out and sleeps on a hill:
DRY ICE was born from that unquantifiable passion. Driven by the desire to mix it up, to get out of the compfort zone, to challenge the norm, George and I developed these tools to do something different. We saw a void and DRY ICE fills it. When climbing with DRY ICE, you'll quickly understand that indoor climbing can be so much more than molded resin holds and chalky gym mats. Climbing with DRY ICE is your gateway to microadventure, where those who are jaded by routine gym workouts can reconnect with the feelings that brought them to climbing in the first place, and those who are new to climbing can get a taste of what lies ahead. For DRY ICErs, the phrase 'I'm bored' simply does not exist.
(Warning, unapologetic sales pitch ahead) Visit the DRY ICE STORE to start your microadventure today, and while your tooling your way to being a stronger. more confident climber in preparation for your macroadventures, perhaps you'll find your perfect tree house too.
Ben Carlson, President, Furnace Industries