Good morning, 5.10. In the land of 'good air', time plays tricks on you. One moment you're dreaming, the next your dream has become your reality. It was the best of times; if only someone had told me. Boulders were set up. Fingers were raw. Harsh lessons learned. My life at home goes on without me, while I drown in a sea of pointless boulders. I don't know how I got here, but here I am, rotting away in the warm Argentinian sun. There are still lines I need to figure out, for my ego at least. The clock is ticking. The gap is widening. I won't always be here. No matter what.

Pictures will follow... as soon as I made it... back home!