When I was 13 my class went to a French summer camp in Powell River for a week. One of the activities was outdoors rock climbing. I managed to climb just over halfway to the top. I found myself incapable of climbing any further. So I yelled down to be lowered. There was a lake right next to the rock face and it was very windy so my voice was not heard. I decided I may as well keep trying to go higher. After a few minutes I had a breakthrough and was able to continue my ascent. However, I eventually came to a standstill yet again. Although this time I decided I would not give up so easily. With lengthy trial and error, I managed to get my hands and feet in precisely the right places to pull myself upwards. I pressed on and made it to the top.
