My adopted hometown of Lander is a bit of a climbers’ Mecca.
Each summer, the International Climbers Festival brings waves of out-of-towners to the “internationally renowned climbing area surrounding Lander,” where they spend a week swarming anything with finger and toe-holds enough to test their skills. And the “huge limestone, sandstone and granite cliff faces” that run through Sinks Canyon State Park are dotted with climbers no matter the season.
An intriguing side-effect of this fascination with the climbing arts: “Slacklining” is a nearly universal activity. Walking through the park on my way to work each morning, I frequently pass campsites lovingly grouped around pairs of trees and the ropes that join them. Walking back at night, I just as often see solitary slackliners mounted atop their nylon steeds, their bodies contorted in that oddly elegant way that I (with my indifferent balance) can greatly appreciate but never truly replicate.
This, though…this is boss-level slacklining.