- [x] Set timer for 20 minutes - [x] Start writing The only cars in the parking lot were Subaru’s, although you could only tell for some of them by knowing the shape. The back ends were covered with a patchwork of stickers that hid any corporate markings. This pattern exclaimed the drivers as members in a community of wandering climbers who defined their existence by their travels. The plumage as recognizable and declarative as a peacocks tail. The only noise coming from the parking lot was the characteristic rewards of Duolingo chirping from the open front seat of one of the cars. Climbers are continuous measurers and improvers, and while they eschew the internet and wasting time, they are propelled by simple rewards and apparent self-investment. Duolingo, with its gamification of learning, tickles that very part of their brain that climbing appeals to, and makes it feel ok to look at their phone for 15 minutes a day. That and Instagram, which is pure escapism. There’s nothing wrong with needing to escape. That’s what he was doing here. Pulling into the dirt square cut into the side of the woods, he was doing anything he could to not be a part of the rest of his life, if only for today.