Well this was one of those nights when people were in town for the holidays. The snow was falling like it’s supposed to in the mountains, maybe an inch an hour accumulating on rooftops, streets and sidewalks. Spirits were flowing. Christmas lights were lit, like we all were, buzzed so much that at a point in the party no one could come up with a reason why we shouldn’t go out.

It must’ve been a full moon and the coyotes were a howlin’. That night amidst the spirits my friends were climbing everything that looked like it could be climbed. The routes included: the outside of a ten-foot stucco ATM station next to the bank, with an overhanging bulge near the finish and a foot of snow on the top, and a plastic horse that was a sign for a local cowboy shop which was twelve feet off the ground, covered in snow.

We were a group of climbers and a couple girls that liked climber dudes who were along for the kicks.

After Sparks had climbed the ATM machine, had a few drinks at the bar, and walked a mile across town in six inches of snow he was ready for anything. A free mind, egged on by six intoxicated souls high and completely stoned into the winter moment. That -anything- Sparks was ready for, led us to the entrance of the sketchiest bar in town, the Ajax.

Outside was a large thirty foot vertical sign that read P I Z Z A, which probably confused some tourists each year to walk in and find no pizza place just second hand smoke, beer and a handful of souls there to escape whatever it was that led them to the Ajax.

The start of the building is what appears to be some average masonry: big stones two feet tall and two feet wide cemented into the wall, protruding out a couple inches so that they make great climbing holds, not at all symmetrical, but hey we’re talking about a shady bar here. These perfect holds lead up to a wooden shingled roof, slightly angled and this night covered in snow. Just right of the route was the entrance to the bar.

Now two or three of us had got to this point before Sparks and found the move too precarious and difficult to attempt. The move wasn’t very dangerous, only eight feet off the ground, so a fall was relatively safe with five spotters below.

Sparks was “on” and you could see it in his eyes, and feel it in the energy that surrounded him. After an unsuccessful attempt Sparks was about to climb back onto the wall when a bouncer poked his head out, eyes glazed over from a night of complimentary shift drinks. He glanced over at Sparks with a look that said, ‘what the hell are you doing? Sparks quickly acted like he was just checking out the well-done masonry work and glanced back at us, rubbing the wall, “Yeah this is real nice isn’t it?”