Unable to join them in body, I did a quick search of the Web and found a live view from a camera mounted on the summit observatory. It showed the darkly hunched peaks of the northern Presidential Range beneath blue sky. Another click of the mouse gave me the current weather. Satisfied that my wife and son would experience the summit at its best, I set out to discover, in their honor, what I might say about climbing and not climbing. About remaining upright, and about learning to fall.
Athletes learn to fall, and devotees of the martial arts, and so do dancers and rock climbers.
Mostly, though, we learn to do it badly. I grip the banister and look down, scared. I have never done this on my own, but now I'm going to. Forty years later, encroaching baldness has made it easier to see the scars in my scalp I gained from that adventure. But one has to start somewhere.