A few years ago my Girl friend and I took a drive cross country in our newly purcahsed VW Westy, this in it self was an epic but thats a story for another day. We ended up in southern Arizona at Cochise Stronghold to meet and climb with a friend who was on his journey cross country from NH.
We were doing some sport climbing one of the days when I found this cool looking route I was intent to do and geared up. My friend flaked the rope among the talus and got on belay w/ a gri-gri and after all of the usual safety checks I was on my way up. I clipped and passed the first bolt at ten feet with little effort and proceeded to a three inch horizontal foot ledge about nine feet above. At the ledge it was obvious this was the stance intended to clip the second draw except for one small problem, me of not being able to reach the bolt. I made a quick decision to climb up onto some thin crimps to clip the bolt at waist level, I pulled the draw off the loop on my harness and in that split second blew off the crimp in my other hand. On my way down my feet hit the three inch ledge and sent me parallel to the ground as I passed the first and only bolt clipped. My friend at this moment realized he could not take rope fast enough and reacted to drop the belay and soften the blow. As he caught my head my body landed on the pile of the rope all at the same time. I landed with a single thud as a Pro Wrestler would hit the mat after being suplexed. I hit my head on his knee and all I saw was a flash when my bell rang. I quickly stood up in a panic checking my head for blood and walked around muttering "I'm OK" over and over until we all believed it.
Well the epic I believe has been the last three years persuing the sport I love most while a little demon sits on my shoulder reminding me of everything I have to live for.