It start­ed with a after­noon of climb­ing on Sat­ur­day. I lead three real­ly nice routes and had no falls. The camp­ing fol­lowed on Sat­ur­day evening, and was going very well with one of my favorite com­bos: red wine, cheese, and bread. There was no rain, no mos­qui­tos, a nice fire, and then whiskey. The final com­bi­na­tion was not kind to me, not unex­pect­ed­ly. I even went to bed rel­a­tive­ly ear­ly com­pared to the group after being very respon­si­ble and try­ing to drink a lot of water, but Sun­day was not to be a good climb­ing day. I was nat­u­ral­ly tired, but I felt a bit guilty about my grumpy mood, because it can still just be a nice day out­side. How­ev­er, I tend to get a bit frus­trat­ed with myself. Main­ly, I just felt like a tak­ing a show­er and a nap. Also, I didn’t want to erase the feel­ing of the good leads with some bad ones. After walk­ing over to the first climb­ing sec­tor and see­ing the whole group already start­ed, three of us decid­ed to head over to dif­fer­ent sec­tor. That was a good deci­sion, because the tran­quil­i­ty and the friend­ly two-pitch route helped my state of mind a lot. That was all the climb­ing that I did yes­ter­day, which was fine.