My daddy was a most excellent backpacker/Mr. Off Trail Guy. Forestry student, lifetime log scaler, up high/steep crappy scree guy, no ropes. Dad was/is not a "climber", just a guy loking for an elegant line and/or a good adventure.
Which probably explains my habits, neither good backpacking/hiking TR fodder, nor climbing TR fodder. Just Chosscades brushy loose fun stuff, with no unusual or extraordinary objective ever.
Something in between hiking and climbing, not appreciated by either. The pictures of me, at maybe age seven, are pretty good.
But in the end: