Shall we gather at the river?

Saturday, Tonya wanted to climb Foxfire. I was more than happy to lead it for her. On the ledge after the 5th pitch( I split the 4th into 2 to prevent drag) I built a bomber anchor, lit a smoke and hung my legs over the edge. As I was belaying Tonya up I gazed at the Scenery. I was high above the bend in the river and well above the trees. No one but us was around. I was seriously digging the ledge and the view. She climbed through the crux, stood up on a jug and said,"You look pretty relaxed up there." It was a few moments of pure inner peace to be sure.
Sunday I met up with Rags and his crew at Fortress Wall. we all warmed up on the easy routes and Alan and I wandered off to bag Horny B*tch 5.8+ The first 15 feet of it is total crap but it gets really good after that. I had a couple pieces under me and was doing OK when I heard a loud voice down in the valley below. Alan said it sounded like a preacher, then I caught the term "Holy Ghost". Yup must be a revival outdoors. I climbed up to the spot where the route is a wide short chimney above a small ledge capped by a roof with the crack out the right side and around a corner. I put in a big cam and started stemming up to the roof. I reached around the corner for a jam but it was off fingers.No go. I heard a voice crying in the wilderness. No not the preacher,it was me cursing .I downclimbed and studied the right wall. I gave it a try. No go. I rested and stemmed up the chimney again. I shoved another cam in the off finger size crack. I wouldn't hit thje ledge if I fell so I just went for it, twisting my fingers in there to get a lock. It was tough but I got past it. The preacher was saving lost souls down below me and I was saving my big #5 cam for the second crux or the second coming, whichever came first. It was unbearably hot and I was sweating like a horny b*tch in church.
The next crux is a short offwidth but this time I escaped to some rails on the left wall with an armbar in the crack. I was fully expecting Satan to tempt me when I got to the belay ledge. The view was impressive and the preacher was still going at it. No Satan, just a huge wasp nest. His minions I supposed.
Alan came up in good style and we rapped off into some bushes and trees that ate my new rope like Charlie Browns kite. I did some more cursing trying to unstick it then watched out for coppehead snakes when I got to the ground. I know they live there but I guess they wanted no part of a heathen climber like me. Down in the valley it was quiet while the preacher dunked the sinners in the Red River. I wasso hot and tired, a soaking in the river would have been nice, but I am happy with my send.