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jewedlaw
Trad climber
San Francisco, CA
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Topic Author's Original Post - Dec 6, 2011 - 11:42pm PT
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Post pictures of you (or other stuff that doesn't belong) inside of a haul bag!
Waited till my roommate was gone to take this photo... realized how much harder it is alone. I can get in this thing in just over 10 seconds. Who holds the record?
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nutjob
Gym climber
Berkeley, CA
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That looks heavier than my bivy rig:
But you can probably get into yours faster.
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philo
Trad climber
Somewhere halfway over the rainbow
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Apr 26, 2012 - 08:15am PT
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I have no photo, just the story.
I had Marti, the repairs dept. mgr. at TNF, sew together a bag to my specs.
I knew shite about size, then, figuring big is best, the "BIG BAG THEORY."
It worked worse than the famed Dolt Cart, once I got it on the Nose of EC.
The repairs dept. was at the old 1234 5th St. Berkeley address, where the
Factory Outlet would open later on. Marti and I took it outside. Dolores
and my friend Mathis joined me inside of it, all standing up. We asked
Marti to join us, at Mathis' suggestion, but she wasn't stupid.
And we were not billed for the work or the materials: Marti chalked it up
to R & D, figuring it would not function as planned. She nailed it.
We did get the SOB to Sickle, where the March runoff put the kibosh on our
plans by soaking all the contents of the bag. Nothing can withstand El
Cap runoff.
The members of the '73 Big Bag Theory expedition: Scott Evans, Ventura;
Cowboy Larry Moore, Y.V.; the estimable and hirsute Dick Ellsworth; and
Mouse.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Apr 26, 2012 - 08:22am PT
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C'est vrai, mec. Bon jour.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Apr 26, 2012 - 10:57am PT
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Bistro= You have paid too much (in french).
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Edge
Trad climber
New Durham, NH
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Apr 26, 2012 - 11:06am PT
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On my first wall, the South Face of the Column in 1981, we had the second jug with my prototype Wild Things backpack, which we also opted to haul on a couple pitches. It was my bivi sack on Dinner Ledge that night.
Two years later I had made my own bivy sack, which I used on a Chamonix trip. This was my heavenly spot below the Aiguille du Peigne, with the sack in the foreground. It had just enough room for me with my fully loaded pack above my head, acting to keep the fabric off my face.
One night there was a hellacious thunder storm, and I weathered it almost all night long until around 4 am when a local guide who was camping nearby woke me up and offered to let me move into his food tent. The next morning he was chuckling with his French clients, and then introduced me to a gorgeous member of his group. In broken English, he said, "Zis ees my seester; she likes ice cream!" I'm not sure what ice cream had to do with anything, but his sister, who was a student at Georgetown, was a very welcome aquaintance...
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