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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 2, 2017 - 05:36pm PT
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the Reverend Mathis and I took our Arson Squad Act up to Mariposa today.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 2, 2017 - 11:27pm PT
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Ho-NAN! Buick Roadmasters are old by definition. Nawmean, dude?
Couldn't be saved. Guadalupe Grade.
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guyman
Social climber
Moorpark, CA.
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Good to see Mariposa come through everything....
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 3, 2017 - 01:23am PT
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You know, based on what I saw that DIDN'T BURN or come close to it,
I figure that the bulk of news footage we saw of reporters standing with a background of flames along the ridges and down into town
were mostly shot from Hwy 49 at the CalFire station, where they were safe but could yet deliver their reports in dramatic fashion.
The three shots above were taken on the way up to Mariposa.
The rest are from our traverse of Agua Fria Road and back to 140 & into Merced.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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It turns out that it was an old 1955 Buick Roadmaster afterall.
Ran like a damn sewing machine.
Still, you couldn't hunt from it, I suppose. 7 years after high school
[Click to View YouTube Video]
50 years after high school
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 3, 2017 - 09:29am PT
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Cosmic and I were on the phone just now and my gut's starting to hurt from laughing.
Thanks, amigo! Nice to hear your voice and the parrots' cognomens.
It's interesting. No amount of patient ear hustling gave me a clue as to what these guys all had in common. Were they firemen...no. Deputies...no, too loose. Turned out they were just friends when I asked.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 3, 2017 - 08:45pm PT
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^^^A moment of peace.
Enjoy Enjoy Living Abroad.
http://www.enjoylivingabroad.com/my-blog/who-is-the-real-rosie-the-riveter
Karen writes about Rosie. This is interesting because Decker's mom, Ruth, used to work building the Navy's Corsair fighter as it passed by on the assembly line in the plant where she worked in WWII. He's brought it up a couple of times here lately. Ruth is almost five feet tall, small enough to squeeze into tight spaces in a cockpit. She's 94, too.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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My mom worked in Washington State in shipbuilding (Everett Pacific). Most likely being over five feet got her into the office handling and machining documents. Came in handy when Daniel Ellsberg called her later.
She didn't get to 94, but was approaching
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 4, 2017 - 05:12am PT
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Monsoonish clouds over the Central Valley.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Take a leak or leave one, it's your choice. It's America damn it.
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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Was I Supposed to Write this Much?
What I thought
Might be some words
On politics or lessons learned
Has landed flat
On fingertrips
Like the sailing men that miss their ships
I ask myself
As I sit near
Not caring that the world should hear
A student at
This game of life
Who sees in it such pain and strife
I look beyond
The world afar
As we embrace this dying star
To passions we would
Squander here
When few should comprehend or care
My hand now clenched
And withered some
While love's last irony has gone
To see impressions
Branded there
Within my heart to which I stare
The child who grew
I promised such
To keep him safe and teach him much
But now he has
An empty stare
What part is mine an equal share
To him I wish now
All the best
That he might brave and pass this test
And I can only
Lend support
Where in the past I came up short
For others some
I'm living yet
And for myself I'll not forget
Was I supposed
To write this much?
On what's more often cold to touch
I'll stand beside
And give support
With encouragement and a learned report
For someone close
And someone near
Whose lost more than one should I fear
Was I supposed
To write this much
And exorcise my demons such?
On that I'll rest
I've plead my case
For fortune and some touch of grace
-Tim Sorenson
08/05/2017
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Always in all ways èr on the side more,
dispassionate edit at leisure,
re-read out loud, watering down or
Increasing intensity or focus adding emphasis,
Re-space the breathing after the words
How many?
Astute purveyor_ _ of the alter self. Whole the spawn pre-break out of whiskers
At the precipice before the fall into teenage acne
A horrid, un-coradinated clumsy time
No reason to be as Grumpy. _Hormones,
has my genetics plus . . , I can't stand that his natural climbing potential won't be realized
So I sit around
A lot.skipped generation inherited traits is the best guess, he has a mellow kinda kicked back Znerd ahir, he fancy himself a IT trouble shooter, and a robotics bugabo sleuth.
& How Many ( thumbs in)and to be sure it's only those he is holding up. &?---How many Yella' holds?
Ah, the pause that refreshes
__]but really like Licky álå '77 Airplanzz thread ,it is a suicide. Knob and the lower Merced sparkle bunk legend goes on, Who's looking in?
**How Many Windows in the third eye of the mind looking out?
And further more Looking in?
but then there's only
ONE'
Hot Tuna disc-ography "What #Was Quha? still a work in progress [.]
. . .
, , ,, , ,
. . ' '. '. '. ' '. '. '
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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Apparitions of the Ether...
or
Buried Alive!!
It looked obvious to me
The steps were so familiar
As dusk long peaked to the waiting dawn
And the tiredness of midnight trudged beyond
A dream had been just a dream to me
As I recognized the sequences
The shifts from drama to absurdity
But lurking through the shadows came a theme
Of the frailty of my own mortality
Claustrophobia set in
I had entered the chamber unknowingly
As the exit became much smaller
And the nightmare found me unprepared
For the inescapable finality
Of constricted suffocating death
When no one came to rescue me
And my long lost loved ones did not see
The distress and rapt confusion
In my departure from known reality
Misunderstood and overblown to me
Until I woke up from the dream
The world is what the world would be
In retrospect of my experiences
And in relation to what I've perceived
Though excellent and sublime to me
It's at other times so empty and ill conceived
As if a creator in such enmity could ever be
Bored by endless beauty in an endless sea
When I die perhaps it will come to me
All I've never understood and what will be
A replay of my life to me
Appearing as someone else's odd reality
Or it just ends so unexpectedly
-bushman
08/05/2017
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