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rgold
Trad climber
Poughkeepsie, NY
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Feb 17, 2018 - 09:16am PT
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I hung with Jim a bit in Camp 4 in the late 60's and 70's. Now he has moved to take up residence the hearts and minds of all those who knew him, who loved him, and who were touched by his personal kindness and prodigious abilities.
Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields,
See how his name is feted by the waving grass,
And by the streamers of white cloud,
And whispers of wind in the listening sky...
Born of the sun he traveled a short while toward the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with his honor.
---Adapted from a Yom Kippur meditation
Good bye Jim.
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Flip Flop
climber
Earth Planet, Universe
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Feb 17, 2018 - 09:41am PT
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I hope this is okay. I hope that Jim knew just how big his star is. There are people and times that should be remembered for the very best reasons. Look at the faces on this stage singing this song. How many people have sung this song? They might as well be your faces. The Greatest of the Greatest. I'd put the Bird in the middle with the white hat.
The Author. The Captain.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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Stimbo
Trad climber
Crowley Lake
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Feb 17, 2018 - 09:55am PT
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What an amazing guy and athlete; climber, skier, and nice person. I think I was most impressed by how grounded he was. We send our condolences to Peggy and Layton.
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Jim Herrington
Mountain climber
New York, NY
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Feb 17, 2018 - 09:56am PT
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My ex Sara and Jim on the Snake Dike in 2007-ish.
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Rick A
climber
Boulder, Colorado
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Feb 17, 2018 - 10:26am PT
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I called Jim 10 days ago to say goodbye. He was having none of that, and after describing a recent trip to Italy, he said he was looking for a hospital that could perform a transplant, and that he had every intention of living. I could imagine that crooked little smile of his, as he chuckled,
“I always have a plan.”
He was not able to execute this one, but it was a hallmark of Jim, that behind that carefree, wild-man persona, he always had audacious plans. And he executed them more often than not. Whether pioneering free climbs, big walls, or big alpine, he always had a plan.
This is my favorite memory of Jim:
Early summer in Camp Four in the seventies was a hot mess: a place of tincture, chalk dust, testosterone, new route ambitions, and one-upsmanship. Most conversations did not break below the surface of sly boasts, casual insults, sarcasm and posturing. It was as nakedly competitive as a modern climbing gym, in almost as close quarters.
Mike Graham and I were about to drive down to LA to catch a plane to Paris, on our way to try alpine climbing in Chamonix. I was 21 years old. As we were getting ready to get in my Pinto, Bridwell came over and he adopted a tone I had never heard from him before, grave and deadly serious:
“Be careful. A lot of people die over there and I don’t want that to happen to you.”
I was moved and that moment never left me. Others have mentioned how underneath the legend, Jim was a caring and kind soul. That’s how I’ll always remember him.
Hugs to Peggy and condolences to Layton and the rest of his family.
Rick Accomazzo
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Levy
Big Wall climber
Calabasas
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Feb 17, 2018 - 10:39am PT
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Such an amazing man with even more incredible stories that will be treasured and shared by the many who were fortunate enough to have known him.
RIP Jim, you will be missed. I feel fortunate to have roped up with him and shared his enthusiasm for the art of climbing.
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ron gomez
Trad climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 17, 2018 - 10:52am PT
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24 hours ago
Peace
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nita
Social climber
chica de chico, I don't claim to be a daisy.
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Feb 17, 2018 - 11:00am PT
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*
Condolences to the family and many friends of Jim Bridwell ...
Wonderful stories, pictures and remembrances in this thread, keep them coming.
Rest in Peace Mr Bridwell.
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Bad Climber
Trad climber
The Lawless Border Regions
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Feb 17, 2018 - 12:11pm PT
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Beautiful, eKat.
BAd
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Chris Jones
Social climber
Glen Ellen, CA
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Feb 17, 2018 - 01:35pm PT
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What a character. What an inspiration.
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ron gomez
Trad climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 17, 2018 - 02:32pm PT
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Best post Kath! I woulda hung with yer Pops! Genuine, able to read people. That's why I think me n The Bird got along...we saw each other through the bullsh#t. W
He and I could be screaming at each other one minute and sayin' " I Love you Brother" the next. We respected the others opinion and recognized the ability to voice it and LISTEN to it. I miss Jim so god dahm much, I will miss our road trips, I will miss our conversations, I will miss the stories, I will miss our RESPECT for each other! Ballin my eyes out right now!
Thanks Girl!
Peace
Jim and I left every trip and conversation with those 3 magic words...well we modified it to 4,
"I Love you Brother."
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ron gomez
Trad climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 17, 2018 - 03:31pm PT
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No! Keep it coming! Healing, entertaining and part of our history.
Peace
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Feb 17, 2018 - 03:44pm PT
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The best stories, eKat!
Unstoppable - thanks for sharing.
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ron gomez
Trad climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 17, 2018 - 03:50pm PT
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Please share Kat.
Peace
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BASE104
Social climber
An Oil Field
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Feb 17, 2018 - 04:11pm PT
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A life like this is nothing to be sorry about.
Here is to those who are happy to live their dreams and are willing to pay the price to see them come true.
Too few of us do things half way. We keep a foot planted in the real world. Those who leave it all behind to pursue their dreams are to be celebrated.
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Gene
climber
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Feb 17, 2018 - 04:12pm PT
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Please keep these stories coming. I never met Jim, but I appreciate getting to know the man through all of your experiences and memories of him. Thanks.
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jstan
climber
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Feb 17, 2018 - 04:53pm PT
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During a trip to Yosemite in 68( I think) Jim went out of his way to talk to me. Me an Eastern climber. Right now it is a period of great change. We will miss him.
Today was a trip into nostalgia, I went down to the Pit to recover the sign I had had made.
The usual residential trash. Nothing unexpected.
Nothing is the same though:
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Rick A
climber
Boulder, Colorado
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Feb 17, 2018 - 04:57pm PT
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Kath said,
I sat there scared to death to tell them how I felt - we were young and stupid and "love" could be taken for all the wrong reasons…”
I’ll say. Everyone in camp had a crush on the lovely Kath.
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Sierra Ledge Rat
Mountain climber
Old and Broken Down in Appalachia
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Feb 17, 2018 - 05:17pm PT
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I'm sorry
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Roger Breedlove
climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
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Feb 17, 2018 - 05:49pm PT
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Jim and I had a short-listed box of memories, little vignettes that conjured up a long friendship (and necessary since we haven't created any new ones and I stay away from talking about personal politics), memories that we couldn't resist looking into when we'd get on the phone or, more rarely, see each other. They always managed to bring back something that we both cherished in those very early days of our friendship, starting in 1969.
In our last call, a few weeks ago, Jim added a few memories he had as if he were rerunning the reels. They were more observational with no story to them, but things that had stuck in Jim's memory. I have clear recollections of all of them, or at least I think I do, but a few of the new ones Jim added we had never ever talked about. It reminded me of how close we were in those early days.
One of those shared and resonate memories (which we left in the box on that last call) was about almost nothing, a drive from the Valley to Squaw Valley in the snow at the end of the 1970 climbing season, just before ski season started. A memory in which, as far as I can recall, nothing happened. An old car, full of gear, two guys, a snow storm, and no windows.
Jim was a ski patrolman at Squaw. I, however, had quit college the previous spring and had moved to the Valley to climb full-time. Jim and I had met the previous year, and he had taken me in, given me a spot on the rescue team and, although I didn't fully realize it at the time, created a home for all of us. At the end of my first season as a full-time climber, I had no place to go and no plan: I was a college dropout with long hair, and nearly broke. I decided to spend the winter in Squaw Valley. Jim probably encouraged me. I have a vague recollection of crashing with Chris Jones and maybe Eric Beck before I got started as a lift operator and could pay rent. A lot of climbers spent time there, many of whom post on ST. Chris Jones' picture up-thread shows the time and place. Even though I never skied, I ended up spending three winters in Squaw, driving machines.
But first I had to get there. Jim offered me a lift from Yosemite to Squaw in his newly acquired, used car; given its shape it was probably a late 50s model: a nice, big sedan. Tioga pass was closed, so we drove on the west side and crossed over on Highway 80 into Truckee. It was snowing hard. Jim was taking it easy, nursing his beast along. Our friendship was built on talking about life, and we had similar points of view and plenty of life to figure out, so the time passed quickly enough.
However, I was uncomfortable, sittifng cramped, mid-seat. I had very little baggage but Jim had lots of ski and climbing gear. The back was full of stuff. And several pairs of skis ran diagonally over the front seat and stuck out the front passenger window. I had to sit twisted up between the skis and Jim. In new cars, the back seats fold down so skis in the trunk can pass up through the gap in front seats, but this was so last century and the front seats were benches without head rests. Just so the open window doesn't sound too alarming, there were no back passenger windows.
Driving along in a whiteout, parsing the meaning of life in an artificially enhanced bivouac experience in which the wind speed is relative: 50 mile an hour winds during a snow storm replaced with 50 mph driving in a snow storm in a car with open windows.
We were bundled up and taking care not to lose stuff out the windows or get cut up on the ski edges. Jim did a good job keeping us on the road. I don't remember much traffic. Not surprising, given the conditions.
Sweet trip. Jim always remember how he ended up with this car, the exact make and year of his new car, and why there were no windows. I don't remember the car making it back to the Valley the next spring.
Toughness was always an ingredient in Jim's successes, and he worked to passed it along. But, obviously, style was equally important.
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