Discussion Topic |
|
This thread has been locked |
TradIsGood
Happy and Healthy climber
the Gunks end of the country
|
|
The narrative is good...
But RV (the movie) is a must see.
Then there was a sailboat distance race. Custom 39 foot yacht. All sorts of hoses and valves to keep all the water moving in the right direction. Like in to fill, and out... and not even a privacy curtain.
But first, you have to understand that these types of boats have very shallow bilges. And not a lot of storage, so sometimes the food is kept there, since it is only inches from cold water, at least in the early season races. Especially food like cooked chicken.
Well anyway, I had raced on the boat for a few weeks at least. The plumbing is a bit more complicated than a bucket. But everything seemed to be working out ok. Handle on the bulkhead to keep from falling off as you pound through the waves. And the pump handle seemed to be filling in clean water when done.
Then wham. Hose blows off. Seems that you need to have two valves open, not just one. So what ordinarily might have ended up with the fish, ...
Everybody was complimentary of the special sauce on the chicken for the rest of the race.
|
|
pcousar
Sport climber
White Salmon, WA
|
|
I had a good one off the whitney gillman myself. It was in winter so I had to throw the rock away from the dike - LOL!
|
|
Pman
Trad climber
Upstate NY
|
|
Frogland - 2nd pitch on a VERY windy April morning. The guy I'm simul-seconding with looks at me with much urgency and asks if he can just unclip his rope from the pieces and speed ahead to the belay, letting me clean all the gear on the pitch. With a laugh I say it's no problem.
He's climbing sooooo fast to the belay ledge that I know something is terribly wrong.
As I reach the 2nd pitch belay ledge, there's my buddy, doubled over moaning with his pants around his ankles pleading for a bag, a spare t-shirt, anything.
With a grin, I hand him a one of those ultra thin space blankets and watch in horror as he rips it open and tries to tear pieces of the corners off to create some sort of make-shift toilet paper for the impending gastric eruption.
With no luck in tearing the foil the inevitable begins. As his eyes bulge with pain and shouts of profanity fill the air he tries to strategically position the space-blanket between his legs to catch the onslaught. Did I mention the wind?
By the time he's done he's got both hands covered in sh*t, a
huge piece of space foil dripping with black sludge blowing around his waist and a defiled belay ledge.
Just about this time we hear the leader from the group below as he works his way towards the ledge we're on.
My buddy looks at us in shear panic and asks for help...
After another minute of uncontrollable laughter I take my camera out, snap a few pictures and give him the carrying case to "store" his newly acquired space blanket. He crams it in, we use all of our water to clean the ledge as best we could and then began rigging a rappel.
|
|
turd
climber
|
|
During certain marital discussions, a sharply executed fart can be used as an effective counterpoint, and/or punctuation.
I have found that a shart in this situation reduces the authority of the statement somewhat.
I like this thread very much.
|
|
poop_tube
Big Wall climber
33° 45' N 117° 52' W
|
|
MUST
POST
HERE
!!!!!!!!!1111111
|
|
RRK
Trad climber
Talladega, Al
|
|
I looked back through my emails trying to find this little story but no luck so here's the condensed version:
We were climbing in Vegas one year and decided to head up Frogland late one afternoon mainly because it was easy to get to. Nick Brash, Lee Carter and I broke off from the group to climb this route and everyone else went on up the canyon. We just got off the ground good when Lee looks at us very sincerely and says "boys - I've got to shit". Thank you for sharing that - I have some paper in the head of my pack about 1 pitch down, which is about as useful right now as a screen door on a submarine. Since nobody had anything disposable at the belay we simply soldiered on.
We climbed and climbed in the freezing ass cold with the wind blowing about 100 miles per hour. Every time we would get close enough to talk to each other he would say "boys, I've really really got to shit". We finished up one pitch at the base of a little rising arch which could easily be walked/liebacked up. Though it was not his lead, Lee grabs the rack and heads up with his butt flat against the rock facing out, pushing down with his hands and sort of sitting-his-way-up the rock (he was turtle-heading). Nick and I look at each other like "whatthefukishedoing?" I cleaned the line and it was supposed to be my turn to take the rope up. Lee grabs the rack again like he's robbing the 7-11 and off he goes. The rope goes out of sight and all is quiet for a long time, meanwhile I get Nick up. "Where'd he go?" "I dunno?" "Think we ought to jug the line?" "Naah, give it a few minutes." Finally we hear him rattling around, then the belay is on and we top-out. For some reason Lee's not frantic anymore and wants to shake everyone's hand. Finally after all the greetings have been exchanged Nick asked "Did you sh#t?" "Yeah, it felt great". "What'd you use for paper?" "SAND!!" Yowww - and not a drop of water to wash off with. Now we call him "The Sand Man". Sing along if you know the song (to the tune from the TV series Branded)
Stranded
Far from the toilet bowl
What do you do when you're strande
And you can't find a roll
To prove you're a man
You must wipe with some sand....
Stranded.
That's my sh#t story - not as good as Jello's (do they call you shithead now? is that guy still alive? - with both testicles?)- sorry I couldn't come up with the embellished version.
RRK
|
|
happiegrrrl
Trad climber
New York, NY
|
|
I had a first meeting thing with a guy on that fitness-singles site, who was a mountaineer of sorts. He told me, during our "over coffee check each other out" thing, a poop story. Though I suppose this sort of thing would be in a dating "do's and don'ts" guide, it is understood that fecl matter is a very funny topic of conversation amongst outdoorsy types.
At any rate - the story goes....
He and a female partner were on a winter ascent of some hill in the northeast. It was brutal. Weather had come in, and they found themselves in bad conditions, and not 100% prepared for them. They couldn't see anything ahead of them; they were cold, wet and getting worried...
The partner was less experienced, and having some trouble. Apparently, the weather improved, and the guy was feeling better about the thing. When the partner said "Are we going to die out here?" he was honestly able to reply "No." But, he added "If you'd asked me this an hour ago, I might not have been able to say that."
Pretty intense...They are exhausted, and so very relieved as they stumbled onto the hut they'd been seeking, in the dark, hours after theyd expected to be there. Quickly, they get water going and get some sustenence.
Bedded down for the night, the guy begins to realize that....he's got some business to attend to. Serious business, that isn't subsiding. In fact, he's starting to go into full-on gastronomical distress....
Though he's just been through a life-threatening ordeal with this woman, he didn't really know her "that" well, and was maybe hoping that...well, to get lucky at some point, frankly. But, he really had to go, and outside the weather had taken up again and was awful. He was very nervous about going "out there," in unfamiliar terrain.... But he just couldn't crap in the hut. If he did, he knew he would be kissing goodbye any chance of ever geeting laid.
The internal storm persisted. He really had to go. He had taken ill from something and matters were quickly spinning out of his control.....
At last, he made a dash for it. Raced out and dropped to the ground immediately, let go with a gut-busting pile of poop. A spectacular display, complete with sound effects.
Making it safely back to his sleeping bag, he caught a glipse of his hopeful's eye and knew...he might as well have spilled his guts right there in front of her. His hopes had been dashed.
.
.
.
.
The next morning, the weather had cleared, the sun was out, and it was a new day. Alas, every silver lining has it's dark cloud, for our man was well aware of the evidence of his outpouring the night before, just off to the side. It would be hard to miss....
Steeling himself, ready to do what had to be done, he proceeded. He would live through the ordeal.
They walked out. There it was....plain as day. He was ruined all over again. She averted her eyes out of politeness, but it had been too late.
And about 10 feet ahead, though it might as well have been in another continent, with the sea of darkness swelling between him and salvation when he'd needed it - was an outhouse.
|
|
thebravecowboy
Social climber
Colorado Plateau
|
|
|
Nov 21, 2013 - 12:15pm PT
|
Errabody does it.
My buddy Conrad was on a date with this hawt hawt woman. They were hiking a good trail through steep terrain when he realized that he needed to crap. Like now. 'Scuses himself and heads downhill, tries to dig a hole without much success (steep terrain). He craps in the hole and whilst wiping loses his balance, sinking both boots into the steaming fudge dragon in the hole.
With the same chick, next weekend: Conrad shits his drawers while leading a 10 at Jimmy Cliff. Those spoilt trousers were stripped in secret and stowed 'neath his truck seat for the rest of the trip. Hawthawthawtie sitting there in his truck, mere feet from his foul secret. He said it was like The Telltale Heart - catching whiffs intermittently, wondering all the while if she has figured out his stinky secret
|
|
donini
Trad climber
Ouray, Colorado
|
|
|
Nov 21, 2013 - 12:19pm PT
|
How can you retieve kale from poop? I've been told that kale is better after some preliminary processing.
|
|
Trad is Rad
Trad climber
San Luis Obispo California
|
|
|
Nov 21, 2013 - 12:56pm PT
|
Stepped in a nice pile once on the 2nd class ledges on the royal arches, didn't know until the smell finally caught up with me.
|
|
|
SuperTopo on the Web
|
Let us know!