Discussion Topic |
|
This thread has been locked |
Tarbuster
climber
right here, right now
|
|
|
Jul 11, 2009 - 01:21am PT
|
At the close of the Winter 1982 or 1983.
Josh, Baby.
Grandma Roberts and I were hanging out at the entrance to B Loop where Bachar was sitting down right near the bulletin board, leaning against a blue ballistics pack, jotting stuff down in a spiral notebook.
"Watcha do'in with the logbook John?"
"Writing down my solo routines, so I can look back in later years and remember exactly what I was up to..."
Cripes, not that I recall the particular list of the day according to what I viewed as I glanced over his shoulder, but of course it was like: Left Ski Track, Spider Line, Hot Rocks, maybe Baby Apes, The Beave and so forth.
(Told me he lost those records in the Foresta fire)
|
|
Russ Walling
Gym climber
Poofter's Froth, Wyoming
|
|
|
Jul 11, 2009 - 01:27am PT
|
Some of his "art" lives on..... ho-man... that whole deal was some funny stuff. He had talent!
|
|
Tarbuster
climber
right here, right now
|
|
|
Jul 11, 2009 - 01:29am PT
|
Zippy the Pinhead 'toons.
Among the finest works ever scribed.
|
|
Tarbuster
climber
right here, right now
|
|
|
Jul 11, 2009 - 01:37am PT
|
Someone is blowing a mean sax just now.
Coming right up through my kitchen window from a few blocks down town.
|
|
Mark Rodell
Trad climber
Bangkok
|
|
|
Jul 11, 2009 - 08:19am PT
|
This is a good thread because it talks of effects and effects speak of influence.
I had the luck to work in Nepal and on off weeks trek in the mountains. After a short bit I met up with a sherpa guide with whom I did a lot of hard walks.
We were walking in the Helambu region and after a week of walking were ready to return to Kathmandu. At the creast of a pass there was a ridge line that took off to the north. There was somewhat of a peak before the ridge fell into the canyon below. Pasang, my guide, said right away, "Let's go up there."
I was a bit reluctant. My wife of the time had taken the easy way down the trail and it was near noon. Pasang's proposal looked long. We had full packs and no climbing gear but it did look cool. I too wanted to see what we would see from there.
Okay, I said and we were off. To get to the summit we'd had to get up a series of blocks. No big deal. The first three hundred meters went easy, forth class. But just before we could crest the ridgeline, the easy scrambling stopped. We were in a alcove that you could fit a lazy-boy chair. Above was block that overhung so we would have to go out onto the face. The exposure was tough. There were features on the face and there was a gap to jam. I could tell, 5.8. But I did not want to commit. Pasang was worried too, said, "Let's try another way." But I knew there was no other way really. It was go, or down.
We messed about a bit but in my mind I knew I was at a cross roads. Too often I had retreated only to hate myself later.
A picture, an idea of Bacher mixed with Kaulk came to mind. Somehow, I knew I could gut it up, get up those twenty feet, just twenty feet and we be there, on the ridgetop.
I lead off with On the Lamb in mind. It was no big deal. The knob on the face was big enough. The gap between the block and face did afford a jam.
Pasang needed me to throw down an aid; I took out my sleeping bag and with a water bottle in the foot sack, he clung a tad and made it up.
We got to a nothing summit and followed an easy way down and met up with the trail two hours later.
The inspiration?
JB and the pictures of him doing it. Kaulk, doing what was known to be in their realm of doing.
Fear. Thank you to the leaders for helping me start to deal with my fears.
|
|
east side underground
Trad climber
Hilton crk,ca
|
|
|
Jul 11, 2009 - 11:37am PT
|
Had fun/inspirational days riding powder with John on the mountiain. It was cool in that it was just, fun, seeing him smile, at ease, just enjoying the moment, riding, not under the scrutiny of being BACHAR the icon, the heavy. Just another bro shredding the fluff.
|
|
E
Social climber
Tujunga CA.
|
|
|
Jul 13, 2009 - 10:45pm PT
|
Here's one
I was lucky enough to purchase from John one of the first pairs of Fires that the Soul Survivor company got.
I had been working on Blue Suede Shoes but had'nt been able to do it.
Put on the shoes and smoothed it first try that day.
When I told John he got a big smile on his face and said something like "see dude?"
Erik
|
|
Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
|
|
|
Jul 14, 2009 - 05:48pm PT
|
I really liked Mimi's idea, I've been on the lookout for the right looking tiny manequin of the right size. It's been too long since I've climbed Gripper.
|
|
LongAgo
Trad climber
|
|
|
Jul 14, 2009 - 06:50pm PT
|
Honoring John's Memory
On another thread on the Bachar-Yerian, I said in part "... I have no words for the death of John, only immense sadness and, now, concern for his son especially and hope there will be a fund or other mechanism so we who stood in awe can take some small positive action in line with our admiration for John, though any such action will hardly stand against the dismay and grief."
Perhaps I missed it on a thread, but any word on whether his family and/or friends are setting up a fund in memory of John for either his son or for works or services John would want supported, or perhaps for a memorial plaque or book or something in his honor?
Tom Higgins
LongAgo
|
|
James
climber
My twin brother's laundry room
|
|
|
Jul 14, 2009 - 07:26pm PT
|
I held the rope nervously as a man twice my age with four times my courage ascended the runout face climb.
John Bachar moved with a delicate grace. His feet transitioned smoothly onto each rugosity of Hammer Dome's classic 5.10c Shadow of Doubt. At each bolt, he stopped, leaned into the wall and mimicked the stance that he would take if he had been the first ascentionist hand drilling the route on lead. John climbed the route with a casualness and poise I had never seen.
On Sunday, July 5, while climbing on the Dike Wall in Mammoth, John fell. It is unknown what caused his fall or where exactly on the wall he was. John laid in a pool of his blood, breathing but unconscious. The rescue team moved as quickly as possible, carrying him across a boulder field to a nearby lake, where they loaded him into a motorboat and brought him to Mammoth Hospital. John died in the hospital, due to the severity of his injuries.
John Coltrane belted into a funky solo on his sax as John scrolled through his slideshow and dozens of photos of soloing in Joshua Tree. There was John bouldering on Up 40, sticking it out on the line on More Funky then Monkey, and being cool and composed on Father Figure. Hearing the voice of Johnny Rock describe soloing touched me. He spoke about slow warm ups, about taking a fresh approach to soloing everyday. Cool and calculated emotions controlled his ropeless climbing; when he felt off or insecure in his movement he simply stopped. Soloing was an integral part of the climbing experience.
A few days after John’s slide show, I found myself at the base of Joshua Tree’s North Overhang on Intersection Rock. Four and a half years earlier, I fell from the top of the formation while free soloing. My body flew seventy feet before hitting a ledge. I rolled off and fell another thirty feet to the ground. I laid in a pool of my own blood. It was a lonely place. I had 8 surgeries, spent 81 days in the hospital, and returned to climbing 381 days later. John inspired me to return.
The four-runner bumped, shaking its black frame side to side, as Public Enemy belted heavy, old-school beats. The SUV parked on the side of 120 between Tenaya Lake and Tuolumne Meadows. The bass kept booming as John, Lucho, Linh, and I fell out of John’s rig.
We marched a long thirty minutes to South Whizz Dome, wheezing from the high altitude of Tuolumne. We skirted a small marsh, then hit a small slope of granite. Just around the corner from the start of the dome came the wall- a hundred fifty feet of technical steep edges and knobs. Kurt Smith and John established many of the hard, run-out, ground-up test pieces. John made the first ascent, on top rope, of a beautiful black streak in the middle of the wall. From a ledge sixty feet off the ground, Blackout follows a series of walnut knobs for sixty feet. Kurt onsighted the route, drilling two bolts on the lead, snagging the first lead ascent, and solidifying the 5.11 route as a serious undertaking. The route with its old bolts, and scary old-school vertical climbing is the definition of a “museum climb.” John flaked out the rope, grabbed two quick draws, and a couple of cams.
After fifteen feet of delicate climbing, John clipped a quarter inch rusty bolt. Another twenty feet passed before John clipped another rusty quarter incher. He moved slowly, placing his feet, shifting his hips, and transferring his weight onto the overhanging knobs with the elegancy of a ballet dancer and the funk of Flavor Flav. He danced his way, unprotected for thirty feet, to the top.
A few years prior, John crashed his car while driving back from the Outdoor Retailer show in Salt Lake City. The vertebrae in his spine were fused and he had limited mobility in his neck. We talked extensively about recovery, about the best ways to deal with trauma, and return to climbing. John told me my recovery was impressive. “You’re one of my heroes,” he said. Watching John climb Blackout, to fight through his own injuries and remain bold, made the metal in my spine become a little more pliable.
I free soloed the North Overhang. It was a cathartic experience for me. If I had fallen again, I would have wanted to die. Trying to fight through the pain would have killed me-if not physically, then emotionally and mentally. John’s candid talk about soloing invigorated me, and reminded me how precious those ropeless moments are. His talk planted a seed in my mind to return to Joshua Tree.
A week before he died, we talked about meeting up this summer to climb some more scary routes in the meadows. I wanted a ropegun and John’s passion for climbing was insatiable. He wanted to get his granite legs underneath him before heading to the meadows. John always climbed so solidly. It pains me to think of him falling. John was a legend. A man made immortal not just by his deeds but by who he was. He will be missed.
|
|
WBraun
climber
|
|
|
Jul 14, 2009 - 08:47pm PT
|
Awesome post James, just awesome ......
|
|
Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
|
|
|
Jul 14, 2009 - 10:03pm PT
|
Beautiful, James. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us. With your writing skills, they are always so clear that they hardly seem like words.
http://jamesclucas.blogspot.com/
|
|
T2
climber
Cardiff by the sea
|
|
|
Jul 14, 2009 - 11:11pm PT
|
One of the finist post's I have read here at the supertopo James. Inspiring and touching to say the least.
Thanks for you post! This is the stuff that makes the taco stand worthy.
|
|
yosemitemtb
Social climber
Mariposa
|
|
|
Jul 15, 2009 - 12:56am PT
|
Wow, thanks for sharing James.
|
|
Brunosafari
Boulder climber
OR
|
|
|
Jul 15, 2009 - 01:17am PT
|
That's a home run, James, and so are you!
|
|
Fogarty
climber
Back in time..
|
|
|
Jul 15, 2009 - 01:21am PT
|
JB, Bump!!!!
|
|
Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
|
|
|
Jul 15, 2009 - 01:22am PT
|
When you're on, you're amazing, James, thank you very much!
|
|
Fogarty
climber
Back in time..
|
|
|
Jul 15, 2009 - 01:44am PT
|
James WOW, North over hang < way to get back on that horse and send that ROOF, I almst jumped of pinched rib onsight solo back in 83, but that guy watusi told me to moe ore die! my thoughts of the courage you had to have and the gift of a mentor (JB). AWSOME BUMP,BUMP!
|
|
Crag
Trad climber
Pennsyltuckey
|
|
|
Jul 15, 2009 - 07:59am PT
|
a bump for JB & James.
Love your blog James.
|
|
shipoopoi
Big Wall climber
oakland
|
|
|
Jul 25, 2009 - 04:31am PT
|
i happened to go to college at chico state university, where, in my sophmore year, i met brenda lugo, a climber from puerto rico. we became friends, and when she introduced me to her boyfriend, it was freaking john bachar. i had first met john in joshua tree while two of my friends and i were projecting bearded cabbage. john arrivesd on scene, gym socks, tight shorts and all and says to us.......mind if i boog on up? we were like, go for it, right on, live it up. john proceeds to hike the 10c like hes drinking his first sips of coffee. i copy his sequence, boog on up myself, and watch him santer off toward the left ski track.
in chico, john and i became friends, and even got out to the crags a bit. climbing with john for a day at sugarloaf, he picked through gear to lead a 5.10 on sugarbun. he picks out three stoppers for the 60 foot climb. i'm like, "that's it", and he's like, "man, if i got a stopper within 15 feet of me i'm pretty comfortable." so he goes and floats it with a couple of stoppers. later that day, we are on the grand illusion, throwing ourselves at what is literally the hardest route in the world at that time. and he's like belaying me, and cheering me on, and pushing me, it was so awesome. yaniro had done this 13c the year before in 78, and we both came away pretty impressed.
Bachar was no less than a climbing god to me, and i could never really fathom the amount of head control it took to do what he did, day in and day out. in trying to repeat some of his scariest routes BITD, i realize we were no less than disciples of his, emulating his style of control by running out routes ridiculously. thank god we got a clue around 1990 and starting bolting things properly, or tuolumne would be only horrorshows now.
so, that was just the start of a robust relationship with johnny rock, who took me under his wing while i was young, and gave me the gift of the purest ethics i know, and who encouraged me to practice my own gifts among the knobs of tuolumne. thanks john, those were rad times. ciao for now, steve
|
|
|
SuperTopo on the Web
|
Let us know!