Discussion Topic |
|
This thread has been locked |
zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
|
|
5.3 miles up - > 5.3 miles down - > levation gain 623 ft/mile. Six border patrol vehicles. Two groups of shooters.
That's about about it.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 10, 2014 - 05:50am PT
|
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Just the other night a hometown football game
My wife and I ran into my old high school flame
And as I introduced them the past came back to me
And I couldn't help but think of the way things used to be
She was the one that I'd wanted for all times
And each night I'd spend prayin' that God would make her mine
And if he'd only grant me this wish I wished back then
I'd never ask for anything again
Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers
Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs
That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care
Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers
She wasn't quite the angel that I remembered in my dreams
And I could tell that time had changed me
In her eyes too it seemed
We tried to talk about the old days
There wasn't much we could recall
I guess the Lord knows what he's doin' after all
And as she walked away and I looked at my wife
And then and there I thanked the good Lord
For the gifts in my life
Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers
Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs
That just because he may not answer doesn't mean he don't care
Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered
Some of God's greatest gifts are all too often unanswered...
Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers
Cowboy Lyrics are so sweet, eh?
Cow eyes will do that to YOU, young man, so go west.
Watch out for flying monkeys coming out of that direction, Winston.
Well, StTones, that will certainly only happen when pigs start flying as well, what? More cocoa?
Fly meece to the moon.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
|
|
neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
|
|
|
Feb 10, 2014 - 06:32am PT
|
hey there say, mouse... very nice shots of yosemite... and thanks for the info on the cabin, and all those things... things i'd not know...
say, timid:
Feb 6, 2014 - 08:09am PT
I remember hanging out with my boystown roommate at Shirley's Flying Spur Ranch in 1977. My roommate's parents were good friends with her. Too bad the original place burnt up in the Foresta fire of 1990 along with most of her historical archives.
Dean Potter lived there for many years until a relative of Shirley's moved in. It gets complicated after that and best left off the internet.
very nice share!
mouse, thanks for bring this to our attention for this share to
come forth! more things i'd not know of yosemite...
:)
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 10, 2014 - 08:01am PT
|
I never bin ta church. I got a church key, though.
I always had some dough cuz I work real hard, but who cares on Friday after work?[Click to View YouTube Video]I am settled on having settled here. Thank god for Dad's job, Mom's love, and the edumacation, if there is one.
I can find Chula Vista blind-folded, see?
I'd like to case this place, si, mon?
http://www.spotcrime.com/crime/39907510-fb5103c51b04edb9ed43557c138765a7
I think that it would be criminal never to have gone to the earthly paradise, the garden spot.
Mojo trundle, anybody?
Lookit the size of that turkey, 120 lbs. or 8.57143 stone.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Off the same spot we dropped the chicken on the Captain, remember that caper?
http://www.supertopo.com/climbers-forum/1843581/el-cap-chicken-toss
[Click to View YouTube Video]Converting watermelon to stone should be fun and educational, both, right?--Slow Mo Joe
I's only lookin', Mistery Dreamer, please don't shoot me down. That was a bad joke from the down-filling booth at The North Face, way, way back.
Before even this.[Click to View YouTube Video]
There is no need to explain this. It is inexplicable, hexed, and you know what?
Chicken butt.
|
|
zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
|
|
|
Feb 10, 2014 - 10:21am PT
|
The word "Otay" is apparently derived from the Kumeyaay word "otai" (pronounced "Oh-Tie" - though Buckwheat my dispute this), meaning brushy.
Say, for example, I had an Otay with the law, and the law won.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 11, 2014 - 01:19am PT
|
What was that, WonsLaw?
I said, Old Folks, that I had a sister-in-law's cousin who lived in Ohai, Ventura County. She was a lady, but the fact is that she worked pipeline construction gangs on Ventura, the Miracle Mile for the "ol' bidness."--her words, old fart, and she had such quaint language, believe me. But she knew how to dance and the waltz was her forvorite, like in Matilda, the Ozzie Anthem?
I play it all the time, you know that.
I do indeed.
Ohio, IL, knows Ojai. There are such things in the Midwest called snowbirds.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ohio,_Illinois
Ohio, IL., has a Desert Wildflowers Museum.
BELIEVE IT OR SEE SEYMOUR KNOTS!
(He's the Director, a county employee, and his office is in the rear of what he called the Lotus Flower Silo Room. He climbs a decent grade, and has hair on his rack. He's a tranny.) Free peyote buttons, good-looking secretary, tastes like chicken because she is, and TWO PHONE LINES! Who could ask for a mo' better gig?)
A note on the so-called "sport" of chicken-tossing from Seymour's chick, Matilda the Honey--
It may have been fun for you. Not for me. Did you come first? I didn't st all, and in fact, my lawyer, Bently the Bender of wills, will be in touch. Unlike we.
Matilda, your Tiny Dancer
P.S.--f.u. i hope you can read norwegian abbrs. well i can and i know a guy who loves road-house island redheads, or so he says, up in strawberry.
i hope you marry a dyke, azz-wipe.
By the way, today I was playing the Fool by WSM...I mean, QSM, see...
Always, always, the buffoon, aren't you, whoever you are. Out of character, there, but that quick-change maneuver was mind-blowingly fast, man! And you are now, as I perceive you, a bum, a derelict, a street person. And you have a tic, s slight one, but it's detectable and effective. I turned away, in fact. What a consummate actor you are you remind me of...of...Yosemite Sam! Indeed!
I wish heartily to say the same of you as an author, one day, WasNot.
Thank you and Gracias, Amigonite. Rock on!
Wait, Wassail, uh, no, don't. Come, in fact, and come fastly, adverbishly quickly, please! Come to the rear of the building, by the route we British-Mexican-Americans know as Calle Securidado, Safe STreet. Meet me in two minutes.
I've never done it in more than one minute and three-quarters. What have you for me to see. Bozolito? By the way, how did you achieve that skin tone?
It's called El Cap Hotel A/C, and it is derived from an exorbitantly expensive virietal of Alaskan Thunderflash/Thicke in the Middle.
You shall see, Schwinnson. I have a spliff or two here in my serape/hoodie pocket, I'm sure. Do not delay, for I must away.
Who? What?
Poodles! French-Canadian Poodles, man! GO!
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 11, 2014 - 02:22am PT
|
for your approval, allya Fools.[Click to View YouTube Video]It was a beautifilled day.
Hippies' vibes to everyone who ever felt the fool about where he got, u no, planted.
QSM, to me, the rock rolling kid from Merdead, is faster than the rest, better tuned in to actual VIBES, than any of the rest of the San Farcisco Sound that Died because they refused to heed that strange sequence of vibratory knowledge of trusting one another.
Sad as a glass of whine alone, but Mick started that line of thought, because much in life saddens, not just lonely boozin'.
It has been an interesting weak in Lake Wosemite.
I may take a few to post these shots.
As they said when they raided us one night, during the Faux 4 Yosemite Bears Raid of '71, a cold January night, in Camp 4, in Yosemite, in fact,
"be cool, fool. just need a sugar fix. chill, comrades. 4 of u, 4 of us. en francais, detente. we have dependents. they can't live on acorns and weeds and the ants are all on strike. we are starving."
this was a tragedy. we placed our hammers next to their ancestor's sickles. we smoked and made peace.
They were a rogue soviet (they claimed to have won the last election) of cinnamon bears from Kyburst-on-Rubicon, a seldom-visited enclave of wild excess, reputedly, but this was great exaggeration, we NEEC vodka! like u climbers need that keystone swill. they all spoke norwegian, but i know the lingo, and we had some vibes among us, believe it or nyet.
i heard things from them i'll never tell u. ever, ever, ever.
we all blamed nixon.
//blood oath, red as rum, twice a blinding,
as a quick turn on silvretta binding//
that's bullsh#t. nobody understands that factor.
AND BESIDES, AS A MATTER OF FACT,
smokey the duck, chongo, chickentpisser. yeah, theyr'e cool in many langridges, but the duck, he's gonna die, chongo, he's gonna go even further underground, and chickenslammer, well, he's got facial tics coming on.
all i gotta say.
EXCEPT,
i can do better to communicate my feelings, my experience with the powerful vibes from this day.
In English, Fools.
Loving lovers.
Tumbling walls.
Mind in guage.
One small part of one world.
One truth.
Heavens, Mouse?
Yes, Love.
Life is
What you make it.
Turn around.
Let's back down.
I'm still young and out of the Navy.
The world is full of vibes.
This place hasn't really changed that much since...
It's still got me and the ghosts of younger mice tripping around,
looking for the Rev or the hell of it.
It was mainly hot or cold, no in betweens.
A plain-Jane town like Redding, from which we came to Sacto and then to Merced City.
I arrived at the SP depot on Old Highway 99.
Throwpie and the Rev had lived here there hole-in-the-wall lives in '61, three years after the Big STone, El Capitan, was legitimized, as I see it.
It was just a big rock in a place I heard of in a story I read in a book they gave us in fourth grade and I mispronounced the word, Yosemite, as "YO-sa-might."
I am a fast learner.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 11, 2014 - 02:46am PT
|
Nunya R. Fools, patron saint of paint dryin', sez,
don't act like a fool unless you want to, otay?
another dead drunk dame, she is, long ago in the wise age
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 11, 2014 - 04:19am PT
|
Otay. Open your eyes.
Psychomedelic Journey/CD by QSM, nize stuv
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpx5pM7Ck8o&list=ALBTKoXRg38BDrAnjEFKN5JT-HANiesDHG
mice stuve.
Ohio, no. Merced, yes.
The rain fell, I was not sleeping, did not hear it, tho.
I knew I should go and get on the roof. I climbed the fire escape and it was immediately apparent I was in a special presence.
WhetherGod.
He actually exists!
there can fbe no drought idf there be no doubtt
this is literal word-for-word lingo, a branch of norwegian dialectic he was spakin' 'neath his huge mustache--no beard, just the stache.
here is what he said
NUMBAH SIXTY-ONE
It's been so long...
I sure had fun, fine fun...
It's been too long...
Lover.
Hey, hey, hey, hey. (guitar riff)
Oh whoa, whoa, whoa yeah...
Lover.
TOOLONG!
My problem, sorry.
Open your eyes. Light all your windows. Golden sparks.
Just lies.
Old Sol.
That is a good Mex standard por cervezsa. the russki bears love to brew, BTW, or as they say in the Rube, "В Вт". It's the bearlink dialect, imowue, in that same lingo.
There is a secret under-ground-hog bearish conclave, not an elected body or soviet, made of cousins and Costco Mi-Whacks living in and near sebastopolitco off of the Redwood Parkway. They live like they are poor, but we think they have honey-money. Mo' later. as el DeeHAYTHERE gathers his "Park Narca Nationals" and raids Middle Earth.
Frequent Spy Achievement, next installation, soon, this pace, slowly turning at the top of Lower Yosemite Fall.
That is SOME drop. Pod, let's go the other way.
That leads us back to Ohio, Patty. You are getting too into your part, man. It is just we two. Speak the English, por favor.
No, it would be towards Ohai, old boy.
Ta-ta, I'm going to have some coffee, it's only 5.2+. or so it appears to me.
Ah, wait. I'm rather broke. My "Royaties" are in the mail, or so my Modesto agent tells me. Are your buying, sir?
Sorry, planned on scarfing a cup.
No sh#t. Surely.
You jest.
Shirley, anyway.
Well, of course it's my treat. I know Mr. Shirley. An old friend of Mouse in Merced. In fact, I know his nemesis, TBird, who has a lovely male voice, in my HUMBLE opinion. But then, I am right exactly 99.65% of the time. It's fun to treat. It makes me feel good, like good old cocoa, and you get to feel goo, tood. I wonder if there is more cocoa, Wisdom?
WE ARE THE FBI> SEND MONEY TO BAREASSBEARLIES.com ifyouwanta/BeyondWatch?HMFkit/BBC/moundhows
Cash, check, money order. Pay to GIRL SCOUT BAKING COOK-OFF, please.
Thank you.
The Ladder Day Bastion of Drivelity, Deviltry, and Civility Network.
LDBDDC&N.
I blame Harding.
And the Christian Brothers of ST. Mary's in Moraga, Dog on ya.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 11, 2014 - 05:55am PT
|
Pointlessly needling climbers does no earthly good, Blondie.
[Click to View YouTube Video]Ai, rubio! ¿Te estás divirtiendo todavía?
Whatever they are, they have a garden and a Bic pen and a green sucker in their lobby, the hydrant.
If I can't have her, don't want no one at all.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
My Angel on the Wing.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 11, 2014 - 06:18am PT
|
[Click to View YouTube Video]Nobody singa?
but Shelley the cleaning lady/poet is living there now. And she has TWO Uip-Uip dogs, vicious bastards. Don't mess with Shells.
Vibrations...heed'em.
We all need'em, good and bad and drooly.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 11, 2014 - 06:27am PT
|
All rock is best listened to at full volume.--Simple Simon[Click to View YouTube Video]Rock for all ages.
Embrace your love.
Never let go.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 11, 2014 - 06:38am PT
|
Look da fug out!
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 11, 2014 - 07:26am PT
|
Mometase, Asmanex inhaler, one shot, twice a day.
Lisinopril, one tab daily for BP.
Hydrochlorothozide, Same.
Warfarin, 5 mg, one tab per day.
Digoxin (Lanoxin) one tab, .25 mg., daily.
Prednisone, steroid, one tab 2 x daily. With food.
Albuterol inhaler, 'as needed.'
Soon to come, CobiVent albuterol plus. 4 x daily.
And one half-tab of Simvastatin at bedtime.
And one kiss on the forehead, daily, if you can get it.
That's what OM talkin' about. Drugs.
Plus chondroitin, Tylenol, and lots of water and booze.
How can you lose?
Don't forget safety meetings...the benefits of expensive expectorants.
Strip costing erroddities, please.
It's a short ride on the bus.
One ticket, tround rip.
Hos for YosW
Adios, amigos.
Planada, here I pass thee by.
Just gotta cuz I can, still, Whymper.
You old dudes knew....
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 12, 2014 - 11:17pm PT
|
For a Deer Friend Who Is Going to Die and GO TO HELL--at least according to some, for trying to make a decent living and to defend a way of life and death he loves and respects--and so I wrote this to poke fun at him and laugh and show how NOT a big deal all the blood shed in the name of "sports," with regard to "animal rightists" and "vurmints" in general, who overreact greatly and should just stfu and live and let live, so to speak; and it's not much but it's how I felt when I wrote it and I've pretty much felt like this my entire life
Oh, Dear Bambi,
What caliber of man it takes to take you, the Prince of the Forest.
A hungry one.
A thirsty one.
A bloodthirsty one.
A dead-eye.
A seeker of hide.
A real horn-dog.
One antler said to another, in a bar,
"Rack 'em, loser."
One who can call the coin toss proposition bet, "Heads or tails?"
Doug Bowman; Brett Archer; Eric Fletcher.
Amos Alonzo; Buck Meadows; L. Coe, (from Neev a Dah),
Or, Doh!, forgive me, ladies, which caliber of woman?!
Abby; Irene; Ima Sorry.
Faline--tails; Bambi's unnamed mother--Jane?
John, Valued Customer, Sir or Madam or Miss or Mister.
I hope you liked this little list here.
Skin the elk, dress the deer,
Take the horns, and have a beer.
You done good, TaxiDiver.
They're all looking at heads of the deer
And at the heads on their beers
At Miller's Reinero's on Main
Where drunks and dead deer
Never feel that much pain
They have Buckhorn and Moosehead
And Moosedrool and Gene said
Their taste runs similar to mine
I'm inviting those two
And inviting Ron, too,
To meet me at quarter to nine
I'll buy some rounds
Then you'll have your chance
We'll roll for the sounds
And glass eyeballs will dance
Lit by the light from the juke
We'll BS and laugh till we puke
--N. Tropy
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 13, 2014 - 05:03am PT
|
[Click to View YouTube Video][Click to View YouTube Video]Sooo, here I am, sittin' in on the karasokee lessons in the poob.
Lots and lots of younkers about, none sober enough to mind an old fart squeeee...Squeeeezin' thru to the back room, but it's closed...
I go grab the glass of PBR for two, no blasted glass, o' course.
UNO, I sat next to the darling, Miss Valdez and her boyo, the artist who done my mug in Snelling this weekend.
I gave her a couple of picture postcards from Yosemite and gave her a pen. I requested another portrait, but this fizzled like a wet cake of incense in the rain, in a theological sense, but then God's no Irishman. He knows how to plan, whatever in the heck he claims to have on that side of his blanket, Mary notwithstanding, cuz she was only human.
Yes, my son, I was tossed from priest school and became a Yank.
So, if you'll forgive that lie, I'll tell ya the rest of the lie.
I found that this karlowsaki is just fine. Never been, never indulged, can't sing and don't dance much either, but it's fun. Or was.
Tonight is at the Party's On, a place I've frequently never gone into. I've gone into that before.
This karamba night is on Tuesdays, here in Merced, and no Cowboys were heard in THIS bar. And it used to be known as TRail's End. So it goes.
Decent numbers of rock and roll but one guy, a twenty-one year old (He said he was twenty-one and I I'd e-d him anyway, to his surprise) really, really, really impressed me with his selection, his aggressive style, his disdain for the screen, his disdain for the Queen (Anits, but mo' about her later) of the computer and Mikes, and his not wearing a clown outfit.
No, shiht, man, he was jammin' on Toad Hall Blues.
The Graham Greenejeans version is the only one I've heard that's better, you bet.
Who? G. Jeans. Oh, that guy.
And when he sat down, I heard someone call the name Andy. He sat RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! I was standing there next to Rob at the Door. He was sweeping the floor.
I had cheap postcards. I had a pen. I approached and met his friend, Anderzej, or Andy, or Andrew, and his other friend, Scott, who was a junior, and both the others were senior, because they were twenty-one (I chekced, officer) but he bailed to the john.
I asked him point blank to take the pen and give me his autograph on the back, would he be so kind, and to politely address the idea that he scribe ideas for Big Mike, a cat from Big C, and for my buddy Lollie overseas? She's blonde and Northern Eurpopean and he's either six ten or six eleven, he's just a tall Canadian, that's all.
He did as I bid, with speed and grace, and much sell-efface, he suggested these hit for you two Taco twits and this is how this all perchanced.
I KNEW he was gonna pick Cinnamon Girl, from the get-go!!!
But he didn't know Bjork, and he went with the flow, so, you know...a typical stupid 21-yr old American, ready to graduate UCM, don't know squat about rock history.
WTF do they teach out there in Bobcat-country? Texting?
Really bad quaint foreign (non-American) accents?
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Edit: What does it take to get "Disturbing" from a critic? Thanks for the blurbs, Droolski.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 13, 2014 - 06:12am PT
|
Pink turned to sunshine. I dropped a hit, waited a bit,
stoked my head, pink turned to red, to blue, to grey again, and then I heard this angelic...
[Click to View YouTube Video]
choir, five of them.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cliff_Richard
THE WIKISHADOE KNOWS.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Note any well-known cliff facts and get back to zBrown in the zONE, KCRS on your wrist-radio.[Click to View YouTube Video]
Even ledge to ledge, one bike to another.
Werner, HELP!!!!!
A-Otay, overnowt, mate.
Is this Werner?
Yah, mate. Werner Biju from Perth. We're on the Schnozzie.
I'm me. I need Werner Braun!
Quack! I'll get him. He's havin' a faster go at it than us. We're hauling Foster's on ice if ya can make it to Sickle.
F*#K YOU, YOUR ROO, and YOUR ROO's JOEYS! Are you stoned or just stupid?
Both, mate.
Argggn...We are f*#ked, rSin.
Doh't get me started, you...you...oooooooooooo! I could spit, but we ran out of water...two cups per day per mouse...you twitter-pated, non-planning zGit!
Now, don't go all "Disturbed" on me, or Moosie might could decide to try to sue. He's got bigger ears to the ground than we all know. He hears virtually everything, reads every single post on the Taco, and personally knows the guy who helps deliver and count the kegs for Yosemite Facelift. He's cooler than Old Bob. And all that "Secret Underground Burial Ground" stuff? It is true as our problem is critical.
Do you know the way down to Sickle from here?
No, but hum a bar or two, I might could remember.
Oh, please, try!
I think we can go by feel, but not by sight.
"Blind eyed tailless careless fearless
At evading traps you are peerless
I wish I might I wish I could
Get down to Sickle before that ice is history."
Amen, Mousie, amen, amen, amen.
Headlamps, WasserMoose.
[If I were not such a careful observer, I'd tell myself AND my followers on Twitter that that mouse is "Deliciously dangerous." But he's harmless and so forth...blag-blog...ineffectual for the most...but not hazardous to one's mental capacity. Still, though, I am a doctor. I prescribe at my own risk, but we've paid the insurance. I hope she has...]
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Feb 13, 2014 - 06:54am PT
|
[Click to View YouTube Video]
What's it all about here, Alfie?
It's a scene, dude.
I dig.
No, you are confusing groveling in the dirt with total f*#king life in the fast lane. Don't talk sh#t. Am I on belay yet, or not. It's been two minutes since we left the car.
Where is this going?
I know. I'm not confused. Just keep your cool, WastedOne.
The Toad'em Pole, II, 5.7 or 8 depending, awaits our caress.
|
|
|
SuperTopo on the Web
|
Let us know!