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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 13, 2014 - 11:38am PT
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Hey, Miss Civility and I had a good thing, for a few months. Then...
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Actually, today is gonna be a beautiful one--Look out the winders, fer shitsake. It's springtime!
Ayshegul Erk, from Ankara, Turkey, is meeting me for lunch at one.
Meanwhile, underneath the bridge, some Trolls are having their fun with me...
It seems I have a serious problem with my Canon EOS Rebel T3. It is not able to deliver JPG images to my computer, only CR2 images (Canon RAW images) only. I have no clue, as the gargle on the internet is too garbled and no one here in Merced has a camera shop anymore to guide me through this pitiable condition.
This is serious, and I NEED HELP, or this could be a long dry spell for me. I may end up repeating some shots from the past, unwittingly. Bear with me, Campers and Climbers.
I may end up having to BUY Adobe Photoshop, and who knows what that will lead to? Cosmic Debris? Locker JAW?
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 14, 2014 - 03:03am PT
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[Click to View YouTube Video]
Hey, I want to tell you, that running into Ayshegul was like the sweete breeth of spring, as Chaucer might could say.
It ran like this.
I waited at the Bistro reading Gide and watching for foreign-looking gals.
I drank decaf and read how the Pope was imprisoned by the Freemasons.
Then a lady approached up the walk towards the fountain who looked like and was, Ayshe. She had a yellow bag.
We exchanged hugs, gifts, small talk, and had some lunch.
We went for the 'native' guided stroll of downtown.
We stopped into Second Time Around. We stopped into Reinero's Trophy Room. We saw elk, moose, deer, and bears and Dall sheep. And then we went to the Tioga.
It was the most spectacularly clear day I have witnessed yet this year.
There was a vista extending way down past Fresno, peaks and ridges all just clear. Oh, for a good lens and tripod, it was killer.
Ayshegul reminded me that her Turkey is blessed with similar beauty, the desert and the peaks and the vistas. We took a few breathing minutes at my place in Middle Earth. We then made our way to The Courthouse.
Well, we had twenty minutes to see what we could, and she was lucky to have a qualified guide. I ran her through to the new exhibit in under fifteen and then we ran into Herb Wood.
He is the accession coordinator and helps with the exhibits. It was nice that he and Ayshe interacted. She'll remember that. The Cunningham art was displayed on the walls, and it was superb.
When we left, we took the route through the Courthouse Park that went through the Vet's memorials. Then we toured the lodges, the Elks, the Masons, and the Oddfellows.
We met her daughter at fivish and they gave me a lift to the hotel, then we bid adieu. It was very enjoyable, and I have no pix. Sorry.
I got home and packed up an album of Orvis fly patterns and a binder of maps and several topos of vintage and went back to the Pub. I met Derek DAley there and gave him the goods for being so decent to me at the Range of Light festival. And his lady CArolyn is a packer, so she'll enjoy those maps, too.
All in all, a nice old afternoon and night. Fifty-four degrees or fight. Balmy spring night, but a bit on the chill side.
I went over to Gabe's Tavern, after saying goodnight to Derek. It was Gabe's wake and there was a FULL HOUSE and almost a FULL MOON, so...
I had a shortie and then split.
I was eager to read this article in the Downtown Life Mag (DLM).
I have known Andy a long time. He is my kinda people. His brother Marco, as well, though I've only just met him this year.
Laguna IS a bar-fly and a Bukowski-like, a Mickey Rourke-ian, a real alky.
He dried out in Texas last fall, then made it back to the land of sunshine and Tioga-Sequoia and hasn't stopped consuming, but at a much mellower rate, by my reckoning. We are in agreement on many things. We love the Rolling STones, porter, and blonde beers like Half Dome.
I only got mildly intoxicated, mind you. I was riding a bike. I know how it goes if you get beyond a point.
As it's almost a full moon, so just as to make it right, my sis called tonight to see if I was all right. I said, Is that your phone, Derek? He said, No, it's yours.
And that's how I got my first cell phone call in public. I lost my "status" as whatever I was before. I feel no different, it's just one of those moments in life that only happen once. Like this scene...[Click to View YouTube Video]
HAPPY ST. PADDY'S DAY!!!!!
It's early, but if I have my way I won't be here then, just as I'm still not there yet. It helps if yur Gemini if yur me.[Click to View YouTube Video]
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Mar 15, 2014 - 12:33am PT
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Went thru the border patrol (or is it homeland security?) checkpoint on highway 94 this evening.
Dude says "where you from?" sezI "you talkin' to me SA?"
I can report, however, that the southern section of the Pacific Crest Trail is in tact.
Pacific Crest Southern Terminus Log
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Mar 15, 2014 - 10:16pm PT
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Well after seeing that show, I can tell a few things:
1) I need me one of the V DEE EO cameras and a backup band
2) I think we were underdressed and supplied for our excursion
3) I need me a pistola (as the rangers say R U Packin')?
4) I usually see rattlesnakes only when looking at someone else's photos
That "I" is actually "We" including the ever-present Michele
The detour off the PCT to Morena Butte is steep and windy. Some have called the trail sketchy and/or non-existent at times. Windy too.
EDIT: Oh yeah, a portrero, is nothing more than a fancy Spanish name for a place for cows to eat.
EDIT-OT: Has anyone seen my Coleman stove and lantern? I can't for the life of me (or anyone else I suppose) figure out what became of them.
The stove looks something like this/.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 16, 2014 - 07:55am PT
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Hah! Z missing stove! But of course!
So go camping on the full moon, mon.That's "PO-trero," not "POR-trero," Senor zMon.
[Click to View YouTube Video]Easy, Rider. Got drums? Got flying dreams?
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 16, 2014 - 08:23am PT
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DAY TRIPPIN', yeah.
I woke up feeling like a million bucks. Just go and get on the bus, Gus.
So I did. I met John Decker, from Upper Middle Earth in the elevator, with his bike, heading for the ten o'clock YARTS to the Valley, also.
We separated at the Lodge, he to Fern Spring and wherever, and I to the meadows, not having his fitness and respecting his nature, which is the Lone Wolf thing. I'm the Lone Mouse, so it's all good.
So, this Day Trip is really a solo climb from Merced in the classic mode.
Approach.
I went and coffeed up in the Caf--the Food Court, pardon me, for it was time for a brew-up.
Then I biked over the Swinging Bridge, which is no longer a swinger, and locked it to a picnic table and went downstream on the Southside Riverside Trail.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 16, 2014 - 09:04am PT
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The Route.
The Southside Riverside Trail—the shortest distance from Yellow Pines to the Lodge for walking nature lovers not in a rush.
FishFinder's Facelift buddies clued me in to this trail, mentioning beaver sign.
Yosemite was created a National Park on October 1, 1890. Each year between 1891 and 1913, the War Department sent troops of cavalry into Yosemite National Park on patrol duty. Sequoia and Yellowstone Parks also received military protection.
The Army Officer in charge acted as the Superintendent of the Park. The troops would arrive in May and leave about October, returning to the Presidio of San Francisco. Captain A. E. Wood was in Command of the first Troops assigned to Yosemite. Captain Wood, in command of two Troops of Cavalry, Companies I and K arrived in Yosemite May 19, 1891, and set up camp at Wawona.
During the Spanish American War in 1898 the U.S. Troops assigned to Yosemite were recalled to the Presidio. The protection of the Parks, until the Troops could again assume their duties, was assigned to the General Land Office of the U.S. Department of the Interior. A Special Land Inspector was made Acting Superintendent of three Parks. He employed assistant forest agents during the summer to eject sheep trespass and fight forest fires. The General Land Office therefore became involved in the early administration of both the National Parks and the Forest Reserves in California.
By June 25, 1898, Special Inspector J. W. Zevely of the General Land Office had hired eleven men from the Yosemite region and these men were assigned to two special agents. Special Agent A. W. Buick was in charge of five men: The men were, Archie C. Leonard, George R. Byde, Henry A. Skelton, Charles A. Leidig, Arthur L. Thurman, and they took over the northern part of Yosemite. Special Agent Cullom was given six men: George G. MacKenzie, Thomas S. Carter, David Lackton, Darwin S. Lewis, Joel J. Westfall, Joseph R. Borden, and this group were assigned to the southern part of Yosemite.
Both groups were well armed and mounted and they were constantly in the field expelling sheep trespass, fighting forest fires and arresting all those with fire arms. During the period from June 25th until September lst they reported they had expelled from the Park 189,000 head of sheep, 350 head of horses, 1,000 head of cattle, and confiscated 27 fire arms. These men made up the first civilian protection force for the Yosemite National Park.
The U.S. Troops returned to the Park on August 25, 1898, and the Forest Agents were relieved of their duties.
In September 1898 the Acting Superintendent received authorization to appoint Forest Rangers at fifty dollars a month for temporary service. These men were to assist the Troops on their patrols. Two of the forest agents, Archie Leonard and Charles Ledig were hired that September. In the late fall when the Troops were preparing to leave Yosemite it was recommended that the two forest agents be kept on for the winter to protect the Park. This was authorized and they remained on as rangers for many years.
And with that, I took off for the bus stop, not knowing they were already departing.
Edit: I don't know what happened to the text. Do you care? I am too tired to fix it.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 16, 2014 - 09:22am PT
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Descent.
Home again, home again, jiggity-jig.
There is much joy in retelling adventures, packing, climbing, or day tripping.
I appreciate my audience.
Have a nice pleasant Sunday.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 16, 2014 - 05:28pm PT
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A package came to the office downstairs, so I had a note in my mailbox from Saturday, which I hadn't checked till this morning.
The night manager, Shelly, came down and got it for me.
This is the cargo, after I got it all un-taped.
It came through just fine as can be, neebee.
Amy's THE Niece, and I'm the Uncle with No Wrinkled Brow.
I was wearing the same dang sweater, as Shelly pointed out. :0)
I am too bereft of words...NOT!!
But BIG T.HANKS are yours from myself and my family.
Remember the movie BIG, where Tom is a kid in a grown-up's body?
[Click to View YouTube Video]neebee's a dancer, and don't you also "pianicize?"
The saddest part of all of this, and it's real heart-rending:
Amy and Adam were wed in the Yosemite Chapel, January 1, 2003;
her mother, Lenna, called the other day,
literally just hours after I had tossed out the dang picture of Adam and Amy on that day,
their wedding shot, dated;
and then Lenna related
as to how Amy had earlier in the day
called to say
that their divorce is finalized.
What more can I say
that explains "irony"
and "anti-serendipity" any better?
The likeness of Amy is just incredible, by the way.
I am no judge of my own looks, certainly, but it looks like me according to you, so that's all I need to know.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 16, 2014 - 05:34pm PT
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Recalling more T.HANKS, handsome is as handsome does.Amy is an accredited hair-cutting type like her great-grandmother Ora Belle was not. Ora Belle picked it all up from magazines and GFs and her sisters, I imagine...
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Mar 16, 2014 - 10:16pm PT
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The Portrero is where the cows without much money eat or The Potrero whose owner did not pay the water bill. It's mighty dry this year.
I have to admit to a bit of a mistake here. There are actually four peaks at the Moreno Butte, not three. So if you're not careful it's possible that you may not get the opportunity to sign the "guest" book (that's what we call it at The (Wealthy) Potrero. I know Paul Ryan used this excuse and I know Paul Ryan and I am not Paul Ryan.
When will readers here, see the mouse's version of the Airplane Crash at Lower Merced River Pass? or The Plane Wreck near Los Gatos.
You won't have a name once you ride the big airplane, all you'll be called will be de-postees.
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Mar 16, 2014 - 11:01pm PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 17, 2014 - 12:23am PT
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Ahh, BBs vs. Howitzers, eh?
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 17, 2014 - 01:49am PT
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And from our Berkeley correspondents, Throwpie and Throwpeg (who are somewhere being themselves, I hope), comes this one on his FB page.
STeven, we have you on the air...
Peg?
Anyone there?
http://sftimes.co/?id=115&src=share_fb_new_115
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Mar 17, 2014 - 10:42am PT
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If you find that stove you're looking for this will tell you how to operate it.
If you master the stove, try looking for my cigar box full of marbles, collection of Davy Crockett cards, and our set of Encyclopeida Britannica.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 17, 2014 - 11:52am PT
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"But by 1910 the desire to experiment with a new form may have been more urgent than the impulse to psychological speculation. Then Gide seemed chiefly impatient with the sober limitations of the impersonal realistic novel, and dreamed of his new book as something entirely different, written in a "merry" style.
His experiences as a juror on the Rouen Cour d'Assises in 1912 reminded him once again of the inadequacies of orthodox psychology. But the first pages of his novel are those of a writer willing to be seduced into any amusing adventure; and who will allow nothing, least of all "realism," to interfere with his fun.
The resources of absurdity have no limit, once one has divided society into the shrewd adventurers and the innocent or complacent dupes.
Lafcadio Wluki (silent W & silent I) is the speculative picaro of the tale, but the epic adventures belong to the pious and chaste Amedee Fleurissoire, who sets out from Pau to deliver the Pope-said to be imprisoned in the Castle St. Angelo, with a Freemason reigning in his stead.
Amedee (who had promised a friend and disappointed suitor never to sleep with his wife Arnica) is devoured by bedbugs in Marseilles, by fleas in Toulon, by mosquitoes in Genoa. He arrives exhausted in Rome, to make the classical error of taking a bawdy-house for a hotel, and does not feel qualified to continue on his mission until absolved by a bogus cardinal."
This is such an old paperback that the first half is now broken off from the last half, which is where I am in the tale. But now I seem to have misplaced that half.
I have a Half Tome Mystery to solve...
Seriously.
It's not funny, Tad.
And what's more, either Fleurissoire or his buddy Blafiphas once invented a machine which would weigh their marbles individually. He was a DJ Focus sort at a young age, but none of his 'inventions' were of any practical use.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 17, 2014 - 12:30pm PT
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[Click to View YouTube Video]
and really taking leave of one's marbles,
try climbing the Big F. Stone during less than eprfect conditions.
http://cheynelempe.blogspot.com/2011/01/zenyatta-mondatta-el-capitan-winter.html
It was almost forty years ago this week ('74) that DOUG ROSS-HOSS and Y.R.S. TRULY finished the Salathe in winter conditions.
Spring sprung a leak on us. Rather like the way Cheyne got dumped on at the top of Z.M.
We did it more cheaply, but took longer.
I delighted in the wind's force up there more than anything.
Our haul line was like a sail, the wind pulling it WAY out to the right, nearly forming a right angle at times. We would have to high-step in hero loops balancing against it, leaning into the wind, reaching for the next placement; then we'd hammer it home and try to fix a hero on it and keep our slings pulled down so we could step into them. I put a tether on mine so that I could let it fall, if need be, and not lose it, just to be safe.
It was all a lot of extra work but not all that cold, as I recall. This windstorm happened on day five, on the Headwall. It started snowing that afternoon as we got to the bivvy ledge and the wind was mitigated by that ledge, a little fortress in the wild blue.
The clouds would blow across our field of vision from right to left as we faced out into the void. It was still light, so I fixed a pitch and we were glad we did, because it took us forever to get up the next few pitches by noon and off, into a foot and a half of snow across the summit.
"It was definitely a sweet route, but I don't think I'll ever climb it again."--Cheyne Lempe
You never forget this kind of thing, and I can't express how glad I am to still be here remembering.
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