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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Oct 23, 2012 - 12:03am PT
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The strange thing was going out sidewalk surfing on a Friday night in the Southern California car culture.
Well hello Mr. Zog, I dropped by to pick up some sex wax
*Note OSHA recommended not eating or chewing, just rub it on your stick.
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Oct 23, 2012 - 12:35am PT
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hey there say, mousefrommerced and all you fun folks here...
thanks for all the share, a full variety here...
am enjoying seeing you all kind of
'playing tennis' here... :)
had not seen this yet--been a bit busy--so i just jump
on and off and hit only a few of the post...
happy i got to sit here a bit tonight...
will go back and see if some more of the pics have 'manefested'...
timid, give a 'hey there to nita'...
and if you see matt around, my dear brother, give him one, too...
interesting neat older pics here, too,
thanks...
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oct 23, 2012 - 12:47am PT
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I want to thank you, Walleye, for cleaning this photo of "Limber Linda" Halvorsen. she was the ideal "Flames Mama," according to the Rev.
He was in town this rainy afternoon. He stopped by after visiting Betty and Lem, his folks. He told me his mom had a fall and it wasn't too serious. I asked him did Beautiful Betty do it third-classing something and wouldn't you know it, the Synch is still as active between us two as it was in 1969.
He said she was on a bench hanging clothes on a line, a thing she's done innumerable times, when she slipped or the bench tipped. Should have had a rope, but that's so typical of how things go between the Rev and the Mouse.
Here's our prom picture, March 1965.Trust does not grow on trees. Jeff's folks live in an old, old almond orchard, nonetheless.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oct 23, 2012 - 01:33am PT
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Mammut Rope on The Line, Lover's Leap, 1976.My parents honeymonned at the Leap. Their wedding day is August 10, 1945.
Corrugated Corner P1 was my first lead there, and our first trip there was in August, 1970. Mathis, Bullfrog, and Mouse. We did Haystack and another, Bear's Reach, I guess.
A week later we were in the Bugs. Not the VW bugs, either, we were in a VW camper. Stylin' for the moss-backs! Woo-hoo!
The Yodelin' Yokels from Yose-might!
Lock up yer virgin daughters, we're not playing pranks!
We come to climb yer mountains, we're the Ca-liff-ornia Yanks!
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oct 23, 2012 - 03:34pm PT
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That trip was a success. They threw us out of the Provincial Park, we fought fire with a forestry foreman out in Edgewater, then the locals bought our beer for the rest of the week, too. And we lived through the climbing, best of all.
Coming back to Yosemite, the climbs started getting ticked.
Wan't a thing we could do but to climb and count coup.
Those climbs had no reason to get hot 'n huffy
Midterm is just so overwehelmingly stuffy.
And Entrance Exam, he thinks he's so tough he
Tried to chop our f*#king rope!
We pulled Pharaoh's Beard and avoided the curse of King Tut's tomb...
The Tilted Mitten leaned right and the Sphinxter lent us some wisdom.
We Jumped for Joy after cracking the Nutcracker, laid low after Higher Cathedral for the second time, and Facelifted Lucifer's Ledge. Some pigs should be considered less equal, truly.
Lenna's Lieback came later. Like lots later. Millis took over and it was too late to downclimb, he was a Flame and had his place in the matchbook which proclaims "success without college; knowledge without college; the School of Yosemite Rocks."
Old school. Older fool takes on younger fool and passes on his errors.
I don't think Dillis thought ladies needed to be seen on the rock. I may have him wrong. It would be old school to insist.
We sadly neglected mountaineering in favor of rock climbs only.
This was an error in mentoring. I would have gladly gone to Starr King or to some remoter S. Yo. peaks. But noooo.
BooDawg, if only we had known!
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Oct 24, 2012 - 01:42pm PT
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Oct 24, 2012 - 01:43pm PT
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and of course the motto of "De Flames" was
"ride low, cruise slow"
that was when wasn't having a rumble with De Bears...
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oct 24, 2012 - 02:31pm PT
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First and foremost, The Flames are a car club, albeit for dudes with no ride of their own. It is what it is.
It so happened that back in the early 70s, women Lost Some of Their Attraction but Not All and a then few of us Merced Flames started rock climbing. Little did we realize, at first, the potential not only for exercise, inspiration, and mental health (!) inherent in the sport of dings, but we soon learned that climbers who have even the smallest rep are infinitely preferred in a pick-up situation to the average hippie-on-a-nature-binge who was such a ubiquitous part of the Camping Scene in YoVal.
You must understand that Merced lives up to it's local "mer-dead" nickname in the estimation of many Mer-teens and Mc-jobless delinquent types such as Flames, Dirty Hands, Sub Racers, and Pause-Whats, all "legit' social enterprises in our country city, all formed mainly to combat boredom and outclass rival clickas...
You know how it gets in isolated little towns, not a club scene anyplace worth a dime, especially on weeknights, everyone sits around broke, wishing for weed, a new, fresh girly-face, staring at each other, farting to make something happen, listening to the "newest" six-month old Doc Watson LP over and over, the chicks aren't interested in yer sh#t any more and wanta go home, whine whine whine, and you are all simply BORED OUT OF YOUR SKULLS! Rock climbing had it's appeal, it's escapism beckoned, and the romance between me and the lichen and crystals and dust and stars and friends took hold and directed my life for the next many years.
And later on I grew up.
There were not only cracks, chimneys, and face to be had in the Bitch-Ditch. (That is or was our gentlemanly euphemism for a babe-magnet like the Valley!) There were also legs to go with them! "Maid to order," in a manner of speaking; vulgar though it is, it is very close to the truth. Camp 4 man does not exist by the breadth of his climbing nor by the size of his rack, but by the broad swath cut through the ranks of the pretty maids all in a dorm. You sure don't need to have a string in order to be canonized a hardman, but it helps your rep. May be why Donini...Never mind. Not kind.
But women play that game, too. Otherwise, Lito would have had less to write about. Motives behind our passions are many times the result of sexual frustration. Here's a prime example from the roaring days of Yosemite Sam's, the cantina dedicated to beer and Creedence.
I should set the tone. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iP3TTGuddjY
Some week nights we got to sleep at a decent hour. Saturday was always a party in the cantina. I don't know how long Yosemite Sam's lasted, but it was a warm, friend-packed, beery place where you could dance until eleven or so. The place probably got shut down, but there must have been good reasons. It was a money-maker, doubt not.
Cagle, Cox, Cowboy, Meyers, the Rev, Millis when he was around (he got a job in Redondo at Pat's Ski Y Sportas), and more, including maids, desk virgins, and servers. It was for the benefit of the employees that the cantina had opened in the first place. It must have discouraged drug use by substituting more drugs, which is The American Way. And the NPS was apparently not going to object, or was willing to wait until someone killed themselves from driving home from the place. Quien sabe? All I know is I loved the atmosphere because I was a butting alkie. Yep. Consume more than you can afford, buy many rounds for pals with no reciprocity, and you are well on the way.
Werner relates; not that he's alcoholic, but he has seen them and never drinks. He's had his fill. For some it's uphill and always will be.
So one night I am heavy into this little blonde server and am jamming on the dance floor so much with her and we seem to be going places when Larry came and snatched her away: He and his red-headed charm, his cowboy demeanor...aw, schist! So, drunk as I suddenly was, I staggered out into the night, found my hardware stash in camp, set out a rack for the Tower, and by the time I'd coffeed up with Ron Cagle, had convinced him to help in schlepping my haul sack, just a LaFuma guide pack with comestibles and Fern Spring water, while I carried the ropes and racks.
Lessons learned:
1--Never take bananas on a climb if you value its completion. They don't react well to packing. Use banana chips instead. This climb died in a mash of bananas.
2--Never let a woman be the only reason you climb. That is pathetic. It's not correct motivation. Did I say it's pathetic?
3--Never drink to stupefaction and think you are capable of climbing anything. I've done it too often to not say so. If you do try, don't be a repeat offender. It's definitely a sign of alcoholism. Stop climbing, get help. Yer gonna die, but it so doesn't need to be like that. That would be absolutely pathetic!
Enough said about that expedition, except to say I got to expiate some lust, if not all. It's quite a hike to the tree at the base of the Leaning Tower.
I'm gonna bivvy here, see ya to da next pitch, eh?
May San Joaquin protect you on life's paths until I rerun again.
http://midf.wordpress.com/2008/07/26/one-pair-of-legs/
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Oct 24, 2012 - 04:42pm PT
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P.S. Mouse, we did NOT get the bread truck that we lived in for years (and our son was born in) from Dick Ellsworth. He had a yellow panel truck that had collages glued all over the side. We had a turquoise blue 1956 International harvester bread truck that we bought in 1974 after we returned from Europe. We bought it in L.A. where it's former life had been an ice cream truck (which fired up Randy's imagination). He and I built the little house inside it and of course on those wintry nights in Yosemite one could find me baking chocolate chip cookies in our oven so that we could keep warm under our down bags. We had an Aladdin lamp (which I still have) that was suspended from the ceiling and Randy used to read Sherlock Holmes stories out loud to me while we huddled under our down bags eating those cookies. Anyway after Ariel got too big for the three of us to continue to live in it, we sold it. And also that is where I made all those bagels that Rick Sylvester may remember eating.
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Oct 24, 2012 - 04:44pm PT
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I will find a photo of that truck
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Oct 24, 2012 - 05:31pm PT
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Dick's truck! I remember that some of the photos included in the collage on it's side were a bit, well, very pornographic. A ranger instructed Dick to cover them up. He did...with cardboard flaps saying " do not look"
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Oct 24, 2012 - 07:05pm PT
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sway their hay mousie decided just to throw out the bathwater not the baby
maybe
Blind zDobroBrown (1962)
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graniteclimber
Trad climber
The Illuminati -- S.P.E.C.T.R.E. Division
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Oct 24, 2012 - 07:07pm PT
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Dick's truck! I remember that some of the photos included in the collage on it's side were a bit, well, very pornographic. A ranger instructed Dick to cover them up. He did...with cardboard flaps saying " do not look"
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Oct 24, 2012 - 07:52pm PT
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I wish more pics...no one could afford photography back then. The few photos I have probably cost a buck each in those days. Beer and dope was WAY more important.
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Oct 24, 2012 - 08:07pm PT
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Riotin'
Draggin'
Cruisin'
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Oct 25, 2012 - 08:22am PT
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okay I'll get out the scanner and post a few more...
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Oct 25, 2012 - 08:53am PT
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Oct 25, 2012 - 08:57am PT
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