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jogill
climber
Colorado
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Sep 17, 2010 - 12:50am PT
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RIP, Gaston . . . you sure impressed me.
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jstan
climber
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Dec 31, 2010 - 04:22pm PT
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Coming out of WWII there were bomb shattered buildings most places and people everywhere unsure they would be able to find their next meal. They were ready for elegance and wondrous ideals.
Even here we were ready for this. Only a few had the talent needed to contribute directly to the work. But, a few did.
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go-B
climber
Revelation 7:12
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Dec 31, 2010 - 11:15pm PT
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Bad Dude!
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Brian
climber
California
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Dec 31, 2010 - 11:36pm PT
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I never bought into the whole "Ghastly Rubberfat" mockery of Patey and his crew. And while I can laugh at a good off-color limerick with the best of 'em, when it comes down to it Rebuffat's prose will endure much longer than that of his detractors. Starlight and Storm remains one of the very best bits of writing by a climber, and is consistently the one I recommend to non-climber friends.
Here's a gem...
To succeed in scaling the great north faces, the pioneers had to climb for two or three days and spend at least one night clinging to the face. Nowadays, despite our knowledge of the routes, you still very often have to bivouac on some of them. But this is no drawback. At the end of the day the mountaineer looks for a ledge, lays down his sack, hammers in a piton and attaches himself to it. After the hard, acrobatic effort of the climb he is lost—like the poet—in contemplation, but to a greater degree than the poet he can be a part of the hills around. The man who bivouacs becomes one with the mountain. On his bed of stone, leaning against the great wall, facing the empty space which has become his friend, he watches the sun fade over the horizon on his left, while on his right the sky spreads its mantle of stars. At first he is wakeful, then, if he can, he sleeps, then wakes again, watches the stars and sleeps again, then at last he stays awake and watches. On his right the sun will return, having made its great voyage below this shield of scattered diamonds. The man who climbs only in good weather, starting from huts and never bivouacking, appreciates the splendor of the mountains but not their mystery, the dark of their night, the depth of the sky above. I know enthusiastic lads who flee the city at week-ends to the Forest of Fontainebleu or the Calanques. On Sunday they climb, but beforehand, on the Saturday evening, they bivouac. Theirs is the taste for nature and the universe. On the other hand, some mountaineers are proud of having done all their climbs without bivouac. How much they have missed! And the same applies to those who only enjoy rock-climbing, or only the ice climbs, only the ridges or the faces. We should refuse none of the thousand and one joys that the mountains offers us at every turn. We should brush nothing aside, set no restrictions. We should experience hunger and thirst, be able to go fast, but also know how to go slowly and to contemplate. Variety is the spice of life. —Gaston Rebuffat, Starlight and Storm
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Dos XX
Trad climber
Los Angeles, CA
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A bump for the 35th anniversary of the launch of the Voyager 1 spacecraft. Gaston's still going!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Mar 24, 2013 - 02:10pm PT
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Going, going...Gaston!
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BASE104
Social climber
An Oil Field
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Mar 24, 2013 - 02:19pm PT
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Largo,
What is that old climbing book that you guys used to quote. Buhl?
I think you wrote about it in one of your stories. Pretty funny, but also good.
Just think about looking up at some of those faces that had never been climbed. Those guys had balls as big as minor planets.
One of the cool things about climbing is that on some routes, you are pulling on the same holds or the same jams as your heroes and everyone else. We are all connected that way, even beginners.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Mar 24, 2013 - 02:41pm PT
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"Mental balance is the keystone of all mountaineering."
Words to live by or to ignore.
In my vision of rock climbing, snow exists as a background only.
I'm of this faith, if I must claim a religion, which I don't, necessarily, just a deity and his kid.
The Prattish Convention
I love the speckled granite of the alps them Frenchy photos show.
I can do without and do do without the goll-dang snow.
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