Discussion Topic |
|
This thread has been locked |
mike
climber
tahoe city, ca.
|
|
If you touch a snowflower, it will die.
|
|
Watusi
Social climber
Joshua Tree, CA
|
|
Looks like Ol' #46 got into some Old "E"
|
|
Roger Breedlove
Trad climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
|
|
Hey Kath, for the life of me, I am trying to remember a shirt that meets that description. Is this a non-guy kind of thing?
:-) Roger
|
|
Ouch!
climber
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Aug 2, 2005 - 12:19am PT
|
"Looks like Ol' #46 got into some Old "E"
I think Ol' #46 was a saint in his previous life. That's why he is so ornery in this life. Balancing the karma. Bears know about these things.
|
|
Ouch!
climber
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Aug 2, 2005 - 12:57am PT
|
Maybe Tahoe was where I first saw the snowflowers.
East of the lake, there was a jeep trail that went up over a mountain where there was a Sierra Club hut. the trail ran down to the Rubicon River where there was the ruins of an old waystation or lodge, just across the river. Just upstream was a pool of water, probably a big spring, off to the side of the river. It was maybe 8 to 10 feet deep and crystal clear, and full of huge trout. Damn things wouldn't bite anything. There were numerous rattlesnakes around the pool. They were almost solid black. That was 50 years ago. Bet those trout are whoppers by now.
|
|
arete
Trad climber
Estes Park, Colorado
|
|
Another fun Yabo story:
Back when they started to do control burns (mid-to-late 70's, though they may have done them earlier -- just the earliest I know about) they set El Cap meadow afire and filled the whole valley with smoke. One day I drove down the the big rock with some friends and parked at the meadow. The meadow was still burning in places and smoking heavily all over. Soon we noticed a lone figure appearing and disappearing in the smoke as he made his way over to my van. With his usual wild hair and satanic visage, Yabo materialized, rubbed his hands together and said "Welcome to Hell".
And then we used to deliver fresh hot coffee from Tioga Pass Resort to a very appreciative Ferdinand at the Tioga gate when we arrived -- double cream, double sugar.
Rest in Peace my friends.
|
|
Patrick Sawyer
climber
Originally California now Ireland
|
|
Ahh, the old Mountain Room Bar.
|
|
Patrick Sawyer
climber
Originally California now Ireland
|
|
Kath, I remember you, but I doubt if you'd remember me as I never was a top climber, a couple of levels below if that. But I did climb (at least hang out with) with some good climbers: Claude Fiddler, Lew Dawson, George Meyers, Ed Barry, Donny Reid, Kevin Worral, Dave Hitchcock - lucky enough to do one climb down at Reed with JB and Werner, and Ron Kauk, who I found to be one of the nicest guys in the Valley. Last saw him back in 1985 when I was ice climbing in Lee Vining Canyon.
|
|
Roger Breedlove
Trad climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
|
|
Yup, Kath. You are absolutely correct about me. The memory of the shirt may come back--I have lots of dusting to do--if I give it some time.
But, I know without hesitation that I was clueless. I could do the macho bit okay and hold my own. But Jim always got the girls.
Once in the Valley, I chased after a beautiful women for all of the spring and all of the summer. Driving from the Meadows to the Valley in the heat of the summer to find ways to run into her. Chatting her up.
She gave me lots of inviting signs to continue.
Finally in the late fall, we were both invited to dinner with a large party at the nice restaurant at the Lodge, the one facing the falls. (We weren’t paying.) I quickly grabbed a chair next to her. Except for her, almost everyone else was male. She had the kind of beauty and poise that cause men to fight, and try, after no practice in 25 years, to become charming, and get that goofy look somewhere between moronic, lap dog, and early teen googol eyed, and cause relationship problems for the women who must endure the hapless responses of their husbands.
All kinds of macho tendencies come to the surface. But I was big, and I was the only climber in the group, and I got away with snatching the chair next to her. I was doing my best to be relaxed and charming and gracious, just like my Mom taught me to be when someone else is picking up the check.
All my preparation paid off.
On the way back to her apartment that evening, we were crossing the foot bridges next to the road--just after you leave the Lodge complex on the way to the Village. We were paying attention only to each other. About a third of the way across, we look up and notice that a bear is about a third of the way across coming from the other direction.
There was a time when I would have just say 'shoo', confident that a bear would amble off. But after coming too close too many times to mixing it up with a mother bear whose cubs were nearby but out of sight, or having a LSD tripping bear scoot down a tree in Camp 4 and come after me for throwing rocks, I wasn't taking any chances.
Now this presented a dilemma. My natural instincts would have been to turn and run, probably pushing anyone close at hand into the distance between me and the threat. You know, the whole un-heroic thing that has served me in real life so well for so long, as opposed to storytelling facades.
But, the one thing that you can learn as a climber, that stays with you for life, is how to check your emotions and stay calm. I had to be manly. And protect my prize.
I had put a lot of effort into searching for the meaning of life and this young beauty was part of that fulfillment. So I quickly got my arms around her, to show her my protective nature, and to help guide her out of harm's way. We slowly backed off the bridge as the bear continued towards us. We crossed the creek on the road—flush with the excitement.
Thanks to that fearless bear, the contact was made. That perfect moment, after months of work and dreaming, the promise is kept with a touch that electrifies your whole body.
So what’s the punch line to this little nostalgic tale of life in the Valley? After we got to know each well, she told me that she never knew that I was chasing her, so subtle was my technique. Sort of the technique of no-technique.
So, yup, I was clueless.
It was just a warm shirt.
Roger
|
|
Roger Breedlove
Trad climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
|
|
That is so funny about Mike. Don't we all makes fools of ourselves. It is even funnier given that he was so smooth. Who would have guessed. Maybe my full season of getting ready to get ready was a sound tatic afterall.
Now about your thought that it was so frigging sweet that we were clueless, don't you think that it might have been more fun--so to speak--if you and your friends had just taken us by the hand. There were lots of woods around there, with privacy, for crying out loud.
CCR (Clueless-to-the-core-Roger)
|
|
Roger Breedlove
Trad climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
|
|
Hey I am clueless, but I am no cad.
You sound like Roper. Always wanted the details, no matter how prurient.
Actually I think I would have told the story differently depending on alternative endings.
CCRBNC
|
|
Ouch!
climber
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Aug 4, 2005 - 12:58am PT
|
Yosemite, 1957. First time I ran into #46. He was an apprentice crossing guard.
|
|
kunlun_shan
Mountain climber
SF, CA
|
|
Great stories bump.
|
|
survival
Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
|
|
I forget Ouch's real name.. Alan Schrimser? Something similar?
I hate it when I can't remember something like that.
|
|
Gary
Social climber
Desolation Basin, Calif.
|
|
It's always nice to bump into Ouch! here.
|
|
Lynne Leichtfuss
Trad climber
Will know soon
|
|
Remembering Ouch is a wonderful thing! I am going to put him on my Christmas Tree. What an awesome presence he was (and still is in our hearts and minds)at our campfire. He was what the campfire was made up of. Hearts to you Ouch and love to your family tonight. lynnie
|
|
|
SuperTopo on the Web
|
Let us know!