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madbolter1
Big Wall climber
Denver, CO
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Well, T Hocking, I DID find that cartoon DEEPLY offensive. You just couldn't FIND a Bugs Bunny cartoon without gratuitous gunfire? No, of COURSE you couldn't. I SEE your hidden agenda here, and I find your thinly-veiled attempt at subtlety to be like a PERSONAL SLAP in the face.
If that cartoon wasn't a "personal attack," I don't know what IS!
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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The term "Piker's Peak" was originally a slam on Zebulon Pike of Pike's Peak name fame.
He was a thoroughly incompetent US Surveyor. Upon seeing Pike's Peak for the first time he loudly and brazenly announced he would climb it that afternoon. A few months later he still hadn't reached the mountain and never ever set foot on the summit. Thus a term was born. It most often refers to the hopes of noobs when seeing a false summit.
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jonnyrig
climber
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Madbolter doesn't seem the type to yell. I suspect sarcasm.
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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This is awesome!
A place where my anonymous coward friends can gather and be noticed.
Maybe I can load it with enough climbing content and up beat messaging that people would be insenced if it got frozen or pitched. Thus preserving the vile and abusive attacks of others for posterity and perspective.. Maybe there will be a rush of back deleting and the forum can be left with a pretty good climbing thread. But don't expect me to interact or engage the "phriends" of philo.
Not here on the forum, not at any ST gatherings and specially not in person. I'd no sooner tie in or drink a brew with the lot of you "homies" than I'd care to skinny dip in a piranha pool.
Say anything you want about me or others you dont agree with, but don't expect me to care, give a damn or respond. I'd still give any and everyone of you the shirt off my back or my last dollars if it was what was needed. Just won't be sharing words with you.
Want to take a piss on me?
Get in line.
The tree will still be here long after the dogs are dead and gone.
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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This enigmatic picture of Layton Kor walking through Eldo and into his eventual sunset was taken by Allen Frame Hill.
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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madbolter1
Big Wall climber
Denver, CO
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Really,
wasn't meant to be,
I was just tryin to bring some light hearted humor to the thread.
No, not really. I guess I wasn't sarcastic enough. Either that, or you really got me good with fake concern over my fake outrage.
I suspect that, so:
Well played, sir!
:-)
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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John M
climber
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Philo needs a hug
every time this thread gets to the bottom of the page he bumps it up..
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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Looks like that fourth kid is a pick pocket in training.
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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Pffffffereeeeeeeet.
Too late.
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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The solution to pollution is a big assgas bag.
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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Driving into the chill of building cloud cover - fearing the ever deepening imminence of today's atmospheric instability - and glad for the relative safety of my Volvo wagon, I crave the sun. Even unto swelter and dehydration I crave the sun. Ten years of progressive recovery from my lightning strike all but evaporated in the nearly two month solid stretch of thunder storm weather Colorado has been experiencing. A weather anomoly in a State that brags of 300+ days of sunshine a year. With every turn of the road taking me up into the mountains the weather thickens and my couragge thins. My head retracts turtle like into my shoulders with every shadow I drive into. In my guise as Sparkski the Polish magician electrician I'm heading to a long term and very valued client's home in the mountains above Boulder. Every foot of elevation gained has a corolary effect on my height. A cause and effect, an equal and opposite reaction. The weight of fear is an emotional gravity pressing me closer to ground. Pulling into the mountain driveway rain starts to spit. The wheels crunching over gravel sound like distant thunder. I wince! Yes that's right I am a climber who's been struck by lightning and I make my living as an electrician. Ill give it a moment till the laughter that usually accompanies that apparent paradoxical disconnect settles down.
To be accurate, in my 40+ years of climbing, I've actually had two strikes, twelve serious ground shocks and too many too close of calls to bother remembering. So you could say it is an "highly charged" issue for me. In fact, I can't get out of the car with the clouds so pressing and close. My head feels thick and painfull and every little hair on my arms and legs dance with tingling anticipation as we all wait to see what happens next. The dance of electricity. To be clear, it's not the "fear of death" that haunts me at times like this, but rather surviving another electrical raping of my central nervous system and already PTSDed brain that shatters my nerve and halts my feet. In all honesty if I really thought that the next encounter of the billion volt kind would be fatal I'd move to Florida and take up golf. Instead I cower in my car unable to head out, torn between duty and dread. I feel ashamed, the wreck of a man who for most of his mortal existance had taken life by the horns and danced amongst the charging bulls of fate. Furiously scrawling notes in long hand before Zeus or Thor or other demons devor my lucidity. Hoping only that I make it through to a time I can transcribe the thoughts flooding through me now. In ten years the story of my "buzz" has been published many times. About me, but not by me. The experience so raw and pauinfull it is only now a decade later in this uncomfortable circumstance that I find my words pouring out of me. Rousing all my remaining courage I decide to try. Opening the car door and - like toe testing the hot tub temperature - I tenatively step one foot to ground. Cajouling myself to work I dive in or out as in this case and head for the stairs leading up to the job site. But I struggle against gravity, every limbs seems to weigh seventy five extra pounds. The three hundred pounds of emotional baggage exhausts me before the top step. Turning around and fleeing to the safety of my Sweedish faraday cage the rain starts in earnest. I hear thunder and I flee.
Driving back through spatterings of sunshine I wonder if I've made the correct decision or will I forever be a desperate wuss. In short order the skies of Boulder/Denver erupt with electrical violence, spawning tornados and in some Denver neighborhoods cases of feet of hail accumulation. I've chosen correctly, I crave the sun. Even unto swelter and dehydration I crave the sun.
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MisterE
Gym climber
Being In Sierra Happy Of Place
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Get a blog.
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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One of the admirable traits on StuporTorpor is how well people handle a poster who bears a part of their soul or tries to add a creative element to writing about a painful subject.
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philo
Trad climber
Is that the light at the end of the tunnel or a tr
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I have to wonder if the taco turd tossers know how many of my wordy "get a blog" verbal masturbations that started on on this silly Climber's Forum have ended up printed in Alpinist and other mags and books?
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