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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 11, 2016 - 03:29am PT
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More flashlight fun, this time with a blue light in my bunk and elsewhere.
My gnarly old smelly-feets.
Cottage cheese with pepper.
Liz's wedding ring, neebee's dream catcher. Of course it's hanging in the "best bed."Call me Will ShakeyShanks.
Water, water, and every drop refreshing.It hangs proudly on my wall, Mr. Allen, sir. Again, thank you.
And thank you, neebee!
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Jun 11, 2016 - 05:36am PT
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hey there, say, feralfae... wow, YES! doug needs to be there...
i love how you all had many a ' wine and toast ' ... :)
i did see the 'other' little item, there, :)
say, bushman:
love the apricots...
say, mouse, love the OLD truck, wow!
my ex had a really NEAT old white chevy truck, that
was really his brother's and his dad's, (shared)...
also:
love the bird catch, in the shadow...
and you are most welcome for the dreamcatcher, and
all the memories that it holds now, for liz...
i love all the old love-stories, that we have found here
on the taco... some, long-time marriages, and MANY of the
newer one, here, over the last few years...
just now, i am thinking on this one:
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 11, 2016 - 07:09am PT
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Those are some real Pepsodent smiles, neebee!
The world's oldest pup-dog, Maggie.
The New York Daily news has reported that Maggie, the world’s oldest dog, has sadly departed Mortal Coil Earth this weekend at age 30.
An Australian Kelpie, active even until her final day, Maggie’s owner was Brian McLaren, a dairy farmer in Australia. She was happy and healthy on her final day alive. Her death hit McLaren as a surprise.
When McLaren first adopted Maggie, he had hoped that she would live to 11, knowing that that was the average lifespan of a dog in Australia. However, as the years rolled on, his sweet tempered pup kept on chugging along, bringing him joy for an incredible 30 years.
Maggie’s passing reminds us all of the very little time we get with our precious pups. Life is but a mist. It is important for us to live each day like it was our last.
Rest in peace, Maggie; and thank you for being the bright star that shined on this earth for nearly three decades.
As they say in Camp 4, in the darkest hours you must keep your sunnyside up.It fell on Hard Times. It never returned to its Glory Days.[Click to View YouTube Video]
"My necessity, I'd be lost without your...'ineffable qualities', dear."[Click to View YouTube Video]Yep, those love stories...
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Jun 11, 2016 - 07:43am PT
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Past dawn
The c*#k crowed, something went bang ?
A shed door left open ?
Was it the garage ?
Who lifted it to?
& did not lower it before dark?
Was it kidzes? Or you?
Now I'm gonna be up till the sun
sets
so best not take the dog that barked
It would most likely get the both of us
Sprayed
Things that go bump in the night
Smell them,
thier Spector scent,
trailing off
Hints that things R alright
Trice Burley, RIP(?), I've not heard, nor have I heard of the once & only Trace Mason(?)
Others Mike McDonald, Big Sal, Elaine Ball? The Kondraci Brothers (or their wives) Barbra?
Quackenbushes? Ther are 100's whose still alive?
Seems the crushers who know me
and are still alive have left the game or only climb in side. ?
These, this? - it was to hard to place half writ, but here at least it sits as it is
Two Shades of a funny story....
One weekend a long past friend that many knew invited me to go with him, just me & my girl, him & his girl on a weekend away.
He wanted to show me a 'new'place to climb.
Just a small spot off the beaten path.
More of a fantastic rock garden than a destination.
Newt would be there ahead of us, but we went to find him.
It was a great weekend with some naked shenanigans and an onsite of a climb called
Obnoxious Red Head, that had to be a soft rated climb?
So the next weekend I am all stoked to go, I had seen it & it was my sort of small rock hell.
I think I was with Alf Or CLn Dan? Any way we get there three days from when I'd been there last & there were six new lines bolted ?
BOB DA had been there not Kilroy . . .
( the explosion of Bob, the wonderful, the Phillie-Flyer, Boltin' BOB')
I was known to be heard saying,
"that so n'so,"
"He bolted my childhood crimes & climbs. . Probably sent them 1st too "
so 20 years latter (he did have the right too) this old 1st bolts are worn but
Thankyou Bob! They make those scrapyard woods worth going to.
Reilly, Mountain climber, The Other Monrovia- CA, Jun 11, 2016 - 08:43am PT
The Birds Tread. . . .
My bro just texted me that his panini was stolen in St Marks Square in Venice,
by a "large gull." What a n00b!
Reilly, said a brother texted that - a gull stole his panini from a bench in StMarks Square, in Venice -
your Bro wus lucky, he can get another panini.
We were two no0bs in the bosom of the West Strong Hold, in Arizona.
It was winter, food was already rations to try to extend the stay as long as possible. (as the cash stash had been left at a pay phone, and walked away from, we were low on funds) so the Western Jay that made off with the morning bagel, put a scowl on my face. I gave the goyle my breakfast, the oatmeal n' gorp with heated instant coffee, it put a damper on her face, I wished I'd had the sense to cover the food in that haunted place.
A
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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Jun 11, 2016 - 07:54am PT
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Story Time it's Called
There's a time for stories
Story time it's called
There's a time for stories
Story time it's called
Don't get dolled up for story time
Don't get dolled up at all
Don't wash your feet or wash your feelings
Don't wash anything at all
It's time for your bedtime story
Wether you want to hear it at all
Doesn't matter in the long run
It doesn't matter at all
There's a time for stories
Story time it's called
There's a time for stories
Story time it's called
There's a wicker man coming
The Wicker comes for us all
We sacrifice our own bodies
To whatever the cause
There's a wicker man a comin'
There's no reason at all
They say the Wicker doesn't love us
But only he can hear the call
There's a time for stories
Story time it's called
There's a time for stories
Story time it's called
Take the time for all your roses
Smell them one by one
Forget about the posies
They never were any fun
Fill your vases full of roses
For they are the only ones
That ever will remember
Our days out living in the sun
There's a time for stories
Story time it's called
There's a time for stories
Story time it's called
-bushman
06/11/2016
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Jun 12, 2016 - 01:51am PT
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Some punter, by that I mean new gen climber on mnt reject. .
I listed this from me , eliseted this comment from me . . .It was the Last sentence that got me
"H"
18 hours ago
Thanks for the replies. Working on getting it all sorted out for her. Some of the stuff looks like it was made in his garage.
The owner of the gear is Tom Tyna. (sic., Tom Tyma )
He climbed with:
Dan McClure
Doug Snively and
some others. I haven't had a chance to speak to him directly yet as he lives in Florida and his daughter had his gear here. I'd like to find some more info out about his climbing days, since I love ole' school stories.
Had a chance to meet Harvey Carter after I climbed one of his routes on Independence Pass many years ago. Was cool to hear his stories. Got him to sign my guidebook to. Guy had sausage sized fingers. He was making fun of me cause A) I used chalk B) He said he hardly set any pro on the first ascent. Some of the gear is stamped with the name "Dolt" inside a piton. Anyone heard of it? "H"
From Manitou Springs
Joined Feb 13, 2006
99 points The square-top wafer pin, highlighted by the blue webbing just
right of the balled up red webbing (hiding others)Is a big hint, definatly(?) Dolt
Also the Pin on the floor just above the letter 'T' in the word "the" (art of the form)
then I thought better than to share it where it was
The stash of gear includes at least three Dolt items, that I can see
although I've not grabbed the pictures (or the url,) NOW I HAVE SEE EM" & graded the snaps? That was a typo
To "H", then .,.
The Mark 'Dolt' in the Pin !? You really don't know??
I hope your kidding, if not, I'm not sure where you want to begin?
DOLT, William 'bill' Feuer. Poet, 50s '60s Big Wall Climber Inventor,. . .
The Golden Age of Yosemite Climbing, the coming of age,with his passing,
from maybe curable/Preventable mental imbalance,
most likely brought about due to food born allergy,
it is a deep Saga, an onion of Americana.
you need to look that one up yourself! Google is your friend, then, if you want
to, follow an American Saga., . .,.
Here I realized and bailed to The cool safety of the Flames.
That said I have Private messaged him ,
and publicly asked if he would consider giving 1st dibs on the Dolt gear to the 'L'.
For the Legacy, if going on the above post is a clue, I thought it the best way to go.
Sorry 3:50am post? Or some such. . I will try to fill it out with the fodder
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 12, 2016 - 04:29am PT
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I'm at sea here, Gnome. WTH are you going on about?
edit: Makes sense now, thank you. Poor dolt -- that's pathetic.
Sally O, Rong's bitch, had to be put down. So sad. Maggie, world's oldest, the Sally O, world's sweetest.
What really saddens me is that the old NV reprobate's got emphysema and cannot climb or backpack any longer. He still gets out to fish and hunt and guard the nation from freaks and weirdos.
Cheer up, Ron. Keep yer sunny side up. I know you have one.
Sturgeon Generals Warning
Just the facts of life and breath.
Smokin' brings on early death.
Life is a beach
Life is a bitch
It's up to each
'bout which is which
Death is a bitch
With the smokin' itch
But life after death
Just save yer breath
I could go on...
The news from Ron
Just some hunters I lifted nothing from.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 12, 2016 - 05:00am PT
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What did you do yesterday? I went to a Main Street car elub event.
Just gonna roll 'em. Make up yer own caps.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 12, 2016 - 06:52am PT
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Jun 12, 2016 - 06:56am PT
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Chopped & Cropped Blazer Sighting ! In Flames - News at eleven
And A hart-felt "awe shoot"! I'm sorry to hear about an old dogs' - time's up.
& Ron, Dawg!
You Will Always Rok! take care & know this Tree-huggin' peacenik-hippie
thinks a lot of you.
that, always, goes as far as it will, always. . . huh?
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 12, 2016 - 07:34am PT
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I'm not "finished."
Pissy Mary was divin' this mornin' while her black dog watched and listened to her ravings as the sorry woman tore up the dumpster. They call her that down on the street because she reeks of urine and her mental state causes her to rant and complain (mutter-mutter where's the margarine?) uncontrollably--she may have Tourette's. I know a couple of streeties who do and it's scary, at first. But Mary doesn't use expletives.
"What is Mind and Where is Mine?"
I see lots of strange, freaky-looking folks on the street. I spotted young Bushmagnome in that garden the other day. Yesterday a few more odd sorts.
I don't mean to mock their frailties or looks. They are simply odd. Take it or leave it. It's not creative influences at work, just simple mild-mannered reporting, as I see it.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 12, 2016 - 07:52am PT
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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Jun 12, 2016 - 08:20am PT
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Hope Stinks Eternal
Mars gave me hope
Whenever I'd go
Back to that place
That I once used to know
Before tourists and movie stars
F*#ked it all up
Now it smells like a diaper
And looks like a dump
With Starbucks and palm trees
Randomly strewn
No I couldn't go back
When it looks like the moon
I don't speak Chinese
And I'm partial to forks
So I'll stay here on earth
With the rest of you dorks
And will think of it fondly
How back in the day
We had to breathe co2
Now what can I say
So you can have Mars
And I'll stay here on earth
Something to be said
For the place of my birth
And the coffee's much better
Down here anyway
And the smog's not too bad
On any given day
-bushmanaut
06/12/2116
PS
I really do prefer sticks to forks.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 12, 2016 - 10:06am PT
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Dingus, that is priceless "footage."
What a charming laugh has the ladyscarlett!
No wonder you like jamming around with that special gal.
Thanks for the share.
It looked like a great save!
And Bushman,
Martian Chronicles, never red 'em.
Burroughs, though, magnifico!
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 12, 2016 - 10:29am PT
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[Click to View YouTube Video]
Here in my car
Where the image breaks down
Will you visit me please
If I open my door
In cars
Puff...puff...
As often happens, I forget this guy's name but his father-in-law knew the Rev's uncles Rex and Tom and their brother, the ace body man, Lemuel, and their paterfamilia Grandpa Freeman.
We had a great conversation between us three. Then the engines began to roar as drivers started their engines for "The Cruise." Further talk was obviated and they both took their rides and went around the block. Why didn't I call "shotgun?"
Doh!!!
I'll be back with mo' later.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Jun 12, 2016 - 03:01pm PT
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I LOVE A PARADE! ( even of only two intrepid travelers Way to go Lady Scarlet . . .ya' made Dingus get (his milk toes) wet
You would not believe me if I told you,
so here,
These things are hard to finagle,
Ive got nothing to offer darn it,
Lets Hope that the saga can generate the Vibes to this not next gen-er, at all, as it turns Out.
sitting' pretty there "H"?
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Jun 12, 2016 - 03:20pm PT
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[Click to View YouTube Video]All well and good to have and drive cars responsibly.
I've been a bicycle rider since boyhood, when I got my first at age seven. A red Schwinn. I don't recall its fate.
At age twenty-nine I began using an Italian make Bruce Hamilton sold me for fifty bucks and rode that till it was stolen. I've had many bicycles stolen.
Only one broke. Wouldn't you know that it was the most expensive, too. A road bike from Mark Tuttle for over $400 with air pump and lock and patch kit. That was after substantial use, as it was a replacement for the $50 wonder. Pedaled it up to Greeley Hill and back one time, another to Sonora. I admit to being a lightweight on the long hauls. I did, however, use it all over town and then some.
I replaced that with a new Haro mtn bike from Japan, but the miracle substance of the lightweight chain gave and Kevin's Bikes needed more than I had. I used a different, but metal this time, one and then IT was stolen but I kinda asked for it. The one Mark sold me I had given to my stepson Michel-Jon since he was just out of the US Army. He had no savings for transportation and it's stone bummer to be without a set of wheels of SOME kind here on the summer-baked plains. The bike's frame cracked at a spot that was not repairable.
I was asked at an artist gallery's opening by the so-hip owner about why I rode a bike. "Are you making a political statement?" I suavely agreed, drank some more of her wine and had some more cheese, and told Liz about her question. "It's more of a statement about your idiotic third DUI."
Truth hurts, but I've more or less come to the view that cars are not evil, it is the silly drivers who insist on taking their...
But it's Sunday and politics are rather ugly and frowned upon here, so I'll not be a Rambler.
"It doesn't, and you can't, I won't, and it don't
it hasn't, it isn't, it even ain't, and it shouldn't
it couldn't" (Zappa lines from Stink-foot) but I do it all the time, sometimes even in rhyme.
Oopoo da-yah.
I've been listening to Uncle Meat and Suzy Creamcheese's take on the world.
There are better things to dwell upon than stoopid humanity and their tricks.
Like the sorority of woman and their tricks. :0)
Sorry if they aren't naked and climbing a rock, Bullwinkle.
More shoe-polish, less hair dye. At least she listened when I told her last month that her purple hair color was totally wrong for her but I respected her right to free expression in personal appearance. Better punk than Goth, I suppose.
The outer arm shows "Gabriel Eighty-sixing Lucifer from God's Heavenly Kingdom" by the renowned Supertats stylist, Fra Guido.
Not quite what I meant. Sorry.
For when you may need some tea and sympathy.
And never take hooblie for granted.
Suzy? Suzy Creamcheese? The girl who smells like...
She had just washed her hair.
I could smell it in the air.
A scent so very rare.
Valvoline? Pennzoil?
Hurst shifter, starter coil.
Time to add more oil.
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