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Gypsy
Social climber
Usually behind the camera
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Feb 19, 2015 - 11:59am PT
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... and how is this California girl born and bred spending a day in the Blue Ridge Mountains at 10 degrees Fahrenheit and a whole lotta snow between herself and her car. Scanning slides from the 70's in Chamonix, England, and the Sierra
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 19, 2015 - 02:02pm PT
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Glen Watkins was a friend of a friend of my sister's best friend (who was IN with the reigning party's lead senator--or was he a member of the cabinet?) and whose name rhymes with Mercylah.
That's not nearly so bad as Chlamydia.
None like these from zin-zin-atti ever made it to Merced.
http://www.ursuline-sisters-cincinnati.org/History.html
Artist: Lewis Williams, OFS
Artist's Narrative:
Born between 1470-75 on Lake Garda in Desenzano, Italy,
the young Angela grew up in a loving family where she imitated saints.
She worked hard in the family vineyard and farm.
She was called early to commit herself to the Franciscan Third Order,
in part to be able to receive more frequent Eucharist.
She suffered the deaths of her beloved sister, both parents and a dear companion at a young age.
During a harvest work break in the fields, she beheld a vision where heaven opened
and angels and virgins traveled via ladder between heaven and earth.
She recognized one of the virgins as her beloved sister (in other versions it was her dear companion),
who told Angela that God wanted her to found a company of virgins in a new kind of community
where they would remain in their homes and workplace, without habit, solemn vows or enclosure.
Their call was to religiously educate poor girls.
In this image, St. Angela holds the symbol of St. Ursula, in whose name she founded the company.
The arrow was a symbol of St Ursula’s martyrdom.
The grapes are symbolic of the eucharistic blood of Christ, so important to Angela,
and also of her family’s vineyard.
Even more, it is symbolic of the cluster of women she drew together in this unique way.
Lake Garda is the setting.
She died in her home at St. Afra’s church in Brescia, Jan. 27, 1540.
Her feast day is January 27.
the Stylistics/You'll Never Get To Heaven (If You Break My Heart)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3h0ZewTOqmI
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 19, 2015 - 03:48pm PT
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If you're in the 'hood
Come by and holler up at my window.
Or call.
My number's posted here somewhere.
It's more fun when you don't call and just yell MOUSE COME DOWN.
You might find me on the course if I don't answer.
I don't plan on moving out of this block to shoot anything but the turn at the cafe.
If I sound desperate, it's not that I'm all lonely and blue,
I just would like MORE people in my life.
But the facts is that yesterday I officially resigned as a museum docent
to Sarah and K in the office on my way home from jury duty in the morning.
I plain don't have the desire or the energy.
I'm paddling backwards, like.
Aw, screw it.
As to the jury dury, I don't have anything but time, so I may as well get paid to do nothin'.
I volunteered for a seven-day trial and need to be there tomorrow at ten a.m.
They talk about banker's hours, 10-3, but now it's different.
The trial lawyers go to work at the same time, then have a decent lunch break and they go to around four p.m.
I've never worked on a jury. It will be a learning experience.
From the old courthouse to the new courthouse with the Mouse.
If I had not stopped in on Sarah and K, I'd never have known of the 100th Anniverdadverary of the International Exposition.
One thing I learned by paying attention to DMT's posts...
Treasure Island was done up for the 1939 doin's.
I'd been under the mistaken impression that it was set up in 1915 in conjunction with that.
Thanks for jogging my mind about that.
Neither. It's a Navajo girl on the Zone, the Exposition's midway. The Grand Canyon was the name of this exhibit and it took up five acres by the Santa Fe Railroad.
Fred Harvey, the restaurant entrepreneur, had a fine colection of Indian blankets and rugs for display and sale here.
He probably made a huge bag of money off the visitors.
We had a Harvey House here next to the Sandy Fay Depot, but it BURNED, BABY!
"Can we go eat now, Grandmother? I hear you've got a little big man. Tell me about him."The 101 Ranch was a wild west show. They paraded daily around the fairgrounds.
It's motorized anyway, you eedjit!
Tellers with the receipts from SF Day: $125,000 in admission receipts and $88,000 in concession sales. By closing day, December 4, over 18 million people had passed through the entrance gates.
But did they ever get to heaven?
None of Gypsy's relatives are in the next photo.Did they ever figure out that the Rock and Ice came back in time and snatched two grand?
They were desperate to go to the Himalayas and do this big climb, but they had not enough funds.
They were at the end of their rope.
It was Brown's scam, all the way, but it was Bonington's uncle who provided the means. He was just a social climber in the R&I, see.
"I've been a monkey's uncle all his life."the Rev never lies!
Who is the Monkey's Uncle?
I know that's not a photo of the Rock and Ice up there, but it's all I have that's close.
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Gypsy
Social climber
Usually behind the camera
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Feb 19, 2015 - 04:20pm PT
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The photo of Chris Bonnington and Dougie Haston reminds me of a story Jane Teas once told me.
http://www.abebooks.com/Temple-Monkeys-Nepal-Teas-Jane/5946047532/bd
Yes, that Jane Teas...
She was hanging out in Yosemite for a while and we got to be friends. She told me about a time when she and Dougie's wife hiked up to Mt. Everest base camp so Dougie's wife, Anne, could see him. Dougie's wife, Anne, wore high heels and carried a parasol while she had porters to carry everything else. Jane who was studying temple monkeys in Nepal at the time thought it was a riot.
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujò de la Playa
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Feb 19, 2015 - 06:33pm PT
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Chris Anthemum.
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujò de la Playa
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Feb 19, 2015 - 06:41pm PT
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John Sears, Laguna Beach, 2012.
Ex Eternal Brotherhood of Love member. Stupid cops failed to examine the mules' cargo, which consisted of cannisters of BHO.
Though Sears told police his mules were more likely to be spooked by traffic coming from behind them, police believed walking against traffic to be unsafe and persuaded him to travel on Coast Highway’s southbound lanes to Ruby Street, where he was redirected to a less traveled parallel thoroughfare, Glenneyre Street. Sears and his mules traversed behind City Hall and into Laguna Canyon, where Beres said he was permitted to camp overnight on Tuesday.
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Gypsy
Social climber
Usually behind the camera
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Feb 19, 2015 - 07:20pm PT
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Gypsy
Social climber
Usually behind the camera
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Feb 19, 2015 - 07:33pm PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 19, 2015 - 08:17pm PT
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Guy on the right, the shy one, is that who I think it is?
Bewkshelf Johnnie was a climber from Tweekton End.
His specialty was chossy routes up Canadian chosspiles.
He wrote a book about his adventures.
It's called The Librarian.
It's not in the SJV Library System catalog.
I wonder if you've seen a copy, Gypsy.
Back to the topic.
Welcome back to Crag Fry!
I hope that you will drop by.
I don't care if it's on the fly.
You can fill in for Mr. Gnome,
Who has a computer virus and flown
From where he was on up to Nome.
We like to roast weenies here at the campfire.
The Doctor formerly known as f is like a phoenix
arisen from the ashes of his own discontent.
It's the old canvas job over in the corner of the site.
It got hotter than heck in the day and steamy in there at night.
Not a good environment for cacti.
Ah, the Main Topic, in honor of our semi-prodigal campfire acanthochronologist.
He may be semi-tropical, too.
He is a prodigious wheel in the science of noodling around with needles.
We need more liberal guidelines that allow re-entry into certain cactus-free zones were once upon a short time ago,
like sixty years, the various species of spinies abounded.
Patches of cactus mixed in with spinnies of oak in the time of which I speak.
And the place GOT TORCHED on a semi-regular basis, promoting health in the environment instead of RAPING MOTHER NATURE!
Have I got your attention, LAND POLLUTERS?
But I should let an expert speak on the topic.
Laura Cunnningham's take on the California scene as it was before the Spanish Incursion, which is what happened when they brought seeds of oats into the new lands.
Mules are the problem. They like oats and can't just forage like the hardy burro.
Laura, you have the mike.
Oops! We have someone special sitting here in the shadows at the campfire.
He'd like to deliver a message to the MAN WITH THE SIX PACK.
Otay! That was unexpected...
Laura, dear. Here's the mike. It's not a big mike, no, but adequate.
That was really well done for ex tempore lecturing.
Thanks, Laura C. (Applause ripples.)
The gentleman in the shadows wanted this image painted by Laura included.
It's just a gentle reminder from him that not all fire is BAD,
That some do a HELL OF A LOT OF GOOD!
This is reminiscent of the Big Drag Fry of '74.
It burned for days in the hills north of Hayfork up north before it got noticed.
What's up with that is a plane went down in the boonies.
It didn't exactly burst in to FLAMES, but sat and smouldered in the damp.
THEN it got going after the sun came out and dried out most of the rain.
What do you think was loaded in that plane?
A. Weed bound for Weed?
B. The crew?
C. Both the above?
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Ride that horse, Crag Fry!
All text from A State of Change.
As a courtesy to the limited space on our crowded front page,
I'm posting this story here in order not to lose it in the event of...whatever.
One of my first posts was a Hooblie Special.
Thanks, Mr. Hooblie.
First thread post.
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.php?topic_id=1782746&msg=1782746#msg1782746
Agassiz Column Falls!
February 30, 2015
Mouse Frome Merced
Tard Climber
"The finger you lick
points at you, my friend..."
I was on my way to immortality.
Took the old Toppen woodies out for a run to Glacier Point.
It was a run, then walk, then run, then walk, doobie break, walk, stop for a water break and a pee, walk, walk, ski for half a mile, walk, jog, walk, ski down to the GP lot all the way from Washburn Point, then walk down to Union Point, lugging the nearly useless wooden cross. The poles worked out well, though, lots of help on the balancy sh#t.
I TOOK NO COMPASS, NO MAP, NO GUIDEBOOK.
I recalled thinking of Ram Dass' words while prepping for this run:
You are your own guru.
So, here I am, a picture of Jerry Coe in my new pack that I won in a Facelift raffle, with a half-rope only.
I'm hunting for the little-known obscurity called Agassiz Column. I have in mind an attempt at a solo FA. I got the camera and tripod.
I couldn't find a soul who was willing to put his reputation on the line with me to gain immortality by knocking off this virgin c o c k of a rock.
I got way more weight than a true adventurer like Honnold but less than than pack mule Jimmy Chin.
I think about another doob, but I figure a PBR is more better.
Lunch is done...two butterfingers, some Waverlys and jack cheese.
I lay the extras out and bring the tripod and camera, water and rope and a few biners. I take one old wired #4 Stopper for sillies and grins.
I know I won't get far. This is gonna be a project, no question. If no one else has been able to climb it, WTF will I be able to do? This is, at base, a farce, but a good excuse to take some pix to amaze all the guys on this site. So that's my motive for being here. I want to impress a bunch of puerile (and the female equivalent) old hacks and who knows who else is gonna be out there?
I almost fall a few times getting down the short distance from Union to the Column. But when I get to where it is supposed to be...
it's not there!
It pulled a Bob Dylan, I swear.
It has vanished in thin air.
I don't think anyone will care.
But I do.
The stump remains, and some fresh boulders lead downhill away from the stump, which is all of four feet high.
It seems it has toppled and following the laws of gravity has proceeded to clear a trail straight down the fall line.
Well! I sat and smoked that last doob, laughed my azz off, drank a beer, gathered my goodies and hiked back up to the gear, re-packed, and mostly ambled down to Southside Drive and over to the Lodge, where I took a nice dump, washed up in their SWEET RESTROOM, and un-froze my hands (poor circulation at age 66), chuckling over how that turd I just let loose looked EXACTLY LIKE AGASSIZ COLUMN!
Believe it or not! Pix--why bother?
Note to T Hocking, here.
I was wondering how long you've been hangin' out at the campfire.
Now I can sleep knowing I have some seniority.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Feb 19, 2015 - 11:46pm PT
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wait a minute a # 4? I have to checkeslovakkian but that nut in it's straight sided old school form was á rarity ( maybe just back east, and only till '81 or so?)
Heavy front page indeed ![Click to View YouTube Video]
Kinda did our own fix to the box so I'm in less trouble here still no boo sum, but we kids threw water balloons around in the twenty below with wind chill on the hill,
Looking for good graces but that Boyd still waits in North Dakota!
Fly south
The sound of one hand ELCAPITAIN eklp ing!
Matterhorn!
The Ruth glaciers gorgeous, T R G G,
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 20, 2015 - 02:42am PT
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Hail California Finale de l'eponymouse symphonie par Camille Saint-Saens.
[Click to View YouTube Video]The French prodigy with perfect pitch composed a symphony in honor of the host of the International Exposition.
This finale is a combination of The Star-Espangled Banner et La Marseillaise,
itself written and composed in 1792 by Claude Joseph Rouget de Lisle.
It is not the Alma K. Mater of U.C. Berkeley.
That's for zBrown to worry about, though.
It was last displayed publicly in 1915.
"Oooh la-la, Lola!"
"Henry C. Peterson was a big Swede who was a boatman the same as my father was.
He had a Peterson Launch and Tug Company....that was in business before the earthquake, from about the turn of the century.
About 1915, the Henry C. Peterson Company, Incorporated, was organized as a successor to Peterson Launch and Tug.
Henry C. Peterson had only a small in that company....
That was the company that was dominated by the Anglo Bank and the
Fleishhacker interests, and various and sundry people were active stockholders in it."
--from a contemporary of HCP
Dave Van Ronk/Pastures of Plenty
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=chQWunvvjSg
"Hail, it's Californy! What a [expletive deleted] crockershitt."
"There's the Battleship Oregon out the window, bub. If you'ns don't like it here, there's there."Oregon stuck around until the close of the International Exposition.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 20, 2015 - 03:08am PT
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You don't have to listen to this fluff...
It's just good music on the one, and Dorothea Lange on them both.[Click to View YouTube Video]
[Click to View YouTube Video]Blessed are the meek...
Stories from the Depression to warm old gypsy hearts on cold nights
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpfY8kh5lUw
Gypsy mentioned KPFA earlier.
A very good place to listen to a VARIETY!
It was not one of my personal raves, but I would have liked to listen to it on Randy's old stereo parked
up in the rafters of the warehouse on Fifth St. if it weren't for the fact that it was our "muzak" for
the same reason Tom used classical music up on Telly--background music creates amience.
This was all pre-Martha Stewart, Payne Stewart, and Stewie.
God knows I tried to keep that old dusty, cold warehouse building clean and attractive and ambient, but there was a huge roller door facing Fifth and it had one small "Judas" door (if that's the right term) that was heavy enough iron to really rock the roll-up screen.
Ka-blam...errr...err
It took a while to stop it's wavy motion and quiet down.
Made it hell on listening to the radio no matter what was on when it was really busy, like at the SECONDS BLOWOUTS.
Microdust from the past fell each time from the rafters, though it was unnoticed by others, I had to Hoover the floor daily and never bothered dusting much...pointless.
That microdust affected me and I constantly used decongestants. Five years plus of that plus smoking. Plus the general pollution of that part of town.
It's gentrified now and trees line the center of San Pablo Avenue. But there was a rendering plant for cowskins a block away and other sources of pollution like the highway, sure 'nuf I-80.
As for seconds and irregulars and clearance items, for the weekend blowouts starting at eight on Saturdays, roughly when we had stock to move, which was motive enough to spend the bucks on the Chron. About twice a year I'd have to scrounge a big weekend crew, up to eight one time. And we would bring Tom Applegate's register down for Saturday morning and the rush.
We'd advertise exactly about four days or five days ahead of the 'events,' and always in the same place--the Chronicle's Sporting Green. Whole-page ads for four days, but the telephone went daffy when folks saw the ads.
They wanted a certain-sized or colored item and we'd be glad to set one aside. I forgot how that worked out later, but at first it was just me and I was really into the whole thing...a new job, pretty much my own boss, but a weekender, if that, at best.
We respect Richard O. Moore and his creation, the first public-supported radio station in the country.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_O._Moore
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujò de la Playa
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Feb 20, 2015 - 07:22am PT
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As far as all the endpoints go, I'm inclining more toward a "your last post" complilation though I 'spose that someone else would have to do the compling if it's done here. Maybe Dr. Organick could pull it off using FORTRAN and some NSA files.
Oops, sorry, he's gone. RIP Doc.
To make it easier on the ST historian, I would like to recommend that you include the tag "MY LAST POST" in the text of your last post. You should include a hash coded numerical identifier based upon you ST "name" so that you can be validated.
While we're here, the appropriate retort to:
"you're history dude"?
"What, and you're not"?
EDIT:
It was pointed out to me that someone might inadvertently or unknowingly make his/her last post to the ST forum. This throws a new wrinkle into the scheme. I'll have to get back to ya on this one.
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feralfae
Boulder climber
in the midst of a metaphysical mystery
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Feb 20, 2015 - 07:24am PT
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Gypsy,
All your photography seems beautifully inspired. I hope you will post a bit more narrative sometimes, as it helps those like me who were not around back then, but who appreciate the historical color and flavor of this climbing tribe.
Thank you for hauling out the old photos and sharing them.
feralfae
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujò de la Playa
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Feb 20, 2015 - 07:59am PT
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Menlo Place, Berkeley
2600 Block of Le Conte - 1910
In the wild, seeing the “eyes” of the tiger signifies death, because right before a tiger attacks, it turns its ears forward so that the spot on the back of each ear faces nearer its prey.
The “eye spots” on the back of tigers’ ears serve to confuse predators and reduce the risk of attack from behind. Hence, once someone sees these “eyes”, the tiger is about to attack. It means being ready for anything. Even for possible backstabs
The Eyes of the Badger likewise I'm sure.
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujò de la Playa
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Feb 20, 2015 - 08:34am PT
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It was a toss up between "Bridges" and "Flames", but I was already here (sorry DMT). What is that device at :26 -> :28, a street light?
[Click to View YouTube Video]
It's Alright Ma, Only the eyes of the Tiger
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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Gypsy
Social climber
Usually behind the camera
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Feb 20, 2015 - 10:02am PT
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Randy and I spent about three months in England in about 1973. We had met Brian Wyvil and Ben Campbell-Kelly in Yosemite. Mike White and Randy were on Half Dome and so were Ben and Brian (on different routes). They were caught in a bad storm. I think it was Bill Bonebrake who walked up to Half dome and shouted up to them (or down to them?) if they needed a rescue. They shouted back "no" that they would make it back down themselves. Brian told me later that he and Ben were comfortable playing "battleships".
We worked in Berkeley for about nine months. Me at Herrick Hospital and Randy at The North Face on Telegraph Ave. After we quit our jobs we had some money in the bank and so we decided to hitchhike across the U.S. and then fly from New York to London. I think Mouse and Dolores gave us a ride to the California border. (Correct me if I am wrong there, Mr. Mouse). And then we spent several days making our way across the U.S. via our thumb. Somewhere in Utah out on the highway, we got picked up by "Charlie Brown". He had been a climber in Yosemite at some point and I think was friends with Chuck Pratt. He invited us to camp on his land. He lived in a school bus somewhere in the mountains outside of Salt Lake. What a lovely night under the stars that was.
Anyway we finally arrived in New York City and made our way to the airport at about 2 a.m. Somehow I had imagined that it would be a bustling busy place. It was not. Quiet and deserted; but there was a man working at the Pan Am desk.
We approached and said "We want to go to England".
HIs reply was, "Do you have reservations?"
"No"
Well there was a flight leaving at ten the next morning and he booked us on it at a student fare. $220.00 round trip per person. Then he led us to a lounge, brought us blankets, magazines and sodas and said to make ourselves comfortable. Later when the last flight came in from Puerto Rico he brought us dinner.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Feb 20, 2015 - 05:56pm PT
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TYou all are Sanna,
sanna
The name for the most awesome person ever. It is impossible to fit so much awesomeness into any one/other person.
awesome!
 "Hi. What's your name?"
https://taiwandiscovery.wordpress.com/2012/08/23/mount-hua-华山-the-most-dangerous-hike-in-the-world/
Man I freed up a good verse but lost it all in my excitement, As always so much that paints scenes on the back wall of my mind and forces me to look up long lost memories.
zb this is the same place ?! , but there are 3 or 4 others like it incuding a Japanese one that I am not yet able to find.
Prickly pears for miles east of the megalopolises Rancho cuco munga now then it was
The lands not to be left turn burn to get to fine stone
NO LEFT TURN UN STONED ,the Shablet ofte Diabse often resets if I go all capzinyrazz
Try and sing it with me
Itsee bitsee spider ran ho Quo co manga, magma catholic Fire was all caught in its web.
It's ee bitsee Firesign was burning up the canyon the loath boys got hooked and never would be the sane,
Again,
It was to be all in in Reno just to watch him die. My buddy was Jonny Rothshot him in the eye.
As window men befriended me not osmic see it was too but Clean Dan, he wanted me to
ware a divers weights to hang in on Denver's windy gales it was a righot, offered and won
ritetious party all the time but He did not survive and took the setting Son way out followed
years later by his protégé Flyin in Vagas needed avigaxzz. Not main line starting up the nose?
The rain is in the plainz and best is in Shakerhieghts were my gold is from I am so lucky that that lottery I won
Do not go there but I just the last weak, sauce in politards village sack cloth shirt, (can't beat the auto correct on that one) and the
procreation Vs. Let's everybody's must get laid, why for do animals enjoy like women and men , I had tried to pose that like months ago
and better stone, is all under five ten an there is nothing wrong with that!!
any way it is keeping as not taught by nuns but by Buuhda auto correct sucks that is not how G.O.D. Spells Yhway God Budha nope not and I will correct that at least!
With The Golden Mean. Sadly wthzz Ben doing been ca't be led astray to read it again
So I push the save
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