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splitter
Trad climber
Hodad, surfing the galactic plane
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Aug 25, 2012 - 01:41pm PT
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Don Paul,
No! I have always, for what it's worth, thought it's as bogus as crystal balls, etc.! But I do know there is a spirit realm. I have had very close encounters with it throughout my life. In fact, much closer than this relatively early one that I just shared. Think what you like. i am not attempting to prove anything to anyone. I simply shared about a similar experience to MisterE's (with the gypsy gal/family) that did bring me close to death (poisoned), etc.!
I could care less about what my palms say (or don't). Or anything else (tarot cards, horoscope, etc.). Perhaps they do have some significance relating to the dark side, or life in general. They have been around for a long time (Old Testament/bible times) and some people take them very seriously (obviously). But, I have no desire to go there!
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D'Wolf
climber
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Aug 25, 2012 - 02:20pm PT
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Let's see...
10 yrs old: riding bike no hands, front wheel catches a rut and cuts left - I go right (right over the handlebars that is). Distinctly remember my head smacking the pavement twice (right temple). Got up and continued on with my friends.
11 yrs old: weeks after witnessing my grandmother's body lying in a pool of blood in the street, the victim of a drunk driver, I'm crossing the street on my bike at the same intersection with friends. Car in the fast lane stops... car in the slow lane does not. My sister lets out a scream, car locks up its' brakes, my front wheel goes full-tilt left, I do a 360 in the street as the car goes by and I coast on over to the other side - just missing a ride to "the otherside".
12 yrs old: climbed on to the flat gravel roof of our school to retrieve an errant frisbee. See it and trot on over. The catch: it's winter and there's a sheet of black ice on the roof. I slip, fall, and promptly slide backwards off the roof of the school falling 15-20 ft to the concrete sidewalk below landing flat on my back and slamming the back of my head. I get up and walk away.
16 yrs old: riding a Honda 350 up to Virginia City from Carson City at 2:30 a.m. on a warm summer night. Come around a corner to see rocks everywhere. Lay the bike down, pant leg gets caught in the rear sprocket, and I get dragged through the boulders. End up pretty banged up but able to ride the bike home.
21 yrs old: Back up to Virgina City, this time from Reno, late on a warm summer afternoon after a fight with my girlfriend. This time on a Suzuki GS650. Going too fast. Tag my foot peg and audibly tell myself to slow down. Round another corner and the sun blinds me as it hits my visor. I'm in a right-hand turn so I use my left hand to pop my visor up but it's stuck. Eventually, I get it up just in time to see the upcoming left-hand turn and notice my speedo says 75 mph. SH!T. Jam the front brakes, downshift and hit the throttle, putting the bike in a slide. I turn the handlebars full-on right to flatten them out and let the bike go. Me and the bike slide for about 100 feet. I'm still carrying too much momemtum as I'm nearing the edge of the road (cliff). I audibly said, "Well, let's see how good this Kiwi helmet is." I sit up, tuck my chin and smack the guardrail with the forehead of my hemet. It lays me out flat, just past the rail with my feet just dangling off the edge. Get up shut the bike off, straighten the handlebars and ride home with a nice "star" on my helmet.
22 yrs old: went rafting the Truckee with friends early spring. Raft drifts toward a fallen tree and I can't avoid it. I yell at my wife to jump and swim towards the middle of the river. I get sucked under the tree, the raft gets snagged on a branch, and I'm tangled in the raft. I hold my breath (which I used to practice doing - 3 minutes was nothing) and start to work. Manage to get untangled and popped up the other side. My wife is now screaming because, turn's out, she can't swim! I swim like a man possessed to catch her and manage to get us both to shore.
Oh I've got more; I'm 51 now. I just wonder how many more chances I get...
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splitter
Trad climber
Hodad, surfing the galactic plane
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Aug 25, 2012 - 02:36pm PT
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D'Wolf,
Me thinks that it was prollie fortunate that you, MisterE, & myself never hooked up as partners (on El Cap, or whatever). Talk about, what an accident prone trio that would have been, sheeesh!! lol
edit: btw, Honda Scrambler's were cool bikes (i suspect that is what your 350 was). my best friend had one in 10th grade. One day we were ripping down this dirt road by his house (me on the back). Not sure how fast we were going, but he had brought it up through all the gears. nor, exactly what happened next. But we both ended up in the ditch. me on top of him. Neither one of us got hurt.
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MisterE
Social climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 25, 2012 - 03:27pm PT
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D'Wolf,
Me thinks that it was prollie fortunate that you, MisterE, & myself never hooked up as partners (on El Cap, or whatever). Talk about, what an accident prone trio that would have been, sheeesh!! lol
Haha! Too funny, Splitter. Like some triangulation of close call force fields, lol. I would definitely like to have a beer with you sometime, however.
Cheers, Erik
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Sierra Ledge Rat
Mountain climber
Old and Broken Down in Appalachia
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Aug 25, 2012 - 03:59pm PT
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Does getting sent on a military suicide mission count as a near-death experience? Has anyone else here on the Taco been sent on a military mission that was suicidal?
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Reilly
Mountain climber
The Other Monrovia- CA
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Aug 25, 2012 - 04:16pm PT
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Ya mean like turning out for Tuesday Midshipman inspection with a pair of
corfams in bad need of a shine?
"Mister, those shoes look like shit!"
"Sir, yes, sir! Must be the reflection, sir!"
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mitchy
Trad climber
new england
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Aug 25, 2012 - 04:22pm PT
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umm, belive it does SLR.
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splitter
Trad climber
Hodad, surfing the galactic plane
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Aug 25, 2012 - 05:04pm PT
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SLR, "Does getting sent on a military suicide mission count as a near death experience? Has anyone else here on the taco been sent...?"
1) Yes, it sure would qualify!
2) Certainly not I.
Apocalypse Now comes to mind. And I recall reading a book about this one dood that use to go out on missions in Nam where he had to locate various NVA generals, etc., sneak into their huts at night, determine which one was the general and cut his throat. Sounded pretty suicidal to me!
My brother-in-law (sister's husband) was a Marine Sargeant. Did two tours of duty in Nam. His platoon (or company) were on some hill & surrounded. Lost all contact, radio or otherwise, with base camp. Were in a very bad situation. Evidently several had volunteered to break through and get help. They had failed to do so and what happened to them was not a pretty sight to behold. My brother-in-law volunteered. Made it out. Ran 18 miles through the jungle to get help. Got a Silver Star for doing so. He was exhausted and near death from the process. Got him a ticket home. Not that it was his desire to return home. Anyway, I suspect that was considered a suicide mission of sorts. Not sure. According to him, he/they were gonna die anyway, so what the hell. Might as well die trying.
Reilly -- Suicidal, indeed! Sounds as though you lived life close to the edge, as a Midshipman! lol
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mynameismud
climber
backseat
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Aug 25, 2012 - 06:33pm PT
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Living in Eastern Washington, bored three of us decided to drive around. I was riding shotgun, tall skinny kid was in the back. We were in a little Datsun. Well the driver decided to score some pot and arranged a deal to meet these guys outside of town. We met at the prearranged spot and the driver walked back to the car behind us. I was keeping an eye in the mirror. Everything seemed fine as she walked back up to the car and got in then quickly drove off. Soon there is a car behind us lights on high, horn blazing. I look over questioningly. Seems she was suppose to sample then go back and pay. Hmm, a missed step in the process can upset some folks.
Well we haul ass down various roads at full speeds, with the lights off. The driver has sparked up and is now sampling the goods. Speeds have not reduced and in a flicker of Moonlight we see a dirt road turn off and go down through some orchard. We somehow manage the turn and are now going full tilt through an orchard with no lights in front or behind. After a short bit I convince the driver to turn on the lights for a second to " see where we are". The lights come on and there before us is a turn. In a moment of pure reaction she whips the wheel and we slide sideways then flip and land upside down in the main irrigation canal. Being summer and hot the windows are down and the car immediately floods. I try and get out but my arms sink up to the elbow in mud. I am yanking back and forth trying to get my arms out but cannot get any leverage. I am getting real pissed and starting to black out when my arms pop out. I have nothing left but the next thing I know I am sputtering and breathing air and looking straight down the canal. I guess that motion caused to car to right itself.
I look over and smile at the driver and the kid in the back bolts out my window since there is not one in the back. Tiny car, tiny back seat, real tall kid. I do not think he touched anyone or anything he just levitated and left in a blur. We laugh for a second then the driver goes out her window. I sit there floating down the canal, it was kind of trippy. Not sure of what else to do, I turn off the radio, turn off the lights,grab the keys, and turn on the four way flashers then bail. I get carried down a ways before I can get out. It takes me several tries to get out and each time I fail I fall back in the canal and get carried further down stream.
After a bit I am tired and soggy but standing on dry ground. I go walking up the canal bank and as I get about fifty feet from my friends I a truck comes flying up and skids to a stop. The drivers door opens, a flood light comes and and out of the dark between the truck cab and the door of the truck comes a large caliber hand gun. I just remember that barrel as being huge. Without really thinking, the word sh1t goes through my mind and I reach inside my inner coat pocket. At which time the gun points right at me and a rather cold voice says nobody moves. At this point my veins are ice, and I just feel friggin empty. I figure the dealers have us and there is not much we can do. I put my right hand out palm forward to indicate for him to hold on. I slowly pull my hand out of my jacket so he can see the pack of cigarettes. I stare down at them, they are useles, soakin wet. I hear a voice off to my left as my friends just now realize I am alive.
It turns out the guy is a farmer and saw us go by. He ended up calling a local tow truck guy and helped us get home and get the car out of the canal. The dealers did not catch us, the law never found out we put a car in the ditch. But, that little Datsun was never the same.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
merced, california
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Aug 25, 2012 - 07:25pm PT
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Hell's Kitten.
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Don Paul
Big Wall climber
Colombia, South America
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Aug 25, 2012 - 07:25pm PT
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Splitter you can tell a really good story. My former landlord was kidnapped for many years by the FARC, and spent his time handcuffed in jungle camps. Somehow he escaped one day, ran for days through the jungle, and became a national hero. Not sure exactly what he did to get kidnapped, but I saw him in public lots of times and somehow they never kidnapped him again. It used to be, there were so many roadblocks on the main roads, it was never safe to travel by land. They would just pop up and stop you and it could be the army, the guerillas, or the paramilitaries, they all look the same. I've been through FARC roadblocks various times and it feels like Russian Roulette. Things are not like that at the moment, although the main paramilitary group will call a paro armado once in a while and prohibit all traffic for a few days time, just to show they can.
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mynameismud
climber
backseat
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Aug 25, 2012 - 08:13pm PT
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1985, A sleep at the wheel. Four near misses and a thrill ride.
After putting myself through school I manage to get a job. The whole company was doing a great, people working crazy hours just getting stuff done. As a reward they give us two weeks mandatory vacation paid. I loaded up my motorcycle and took off.
Starting the ride I was hauling ass down 101 and I ended buzzing another motorcycle as it approached quicker than I thought it would. I buzzed this Harley on my 79 CB750 at about 100 mph. I saw the dude with the leather jacket with a familiar insignia on the back wobble in my mirrors. He was way back there in no time but slowly started to close in. So I kept the throttle held back until the tank bled dry and I had to hit a town to get gas. I was so happy I had geared this bike real tall for road trips. Was terrible off the line but it had a big tank, got good gas mileage and would go pretty fast :)
After 5 days and couple thousand miles a few all nighters I am rolling into San Diego in the early AM after riding through Nevada and Arizona. I am low on gas, low on sleep, and full on bladder. I keep punching my leg and yelling at the top of my lungs trying to stay awake. I have already switched the tank over to reserve and am praying for a gas station. Well, I must have be prayin way to hard cuz I fell sound to sleep.
I awaken to the sound of a horn. As I focus my eyes I come to realize that I was slowly laying the bike down, but instinct kept me on top of the bike. So Here I am going down the San Diego Freeway at 70 with my bike leaned over at a ridiculous angle with me sitting on top. I glance over my shoulder to see a small car disappear into a large wall of cars that are queued up behind me waiting for me to hit that critical mark of no return. Very carefully I work the bike up to vertical at which point a solid stream of cars pass me by. The horns, yelling and one finger salutes work as a very affective alarm. I work my way over to the right hand lane. Just as I am settling in the bike sputters and and engine quits turning. I pull in the clutch and work it into neutral. I pull onto the shoulder and just as I am slowing down to about 15 mph an exit comes up and I take it. I have absolutely no idea where I am but as I roll down the exit I notice on the far side is a gas station. I come rolling down the off ramp and just as I approach the light turns green I coast through the intersection and right up to the gas pump.
Strip down, change cloths, gas up, pee and head out. Somewhere up the pacific coast highway I am in the middle of a string of cars but do not really care since the views are great and I have new lease on life. So I am gawking at something to my left when the car behind me honks. I quickly look back see nothing then turn around and realize the cars in front are stopped. I whip my bike to the left into the on coming land and realize that one car is pulling out and another is making a left into a park overlook. I lock up the bike and half power slide past one car dump the clutch punch it, re-lock up the brakes and fish tail past the other. It required travelling in a S path. Have no idea how I did it but I had been riding a lot since it was my only mode of transportation and I also grew up on dirt bikes.
I was so proud of my self. I rode away to the tune of screeching tires and honking horns. I could not help but to rubber neck back and take a look at the grid lock behind me. As I turned around right before me was a bridge abutment. If I hit it I was going over a huge cliff. With no thought I threw my bike to the left and leaned like mad. I had my bike once again past a 45 degree angle with a guardrail inches to my right and several hundred feet to the rocks below. This for what ever reason really shook me. My heart was pounding like a jack hammer and I broke into a cold sweat that I could not stop. Just a bit up the road was a campground I pulled over for a bit to calm down.
Finally I was on the last leg of the trip coming over highway 17 from Santa Cruz toward San Jose on my way back to Oakland. It was dark and pissing rain. At this point I had my full face helmet on but the face shield kept fogging up. I was trying to stay with cars to make it easier to see the road. At one point it became real difficult to see the road. It was black in front of me. Then I realize that the black spot in front of me was a car with no tail lights and no brake lights that is about 3 feet from my front tire and getting closer. Going into a corner I hit the brakes, stand the bike up and slide into the lane next to me and past the car the darkend car. But I had not planned on this and the angle carried though the corner and way to close to the center divide and oncoming traffic. Again have no idea how I got out of that. The worst part is I could not shake that car. I speed up he speeds up. I slowed down he slowed down. It was a life and death struggle with that car all the way down the hill. In retrospect I should have pulled over and parked it for 5 minutes but I was cold and wet and I wanted to get home.
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D'Wolf
climber
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Aug 25, 2012 - 11:18pm PT
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Splitter -
You, MisterE, & myself...yeah, there's a scary combination based on the stories.
But then again, had we been aware of our apparent indestructibility, we could have put up some crazy, sick FA's on the Captain; you know, like A12 or something. They'd be unrepeated to this day because no one would be willing to take 400 foot falls onto ledges...
D'Wolf
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MisterE
Social climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 26, 2012 - 02:39am PT
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Ha! True dat -D'Wolf. Crap - forgot about the motorcycle one!
I had just sold my Norton 750 Commando because I kept blowing out the bottom end, and I was no motorcycle mechanic. Man, I loved that bike, though.
I bought a Moto Guzzi 1000, the two-speed version because I liked the old school bikes, but wanted something that wouldn't rip my hand off the handlebars and blow the seals with low-end compression. I was living in Bellingham, but would ride down to Seattle to see friends occasionally. I loved taking Highway 99, and was just north of Marysville one winter when I hit a bridge with sheet ice and braked just like the car in front of me. The nice thing about the Guzzi two-speed was it had huge guard-bars front and back on both sides, so when I went down on the ice, I wasn't crushed - just sliding at 50 MPH smooth as snot on my side. The bad news was, I had sliding cars both in front of me and behind me at that speed. The car in front of me came up fast as it braked, and i had to decide whether to go under it, or push away and get run over by the car behind me that was also in a full slide. During that time of processing, I could see the car in front sliding off the road at the end of the bridge, and I held on a little longer, sliding towards that same precipice
As the car in front spun and went down the edge, I finally focused on the car behind me, gauged the necessary survival push somehow and let go of the Guzzi. I came to a spinning stop just in front of the car behind me (merely feet), and neither my motorcycle nor I nor the car behind me went into that ravine. We both got up/out of our respective positions, and peered down into the ditch where 4-6 cars were piled up. A woman who had just bought a new car was weeping by the side of the road about her vehicle 2 deep in the mess.
I got on my Guzzi and rode away clean.
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Sierra Ledge Rat
Mountain climber
Old and Broken Down in Appalachia
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Aug 26, 2012 - 02:48am PT
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I can tell you that there is no other feeling like being sent on a mission that is suicidal.
At first you can't believe that it will actually happen. You believe that someone with some sense will scrub the mission.
Then, as the "GO TIME" nears you start feeling a bit uneasy. "Surely this mission would have been CNX (cancelled) by now." But it hasn't.
Then it's time to start your engines and you realize you're screwed. You realize that this is your last day on earth. But there's nothing you can do about it because of honor and obligation. And you accept your death before it has even happened.
They say that death is peaceful, but not at that point in the game.
It's a lot like climbing - except in climbing it's all voluntary to a point. Once you commit to a difficult climb, it's a lot like being in prison -- except you have a greater chance of falling to your death. You can't just walk off the court and head for the shower.
Sometimes the struggle to quit a climb is more difficult that the stuggle that got you in that mess in the first place.
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MisterE
Social climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 26, 2012 - 03:02am PT
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I have been close many times, but not by the decision of others sending me to that place - I imagine that is a crazy place to have to be. Unimaginable difficulty - I can only sympathize, not empathize.
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mynameismud
climber
backseat
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Aug 28, 2012 - 04:52pm PT
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John Doe
Occasionally people notice I walk with a slight limp, on the rare occasion that they notice and ask why, I tell them it is do to stupidity. Reason, playing chicken is stupid but that is how it happened. As a result of my episode of stupidity I hit the corner of a building at about 50 MPH. I did manage to miss the mailboxes, guide wire, telephone pole and car. I just clipped the rain gutter down spout with my head but hit the building with my shoulder. The guy behind me thought for sure I was dead since I was spread eagle 4' from the ground spinning in circles before hitting the ground and tumbling around like a rag doll before sliding to a stop.
I do remember becoming conscious, I was yelling and cursing full volume at some guy in a car that had stopped to ask if I was ok. I remember trying to stand up and taking a step to have my left leg collapse and send me face first into the dirt. So I crab walked over to the corner of the building that I just hit, rested my ass there and tried to put it all back together. I knew my knee was screwed. A person walked out of the building looked at me looked around then went back in. A bit later someone else came out and asked a question. That was when I began to realize all was not well. I could not answer since I could not really remember anything.
After a while I ended up in the Hospital. No ID, motorcycle was still registered to the person I had bought it from, a brain that was still trying to figure out how to work again. I slipped into and out of a coma for the next Month or so. Initially when I woke up I would be in restraints since I had pulled out all the tubes when not restrained. This also means that if you briefly come to consciousness there is not way to page a nurse. I do remember coming to a couple of times.
One time two nurses were talking about sex. I suppose it was a safe place, since who was going to talk about what they were saying. But for what ever reason my mind picked up on it and in my mind they were young and beautiful. Which when I manage to peel an eye open they were. The one gal kinda gasped then they both walked out. Soon a whole herd of folks came streaming in. I remember wiggling fingers to say yes. I remember my mind starting to put things together. Like why the sheets moved every time I did. The first time they pulled those sheets loose from my bed sores will not be easily forgotten. Then there was the first time I walked with assistance. The first time I tried to put crutches together while on morphine. This is a long story that perhaps I should write down the best that I can.
Was not supposed to walk again or do much else. Played soccer for years, a few 14,000 ft peaks, NIAD, Martial Arts. Put myself through school and got a job, took night classes, got good grades. So far beating the odds, but that was one bad decision.
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Norwegian
Trad climber
Placerville, California
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death is one of our spiritual possessions;
a currency of sort,
in the eternal economy.
it is a sacred entity;
something of which we barter
with the universal spirits.
if you are protecting and hording
your life, which is merely your immature death,
then you are living in spiritual debt.
spend it wisely,
youths.
elders.
infants.
it is not tragic, ours death.
no, it is beautiful and something
to strive for.
my wife, just two days ago,
told me that she watched
me become her widower.
but it didn't happen,
it was merely her fears stiring her complacent and sedentary being.
i "nearly" was swept from this biological plane,
right in front of her protective eyes....
she was controlling traffic upon a camp road over
which i was creating hazards.
50' up a dead tree, her girth at my point maybe 10 inches,
40' of rotten top above me,
wires 300 degrees around me,
a structure hogging 40 degrees,
i had only 20 complicated degrees (through two other trees)
into which i could fall this beast...
i had a guy line directing my hope,
and a good, strong friend pulling this rope...
i made my face cut,
waddled my spurs around her trunk
and proceeded with my back cut...
she begins her descent,
the tip gets mildly snagged in the branches of
her neighbor and this entanglement rips off
the top 30' and it falls back at me....
i see this hazard upon me and lean as far
to the right as my personal rigging will allow,
and the top grazes my by 6 inches...
grazes the main pg&e lines by six inches...
all this in front of spouses concerned eyes,
you wanna know what is funny about this?
she was barely phased.
not shaken. not upset.
she told the awaiting cars it'll be about
5 minutes.
now the guy holding and pulling my retired climbing rope?
he ran unto my wife and cried (though he wont admit it)
on her shoulder.
on the ground i told them...
"i've a knack at living.
i'll die when im ready to die, and not before."
what else?
i charged not a dime to the land owner on which this hazard dwelled.
no, instead i traded the job for the two antique beds in
which my beautiful daughters awaken their sleeping dreams.
you and see the exchange?
the new and hopeful dreams of young loves,
cost me and my spouse merely a fraction of my death.
good riddence.
in the words of our departed ken kesey...
"how do you like you blue-eyed boy know? mr. death."
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michael feldman
Mountain climber
millburn, nj
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I had one while climbing in the Tetons several years ago. While being awake for 68 hours and lost at times, I was comforted by seeing a faceless "man" in all white constantly perched above in the rocks watching over me. A religious person (which I am not) would call him an angel. I knew that he was not real, but having him up there gave me inexplicable comfort and made me feel that I would be ok. In the end, I chalked this up to being really tired and worn out, and not eating or drinking for 30 hours on top of the lack of sleep. Then I saw a review for "The Third Man Factor" (I think in Climbing magazine) so I decided to read it. Completely fascinating - and I found out that I am not the only one who experienced what I did. Indeed, it is apparently "relatively" common over the years. Even if you never experienced it, the book is a great adventure and science read combined. Here's a link to it on Amazon (and no, I have nothing to do with the book or the author, etc.): http://www.amazon.com/The-Third-Man-Factor-Impossible/dp/1602861072
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