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Jello
Social climber
No Ut
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 1, 2009 - 01:07am PT
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Nice comments, all. Especially nice to read thoughtful/playful comments from other old fogey's on this board, including PA, RGold and Jogill. Those were wonderful, simple times, when safety was not looked for or found in gear, but rather was expected of each individual as alluded to by RGold, etc. Really, good climbers back then DID NOT LET GO OF THE MOUNTAIN! And they knew their limits and climbed well within them. Even with this attitude, Harold Goodrow climbed Goodrow's Wall (5.10C) free in 1949. John Gill climbed the Thimble (12A) in the early 60's, Pat Ament climbed Supremacy Crack (5.11), and Greg Lowe climbed Macabre Roof (12C) in 1967. Innocent times, but powerful...
Growing up in the Lowe household was interesting also for the pets we had. Before I graduated high school at the age of 17, and immediately headed off to California to join the flowered hippy masses, our home and grounds were at one time or other host to the following critters (and the list is not at all exhaustive): rattlesnakes (which Greg and I used to milk into mason jars - why? I don't know. Greg's index finger got snagged once, and the finger went black and purple streaks ran up his arm), iguanas up to three feet long, alligators and crocodiles that eventually grew even larger, blue racers, boa constrictors, king snakes, blow snakes, garder snakes, other snakes and lizards, horny toads, normal (platonic?) toads, frogs of several varieties, armadillos, squirrels, chipmunks, skunks, lambs, lions (of the mountain variety), dingoes, bats, owls, eagles, hawks, foxes, coyotes, parakeets, dogs big and small, cats, badgers, a three-legged bobcat, wolves, fish, horses, cattle and many others.
Pride of place eventually went to a bear named Bruno who dad used to walk on a leash on the trails behind the house until he grew so big that eventually Bruno was walking Dad. In my 15th and 16th year I helped Dad build a motel, called the Rim Rock,on the edge of Capitol Reef National Park. The wolves, lions, Bruno and some of the other animals were retired there in a classic American "Roadside Attraction"-type of private zoo. Dad sold the motel in the mid-70's, but you can still go stay there, today. Not too sentimental - when Bruno finally had to be put down - Dad put up the meat in nice little packages and shared it widely with family, friends and neighbors. Bruno was tough and really gamey, but I felt honor-bound to take some of his great spirit into my body.
All of the above, and much more besides, is absolutely true.
-JelloFeelsBadForCaptiveAnimalsButThat'sTheWayItWasBackThen
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Patrick Sawyer
climber
Originally California now Ireland
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A certain person, for whatever reasons, wants to bump the "Doug Robinson, Sean Jones, rap bolt South face of Half Dome!" thread ;-), when this thread is so much a better bump.
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Toker Villain
Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
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Who was it who said, "I never name something I might have to eat"?
Pretty timely that hear "the rest of the story". You never told me that Bruno went to Capitol Reef (and the NPS was down on climbers for the next 20 years. Bruno didn't ,... naw,.. just wishful thinking I guess.)
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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Jeff
Have really enjoyed the "oldies but goodies" and the family stories. You were so fortunate to have a dad that introduced you to some of the better things in life before you could be tainted by the norm. My dad was at sea most of my life and when he was home it was at home he stayed. A wonderful man, but made it difficult to get out at such a young age.
Foott and I got started climbing in the Boy Scouts at a summer work camp for a winter ski area in 1957. One has to remember that RR also started in the Boy Scouts. Learned how to rappel on hemp and with old steel shackles. Showed up at Indian Rock with our "state of the art gear" and were fortunate to run into Roper who told us we were close to killing ourselves with our gear and technique. Thus began a relationship with the old Rock Climbing Section of the Sierra Club and a host of "Dads". Roper, Al Macdonald, Steck, Carl Weissner and an endless group of older and wiser individuals that altered our lives forever.
The following photos are from 1957-58, when our climbing turf encompassed the Berkeley Hills and Pinnacles, and we had just begun to venture out into the wonders of Yosemite and beyond.
Early days at Indian rock, below I-12
State of the art shoes and the only was we knew how to rappel.
Grizzly Peak, going down was so much fun, why would anyone want to do anything else?
Pinnacle Rock, Berkeley Hills-new shoes and still working on that technique.
Footski throwing off the rappel rope, Pinnacles National Monument
cheers
Joe McKeown
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Reilly
Mountain climber
Monrovia, CA
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Jeff,
What a menagerie! Were you Gregg's 'doctor'? You probably didn't wear helmets riding your bicycles either, right? HO.
Thanks so much for sharing,
Reilly
ps I'm sure you don't remember when we met at Cliff Hudson's (or maybe Geeting's) BITD. Kayleen was there (we were just friends) along with the bunch of russkies I was herding.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Aug 22, 2009 - 11:51am PT
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Exquisite Jello Bump!
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Aug 22, 2009 - 11:57am PT
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In our garage when I was growing up, my Dad kept a 120' coil of Columbia white nylon climbing rope. I don't think he had used it much, taken it on a few trips to the Maroon Bells or Longs Peak ... but that rope cast a real spell on me. Eventually some friends and I borrowed it for out own "climbing" experiments, although we did not yet know how to tie knots, belay or rappel.
An odd part of the story is that the same rope is still in my Dad's garage. I get nostalgic just seeing it.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Aug 22, 2009 - 05:24pm PT
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Love those Little Little Joe shots, too! Back when rappeling was traumatic and blistering...LOL
I bet Roper's version of the Riot Act was colorful indeed!
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BlackGeorge
Social climber
Utah
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Aug 22, 2009 - 07:16pm PT
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The Mace, Sedona is 1959 now.
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donini
Trad climber
Ouray, Colorado
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Aug 23, 2009 - 10:36am PT
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Great shot! Really good composition. You should get it framed Jeff.
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rgold
Trad climber
Poughkeepsie, NY
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Aug 23, 2009 - 12:32pm PT
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A rainy Sunday here in the Gunks and Jello's wonderful thread started me down a sixties nostalgia trip:
Kevin Bein powering up Matinee, Shawangunks.
RG shivering up Junior, winter in the Gunks.
RG on more winter Gunking on Oblique Twique.
RG soloing High Exposure, Gunks, in the days before chalk bags.
RG huffing and puffing up Bloody Mary, Poko-Moonshine, NY.
RG leading at Devil's Lake, WI.
RG leading at[ Devil's Lake, WI. Is that as#@&%e gonna put in a pin yet or what?
Steve Derenzo leading Flyfoot Slab at Devil's Lake, WI.
Steve Derenzo pulling hard at Devils, Lake, WI with tied-off pin for pro.
Dave Slinger, local farmer, Wisconsin state legislator, and 5.10 soloist extraordinaire takes a break from milking the cows
(note especially the high-tech footwear) at Devil's Lake, WI.
RG on Guide's wall, Storm Point.
Ray Schrag doing Gill's one-handed ascent of Cutfinger Crack, Jenny Lake Boulders.
RG on summit of Mt. Moran (Skillet Glacier Route).
Peter Gardiner leading the Black Face on the Lower Exum Ridge.
Ray Schrag at Heigermeister's Boulders, Estes Park. John Gill providing all the spotting you used to get back in the day.
Pat Ament leading on a new route in the Royal Gorge, CO.
Bob Williams bouldering in Fontainbleau, France. Note the old-school crashpad.
Two ropes of two on the North Face of Bugaboo Spire (RG and Matt Hale out ahead, Pete Ramins leading, photo by Joe Kelsey)
Hip belay on the East Ridge of Bugaboo Spire.
RG on Hobbit Book, Tuoloume
Stannard Leading A5 (before downgrading) on the West Face of Sentinel, Yosemite.
Matt Hale at the top of Arrowhead Arete, Yosemite.
Matt Hale on Cerberus (Tricouni Nail) Needles, SD.
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Largo
Sport climber
The Big Wide Open Face
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Aug 23, 2009 - 01:25pm PT
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Great sots, Rick. I could look at those and ones like them all day long.
I also did Sentinel West Face on pitons (but Kim Schmitz led that hideous A5 flake) and that was a scary business, leading OR following.
JL
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Aug 23, 2009 - 01:48pm PT
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I don't think anyone here can equal RG for the range of first-hand 60s climbing shots.
Hghlights from all over the country while I was trying to figure out how to rappel with a clothesline.
Cheers!
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John Moosie
climber
Beautiful California
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Aug 23, 2009 - 03:12pm PT
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oh man. This thread is getting better and better. Thanks Jello for starting it. I got a big smile imagining that menagerie of pets your family had. You certainly come from a courageous family. That makes me happy.
RG, love the old school crash pad. LOL
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Dudeman
Trad climber
California/Idaho/Beyond
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Aug 23, 2009 - 03:56pm PT
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Thanks for sharing these totally awesome photos and stories!!! Just goes to show that although equipment and techniques may have improved over the years vision, boldness and skill have not necessarily increased.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Aug 23, 2009 - 05:55pm PT
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Rgold- Thanks for raiding your slidebox! I hope that you will crosspost some of those fabulous shots elsewhere. Any more Fontainebleau bouldering shots?
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Jello
Social climber
No Ut
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Topic Author's Reply - Aug 24, 2009 - 01:35am PT
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Great pics, Rich. As Chiloe said, it would be hard to equal that selection and breadth of coverage of 60's climbing.
------------------
It occurs to me that I've given a lot of space earlier in this thread to credit my Dad. But there was a Mom involved, too. Without Elgene Siefertson Lowe, the current tribe could never have walked the path. Mom was a dancer and thespian who was working at the Boeing Company in Seattle during WWII. As a war hero Dad came through on a speaking tour to promote the sale of war bonds. He and Mom met, and that was that. They married right after the war and moved to Michigan, where Dad attended law school, and the two started a family.
Here's Mom on honeymoon in Alta, Utah:
Upon graduation from law school, the young family moved to Ogden, Utah, in 1949, the year before I was born. Here's Mom with Mike, Melinda and Greg:
Mom never let her own fears for her kids interfere with their dreams. Always supportive, she sewed my first haul bag, packed my food for my first overnight solo (when I was 14!) and cheered from the sidelines over the next five decades of adventures. Dad died in 1984. Mom was 59, and although she never found another man she could marry, she took up dancing again, travelling around the country and winning dozens of awards in ballroom dancing:
In the early 2000's Mom developed debilitating arthritis. At about the same time, I developed symptoms of a neurological disease that has now been diagnosed as probably following under the general heading of multiple system atrophy.
We were two active people who had been stopped in our tracks. One of the great gifts of my life has been that I was thus free to move back to Utah and share the last years of Mom's earthly presence with her. Not the least of her gifts to me, was the lesson of the power of unconditional love, which frees and elevates both the giver and reciever.
Here's Mom - The Good Witch - who we also deemed The Queen Of Everything, on her 83nd birthday, October 31, 1995:
Mom passed over a few months later, in February of 2006. We buried her with Dad's ashes in an urn at her feet, a little joke they both would have enjoyed.
On July 4th of this year, I visited their grave with my ex-wife Teri, who was visiting and who loved Mom completely. Teri took this picture:
Then I took this picture of Teri:
And finally, this one of their gravestone:
Their grandkids called them Grandma Nonka and Grandpa Speed. I just call them the best parents ever, and thank each of them for their inspiring examples of how to live and die.
-JelloInFondRemembrance
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WBraun
climber
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Aug 24, 2009 - 01:48am PT
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Thanks Jeff
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rgold
Trad climber
Poughkeepsie, NY
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Aug 24, 2009 - 02:55am PT
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Jeff, you had wonderful parents.
I find that it may take years of perspective to see clearly the blessings our parents have bestowed on us. Sadly, many of us find that by the time the appropriate realizations have penetrated our thick skulls, the time for conveying gratitude is past, and we are left with loving things either left unsaid, or else spoken to cold gray headstones impervious to the warmth of newly acknowledged emotions.
I was lucky enough to be given the chance to repair with my mother the failings that muffled my relations with my dad, but my slide box, as Steve has called it, while full of records of my own adventures, has little in it of my parents and my life with them. And so, Jeff, and not to minimize in any way your travails, I judge you doubly lucky to have the family you have and to find, as the years go by, your slide box overflowing with reminders of the richness of your heritage.
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