Dru

Is a something like a pet carrier? A little hutch with breathing holes? Those sound cool. I gotta get one. Then my partners can drag me up the walls with less effort on my part

if the plane takes off in the morning you can start the night before and drink all night.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,' Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - 'Tis the wind and nothing more!' Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore.' But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only, That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered - Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before - On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.' Then the bird said, `Nevermore.' Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore - Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of "Never-nevermore."' But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore - What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking `Nevermore.' This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet violet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted - On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore - Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Fortunately shark repellant probably won't be needed for a flight within the lower 48. Bunglehead, I advise you to choose fat passengers to sit next to. Not only will they provide cushioning during the crash, but their plump bodies will keep you fed longer during the "Alive" period where you eat the casualties until help arrives.

If I had a functional camera, I'd take some photos of my shitty, decayed home town for y'all. Maybe I'll try to hook one up in Detroit. It's less than lovely. Motor City Madness has touched the countryside!

that traverse looks *****

It was a velcro sheep.

Aliens? I use #2 and #3 Camalots.

And your enhanced boobs.

For bonus points you can mention how even though you've done Astroman, Free Salathe, the Complete Pickets Enchainment, Hummingbird Ridge, Nemesis, Cryophobia, The Epitaph, Magic Line, freed CobraCrack and one-hanged Zenyatta Mondatta, Diedre will always be your favorite climb. This makes you seem human to the little people.

I guess you are going by the grades in the McLane guide too... most would call Slot Machine 5.8 and Sickle 5.9. The final grade of Ultimate everything is debatable, but you are right, it feels pretty easy for 10b, even though it is pumpy and the pro is fiddly the holds are quite large and if you heel hook placing pro is manageable. On the other hand, the Bourdon Guide calls Form 11a!

Another convert to the worship of Pinky

The little village of B'ar Tab has been invaded 5 times by American forces in search of Osama bin Laden. So far they have found nothing but it doesn't stop them from returning again and again.

LOL

Youre gonna die.

The only difference between Rockies quartzite and Rockies limestone is that on quartzite, the rockfalls are bigger.

Can you get me a beer while you're up?

Why don't you just downclimb there Bob? Its only 5.6 and then you won't need to take a rope at all.

I'd expect enough snow to prevent climbing but not enough snow to ski by September We didn't do the south face of Asgard, we did the 5.6 SW ridge. And we did the 5.8 Koedt-Rowat route on Gladsheim. As usual the guidebook grades are trustworthy and directly correlate to the technical grades used at other climbing areas.

Maybe it was a fisher

TR of the Month!

hard to get that smell off my clothes yech or the stain

I take offense to rat-bastard. My father was a and your mother smelled of elderberries

ever since PP moderated this thread there's a secret 4th page that doesn't show up anywhere else that you have to post to, to see

Squeeel like a marmot