pope

What do you want with her, Jimbo? I could hook you up, but you're just going to be terribly disppointed. If you don't have your big wall act together, she'll cut you free with her belay knife. And she doesn't tolerate any funny business...ask me, I know. If you so much as suggest a bivouac she'll drop you like the three foot put.

Hey Hemlock, I knew you'd make it. Nice place here. Didn't you just love the Neutered Prince quiz question? "Who did the first ascent of blah blah blah?" Answer: "I did." Does somebody need a pat on the back?

Charlie, Donna's for real. That's not "maligoo". You've got to meet this broad.

It is said that the sun never sets on Big Lou's schlanger.

There's just something about the little vixen. Believe me, I tried. She's dangerously beautiful, to the point I couldn't even concentrate on the moutain. And she'll make you believe you're going to close the deal, until bivouac time, when you realize she's all business: big wall business. I would imagine she's got a love interest...but I'm certain she's broke a few hearts. There is danger here, danger for the fool who wants more than a female climbing partner.

Gentlemen, hang on to your helmets: looks like Donna's back in town! Now I've climbed some of the world's biggest walls with gals who could hold their own (and mine too), but Donna rocks. She's no Belay Betty, no sir. She can lead out on hairy, wet, flint-hard stone, she can hump loads, and she can even write her name in the snow. If you think you'd like to hook up with her, you've got to learn from my mistakes and not get caught over night up on some big rock. I tried to be a gentleman, but I'm pretty sure I ruined our big wall partnership that night. Just keep your mind on the business and try not to be distracted by her sensuously saucy good looks, and she'll be pushing back the granite frontiers for you.

Peace Arch, Fremont Troll...perfect. I'll help you drill. I've climbed on some artificial climbs, glued up on bridge supports, and just had a blast.

Is that George Bush, Sr. talking?

Yeah, there's no sense in being foolish. But if it's safety we're after, let's top-rope. If it's leading and adventure/thrills we want, give the rock a chance: start from the ground.

Actually, bolts are appropriate when placed on the lead where no other reasonable pro will work. I prefer to toprope, rather than beat the rock into submission in the name of "leading" on rap-placed bolts. If you rap bolt, then "RP" stands for real puss.

May I call you a shameless coward?

Bolts are for Frenchies and other cowards.

How big is Lou's tool? It's so big it plays golf with the President. It's so big it has three moons. It's so big it's got a basement and a lobby. It's so big he can get action simultaneously in three counties. It's so big it's got a snow patch that lasts through July. It's so big it doesn't return Spielberg's calls. It's so big it's got rappel anchors.

My memories pretty hazy, but I could sware that Mike told me he was there when the block fell...right under it! He apparently got the end of his rope cut, but then turned around and climbed it before the dust settled.

Mike Massey. I'll take the $200, but I don't want what's behind the curtain, I'm pretty sure.

Sex Pistols? My second guess would be New York Dolls.

I thoroughly enjoy going to the Post Office in Leavenworth and loading the juke box with every Elvis selection available, then experiencing the irritation of the local hicks as they unpatiently wait for their Bon Jovi song to come up.

Listen, boys, don't project your Big Lou fantasies onto everybody else in the climbing community. I am not queer...I'm a recovering homosexual, and as such, I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with Big Lou. Alpine Kay, I'm not in the way. Go live your dream. And by the way, Aidin': you should try free climbing. Nevertheless, I keep hearing rumors that Lou really is larger than life. I talked to a fellow up by Pebble Creek who said that Lou's unit is so big, it makes its own weather. A gal I met up at Paradise said that McDonald's in Ashford is serving Coke in four sizes: small, medium, large, and Big Lou. A drunk in the Mountain Bar at Paradise said that Lou's unit is so big, Messner was forced to bivouac when he tried to climb it. Look, I know this subject is a bit naughty, but I too am a big boy, and I think mountaineering presents special challenges to those of us who must live with this anatomical abnormality. Just this weekend, my unit suffered three crampon puncture wounds and was slammed in the car door twice. I'm thinking of forming some kind of support group, calling it something like Cascades' Woodsmen perhaps.

Aidin'....I detect in your response an unusual degree of discomfort with public discussion of this topic. May I ask whether you have ever been employed as a Jansport sales representative?

Crazy, you ignorant f#@K, if you would just read MEMOIRS OF A MOUNTIN' GUIDE (that' s mountin', as in mounting, and I'm not talking taxidermy), you would know that Lou and Jim confessed to each other that they'd been with girls, and that they could die up on Index without regrets. Lou explained that they did not, however, disclose to each other the names of their dates, because their father had taught them a gentleman's code of honor: apparently, if a woman was kind enough to let you have your way with her, you shouldn't go spreading her name all over town. Gee, it's just this kind of goofy story that makes Lou's book so fun to read. What a life!

I'm pretty innocent, Cappo. What's an EWW? Anyway, Lou also relates how many, many people ask him why mountain guides are so eager to jump out of their clothes and take a dip in the creek. Lou explains that mountain guides take care of themselves and tend to stay in pretty good shape, and as such, they are proud of the way their bodies look. His book is so full of anecdotes about nudity and mountaineering, it just made me wonder whether those strange three-track ski trails on the Muir Snow Field were made by....

Just finished reading Lou whitaker's book for the second time. You know the one. What a life. I mean, some of the stories in there make the guy seem larger than life. We all know about the Denali rescue where he and brother Jim picked up the chopper (which couldn't produce any lift at that altitude) and threw it up into the rarified air. But unless you've read his book, you probably didn't read about how Lou and Jim confessed to each other that they were no longer virgins, the night before their historic ascent of the North Tower of Index Mountain. You probably don't know that Lou's son and gal friend used to go hot tubbing in the buff with Big Lou and his second wife. And I'm sure you never heard how Big Lou and a bunch of Jansport sales reps set a hot tob occupancy record, which, according to Lou, never could have happened if they had been wearing their swim trunks. What I want to know is...first of all, is anybody out in cyberspace who can substantiate this last story? Were you there? If so, was Big Brother Jim there also? And finally, you know what I'm getting around to: Big Lou and Big Jim are big boys....larger than life. Well, if you went tubbing with them, maybe you could tell us all whether they are proportionate.

You know, back in the dark ages, before the Genesis of this mountaineering bulletin board/chat room/CB radio of the 1990's, one would have to go into the mountains in order to assess the conditions of a winter climb. Back then, you couldn't just go "on line" and chat with climbers who could give useful information based on recent experience. Little has changed.

Frank Zappa, Johnny Hartman, Johnny Thunders, Dylan with Cash, Wayne Shorter, Clash, Spice Girls, Big Bowel and the Movements. Hey Dru, did you forget Brian Adams?

Viktor, Sure, a bolt war would be a terrible thing. But look at the Icicle and what a mess it's become. Too many guys (equipped with bolt guns and the illusion that they're doing everybody a favor by making the cliffs safe for girls) are smacking in bolts on every slab in the Canyon. Many climbers I talk to enjoy bold leads and clean rock. They don't want to clip a bolt every three feet. The number of over-protected, over-promoted joke climbs is pathetic. I personally know of climbers who bolt and name climbs they can't lead. What the hell is that? I've been climbing in the Canyon for nearly 20 years, and I know some of the characters whose names you so eagerly drop. Sure, Yoder's lead was a great achievement, but many climbers who repeated the route also feel the satisfaction with being able to honestly handle climbing at that grade. The latest trend, of adding chicken bolts to climbs which require a higher level of skill and composure, has got to stop. I don't agree that a first ascentionist owns the rock and has jurisdiction over future modifications. Once a route has been established, many, many people develop the skill necessary for safe passage, and the route becomes part of the local tradition. I feel great sympathy for Yoder's gal, but one climber's mistakes don't justify modifying a route. Anybody can get hurt any place on any climb. If 5.10R is not the right kind of challenge, there are so many well-bolted climbs in the canyon. Please, let's not continue this ridiculous trend. I know Jim, but I don't know Gordon. I certainly want to get along with everybody. But the exponential increase of bolts and, in particular, the transformation of traditionally bold leads into girlfriend climbs is out of control. I don't see the bolt slingers engaging in some kind of forum before they permanently deface the rock. Viktor, please send me a private message detailing how I can get a hold of Jim and/or Gordon.