Dwayner

Haireball! Thanks for the history! I knew Jeff (although I didn't have the pleasure of working with him much.....I was usually on glacier duty) and I did hear about Katie's leg. Oy! There was a strange curse lurking around the original Leavenworth Alpine Guides. I think less than half of us are still alive. First there was Dave Stutzman, a fellow I guided with quite a bit who was certainly one of the best alpinist going when he met his demise in an avalanche (in Montana, they say). Then Der Sportsmann in L-worth burned down where we had our office and our gear depot. Then Karl Schneider, guide and manager dies (apparently also in an avalanche, in Peru). Then Jeff, then Bob Nelson (big screamer on Mt. Goode?) and fortunately Katie survived her calamity. I never worked for the guide service after Donini sold it to Katie: I was in Israel during the next couple of summers. Also toned down the intensity of my climbing fanaticism, finished graduate school, and took to climbing only part-time, and that's probably why I'm still alive, I suppose. Anyway, raise a glass to our dearly departed guiding buddies! - Dwayner P.S. Would your first name happen to be Curt/Curtis? [This message has been edited by Dwayner (edited 06-07-2001).]

BIGGEST CONFESSION OF ALL!!!!Dudes! I feel soooooooooooooo guilty! You know, at "the Comps"?, I was, like, hangin' out in ISO waiting for my event, headphones on listening to Green Day and others of a phat and rad kind. Doin' a little yoga in my Verve pants. Doin' a little sequence miming while sportin' a beret like the one Monica L. used to wear (workin' on my individuality) and admiring my new tattoo featuring the words "Clip 'n Go!!!" in a bold font, along with a biner and draw. And wondering if I should take the bone out of my nose. I had a banana and some yogurt (LOW FAT, guys!) for lunch the day before and half a bagel without butter OR cream cheese that night along with some dried brocolli chips. And then for breakfast, I had two tablespoons of low fat cottage cheese and an apple slice. O.K., here comes the confession....oh I feel so bad....O.K., just a second.....alright, I've got the courage (think "courage", Dwayner, THINK "COURAGE"!!!) Alright this is the scene. I was there in ISO...and it was a fellow competitor's birthday (initials might just possible be C.S., or was it K.B.?) Here it is..........I HAD A SLICE OF CHOCOLATE CAKE!!!!! Oh my! Did I just say that???? Gosh! I feel much better now!

Hey! It's happy hour! Did you get your fill of pseudo-nachos, scrawny chicken wings "o'fire" and some of them machine-sliced spongy carrot sticks with "ranch dip"? (tastes mo like sheep dip, but that's another story). Here, make a little more room on your plate for a few extra cocktail weenies in BBQ sauce. The bartender seems extra-service-oriented tonight and I'm going to give him a couple extra quarters when were all through drinkin' and snackin'! Would that be about "closin' time?". No doubt! Now that I've got y'all in the mood.......and speakin of weenies, cocktail or otherwise.....I've been reading the various comments about drillin' and boltin'; boltin' and drillin'. And that, mixed with Pope's dirty mouth, I got to be thinking. Especially with this Girl- Repellent discussion. Could all of this drilling be a compensation, frustration or conquest thing? I ain't no psychoanalyst but this whole, or should I say "hole" thing about drills and holes might have some deeper meaning. You drill your hole, itself a provocative act, and then you fill it, and then you secure or celebrate your conquest by adding a hangar. Very primal. Maybe we can cure these sport-climbers by giving them gift-certificates to the Deja-Vu or Hooters. Perhaps this could be just the thing to get them to put down they're rock-rapin' machines and enjoy the crags on their (the crags) own terms. Just an idea, that's all. Alright!! Our man behind the bar is refillin' the little bowl full of Chex party mix with them cool square pretzel things. Righteous! And while you're at it, another pitcher, please, guv'na, and a toast to all of you, both Trad-Monkeys and Sport-Dweebs! (although especially to you Trad-monkeys!) May the Lou be with You! - Dwayner [This message has been edited by Dwayner (edited 06-07-2001).]

Hey Haireball: Would your wife happen to be Katie Kimball? I worked for Donini for several years and I recall we had a couple of excellent female guides on the crew: Katie (a nurse?) and Allison Osius, the latter is or was involved in Climbing Magazine as some sort of editor. Leavenworth Alpine Guides......them were the days. I was often assigned to snow/ice duty on the north side of Mt. Baker where I dreamed of the warm fun in the sun in Leavenworth (where the girls usually got to work) and the free client-purchased beer at the end of the day. Oh well..... And by the way, DONINI STILL KICKS BUTT!!!! - Dwayner [This message has been edited by Dwayner (edited 06-07-2001).]

And do they come in pastels and other fun colors? Come on, ladies! Really! (Sorry, my Bru-tha's! I couldn't resist!) Love, Dwayner [This message has been edited by Dwayner (edited 06-05-2001).]

Greetings Fellow Crag-Hoppers and Alpine Hone-Dogs! Been thinkin.....(hey, just a second, I gotta grab a cold one from the reeeeeeeeeeeeeeefriger-a-mater. O.K., now where were we?) Climbing has 1) never helped me get a girlfriend, 2) has never helped me keep a girlfriend. In fact,I've come to the conclusion that climbing is a bona-fide girl repellent. (I mean real climbing; not that wimpified, take-my-girlfriend-to-the-bolt-grid-sport-climbing mish-mash). And let me apologize now to the ladies, since this is more or less directed at the dudes, but your opinions on the subject would be more than welcome. (Can't speak for the women because I ain't one.) I've witnessed many shameless attempts to lure the more sophisticated gender with tales of daring feats (usually interpreted as egotistical spray), bouldering moves (incomprehensible as worthwhile by the uninitiated) and gear demonstrations (yawn inducers). Perhaps the most pathetic thing I ever witnessed was a number of years ago, while driving over Snoqualmie Pass, I was ordered to place a climbing rope in the back window of the vehicle in order to attract girlies. And what were the expections with that stupid scene? Were girls supposed to flash us, motion us over to the next exit and then beg us to give them vicarious route beta while they mauled us with love? Forget it! I suspect that many of the fellers out there invite girls along because they want to, you know,......Come on, dudes, strip away the flimsy veneer of self-delusion and you know it's true! This primal urge could, in fact, be a less recognized force behind the sport-climbing craze, where it seems that there are lots of boys and girls climbing together. (And to head off some of you self-righteous p.c. spray-meisters....I don't give a rat's rear who YOU climb with [including sheep] and I ain't keeping you from doing anything....I'm just throwing out some bait for discussion, so if you can't handle it, go back to your WTO rally and bitch about importing cheese from Angola.) So, any reflections on the subject? - Dwayner....I can't believe I get paid so well to drink so much!!!

Fine discussions, mis hermanos! Hey! Whatever gave you the idea that I drink a bit of al....................cohol? Douglas! Haven't seen the Leaving Las Vegas movie, but it sounds like somethin' worth watching. Are the booze scenes good or is it just a bunch of gambling, tits and mayhem? Are they serving up doubles and triples or just candy drinks, you know, daiquiris, Long Island Ice-teas, crap like that....(By the way, a lot of those girlie-drinks [sorry, ladies] were respectable back in the day when Trader Vic's was in full swing!) Mr. Kassidy: this Jenna Bush.of whom you speak...uh...does she like married men? So one of Fred Beckey's girlfriends ran off to the circus, eh? Interesting life, that Bread Fecky. He once told me that his brother Helmy was a swimsuit model. But that's neither here nor there...Try this on for size...I've met a few dudes who have tried to get some sympathy mileage out of "my woman doesn't understand my climbing". (The opposite of the classic refrain in "Theme from Shaft"..."no one understands him but his woman.....John Shaft!....They say that Shaft is one bad mutha [prompt interruption by chorus of girls:] Shut yo mouth! [apologetic resumption of lyrics by vocalist:] Just talkin' 'bout Shaft!!!") This woeful approach can be used to get a free drink from your buddies, or a hug and maybe more from some new female y'just met in the bar. My opinion? Buck up, matey! Save the whining for filling your SUV with overpriced gas. Tell the girls you're some sort of day-trader (rather than admitting to unemployment) or that you got some fancy upscale programming job with stock options (instead of confessing that you work in some sort of miserable rock-gym). Once they dig you for your loveable, lieing personality, you can drop the bombshell about the mountains and so forth. They might think it's cool and first but once they find out that you'd rather be out craggin' with your buddies on the weekends, well, watch out my friends!!! - Dwayner......hiccupp! P.S. I LOVE!!!! watching reruns of "The Love Boat" just to catch Isaac the Bartender serving up them drinks with a smile and a double-finger point! Looks like Shangri-La to me!!!

Pope: Sounds like you got a good service to provide. To answer your questions: DID YOU STEP ON A PITON WHEN YOUR BUDDIES WEREN'T LOOKING? Actually they WERE looking and asked me if it was comfortable to actually rest on or would they need to move off it quickly. WHEN YOU RELATED YOUR LATEST FREE CLIMBING ACCOMPLISHMENT TO THE BOYS IN THE BAR, DID YOU OMIT THE PART ABOUT SNEAKING A REST FROM THAT FIXED SLING? Which time? Can't remember, but probably not. How I climb a route is nobody's business as long as I'm not endangering them or acting in an environmental dubious manner. Oooh! I tugged on a sling! "Bailiff! Wack his pee-pee!" I suppose it depends on if the individual is some sort of pop-off big-mouthed braggard who is claiming a bunch of major scenarios but is really full of dog-doo. Then maybe someone could call the bluff. I really don't care that much. DID YOU REHEARSE THE HELL OUT OF THAT BOULDER PROBLEM, ONLY TO LATER CLIMB IT IN FRONT OF STRANGERS WHO HAD NO IDEA HOW YOU COULD BE SO SMOOTH? Hey, Pope! Ever been to UW Rock, Spire Rock, etc.? Those places are loaded with folks who got the whole dang place wired, and I would suspect that a few of them either don't climb elsewhere, or don't climb as well elsewhere. A few years ago I actually met a "Spire Rock Specialist". The guy could climb over that thing like a rhesus monkey on uppers but had never been elsewhere. Had to have an audience to perform, though. HAVE YOU BEEN THINKING UNCLEAN THOUGHTS ABOUT KATIE BROWN? Katie Brown? Is she legal now? uhhh....... Hey! Leave her alone; she's probably a very sweet young lady. WERE YOU TEMPTED TO PINCH YOUR PARTNER'S LYCRA-CLAD BUTT AT THE BELAY STATION? Talk is cheap. I just go ahead and pinch to get it outta of my system and then apologize if my climbing buddy objects. (They usually do but nevertheless understand the temptation.) DID YOU TALK YOUR GIRLFRIEND INTO LEADING YOU UP THAT SPOOKY PITCH THEY HAVEN'T RETRO-BOLTED YET? What girlfriend? Mountaineering is a GIRL-REPELLENT! From what I've been reading, you should know that, eh Pope? - Dwayner Running dry on the barley-pops. What time is it? Whoaaaaaa! Better shuffle off to the AM/PM for some refills!

Well, as of noon, Friday, it's been Miller time, and I was fortunately able to escape the rambunctious weather of Saturday by venturing to eastern Oregon (don't worry about it, someone else was driving...and yes, I still retain a license.) Anyway, enough about me. The question that's been haunting me all day is......Anybody out there have a Big Lou weekend? Hey! Just askin'! - Dwayner (Ouch! I thought these things were supposed to be twist-tops!)

Professor Adams: Trust me. Me n' Iambone.....we ain't the same person. It would be pretty weird if we were given the testy exchanges we have had! Nope. Mr.'bone be way younger than myself and seems to work in a rock "gym", a place I would visit only if I were desperate for entertainment. Is it Saturday morning?.....how'd I get this headache??? - Dwayner, whose going to check out the action in Oregon instead of hanging out in wetsville this weekend.

Just set down an ice-cold lager to see whazzup and it looks as if there is some need for a little edumacation! Pro_Popper! Come here! Step outside for a minute. It's time for a little man to man chat. Listen up! There are certain words that shouldn't be misspelled. "Incompetent" is one of them. "Loser" is another. You spelled it "looser". Also, same thing regarding your phrase "minuscul cranium capacity": try "miniscule" and "cranial". Nuff said. Better you heard it from me than from some of the meaner A-pipes who lurk around these parts. So, A-Pipes! Back off! The boy has been corrected! Laugh at someone else for the moment. RE: Guides. I was involved in that racket for several years, especially in my '20's. You're right, the pay was ridiculous but I wasn't into money at the time. It was an actual way to get paid to go climbing although it was a HECK OF A LOT OF RESPONSIBILITY and often dangerous for the guide! Yes, I agree that there are some real wieners out there posing as "guides", but there are a few that know what they're doing, and there are even a couple/few from the dreaded RMI who are in their late 40's or early '50's who are still total studs (for example, George Dunn and Joe Horiskey, not to mention Lou....did I mention Lou?) Have a safe, awesome weekend! - Dwayner

Hey Mike: Given the theme of this particular thread, I would surmise that the pictured gentleman in question crapped in the missing sock. And Mr. Pope, according to the various things I've read by you and by Donna, you've crapped in your own sleeping bag, wore (or perhaps are still wearing) some sort of Gore-Tex jump-suit which some Rainier-gaper crapped in, crapped all over The Tooth, and leave racing-stripes in your underwear. Man oh man! Dude! Get a hold of yourself! That's sort of like what cats and dogs do when they're not feeling well. By the way, Mike, that individual in the picture wouldn't happen to be Donna Top-Step on a bad (and short!) hair day, would it? Pope: perhaps you could answer that question. your ppppppppppppppppppppppal, - Dwayner

Mike! You rule! Thanks for the translation. It all makes sense now! aloha, - Dwayner

Pope! In my dream....Big Lou DEFINITELY said, "Mark your 'biners", not "Mark your underwear". The latter, though, does sound like a good idea, unless you have some sort of unique readily identifiable racing stripe that you regularly apply, in which case, the process is automatic. I suspect that's indeed the case with you, Pope. Me n' Donna? Dude! I asked you earlier if she was the fancy betty you used to hang out with (Karen? Kathleen?) whom you referred to as "K-1". Dude....there have been so many! Uh....not really. Personally I have found that contrary to popular belief, climbing is the ultimate Girl-Repellent. (Is that why you've been "experimenting", Pope?) By the way, I think that would make a fine subject of discussion (the Girl-Repellent, not Pope's sexual confusion) but start it as a new topic because we've got some nice poetry and tributes above that shouldn't be spoiled by the possible dubious commentary that will no doubt ensue. Hey all you crag-hoppers and alpine masters! I'm tipping a Mickey's Big Mouth back for you this very moment in order to wish you a splendid climbin' weekend. And Big Lou....that means you too! Be safe out there! - Dwayner

Dudes! I was in a pub in London once with several people I was trying to impress. In the midst of using some animated hand gestures while I was telling a story, I knocked over a FULL PINT of dark ale on a purty girl's light colored dressed. She got up and left. As soon as she was out the door, the boys at the table all high-fived me and then we mourned the loss of a fine beverage. Uh.....I suppose that wasn't very interesting and possibly irrelevant.uh...close-calls? Lemme see....oh yes....back in the early '80's, I was workin' for a guide service. After the end of a hard day's work, I learn that one of the students of a fellow "guide" had dropped a large hex down into a hand crack about thirty feet off the deck below that little 5.9 roof there up above Mountie's Buttress in the Icicle. I scrambled up there, and standing on a few holds, tried to reach in to getit but I couldn't get my arm in far enough. So I downclimb a bit and some dude handed me a long stick, which I put in the crack. I'm feeling totally comfortable on 2 little foot holds and a solid? jam and in the midst of complete concentration in accomplishing my special mission, I GREASED OFF!!! It was all like in slow motion and I tried to grab stuff on the way down. I landed on my feet less than a foot from a stump and in front of two climbers taking a break. I ripped the tip of my left thumb off and had bad abrasions on one side of my body, plus I was shakin' pretty bad. One of the guys at the bottom just sat there grinning while he continued to eat his lunch. He was an RMI guide and smuggly commented: "If you were workin' for Lou, he'd fire you!". Great advice, pal! (I think Lou would have asked me if I was O.K. and then rigged a top-rope, or maybe just reached up their with his mighty long arm.) Anyway, I went to the Leavenworthless hospital where they taped my thumb back on. The next day was a bit painful because I had to finish teaching my seminar (which included taking four people up Midway on Castle Rock). I could have justified taking the day off but I NEEDED THE MONEY TO PAY THE HOSPITAL BILL!!!! The lesson here? Just because you feel competent and comfortable, doesn't mean you're necessarily safe! And then there was the time....... P.S. the hex was rescued so don't go lookin' for it. - (burb!!!...'scuse me) Dwayner

Man! All that Big Lou talk caused me to have some wwwwwweeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiirrrrrdddddd dreams last night. Needless to say, Lou himself appeared. He came out of a giant UFO shaped like Mt. Rainier and he was extra-big, like twice normal Big Lou size, and he had a Lou-size old Chouinard laminated bamboo North Wall Hammer in one hand and a Number 11 hex in the other. He nodded at a huge JanSport pack and when I looked inside, it was full of sandwiches. good sandwiches, too, the kind I like. I helped myself to a few and Lou just stood there, towering above, glowing in the light of the hovering mothership. "Say, something, Lou!" I pleaded over and over again. After what seemed likes hours (and a dozen sandwiches later), he finally began to utter in a booming voice: "Mark your 'biners!" "What does that mean?" I implored. "Mark your 'biners with colored tape so you can tell which ones are yours." "I don't get it, Lou, what are you trying to tell me?" "And don't use black or red like everyone else." "Lou! What's up?" I yelled. Before I got my answer, Lou raised the North Wall hammer and was beamed up into the UFO which quickly vanished. I woke up all sweaty and wild-eyed. Needless to say, I ran to the car and drove to the all-night hardware store and bought ten rolls of tape. Gonna make my own special pattern, now. And today has been almost a waste. I can't help to think that maybe Lou was throwing some sort of metaphor our way. Twice I almost reached for the phone to call Big Lou himself, but I figured he might not know what I was talking about, or would think I wasn't a good climber and besides, he's probably all worn out from that rescue. 'been markin' 'biners all mornin'! Just thought I'd share that with you. [This message has been edited by Dwayner (edited 05-31-2001).]

Iambone....you're really starting to wear on me. This started out as fun, animated banter but now I see some genuine hostility emerging which you seem to thrive on. Either you don't get the point, or you get it and want to perpetuate the debate. You make some awfully strong assumptions about who we really are. First, you drop the word "hate" quite a bit. Speaking for myself (and I'm sure it's likewise the case for many others), I "hate" few people in this world and the category of "sport-climber" just doesn't rate that kind of attention. And being nice to people? If you met me, and probably many of the yucksters on this board, you would probably find us to be some of the most fun and generous people you have EVER met. Old? At 23, 29 is probably old to you. Guess what! Some of us are in our late 30's, mid-40's, have climbed our butts off most of our lives, and we were even stupider than you at your age. And we're youngsters in comparison to those who came before, whom we often admire, and from whom we sometimes seek advice. If you think we're old, than you are truly a moron and there is little anyone can teach you. (Go to your pal Hornbein and tell him he's old. Same to Fred Beckey, Big Lou and numerous others. Add Dee Molenaar and some of the 80 year olds to your list. And some of them probably share our opinion too, but fortunately don't waste their time on this list like some of us do, or are too polite to be vocal about it.) Bouldering? I don't have a right to think that's lame? As I've said before, I'm not preventing anyone from doing it. My reasons for thinking that bouldering is lame has nothing to do with environmental concerns. In fact, it is relatively gear free which I admire although those crash pads (quite useful no doubt) look stinkin' ridiculous. I get a chuckle out of bouldering because to me it seems to be one of the ultimate worthless pursuits within one of the ultimate worthless pursuits (mountaineering in general). I love mountaineering but I also realize that it's kind of lame though it's a kind of lameness I really enjoy! Given that, it's all a matter of personal scale. I think climbing Everest is a stupid waste of time too, and on the other size of the scale, spending days working out a handful of boulder sequences doesn't appeal to me either. I've done a bit and find it boring. Hey, Iambone, this is more or less a free society and people can boulder if they want and I can decide for myself whether I think it's lame or not. But I can see a whole industry emerging: lycra bouldering tights, designer crash pads, Pebble and Boulder magazine, etc. I also used to climb frozen waterfalls...don't care for that but I have more respect for it because it takes some personal fortitude. Basically, Mr. Iambone, you were once amusing, but now you have become a ranting, unclever bore. Thank you for your opinions. No one here hates you and no one is going to prevent you from bouldering, sport climbing or most of whatever. You'll just have to learn to live in a world where some people are going to think that some of things you do are lame. Some of these people will be older than you and you can choose to imagine them as "hateful" or "not nice" as you wish. Bye, bye, Iambone. Perhaps we'll converse sometime on another topic. Shalom, Dwayner P.S. Don't forget to reply by calling us a bunch of wankers, oldsters, etc. You wouldn't want to break your pattern. Don't count on me replying, though. If having the final word means you won, you won buddy, if that's what it takes to build your miserable self-esteem. Also, Pope, and you other guys....let's not waste our time responding to this fellow, he's getting rather unruly.

Iambone: Come step outside for a second, and here, down a couple of these sedatives. O.K., ready to talk? Good. Guess what, junior, there are a few things you need to understand. Those of us who are big-time trad advocates don't like what we see. Your comment that we "should accept the reality of this day and age" makes no sense to us. (Apply that logic to 1939 Germany...it's a ridiculous statement.) We care for the rock and the environment. Many of us look at the routine practices of the sport-climbing crowd (rampant bolting and overcrowding, for example) as the callous disregard for G-d's natural gift in order to satisfy the ego's of the practionioners of an arguably dubious pursuit. Even leaving G-d and nature out of it, some of us see sport-climbing as the pathetic bastard offspring of a noble tradition. We see no reason to endorse this and "open ourselves up to" something we consider weak and bogus. It's a difference of opinion, pal, and guess what...it's not a knee-jerk opinion arrived at yesterday!!! The fact is, I've been climbing longer than you've been alive, and was fortunate enough to have begun during the wonderful transition between the age of pitons and birth of clean-climbing. The clean-climbing ethic was one of personal integrity, and every bolt, (as has been said by others on this list before) was an ethical decision. Climbs could be accomplished if one was up to the challenge, rather than bringing the climb down to one's level by bolting, allowing unlimited rehersals, etc. You are welcome to climb as your please, and we are welcome to think it's admirable or lame or more likely, not give a rat's rear what you, yourself, do. You are 23 years old. You have a lot to learn. Yes, some of us trad-dudes believe we have a superior environmental and sporting ethic, and we will continue to try to pass our traditional viewpoints on to the younger generations, and you can accept it or reject it as you please. We aren't keeping you from doing anything although excessive bolting will cause "The Man" to step-in. If you think we're arrogant, fine, but in the meantime, I hope you realize that many of us care enough about the environment, our beloved pastime, and even YOU to want to share our ways. Call us missionaries; perhaps you'll convert. Sincerely, Dwayner P.S. You're obviously youthful retorts to the likes of Mr. Pope were a bit much. I hope you are mature enough to understand the passion I read in his serious response to you.

Peter Puget! You have totally inspired me (along with the rest of your fellow poets"! "I am cleansed by Lou"....I can't get those words outta m'mind. That's exactly how I feel! Excuse me, but I've got some feelings to express. Lou... Half man/half sasquatch denizen of Tacoma's great white monster. Human burro of the overloaded Jan-Sport. Sir Lou....half glacier/half moraine, master of Rainier's glassy tormented slopes, yet awed, nay, humbled by its grandeur... pressure-breathing giant of the Ingraham, you had me at "rest-step". A thousand blonde monotone guides fail in imitation. Lou.....you complete me. - Dwayner P.S. guys....let me have a moment to myself, O.K.? this has all been a bit emotional for me....Alright, I'm better now. thanks! P.P.S.S. Uh, Donna, I don't know what to say unless you're really named Kathleen, Pope's old girlfriend whom we called "K-1"? Is that you? If so, you're right, Pope is a jerk, but I'm not. Hotcha!!!!

All you Hai-Ku-Dudes! YOU ROCK!!!! Excellent contributions to the new wave of mountaineering expressionistic literature. Totally beats that Mark Twight self-loathing, Angst und Schmerz, agony and insecurity crap! You all have inspired me to be more like Big Lou. And who knows, maybe after a few pitchers tonight, I'll be spewing out a few haikus myself. And after a few more, I'll be thinkin' I'm Big Lou. Yodelayeeooo! - Dwayner

Brother Special-ED: Trust me. Mighty Paul Boving died on THIN FINGERS at INDEX. I was around and climbing at that time and everybody was bummed. He was a good guy, a funny guy, and he didn't have his head lodged up his bum (not until he hit the ledge, at least). Anybody over 30 knows the Paul Boving story. It must have been around 1978 or so. Raise a pint to Mighty Paul Zipped his pro and took a fall. Few like him since, sorry to say. -Dwayner

Iambone: So you want to join the ranks of the Trad Kings do you? There's two ways to go: You can either forget everything you know (all the back-steppin', rap-bolting, Gaston's, hold-doctoring, etc.) and start over; or, we can try to find a professional deprogrammer or some aversion therapy. Something that will make you puke everytime you think of the words "Little Si" or "Exit 38". Unfortunately it will take you a few years to be a Trad Master, unlike the half-hour it takes to master all the skills needed to sport climb. Yes, there are some rules and here are a few: No indiscriminate bolting. No rap bolting. Place your own gear from the bottom up; no pre-placed gear unless it is fixed. No repetitive rehersals which is an indication the route is way too hard for you. Aid is OK as long as you're careful and, you acknowledge that it is not free-climbing. (Hanging on a rope, shaking out arms in between bolts might be considered aid.) We don't have any secret handshakes or signals (you seem disturbingly familiar with gang terminology) but if we do, we couldn't tell you anyway. And there are no "tags", although sport climbers have plenty: THEY'RE CALLED BOLTS!!!! RE: Thin Fingers: an admirable goal, young man, and do wear a helmet. Perhaps you heard the story of the late great Paul Boving. He was one of the BEST rock climbers in the country in the late 1970's and certainly the best in the Pacific Northwest. Boving died on the route. I think he zipped his pro and hit the ledge below the crack, smacking his noggin hard! True! (Index be a good place to wear a helmet; from rock fall to tumbling gumby-gear). Iambone. Come here. I've got a hanky in my pocket....Don't worry, it's clean. Now listen to me. Yes, we all love you here in the Cascades, even if you're from Montana (where in my opinion, at least, the sheep are cuter than even in Wyoming!). You can climb here, and no one is gonna stop you unless you do something really bad or endanger us. We do, apparently come from oppossing and often competing philosophies, and in this big brutal diverse democratic world, that's something you're just going to have to deal with. (By the way, living with diversity doesn't mean ACCEPTING as legitimate or ENDORSING any old crap that comes your way (e.g. sport climbing), but it usually means tolerating it until it steps on our toes (which the bolts are starting to), or the laws are changed (restricting bolting, perhaps? Ahhhhhh!!!! I can see the future!!!!). In the meantime, me and some of the other "Trad Kings" will do our best to reform your miserable draw-clippin' soul until you're ready to become one of us. Until that happens, we'll just have to bitch back and forth, preferably over some ice-cold beers. What? It's almost 11:30? Damn! I didn't even finish my breakfast sixer of Mickey's! See what you sport climbers made me do! (By the way, not all trad climbers are pot-heads. I prefer allllllllllllllccccccccccccooooooooo-hol myself. "Hugs!" - Dwayner P.S. Brother Cave-Dude! Don't call me a bozo! What's with that? Jus trying to help you and your pals have a good time! Peace, m'friend! [This message has been edited by Dwayner (edited 05-30-2001).]

Shucks! Some of us, well, how should I say this....we've been a little harsh on you gri-gri squeezin' gym rats and your related brethren, the "draw"-clipping sport-climbers and sketch-pad tumblin' boulder aficionados. And you know...(this is kind of hard...humbling myself and all)...uh...I'm really quite envious of all the fun yer havin' and so forth and although I'm not very good at apologies, I'd rather let actions demonstrate my feelings rather than mere words. (No, it ain't a scholarship to send kids to bouldering camp). As such, I have created something in your honor: the new sit-start to the Town Crier route at the Index Upper Town Wall. It's way sketchy (did I say committing?) and involves a finger-lock to a crimpy dime-edge followed by an explosive dyno to a standing position at which point the route is continued as normal. The rating is now 5.8+, C2, B2. I considered adding a bolt to protect this bold move, but I'll wait to see what the concensus dictates. So here's a toast to you, my sequence-miming boulder-soldiers! And another hearty sip to you "clip, dangle and rehearse masters of the 5.14"! Some of you may venture to the Upper Wall just to give it a try and who knows? maybe Green Dragon, Golden Arches and the other stale classics will be enriched by similar efforts by those who point the way to an impressive future. Allez!!! Dwayner.....been dddddddddrrrrrinkin' again!!

Anybody got a Big Lou-Haiku in them? Anybody? Go ahead! Give it a try! You can bet when I get one going here soon, I'll post it right here so keep checkin'! In the meantime, anybody got a Big Lou-Haiku in them? Dwayner P.S. Anybody seen my beer-bong?

Pope! Dude! From what I've been reading on this board, you crapped in your own sleeping bag during an expedition, and now you're buying crapped-in used gear. What's up with that? Actually, I'm not sure I wanna know! You want to score some cheap gear (as in free?) Here's a couple of tips from a pro: Go to anyplace where the Mountaineers have had one of their mass outings. Scrutinize the vicinity after they've picked up and left and you'll be amazed. 'biners, stoppers, and I've even scored a couple of cams. (You gotta give them back, though, if they come looking for them but I make them identify their size and any personal markings such as colored tape.) "Mounties Buttress" in Icicle Canyon (especially the lower part) is prime hunting territory.) Also, the South Face of the Tooth, another Mountaineers cluster magnet. Gripped gapers also leave gear while following routes that are way out of their league. The crux traverse pitch on Outer Space is a classic example. Lots of competent dudes leading the pitches but then trying to haul one of their weak-ass buddies up the route. They panic on the traverse and end up unclipping and leaving stuff. Monday morning is a good time to enjoy the route in uncrowded splendor and come back with more gear than you started. (You gotta give it back is someone's leaving notes and such for it.) Last time I climbed O.S., about a month ago, me and m'buddy climbed behind such a party. The belay-gaper left all kinds of stuff which we returned to him after every pitch; so much so that I began to refer to him as "Cam-Boy" by the time we got to the crack pitches. ("Hey Cam-Boy! You forget this one too!") He didn't seem to like that but too bad. He was so slow that we froze our butts off waiting for him at each belay! Mountain-wise: Three cheers to the North Face of Mt. Index, which is often festooned with bogus anchors from people getting lost on the descent. Why can't they just go back down the same circuitous way they came up instead of rigging some rappel that will take them no where other than to the utter pits of fear itself? Gear all over that dang peak! I have the feeling that most people who leave gear on Mt. Index won't want it back. And if you can track them down, maybe they'll sell you the rest of their stuff really cheap! Creepiest thing of this sort I ever saw was a tent melting out of the snow on Success Cleaver, Mt. Rainier. The tent was fully equipped with a stove, pack etc. and a sleeping bag laid out. It had at least spent the winter out or perhaps many years. Some dude must have gotten spooked and bolted! Yowsa! - Dwayner