klenke

Guiran, I was reading your post on the matter on WTA.org to get my info. You made it sound like you could drive all the way there. And this info seems to say you can get all the way there. Several other TRs on WTA from last summer intimate you could drive all the way there. But I guess you have more recent info. Maybe a new washout since then?

Darin, Can you clear up some uncertainty on my part? I have a question: Is your "Tang Tower" the slabby summit at right-center in this photo or is it some subsidiary point near to that summit: That summit is Pt. 4800+ (see map). Thanks. BTW, your Pk 5144 is known as "Bushwhack Peak."

accessible

A1: yes A2: no Best, quickest route to south side of Glacier Peak is now via North Fork Sauk River Trail to White Pass.

Actually, that was my penis-nula map so I'm honored that I was able to fulfill your comedy requirements for the week.

So the other day I was at home and near to my front door, which was shut. The door across the hall opened and I heard voices. I looked through the peephole in the door and saw two fairly attractive young women (early 20s) standing there talking to the two neighbor dudes that live there. They were on their way out someplace. I could smell the girls' perfumes through the door. At any rate, one of the two girls had a real bitchy attitude. One of the guys said something about needing or wanting to go rock climbing the next day and the bitch girl, in your typical bitchy voice, huffed (probably while doing that roll-eyes thing) "why would anybody want to climb up a rock?" To this the dude responded, "Uh, you're about a 5 out of 10." I chuckled under my breadth behind the door. He had totally given her the smack down. So the dudes stepped away to do something and the two girls talked to each other about how they looked, what they were wearing, etc....totally, like, like totally, you know. And so, I'm like, this is totally, like, funny 'n stuff. By this time I had to step away from the door and go back to watching TV, for I couldn't contain my audible laughter any longer. In hindsight, I should have bust up laughing behind the door, giving 'em my own smack down, as it were. It was quite comical. And I thought those things only happened in teenybopper movies.

Nope. That's the way it is. Of course, mine is the ©2000 printing. It may have been edited by now.

True, but I said Mountie gumby. These gents aren't the gumby sort.

Hint: it's not about the terrain or the place.

Through painstaking research (while eating lunch on my favorite placemat: my Benchmark mapbook) I have finally discovered the location of Dru's secret backwoods retreat. It's on Vancouver Island. Here is the map:

John Roper's excellent TR for this climb can be found here.

"dry-humped." You got that right. All four stations did.

Some views from the day... _Prospect Peak_ Bushwhack Peak Frostbite Peak_ Headwall Peak Gunn & Gunnshy Ragged Ridge__ Three Fingers__ Persindex & Persis Pilchuck & Spada Static Point & Pk The view north I The view north II

No, this isn't a dumpster peak. It's over 5,000 ft and you've got to work to get to it. But I know what dumpster diving is. I've dived myself many times. My definition of a dumpster peak (and this is only my definition) is any peak less than 3,000 ft in elevation. The manner of making the summit is immaterial. You could drive it, bike it, shwhack it, snowmobile it, ski it, ski-lift it, pogo it, balloon it, helicopter it, hang glide it, skydive it, human cannonball it, bungee jump it, even space re-entry it. It's still a dumpster dive. Certain peaks are exempt, though. Such as Beacon Rock if you do it the hard (rock climbing) way.

Torok's a real stand up guy, ha ha. Actually, what he did was quite impressive. It was scarier than it may look. The other side dropped away about 60 feet. No Mountie gumby would dare it.

Climb: "Nine Lives Peak" (Pk 5110)-From Kromona Mine Road Date of Climb: 3/6/2005 Trip Report: (This is not a TR about mixed ice climbing or extremely narrow couloirs. This a TR about an FA of a peak.) Stupid minds stink alike... It was Friday and I sent out an email to John Roper wondering if he was interested in getting a probable FA on Sunday for a peak behind Prospect Peak (Mt. Stickney Quad). After I sent that email I additionally contacted Don Beavon and Mike Collins. Soon Don & Mike were in on the game. The next day John responds saying my plans were prescient, for he and Ian Mackay had been discussing on Thursday a climb of the exact same peak. So here were the two of us separately planning that same peak that no one has ever climbed. Yep, seems this peak in question was hot to trot on the front burner of the peakbagger stove. By the time all the planning was said and done we had ballooned our numbers up to nine. Nine! I was worried the Mountaineers would catch wind of our plan and put the nix on it, saying we exceeded their maximum allowable party limit for the area. I expected Mountie helicopters to hover overhead and chastise us with bullhorns. Nine of us biked the road that goes from Olney Pass to the crossing of the Middle Fork of South Fork Sultan River below the Kromona Mine . The road is about 5 miles long. There is a washout about a mile in that requires one to get off the bike. There are also numerous windfalls hanging over the road that will ensnare poles and iceaxes overhead. Someone said the first one to the top gets to name the peak so a mad race ensued roller derby style. This made those miles of road go quick. Even though I knew the way (had a sound plan, at least) no one wanted to listen to me. Not initially, anyway. Do you have any idea how hard it is to shepherd a herd of peakbeests diagonally up a brush slope? I just didn't have a long enough rope to lasso those recalcitrant beasts that wanted to stray up the easy boulder slope that goes the wrong way. In the middle of the woods on Prospect's SW slopes we stumbled upon a sturdy open-walled shelter someone has built. Probably a hunter's shelter, but we checked under the tarp for dead bodies anyway. Ian broke the little green chair that was there. Someone's going to be pissed. We eventually got to the boulderfield below the Prospect saddle, whereupon the beasts took to grazing their way to the top of it, roiling and rolling boulders as they went. Mt. Stickney looked handsome from this side. Here's Mike on the boulderfield. Mike was my right-hand man on this day. He would scout ahead in the brush while I lassoed the stragglers. The Prospect saddle afforded us our first view of our primary destination--Pk 5110 (430P). It's the left end of the concave crest (left of center): With my zoom lens I could see there was some sort of rock horn at the top. Would it be a problem? We'd have to wait and see. Here is another view of Pk 5110. Finally, on the other (east) side of the saddle we found consistent snow. A 300-vertical-foot drop was necessary to get into the basin on the other side. From there, a straightforward traverse got us to below the northwest side of the summit. Snow conditions were great, but I can't understand why I had to get all the unconsolidated leads. Seems like whenever Don took point he would get the crispy crust and not sink in at all. Not fair. As we neared the summit the skies began to cloud up. Was it going to rain? As it turns out, it didn't, though I did spot virga in the vicinity. Mike, Don, and I got to the summit first well ahead of the others. The slightly leaning summit horn thrust upward before us. Hmmm, looks crazy. Is there a way to scramble up it? Would this climb count if we couldn't? It was only about 20 feet high but fairly featureless on the approach side. On that side I found a vertical dihedral with a pedestal start but it felt like a high-5th layback dyno with awkward launch angle would be required to heave oneself up to a notch. Meanwhile, Don had a look around the corner to the south side. The south slant of the horn had a nice knee-wide crack in a dihedral corner with which to claw one's way up (here is a picture of that side taken later). Soon Don was sitting on the 6" by 6" apex. With my head down I forced my way up the low-5th slot but had to stop when Don repeated "It's a one-person summit. Stop!" And sure enough, it was: Don said he was uncomfortable up there. But he was the man of the moment. Everyone who was still in the basin below wanted him to loiter so they could photograph him. Eventually, everyone got up to the summit and we mixed laughter with namedropping. We each took turns doing the summit horn. And by doing, I mean by whatever means and positions you felt comfortable. A number of us looked like we were having sex with it, humping it with splayed legs. Only Jerry Huddle opted out all together. Mike Collins had brought his helmet like the dutiful husband he is. He was nice enough to lend it to a number of us. It was more a psychological lift than anything. But Mike Torok was the real stud muffin amongst us. He said he'd stand on the top. And that he did. Even if he did not straighten his knees or actually stand on the exact apex it counts. Mike Collins and Paul Klenke touching the top: John Roper and Mike Torok touching the top: It was then time to tackle the most pressing issue before us: the christening of the peak. What should we call it? (There was no evidence of prior visitation--no cairn or register--so we make the strawman comment that ours was the first ascent.) In hindsight, we should have auctioned the naming rights on E-bay like was done for that new species of monkey recently. We had some ideas beforehand: Tyrolean, Clothesline, and Slackline because of its nicely arcing summit crest; Little Four Mountain because of the four bumps on the continuing crest. It was initially agreed that, whatever the name, it should be two syllables to fit well with the other two-syllable peak names in the area (Stickney, Prospect, Bushwhack, Snowslide, Headwall, Frostbite, Static). Names were bandied with abandon but would not stick to our teflon naming board. Somewhere during the proceedings Don said "Nine Lives Peak" in reference to the nine of us who climbed it. This immediately drew unanimous acceptance and the name was forever dropped into the box of Pacific Northwest lore. Or something like that. {Yeah, yeah, I realize it's actually a three-syllable name. } Here are the nine of us at the summit (there's a whole lot of peakbagger history in this photo; probably more than 10,000 different summits gained by the likes of these yahoos): It was eventually time to leave (at around 2:30PM). It had taken 5 hours 30 minutes to make the summit. It would be a shorter return trip but we wished to go over Prospect Peak on the way back, taking its north crest back to the Kromona Mine trail. Meanwhile, Don and I decided to climb the next point (Pt. 5080+) to the west of Pk 5110. Because it was just the two of us, we called it "Two Lives Point." Here is Don at the top and here is Nine Lives from there. Don and I caught up with the rest of the peakbagger gooroos at the Prospect Saddle. From there a short climb got us to the summit of Prospect. The gendarme on the ridge was passed on the west side. It was Mike Collins' and my second trip up Prospect in 35 days (the first trip). Since he and I knew the way back along the north crest, we could take it back to the Kromona Mine thence to the trail back to the road. Here are Mitch, John, Mike T., and Ian at the summit of Prospect Peak (Pt. 5080+ is at upper left and lancegranite's rock wall is behind Mike): We got back to our bikes with about half-an-hour of light left. We cut it pretty close, but I had my bike light just in case. Approximately 10 hours, 13 miles, and 4,000 ft of gain roundtrip. Gear Notes: Not that I expect any of you to do this peak, but don't climb it in summer. Do it in winter or early spring when snow covers brush or the brush doesn't have leaves on it. Other than that, take snow travel implements (snowshoes and/or trekking poles but not skis). An ice axe will probably not be necessary though there is about 40 feet of steep snow at the top. It could probably be avoided if need be. A 40-ft length of rope would be sufficient to belay someone up the summit horn. Harnesses would not be necessary. A bowline around the waist and a counterweighted hip belay through the dihedral notch would be sufficient. Approach Notes: Drive to Olney Pass. Bike gated road to washed out bridge below Kromona Mine. Cross-country from there.

Well, who's calling it? Since neither of the islanders (Dave & Wayne) gave notice of intent to dash us with their repartee, let's forego downtown this week. I guess we either stoop to the Sloop or hail at the Ale.

My apartment has room for only one other person. So maybe if just you show up... Mmmmm, tacos. I still don't care where, mofrair.

I saw this in the paper this morning and I was pretty disgusted. Now I'm not against game hunting but this new thing in Texas is just plain wrong. Discuss... Source "BOERNE, Texas -- Howard Giles was beginning to think he would never get a decent shot at the wild hog. But about an hour into the hunt, the beast finally moved into the rifle's sights and Giles fired. With the click of a mouse. That's right, Giles was in his home office in San Antonio, aiming at the animal from a program on his computer. The hog was eating soured corn in the Texas hill country about 45 miles away, oblivious to the remote-controlled 30.06 rifle pointing at his neck. "There was a lot of anticipation. My heart was pumping," Giles recalled. "I felt like I was there." Welcome to the controversial union of modern technology and game hunting. It's called Live-Shot.com, and it's operated by San Antonio body-shop estimator John Lockwood. The Web site allows anyone with Internet access and a mouse to hunt and target shoot by remote control, all in real time." There is more text in the link above. The thing about handicapped people being able to hunt this way bugged me. I think it is fine to help out handicapped folks. But there are some things they've got to be willing to give up.

If you have a better place, feel free to suggest it, Marie. Dave just throws out Ballard cuz it's close to his home. We go to the Ballard Alehouse often enough. Don't need to always go there. Seems like we haven't been downtown for over a month.

Makes my party's FA (and FWA) this weekend look unworthy of submittal on CC.com. BTW, you forgot one key piece of equipment in your gear list: snowmobile.

Good stuff. And great shot of Lincoln (except for too much sky).

"My somewhat religious brother-in-law..." Let he who is without sin trundle the first stone.

The pic was actually mine. You are absolutely right, timmy. The entrance shot is of Wind Cave. Here is another image of it found on the web: I must have mislabeled the photo after I scanned it, or been confused in some other way. Forgive me. It was 15 years ago I was there.

The spelling is as Dru stated, with an 'e'. I thought I had seen the word before and sure enough I had. The pubic wig was not worn on the head like you might have guessed but over the groin region. From Norman Schur's 2000 Most Challenging Words [copyright 1987]: