Bug

I forgot my sleeping bag on one trip with my father. I think that's when he figured out I was "experimenting with marijauana". Neither one of us brought up the concept of spooning. I just built two fires on either side of me and slept fine. We summited Main Trappuer the next day. On a boyscout trip in the Mission mnts, we got drenched by a major storm. It rained for three days hard. Some of us younger kids were starting to get really cold and then it got really cold that night. The next morning, Ed Smith chopped up a big dead stump into four huge pieces and got them burning. The flames were leaping fifteen feet in the air.Probably saved a few lives. Fire is my friend. I always carry a lighter and matches. Even if I don't have anything to smoke. Which is most of the time because nobody trusts me now that I'm over forty.

I have the group site at Chatter Creek for $150 wether I show up or not. That's where I'll be. If you want to suck some people over to Vantage,you have the right. Have a good time. Leavenworth could suck but most likely it will be fine with scattered sowers. There are a million things to do with kids in the woods.

There was a 2bdrm apartment on lk Samamish for about $850 awhile ago. Check rent.com

One year long ago, when I was in 7th grade, two friends and I went snowshoeing in the Rattlesnake wilderness in May. The snow pack was hard and deep all the way up to the summit of Stewart Peak (8900). The other two guys had never been backpacking before. Eric had a jar of peanut butter and a jar of jelly. He wore levis and had cotton thermal long underwear. Kevin was better off with his wool pants but still had cotton thermals. I wore army surplus fatigues but had on a thick wool union suit. Our boots were OK and we had wool socks and bread bags tho I was the only one who used them the first day. None of us had gators or gloves. Our raincoats were rubberized canvas. We all had a flannel shirt, an oversized knife, and a tin of Copenhagen. Our first day was beautiful weather and we made it to the summit by 1 or 2. On the way down, we stopped and built a fire to cook lunch (a large can of beef stew). Eric ate two peanut butter sandwiches. By the time we were heading out again, it was about 5PM. We could see the frozen lake below and wanted to get to the “snowshoe inn”, a log cabin built a few decades earlier. The first drop was steep but not that steep. The second one was really steep and we laughed as Eric tumbled down it spilling jars and loaves everywhere. We continued down this way until we got to a large drop. We couldn’t tell exactly how large because the snow overhung the edge and we didn’t want to get too close. We wandered back and forth looking for a way down until dark. So we collected firewood and set up the el cheepo tent and built a fire. Eric was shivering uncontrollably and ate another peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Kevin and I were OK and had hot dogs and fire baked potatoes with salt. After awhile, Eric crawled in. Kevin and I went in after a couple hours of spitting into the fire to find Eric totally incoherent but seemingly not asleep. We really didn’t know what was going on and crawled in on either side of him and went to sleep. The wind blew fairly hard but we slept well. Everyone woke up refreshed and ready to eat. Even Eric was normal and happy, and remembered nothing of the night before. We had bacon and eggs for breakfast. Eric had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. We finally jumped off the cliff at a spot that seemed OK. It was. After picking up Eric’s stuff, we made our way to the cabin. It was bare and empty. The trees for a quarter mile radius had been stripped bare of branches up to about fifteen feet. We kept moving. At this point, we had about 22 miles to hike out. Eric had another peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When we got to the gorge about twelve miles down, we stopped for lunch. Eric had a peanut butter sandwich, which of course was the last one. That was supposed to be our lunch. Eric figured that since he carried it, he could eat it any time he wanted. Kevin and I shared a packet of soup and threw rocks at a squirrel but he escaped. The ten mile walk out was long and we were hungry. I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich eating frenzy when I got home.

Alpine IS my favorite style. It often is not pain-causing or brutal. But I am always ready for things to get brutal should the weather change, or I get off route, or lost in a dense forest. If it weren't fun most of the time, I might not do it. But if it was not possible that conditions or situations could deteriorate, it wouldn't be as much fun. I think a lot of what comes across as chest-beating is just friendly banter amoungst people who have a good idea of who the other people are. For the record, no one should be impressed with my climbing abilities. I am an average guy with enough money to buy high tech gear. Without it, my fat old body wouldn't be going half of where it goes now.

Are you sure that isn't an alien next to you? It looks like there is another one inspecting your crotch. My first bivy wasn't like that.

Don't bail now. The kids will still have a blast. Just bring a couple extra pairs of clothes.

I'm not a geologist but I have gone up there and rappeled off the arch. The inner rock is crumbly and loose. Just a bad pocket of poorly crystalyzed gniess.

How about just get him stoned. The internet does strange things to people but in this case it's just the way he is. No excuses. You'll know where you stand.

I started this thread to try to get a "amping skills" or survival in the mountains" thread. It might help people to hear what others have learned the hard way.

This is a supplement to the "Alpine ABC's" thread in the Newbies section. "My First Bivy" was when I was 6. We hiked about 3 miles and gained about a thousand feet. That put us on top of Boulder Point in what is now the Rattlesnake wilderness. It is about 8500 ft with a few 9000 ft peaks around it. It was mid June so there was still four feet of snow pack in the basins and a big cornice on the ridge we camped on. My three older brothers, Dad, and I got there about 3 in the afternoon. We were all putting our packs down on the wind blown dry patch on the top of the ridge. It was a pleasant afternoon. I asked my dad, "Where are we going to sleep?" to which he replied, "Anywhere you want." I chose a bush hoping it would be softer than frozen ground. Insulite was not invented yet. Everyone found a spot much like a pack of wolves. We melted water in a 2 lb coffee can and chugged it down, charcoal and all. We melted more and had hot Ovaltine. The acrid smoke from sub-alpine fur burned our eyes and permeated everything with a wet dog smell. Or maybe it was the dog, Albert, I was smelling. There was a can of Campbell's Pork and Beans for dinner. We didn't stay up late because the fire sucked and the wind was coming up. I curled up in my $7 sleeping bag and the wool blanket my grandmother knitted, and wiggled into a semi-comfortable position in my bush. When I woke, it was stone dark. The wind was howling like a banshee. My back was to the wind and was cold. The wind was whipping right through the cotton shell and wool blanket like they weren't there. My teeth chattered and my knees knocked. I wiggled around to the leeward side of the bush but found no respite from the wind. I sat up and looked around for my loyal relatives but saw none. I realised at that moment what it meant to be under-prepared. It scared me at first but I was too miserable too lament for long. I knew I had to find some way to get out of the cold. I picked up my bag and stuffed the blanket into it. They were both being whipped around by the wind. I slipped into my tennis shoes and walked downhill through the snow the way we had come up. In about fifty yards, I came to a mass of bodies on a bare patch of ground and took up the leeward position. It was still damn cold but I got some sleep. When we woke in the morning, I asked dad why he didn't come and get me when they moved. He said he did but I was sound asleep so he left me alone. We each had an egg sandwich for breakfast and laughed about how cold we were the night before. One brother and Dad, waded down through the snow to Boulder lake and caught some fish. While they were fishing we ammused ourselves by jumping up and down on the cornice trying to get it to fall. It didn't. We hiked out the 3 miles to the road and then had twelve miles to hike out to where we could call for a ride. For lunch we shared one can of vienna sausages. My feet were blistered and I was totally fatigued when I got home. Somehow, I remember it as fun. I learned a lot. Always carry a square of canvas and later a square of plastic to cut the wind. Bring bread bags to keep my feet dry. Carry my own matches in case I end up alone. And never count on anyone to take care of me. Are there any other first bivy stories out there?

Wood is plentiful up the bridge creek road. I'll bring a saw.

This board's tone has changed significantly from harsh to less harsh. This is due to a stated effort by the moderators. It is my opinion that critiques with harsh words are colorful and realistic. Flame me whenever you think there is something I could learn from it. I may flame you back but at least you will know that you made me think about it. Those guys were lucky. I've been there too. But I was stoned.

The major difference between succesful alpine climbers and unsuccessful, (I'll define alpine as hike long, bushwhack to the base of the most promising line, climb it, bivy maybe, get down.)is that they are able to endure a whack of cold, wet, devils club and still at least pretend they are having a good time.

Why weren'tyou wearing it last night? Walking 1st ave in the dark without a helmet? That's dangerous. Nice job you guys!!!!

It looks questionable but the east side is not as drizzly as the west side. Cances are we will have a big fire and hang out. Maybe take a trip to Peshastin where it rains considerably less than Icicle. At any rate, I am going with full rain gear and tarps and tents and hot chocolate. Or there is always Walmart.... FRIDAY A 70 PERCENT CHANCE OF RAIN AND SNOW. HIGHS IN THE MID 60S TO LOWER 70S. WIND SOUTHWEST 15 TO 25 MPH ON THE RIDGE TOPS. FRIDAY NIGHT A 60 PERCENT CHANCE OF RAIN AND MOUNTAIN SNOW. LOWS IN THE MID 30S TO LOWER 40S. SATURDAY RAIN AND MOUNTAIN SNOW SHOWERS LIKELY AND A SLIGHT CHANCE OF THUNDERSTORMS. HIGHS IN THE UPPER 50S TO MID 60S. CHANCE OF PRECIPITATION 60 PERCENT. SATURDAY NIGHT A 60 PERCENT CHANCE OF RAIN AND MOUNTAIN SNOW SHOWERS. LOWS IN THE MID 30S TO LOWER 40S. SUNDAY MOSTLY CLOUDY WITH CHANCE OF RAIN AND MOUNTAIN SNOW SHOWERS AND A SLIGHT CHANCE OF THUNDERSTORMS. HIGHS IN THE MID 50S TO LOWER 60S. CHANCE OF PRECIPITATION 50 PERCENT.

No wonder you got nowhere. I give beta in a PM to anyone who doesn't flame me. I said I could list the drainages where there was good climbing. That's called beta asshole. Find the rest yourself. Ask yo momma to teach you some manners boy. Just stay the fuck away from the Bitterroots and quite whining. You probably can't walk far enough to reach the really good climbing anyway. Hey now! I wasn't flaming you-i was chiding... Lighten up, yo. This is Jordans tantrum, not mine. He's the A-hole. Goddamn canadians aren't as polite as they first appear. Sorry if my openness offended you. My macho upbringing is sensitive to acusations of "weeping to my mommy." OK the truth hurts. I'm getting old. But in my day.... Have fun in CA.

Cool fun. Nice story. Glad it was you. Next time, for variety, you could do the route that goes right up the middle of the face then link it with the route that crosses the face of teh fin on a great ledge system. This is a combo of two routes that you can see in the Becky guide. It goes at 5.7 (just a couple moves in two places) with nice cruisin granite all the way. More solid and more interesting than doing the Serp again. At least I think so. Then you can take the obvious gulley down the other way.

I recommend not bringing more than one rope apiece. Leave the best one at home since we will be top-roping everything. I'd hate to see someone get ripped off at the road. I will have one rope, rack, slingage, a couple L harnesses, one XS harness, A couple pairs of smaller shoes.

Mikey and I did some towers in that area. I'll have to look at the AAJ. We were young. We were stoned. We carried heavy loads long distances. Climbed many untouched rocks. Many I have not seen twice had multiple potential routes.

Blodgett beats any canyon I've seen in the Cascades. It is the most accessible and has the highest concentration, and has a pretty good guide book. There are other canyons with minimal approaches, say 3 or 4 miles plus a couple hundred feet of talus, that have lot's of smaller buttresses (only 3-5 pitches), better rock, and nobody goes there because Montanans are assholes. Roaring Lion is only a taste of what else is out there. If you are willing to hump up to the divide country, you get past the gneiss and into true granite. Different stuff. The gneiss tends to be sloping and inconsistent features with some unpredictable bands in places. The divide peaks have consistent cracks and features. Excellent granite for clean alpine trad. The top of Sweathouse has only one ascent that I know of. Slot Tower 10A, 6 pitches to a great summit. It is just one of about a dozen teeth on a sawtoothed ridge. The Finger lies in waiting untouched. TinCup Creek has some 10 pitch walls that I have done one ascent on. There are at least fifty other good lines up there. No one else has touched it as far as I know. I could go on. But the Cascades are great. I like the guide books now that I am old and feeble.

"Finally, screw you clownpuchers, I'm off to the sunny Sierras then back to school." You'll like California. Lot's of guide books. Cheers dude.

I could show you some cracks..... But to each his own. The long "approaches" tend to twart the rif-raf as has been demonstrated above.

No wonder you got nowhere. I give beta in a PM to anyone who doesn't flame me. I said I could list the drainages where there was good climbing. That's called beta asshole. Find the rest yourself. Ask yo momma to teach you some manners boy. Just stay the fuck away from the Bitterroots and quite whining. You probably can't walk far enough to reach the really good climbing anyway.

Thank you. I climb with the people I do to make myself look normal. You goina have a communication problm in th root boy. Norml folk stand out like a lawer in new suit.