Bug

Check out the ohter Enchanments thread. It even has pictures.

My girls want to do it again soon. They didn't get their fire started and they want another chance. Thanks to all the patient cc.comers who were there.

When he is hanging upside down in his kayak under a shallow drop.

Walnuts are recommended by that Harvard Doc who looks like an Indian Guru. One small handful a day. He looks like he might be eating some chocolate with his.

On the first pitch of a variation to Champagne (straight up the LF corner past the ledge and thru the roof) I noticed about a thousand little orange bugs crawling all over my hand. On closer inspection, they were about half the size of a pin head, I realized they were newly hatched ticks. So I hold the record for most ticks in one day on SCW.

You won't let me smoke you bud anymore.

Day 1, july, 1982. Went up the inlet to lake Inez in the Swan valley to sleep under a spruce tree at the edge of a beaver pond. Rolled out my bag, sucked down a spleef and lay me down to sleep. The breeze was down canyon. After about 15 minutes, I hear a load whistling grunt about 50 yards away. Clearly from a set of very large lungs. A few seconds later, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump and there beside the tree stands a set of eight inch diameter skull crushers. Again, the whistling grunt. Am I his bitch? Do I unzip to be polite? Too dark to descern his disposition. Again the whistling grunt. Blow job? SHIT. Then thumpity, thumpity, thumpity, thumpity, thumpity, thumpity, thumpity, thumpity and there are two more, only smaller. I realize they are up wind. Momma moose and twin calves. They wander out into the pond and graze. It gets too dark to see. I wake up a virgin. Day 2, july 1982. New camera and I are taking pictures about eight miles upstream on Marshall creek. The flowers are out in the meadows and the bees are busy. Good chance to test my macro. Ooooh. good shot. Alright. another...... Then, a similar whistling grunt. Only decidedly deeper. Behind me. I turn slowly to see a young bull moose walking tentatively toward me. He is about thirty yards away. I am near the middle of a large meadow. A lone spruce stands dead in the middle about fifteen yards away. I walk slowly toward it keeping one eye on the friendly moose. Mental note; Must change aftershave. Something more masculine. Moose picks up speed. I pick up speed. Moose lunges into allout charge. I lunge into all out retreat to tree and up through dead scratchy, stiff, brutal limbs. No looking back. BAM! The tree shakes. I keep climbing. BAM! THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. Snort. And he trots away. I bleed. Day 3, july, 1982. Drive all day. Must get away from moose. Up the Yak. No humans. West side of Glacier park. Camp on creek. Big ridge to west with old clearcut. Might get a panorama of the western front. Head out fast to catch the sunset. One hour later I am up a thousand feet and three miles away. Totally alone. Walking through a stand of small lodgepole, I hear something behind me. I turn. Stare. Listen. Nothing. Move on to the top. Nothing to write home about. Too many high ridges of lodgepole. Head down the ridge. About fifty yards past where I heard the noise, I hear it again. Stop. Turn. Stare. Listen. Nothing. I must be paranoid. I didn't use aftershave. Move on. Again, the noise. Turn etc.......... Nothing. Again, the noise. Shit. I am being stalked. Cat? Must be. I have a good knife. Cats do not like fights. Move on. Cut down through a clearcut to a road. Up the hill from where I came comes a grunt. Looking up, I see a bear running down hill toward me. Nothing around me. He jumps over a log and comes down on his front paws. Ouch! Over his chin in a very clumsy summersault. "AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" he says. Quickly I translate from bear to human and realize he has just cursed me and promised to kick ass and bite me repeatedly. He is about thirty yards away. Lay down and play dead? I will definately get bit. He isn't very big. Has he ever seen a human before? Probably not. He's young. Probably just turned away from momma. Shit. He's gotta be hungry. I can't lie down. I'll be an unsavory meal. Bad taste but norishing. I pull my knife, yell as loudly and as deeply as I can and lunge toward the bear. He stops about ten feet from me. He sits. My mind is racing wildly. I think, what am I to him? A mystery. An unknown animal of unknown strength and ferocity. I cannot give him time to gather his courage. I roar as mean as I can and lunge at him flailing my arms wildly. He turns and runs. I cut off my shorts and hang them in a young tree.

I ve known three people who had that surgery. Two resumed climbing 6 months later. One resumed climbing in about a month. I had the distinct pleasure of seeing his wound gaping open about 400' off the ground. If I have any good advice, it is to say, imobilize thyself.

I am starting to worry a bout you brutha, I think you need a little chill time, some TLC, maybe a vacation or something. You need to get all your pieces back in your pie before something realy yucky goes down. The Cali Life Style is messin' with youy PNW vibe.... SLOW DOWN... CHILL OUT...FIND SOME FRESH AIR, and then DON"T RUN IN IT TAKE CARE OF YOUR SELF Maybe he just needs to get laid. don't laugh, getting laid fixes a lot of things Getting laid fixes everything.

Soloing is a different sport. Climbing with a partner and a rope is confining and slow but is made up for by being safer and sharing the experience. Either way, what I remember best about specific climbs are those moments when I was alone at the crux. Soloing is a steady stream of being "alone at the crux". It cannot be taken lightly. My soloing urge was severly crimped when I had kids. It was only then that I realized how far I had been willing to push my own mortality. Still, it is a freedom unmatched on a rope. It is as close as I can get to flying. When my children are older I will resume. Until then, I will solo the R&D route and remember.............

After my wife had our little lovely ones she refused to take her vicadin. Tsk tsk. I take some every time I think I might break something. "How about a three egg omlet honey"? As for Tylenol over Ibuprofin, I thought that Tylenol killed pain but did not do anything for inflamation, whereas Ibuprofin does both. Is this true Doc? Does drinking lots of water lessen the impact of Ibuprofin on the kidneys? How does that compare to Naproxin (alleve)?

Damn fine!

Rot? Sniff sniff. BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

I'll buzz in about 6 with larvae and a heap of dung.

There was a Korean climber who threw himself at the Cassin two years in a row and got helicoptered off from the same exact spot (17K) two years in a row. There was a Japanese climber with no fingers on his right hand and two on his left due to a little frostbite on a K2 speed ascent. Is it good style to climb after that in any way but solo? Who would tie your boots? If you don't thank the rescue crew the first year they save yur ass, is it a sign of weakness to thank them the next time they save yur ass?

Call me a pussy, pussy. I live to climb another day. Several freinds are not so lucky and their style was impeccable. Alex Marvin Peter

Went up there old and hung over last Saturday. The white book doesn't give you much info on the start. The old Becky book is right on. Go up the lf flaky corner by the tree at the notch. Traverse left and then up the curving crack to the bolt with a sling on it. The standard route is wet and mossy (maybe it would be three stars without the moss) below the bolt. The variation left is pretty nice and there is a crack just around the corner that protects well. Watch out for the small hollow rope eating flake halfway out the traverse. It caught my rope when I was up 60 ft.

Whew. For a second there I thought I was an outcast. And everyone knows there's no place to go after this.

That barmaid at Gustav's was looking at me dude. actually if see knew you were a guide, she was wondering if you spoke hungarian, based or if mommy was going to pay your bill!!! Or she was wondering what the fuck you were doing with a popsicle up your piehole at a bar. Hmmm. Not sure what all the hostility is about. I'm not a guide. I'm just a climber willing to climb with other climbers. I was taught the basics by a friend who was taught the basics by a friend etc.......

That barmaid at Gustav's was looking at me dude.

I did that route ten years ago. Is that hollow flake still at the bulge below the traverse?

I am going up with another inexperienced climber (he took a class on crevass rescue) May 30 -June 1. Muir, Disappointment cleaver. Tag along if you can. Check your PM's.

Get a room.

Ehmmic posted her story and admitted guilt. I am glad she is safe. I am also glad she posted and started this debate. I don't know if she knew what she was getting into but she triggered a good discussion on ethics and rock degradation. She will not forget it. Same for others. That is a good thing. A few learn and the rock stays in good shape a little longer. Climb on Ehmmic.

Self delusion is my specialty. 18900 was what another guy told me. Maybe I was talking to myself but it was on the internet so it must be true. Anyway, it's out due to it's small summit. I will be back on Denali within the next two years. Hopefully, I will be able to get above 19000 a couple times. I'll do the WR with friends then, conditions permitting, I will do the upper W Rib. Thanks for the info.