ivan

every story has a silver lining - in this one it appears to be the good news that THE PRETZEL BUN IS BACK! jesus, who wouldn't want their dying vision to be of that sacred pronoucement?

i don't know, was he related to richard nixon?

is "journalist" really the best sobriquet for them that profit by putting the contents of a million trailer-parks up for public ridicule?

sometimes i get a little bit too excited too

"of all the books i've read, THIS is one of them!"

8/27 - day 36 - 18 n 19th laps of the year - scorching sun - busted block on the snag ledge traverse - both jugs past the overhang on p2 marked w/ pink-X's and deserving of it - the world winds over on itself and is the worse for it - the moon is broken and the sky is cracked

8/23-4 - days 34-35 - the ass-hit of summer - a good long time since i'd had a taste of bacon - a week at the beach w/ the famibily chilling in the cool, cool sands - a good bit of a week clambering at wolf rcoks, then some random work and then shit, here it all is - good times w/ the powderhund n' squire geoff swam the river from the boat launch out to the bird island - always wanted to see the wall from there and the water was crazy warm - turns out you only have to swim half the distance and can wade the rest we a 3-some on warriors - kenny n' company along the way - the russkis above - crackers crawling all over this scaly lizard-prick - dusk approaches - left the lawyer n' the shit at the top of the raps n' romped back down to pick up the party supplies - a crowd in the lot, good times ensued - stumble-fucked up the trail sans headlamp in the dark purple of the sunless night - munched on sandwiches n' pringles n' howled at the moon - perfect temps, not a breathe of wind - bats n' shooting stars - fine music until that bastard decided it was time to rap back to portland sunday dawned bright n' early - scampered up to the trail n' down the bathroom for a christian crap - bryan didn't quite see the need - fumbled around on riverside but we were probably both too hungover for having it - back at the base for right gull - nearly killed folks when i kicked off a block on pitch 2 - tasty fish n' bagel sammies - back home soon enough for pizza w/ the little people and the dread reality of Work Tomorrow highlights: great swim, balmly night, evidence of some sad soul making the Big Spit all over the anchor on snag ledge

shiiiit, far easier to put yer partners nasty climbing shoes in w/ the food n' leave the can at home - ain't no animal alive nasty enough to want to get a piece of mine or most of my people's feet

or an underexposed chick, that you might be photographing they're all just asking for it

first the grizzlies, then the fucking t-rexes - i say we take a stand here

probably shouldn't fuck w/ this guy either

there's always room for jello

another stuart route to do then

gnar-gnar

naw, my shit's all out in the garage.

if you want to learn glacier travel in the lower 48, washington state's pretty much the only good place - mt rainier's pretty much the best joint in the state then, so base yourself somewhere close like seattle - you can join a group like the mounties to take some of their avy classes or find partners on site's like this - it's not that hard to teach yourself if you're using a good reference book like "freedom of the hills"

did you pick it up or leave it be? i'm sure whoever put it there will be back.

8/9 - 69 years after nagasaki got kicked square in the nuts - 33rd beacon excursion for the year - a midnight full moonlight ascent w/ ze phuzzy - frogs n' bats n' owls dominate the deadly-still air - heavily laden w/ homebrew and commercial swill we sashayed our way up in the elven-ambiance, bullshitting n' bantering on a billion topics so long the dawn began dragging it's ass into the eastern-wings of the amber sky as we reached the trail - amazing drive home w/ the ocher-orb huge and low in the west, casting conflicting shadows it seemed in its bitter battle w/ big brother

8/8 - #32 - took ole'calen out for his first climb and he did well on rhythm method n' the 1st pitch of the corner - most memorable event of the day, a long train heading east carrying a huge cargo of what smelled like festering fetuses - holy shit, the market in dead hookers must be booming in montana

"does this giant prick make my head look small?"

means yer bitch done been running around on you while you're we're getting played the fool

getting hurt while not climbing seems to be the theme of my summer - nice to see i ain't the only one

them ice screws might work great as rock pro in sandstone

shit, so long as yer showing snuff porn for yer feet in this t.r., might as well throw that one in for the hand as well

devuska, cops pull you over all the time because you have truly criminal feet