ivan

hey, at least you didn't mention setting shit on fire in the cave like some other clowns 'roudn here; that woulda earned you an immediate negative 10 stars and ultimate tr-bannination!

you must not be a heavy-drinker if'n you could get all the way out there n' action-suited up for blast-off by 830! seem's like its always crack'a'noon for me nice hat

like watching retards try to hump a doorknob...

how you gonna send, playa, if'n you got no fresh latte flowing through yer system?!?

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down! to summer, may it soon come!

none more so than your's, good sir, for reasons that are invariably obvious Even more so, his avatars... denalidave, master of the obvious!

none more so than your's, good sir, for reasons that are invariably obvious

i AM spartacus!

if'n you got a jet-pack, wtf you climbing for?

sheeeeit, i'd take this as my 40th bday present!

hmmm...pretty certain stifler's ma sucked more (or is it less?)

war is.....something?

a great route to solo, actually, though maybe not if you've never been to that side of the mountain or done something similar - luetholds is a really straightforward and common solo, and lord-know half the folks who've set out to climb it have done the reid accidentally instead

the road to cloud cap is closed from late fall to late june/early july - the hike up the tilly jane trail from down low doesn't take too long in good conditions though (say 3 hours or so) and it's a real nice weekend to hike up to the stone shelter or higher up the cooper spur, camp, then summit n' walk-off the following day

1/26/14 my how old age axes all i dreamt in winter white while youth went astray timberline at dawn quiet soft crunch of crampons a hill without end blood red crescent moon our friends as quick die away life so short like rain summit before noon bad icy beer breakfast there down we rage in glee

possibly the kewlest mountain here in the never(not)-wet

sweeet day - crampons on hardly out of hte parkign lot - first time i climbed der mighty hoodwand in my summer fruit-boots

tilly jane trail on mt hood would be mind-blowing for you i bet, much better than hanging out w/ the hordes on the s side - once above treeline, go where the spirit moves you (as high as you feel comfortable on the cooper spur would be the best bet)

no beacon? index the best if you have yosemite dreams...

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter can this mad season manage to continue?

for falcons to fornicate without fear of molestation i imagine

you might start w/ a winter ascent on a more accessible volcano like hood as it's closure in height to adams. navigation, avy conditions n' winter camping are the primary skills.

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

certainly is what poor ball clubs need to do if they want a pennant