ivan

if only i wasn't getting on a plane to colorado... dude, go do something new - have you done bluebird? the upper pitch of flying swallow (you can rap in from grassy ledges)? wrong gull? there'll all as good or better then tropical smiff crap and w/n you're abilities.

what details do you need for flight time? the first pitch is basically a pin-ladder and is easy as an aid climb but crazy lichen-ated currently - the second pitch i haven't done but has a lot of shrubbery and just as much grungy-fungy - that second pitch looks very fun and i plan on going back w/ a pair of etriers sometime soon hopefully w/ ben - we'd probably replace the rusty-ass, american-death triangle laden anchor that currently exists below it's crux roof

wow - very cool looking peak, kinda slesse-ish - how long/hard is the route? and just flipping ya shit at beacon, esse - i was mostly amazed i could verify yer visage at such a distance - you pull so hard these days though i wanna take you w/ me so you can show me how to do these classics proper! go do ground zero dammit!

that's the pitch i do all the time since it has no choss on it and is very low angle - you can skip the kinda thin and steep scary third pithc of yw by taking the ramp pitch of the se corner about 3/4 of the way up, then cut right just before the grassy ledges and traverse over and up to the smoke ledge and no, i don't climb the incredibly contrived 10a move there on the 4th pitch as it's very silly when you can step 4 feet sideways and avoid it - the funnest move is the one above that, above the pin in the slab - the first time i did it this season i found meself momentarily confused, hanging by my hands w/ my feet scrambling in space - meow!

dude, don't fuck w/ me when i'm in the mood to use a word, da'lright?!? well, i'll go to college and i'll learn some big words and i'll talk real loud goddamn right i'll be heard you'll remember all the guys that said all those big words he must've learned in college the only word i can remember learning in college was "ubiqitious," which was only because it was used so goddamn ubiqitiously! feeling irrascible yet, huh, punk?

Are you saying you have free soloed Young Warriors? All of it? not that i'm some badass soloist (your boy jaime is way stronger/bolder than me), but yeah - the top pitches i do all the time, the first one i do occasionally w/ a rope to rap off, and the judge dread pitch only once when i was being a little whiney bitch about how life was working out (no need to talk sense to me, the experience got me good n' grounded and now is somethign to laugh about when armed w/ a rope) i don't understand why everyone isn't soloing the first pitch of dod's jam - wow, what a solid good time that is and totally sane/reasonable.

dude, don't fuck w/ me when i'm in the mood to use a word, da'lright?!?

forgot me favorite line from navigator, the one which somehow made my whole bottle dissappear and the short nap commence "they never drank water, but whiskey by pints and the shanty towns rang w/ their songs and their fights!"

aww bill, i don't spend no time on my writing - i just have some drinks'n'smokes'n start throwing all the adjectives, invectives and insults i can summon from the ether out into teh interwebs my vote for the first 10 tr would be laytons talking turd thang

there's no sense getting bent out of shape over the butts- the trail gets a lot of traffic from rednecks down there to have sex w/ their cousins anyhow - besides, wintering at ozone or godforbid rocky butte develops ones tolerance of trash - the shit that pisses me off (from y-day) are giant attack dogs blockading the trail on the way out while snarling and barking and generally demonstrating the size and attitude required to tear my throat out

did this w/ beaconben and jeff thomas the day after i saw the irrascible john frieh doing it the day before - first time i'd done the route w/ a rope in a long time - somehow found a completely new way to do the move above the traverse on pitch 2 that made the whole thing seem much, much easier - no new bolts required, though moving hte old anchor to the defacto anchor site makes sense

don't blame da butts on me joe, i actually stuff 'em in my pocket so i can smell like a hobo the rest of the day we even managed to find all the beer cans we threw down last night too!

would love to come by friday bill but gotta go to colorado thursday and not climb for a whole week naw, ben didn't tag along 2day, but on sunday we did local access/flighttime/flying swallow and i think he freed most of the latter after i led it, francophillicly saw jim sunday afterwards (we also tr'ed fly'n'swallow direct, which i vote as -2 stars retarded) but as ben and i played tour guide for jeff thomas up jim's young warriors route, we ended up in a big gaggle (ben's bro and pink chalk also accretted in our max danger dalliance atop the rubble-pile) at the top of the se corner all jabbering and gibbering sick-spray at each other and someone managed to miss any tale of saturday and now it's time for a walk w/ the kiddoes

ah yes, and i forgot to pay all proper homage to the big bill coe, who according to legend and myth, was in on the fa w/ jimbo back in 1885 or something like that - you been back on this route since the reagan era, dude?

wish i could be there - will be in colorado w/ the folks instead and NOT climbing

Trip: Beacon Rawk - - Pimpfest onna Portaledge (Getting Ground Zeroed) Date: 7/29/2008 Trip Report: you must forgive the ecstatic jabbering that follows, especially given that we fucked up and failed to bring a proper camera to capture the magic, a fault i shall seek to mitigate w/ the copious use of many fine swearwords - a fine, fine local creep was just completed by your friend and humble narrator - being a creature of the north cascades i've never sampled the great walls of the golden fruity-cali-booy south, but curious i've been to see what that whole scene was like - lately my friend miker had come by a pimped out double portaledge and was looking for someplace to make mischief w/ it - years ago i remember tooling along w/ joeH on his anchor swapping shindig and rapping down through ground zero - he pointed out the sweet setup for practicing the big wall hanging bivy as there is an excellent 4 bolts anchor about 160 feet off the ground so the plan went into action - mike's set to have his second gimp-child born tomorow or soon, soon thereafter, so equipped w/ a new cell phone (see our sordid stuart debacle for the backstory), he and i zoomed outta camas aroudn 4 y-day and were on the scene and ready to roll about 530 - we circumvented the parks newfangled fuckall scheme to charge 10$ for overnighting on the rock by parking 50 yards down the road in the old-school misanthrope p-lot - humped our ledge and a huge party supply down to the south side and set to work the start to ground zero is damned confusing if you're just reading the prg and i dont' know that i can do much to improve on it other than to say that, after commiting a great hate-crime against the myriad of luscious ferns, trees, shrubs and purty, purty flowers that were encamped in the 300 some odd feet of cracks for likely the past 2 years or more, the line is much more obvious now when standing at the base then it was previously- the bluebook line on the route reads .11d, grade III, which i reckon is right on - i regretably am damn far from having that in my free-dar, but armed w/ many small wires and a pair of etriers and a daring do to free what i could and aid-fuck the rest, i managed both pitches in the fine style all who have had the misfortune to meet me have come to expect the first pitch is the blue-collar fright-fest - crazy lichen-ated, thiiiiiiin cracks w/ only a few thousand year pins along the way, unstrait-forward route finding, blah, blah, blah, 2 hours later i was at the sweet hanging belay and attempting to transform the image of the pig-hauling setup so androgously illustrated in FOTH into reality but without the high-speed jumars that the jet-set crowd is all equipped with - using a pulley and 2 prusiks and my etriers i was able to figure out how to hoist the 60 some odd pound pig up to my perch -being a phat-ass phuck has its advantages - i can see how doing a true big wall expedition would be epic to the extreme after mike arrived at our lofty crib, we deployed our wonder of aluminium science and set into the 120 ozs of whiskey and fosters ("it's australian for budweiser!") and other assorted party-favorites we dragged along and quickly became rudely deranged whilst sorting out our strange situation - ropes everywhere - gear everywhere - biner on biner on biner! brought a z-rest for some obscure reason and had zero use for it - the 'ledge was the coziest bivy i've had all summer scenes of the night - shooting stars - satellites - boats on the river - the sperm-spluge of the milky way - a wailing set of mp3 speakers blaring out the tunes that meter my mercurial soul - "navigator, navigator, awake and be strong - the mornign is here and there's work to be done!" - "she's addicted to nicotein patches, she's afraid of a light in the dark" - "by landslide and rockblast they were buried so deep, that in death if not life they'll have peace when they sleep" - arcing lines of piss cascading down the rock - spotlights - like climbing into a sedate aviary - swallows all aroudn swooping and swirling, bug-bound and playful - bats - owls - moths - camel after camel after camel and then the whiskey's gone! light at 430 - the crescent moon glows in the east - mike is forced to rap to the ground and settle a certain gastro-intestinal necessity while i unfuck the ropes and sort gear - i try to hide my glee at getting to lead the money, money pitch - goddam, how did this only get 1 fucking olson star? - in the state it was in, covering in powder-green lichen and completly vegetable infested my puny man-boy free skills kept me from freeing more than maybe 10% of the pitch - steeeeep! i was the proverbial pimp on xmas morning, unwrapping a present every 3 feet, covering my eyes w/ my elbows while tearing out whole ecosystems of ferns and other fragile things - found an acorn lodged in a crack, awaiting the Great Leveling - "thanks santa, just what i wanted, a nut placement!" and then of course the song that just wouldn't go away, the one i belted out endlessly like some loon - starstruck - "i wanna be a rawkstar!" RBH3TFCKVok "'cuz we all just wanna be big rockstars, live in l.a. mansions, driving 15 cars, the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cuz we just won't eat!" mike's wife was all set to get her bun out of the oven by watchign some fancy chic-flic at noon 2day, and so we had to high-tail it outta there w/o climbing riverside like i woulda liked, but no worries as the rain began very shortly after we broke down the ledge and rapped down - a big hearty "fuck you" to the jackasses who brought the meth-addled pitbull to the base of the crag and left him to growl and bark and chase us down the trail - luckily i had a portledge in hand to plunge into his skull had he come 4 feet closer to my happy bubble -totally harshed on my buzz - do you fucknuts who bring your dogs to the crag understand that mean assholes like me will kill them? yeah, so your puppy might be real sweet when you're around, but when you leave them to blockade the sole exit from the crag, freaked out at the rockfall and isolation, you create a situation where something is gonna get hurt, and it sure ain't gonna be me - if i had had a gun, little fido would probably be dead now, and you too if you had pitched a fit over it - anyway, back to the light and frothy tale i'm laying down so subtle hmm, fuck, well, that was that - all you so called portlandia hardmen now have had a neglected classic cleaned for you to go free and chest-beat over and its everybit as damned good as driving 6 hrs to go do CBR - the placements are all clean and the flowers all fucked - i'd be happy to belay you while you freelead it and i'll see what i can do on tr! Gear Notes: a set of tiny nuts 00 metolious cam a must X2 blue, green and yellow aliens X2 sets of small, medium and large nuts X2 .5 to 2 inch cams 1 3 inch cam 16 or so draws and for the pimped out portaledge experience you will need: 1 can of bbq pringles 2 giant subway gut-bomb sammies 1 sack of cheetos X4 fosters oil cans .5 liters of makers mark 1 pack of crumpled camels a whole headful of to make the shooting stars seem more personal Approach Notes: park in the olde spot to escape the warden's ticket

? i suspect you don't understand what i was saying earlier, but it really doesn't matter condolences for certain, not that those empty words mean a goddamn thing when it's your dad/son/brother dead - this is why folks oughta be climbing rock this time of year or alpining further north and not mucking around on the sides of sloughing slag-heaps w/ scads of fools in godforsaken oregon

ever notice how conservatives are such literalists?

cool - well, that said, anyone gonna be out at the big B 'round 10 2morrow and wanting a pardner? and someone tell opdyck his damn phone's been off the hook for 24 hours now!

gonna be out sunday morning and ben's leaving around 10 a.m. - could use a partner after that or its the usual...

what happened to mike? holy fuck i'd be there if i could escape the cycle of family vacations i've wired meself into...

woooooord! and i only have another week and a half of family vacations left to endure!

meow!

i forgot to add the color element of the day - a whole army of boy scouts marching to the summit on the trail in harnesses and helmets looking for something to climb - the adults seemed more clueless then the kids - i don't see meself ever soloing all of dod's there kev as i've yet to be able to free the crux b/c i'm such a suckass rock climber

the bone at castle rock found me on my one climb on it doing a most bizarre and enjoyable face-out from the rock giant jug-grab combined w/ a wierdo side-ways manouevre