ivan

jesus, been 11 years since i took on luetholds in june http://cascadeclimbers.com/forum/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=365727

the easy routes on hood are the standard south side and the more adventerous luetholds coulior, then the n side routes of the cooper spur and the sunshine route - the n side has longer approaches in june and greater objective danger (exposure on cooper spur, crevasses on the sunshine) - i've never experienced either n side route w/ any company, but any south side route will have company (usually only a few parties on luetholds, but potentially hundreds on the standard s side) easy routes require little more than a decent set of lungs, the right gear, and a stomach for exposure as you near the top weather in june is usually very stable and good - you'll likely want a midnightish start as it gets warm quickly and the cliffs start shitting on you

seems like you got it figured out - if you can get a mortar and some nitro though, there's a better way

thanks for writing up what must be still difficult to deal with - congrats on surviving, but it sounds like it's a very new life you have to learn to cope with, so best of luck with that so, after the accident, there was still a runner around the tree and a locking biner with a closed gate attached to it?

If by harsh you mean awesome. indeed. has the OP commented on index yet? goddamn, as much as i love beacon, i sure do wish i was just an hour commute from the city walls...

1/25 - day 3 - a day to die for - the circle complete - beacon set to close up shop for a mighty long season but fate vouch-safed to chuck this plum in a poor fools lap before it could sling off into spring 'twas a week for settling old scores - my court-date a comely kick-off, it was time to finish the climb adam and i had started that ill-omened late autumn day - we'd bailed from 2 pitches up, having to leave a tangle of biners and webbing to make the 5 lbj-era bolts up there work - hate to let a year go by w/o climbing jensens, and lordy didn't the stars align to reclaim the gear and get lit like a lord in doing so first it was me n' adam on the list - then it was me n' adam n' goeff - it grew then to the 3 of us n' bryan too, then finally even fucking mike was coming out of his homo-biking hermitage to have at it w/ o - a 5-spot for fortune n' fleeting greatness started poorly enough - me n' mike sitting at the b.k. for a good bit waiting for the assembly of demi-gods to gaggle together - eventually bryan and goeff showed a half hour late but i didn't mind - heavy fog in camas but frequently giant flocks of geese would go raging by above, gaudy as ghosts, gallumping off north - we gave adam 3 minutes to arrive then called to discover he was still snoozing in bed - damn, my cheap oregon smokes were in danger (and shit, i never did give that boy his 5-spot! remind me when next we meet, hear?) sunny on the south side but a bit of a breeze - quite the clown-fucking convention we had to contend with - eventually we got it settled - geoff lead p1 whle mike belays and bryan and i get to guzzle beer and recollect it as recreation geoff got his redemption for shitting between the sheets last month in a steel breeze - mike followed then bryan - adam was there by then, and goeff chucked down the other end of a 70 as bryan was climbing so i could send up another line and the li'l dawg - bryan cast off on p2 as i started jugging and i had a penthouse view of him slip-slidign away on the awful slippery lichenated stone - i had some gut-chuckles w/ the boys n' a butt too as we buttoned-up against the breeze, then bryan was there and i went on up to him to help out in getting An Anchor For a Modern Era bryan was over his dream of repeating a free-ascent of the money pitch and suddenly i found myself delighted to get that pithy peach - adam was still on the ground, connected to us w/ a 70 - geoff came up on the new anchor as i launched into the incredible start that is jensen's 3rd pitch just starting the 11a crack on a blind placement time went by - jim and bill arrived below - lichen populated my eye-balls - the laughable # of 3s, 4s, n' 5s i had got whittled away and then i was there - bryan followed, panting in the odd hibernal-heat as he made the pillar-top - he rested and sorted as geoff followed then was off lickety-split, ending up aiding plenty of the pitch mike jugged up in a jiffy n' got a spiffy pano need to put a decent anchor in the lower nothc of jensens as i was a wee bit unhappy in my pee-pee places to see what had been holding me from flying through the sky down to the sea - an ocean of ants, the fould reek of formic acid exploding on the scene - frogs creek n' croaking, the whole world in wonder at the folly of winter with her guard down, panties askew and napping suddenly we were all at the railing w/ jim n' hogsheads of tourons trundlign up down and all around - butts n' beers n' bullshitting and a fine heady-brew of homo sapien comraderie - the parking lot in the dying lot - pbrs n' pleasant conversation as adam went down to fetch the what have yous, then we set our sights west and went back to being ordinary men poor adam - he ripped 50 feet of poision oak cables out of lay lady lay and the vicinty w/ not even gloves on his hands - he'll be in intensive care till next christmas i fear 1/26 - day IV for the annum - 2nd corner lap of this crisp season too - a warm night of good vibes after yesterdays jensens gang-bang - peanut noodles n' kids games, tv on the couch and a soft slink off to slumber covered in cushions monday off for grading but i'd binged and purged friday night to get that dispatched - a sound sleep-in after somnambulating upstairs this side of dawn - book reading in the bright fog outside my bedroom window - the simple life of simon peg sounded n' sorted out before i need to take the first dump of the day bacon w/ the kids, math-book bound though they were - a bit of wine n' honey and off i was down the sacred highway - beacon not near so balmy as so soon ago - a filtered light came greyly through the high cloud murk, the airs light and limp and heavyish with dampness a couple on the corner already but i breezed by at tree ledge - read an old translation of beowulf on the party ledge and nursed a beer, then up and out via the ridge - more beer n' book by the pin in the last bit of direct sun that could be brought to bare there - croc-shod i clamber up to the trail and the site of former students, their names not recollected till i was several switchbacks further down the long binge home w/ a 3-buck hat pulled low down where my eyes glim - the sun's near set and i sweat not to see the last part of this annual campaign ably dispatched

wow, been going on 8 years since i done this first - amazing we did s-wulf the same day - not got quite that much moxie in the tank these days 1/25 - day 3 - a day to die for - the circle complete - beacon set to close up shop for a mighty long season but fate vouch-safed to chuck this plum in a poor fools lap before it could sling off into spring 'twas a week for settling old scores - my court-date a comely kick-off, it was time to finish the climb adam and i had started that ill-omened late autumn day - we'd bailed from 2 pitches up, having to leave a tangle of biners and webbing to make the 5 lbj-era bolts up there work - hate to let a year go by w/o climbing jensens, and lordy didn't the stars align to reclaim the gear and get lit like a lord in doing so first it was me n' adam on the list - then it was me n' adam n' goeff - it grew then to the 3 of us n' bryan too, then finally even fucking mike was coming out of his homo-biking hermitage to have at it w/ o - a 5-spot for fortune n' fleeting greatness started poorly enough - me n' mike sitting at the b.k. for a good bit waiting for the assembly of demi-gods to gaggle together - eventually bryan and goeff showed a half hour late but i didn't mind - heavy fog in camas but frequently giant flocks of geese would go raging by above, gaudy as ghosts, gallumping off north - we gave adam 3 minutes to arrive then called to discover he was still snoozing in bed - damn, my cheap oregon smokes were in danger (and shit, i never did give that boy his 5-spot! remind me when next we meet, hear?) sunny on the south side but a bit of a breeze - quite the clown-fucking convention we had to contend with - eventually we got it settled - geoff lead p1 whle mike belays and bryan and i get to guzzle beer and recollect it as recreation geoff got his redemption for shitting between the sheets last month in a steel breeze - mike followed then bryan - adam was there by then, and goeff chucked down the other end of a 70 as bryan was climbing so i could send up another line and the li'l dawg - bryan cast off on p2 as i started jugging and i had a penthouse view of him slip-slidign away on the awful slippery lichenated stone - i had some gut-chuckles w/ the boys n' a butt too as we buttoned-up against the breeze, then bryan was there and i went on up to him to help out in getting An Anchor For a Modern Era bryan was over his dream of repeating a free-ascent of the money pitch and suddenly i found myself delighted to get that pithy peach - adam was still on the ground, connected to us w/ a 70 - geoff came up on the new anchor as i launched into the incredible start that is jensen's 3rd pitch just starting the 11a crack on a blind placement time went by - jim and bill arrived below - lichen populated my eye-balls - the laughable # of 3s, 4s, n' 5s i had got whittled away and then i was there - bryan followed, panting in the odd hibernal-heat as he made the pillar-top - he rested and sorted as geoff followed then was off lickety-split, ending up aiding plenty of the pitch mike jugged up in a jiffy n' got a spiffy pano need to put a decent anchor in the lower nothc of jensens as i was a wee bit unhappy in my pee-pee places to see what had been holding me from flying through the sky down to the sea - an ocean of ants, the fould reek of formic acid exploding on the scene - frogs creek n' croaking, the whole world in wonder at the folly of winter with her guard down, panties askew and napping suddenly we were all at the railing w/ jim n' hogsheads of tourons trundlign up down and all around - butts n' beers n' bullshitting and a fine heady-brew of homo sapien comraderie - the parking lot in the dying lot - pbrs n' pleasant conversation as adam went down to fetch the what have yous, then we set our sights west and went back to being ordinary men poor adam - he ripped 50 feet of poision oak cables out of lay lady lay and the vicinty w/ not even gloves on his hands - he'll be in intensive care till next christmas i fear

i can say for sure there's a little less lichen up there now (n' a mort-less oak as well)

brothers, the revolution will not be televised

if the weather's with you (and you don't want to dry hump smith for all its worth), spend that week at index and call it good tieton is okay for a couple days - the goddamn rattlesnakes are out of control though

1/25 - day 3 - a day to die for - the circle complete - beacon set to close up shop for a mighty long season but fate vouch-safed to chuck this plum in a poor fools lap before it could sling off into spring 'twas a week for settling old scores - my court-date a comely kick-off, it was time to finish the climb adam and i had started that ill-omened late autumn day - we'd bailed from 2 pitches up, having to leave a tangle of biners and webbing to make the 5 lbj-era bolts up there work - hate to let a year go by w/o climbing jensens, and lordy didn't the stars align to reclaim the gear and get lit like a lord in doing so first it was me n' adam on the list - then it was me n' adam n' goeff - it grew then to the 3 of us n' bryan too, then finally even fucking mike was coming out of his homo-biking hermitage to have at it w/ o - a 5-spot for fortune n' fleeting greatness started poorly enough - me n' mike sitting at the b.k. for a good bit waiting for the assembly of demi-gods to gaggle together - eventually bryan and goeff showed a half hour late but i didn't mind - heavy fog in camas but frequently giant flocks of geese would go raging by above, gaudy as ghosts, gallumping off north - we gave adam 3 minutes to arrive then called to discover he was still snoozing in bed - damn, my cheap oregon smokes were in danger (and shit, i never did give that boy his 5-spot! remind me when next we meet, hear?) sunny on the south side but a bit of a breeze - quite the clown-fucking convention we had to contend with - eventually we got it settled - geoff lead p1 whle mike belays and bryan and i get to guzzle beer and recollect it as recreation geoff got his redemption for shitting between the sheets last month in a steel breeze - mike followed then bryan - adam was there by then, and goeff chucked down the other end of a 70 as bryan was climbing so i could send up another line and the li'l dawg - bryan cast off on p2 as i started jugging and i had a penthouse view of him slip-slidign away on the awful slippery lichenated stone - i had some gut-chuckles w/ the boys n' a butt too as we buttoned-up against the breeze, then bryan was there and i went on up to him to help out in getting An Anchor For a Modern Era bryan was over his dream of repeating a free-ascent of the money pitch and suddenly i found myself delighted to get that pithy peach - adam was still on the ground, connected to us w/ a 70 - geoff came up on the new anchor as i launched into the incredible start that is jensen's 3rd pitch just starting the 11a crack on a blind placement time went by - jim and bill arrived below - lichen populated my eye-balls - the laughable # of 3s, 4s, n' 5s i had got whittled away and then i was there - bryan followed, panting in the odd hibernal-heat as he made the pillar-top - he rested and sorted as geoff followed then was off lickety-split, ending up aiding plenty of the pitch mike jugged up in a jiffy n' got a spiffy pano need to put a decent anchor in the lower nothc of jensens as i was a wee bit unhappy in my pee-pee places to see what had been holding me from flying through the sky down to the sea - an ocean of ants, the fould reek of formic acid exploding on the scene - frogs creek n' croaking, the whole world in wonder at the folly of winter with her guard down, panties askew and napping suddenly we were all at the railing w/ jim n' hogsheads of tourons trundlign up down and all around - butts n' beers n' bullshitting and a fine heady-brew of homo sapien comraderie - the parking lot in the dying lot - pbrs n' pleasant conversation as adam went down to fetch the what have yous, then we set our sights west and went back to being ordinary men poor adam - he ripped 50 feet of poision oak cables out of lay lady lay and the vicinty w/ not even gloves on his hands - he'll be in intensive care till next christmas i fear

the way it is of course though is a constantly moving thing, the n cascades of 2015 ain't the same as that even of 1985 - i for one really wish the golden age of the cascades that enabled beckey and his brethern to do so much awesome shit could be maintained

nice to see there's some things cc.retards can agree on

Red Herring. How about just open the fucking gate earlier when the road is clear and the weather is decent? Nobody is advocating privatizing the park. I'm saying we can't even get decent access with our taxpayer dollars. I've arrived at 8:15 am on a bluebird day, rangers are on duty in their cars at the gate... and refusing to open it. And copping an attitude when asked when they might open it. Later in the day, at Paradise, they then make their rounds to folks changing, taking off boots "you know the road closes in 30 min... you need to move now". Well if you opened the fucking road an hour earlier this would not be an issue. i go to rainier so rarely i can't comment much on the issue - i do remember getting held up one mornign for a good long while as they did snow chain inspections and such. what is their state purpose for the closures? seems odd, given that you can drive up to timberline on hood at all hours and the terrain/conditions are pretty much the same. they don't do that shit in summer do they?

i'm taking several trips up to olympia over the next few months to do some lobbying, mostly on education issues, but assuredly i'll be talking 'bout beacon w/ my 3 reps there (2 of whom might actually care ) i remember erik, and yup, can't remember ever getting lectured n' hectored by him. karl's been fine too, as you say, and despite the graffiti in the men's room there, vivian's generally alright too. this new kid's on the boat fishign w/ fredo to me now though.

if the guy who's getting bucks from slinging cheetos n' cappuchinos was in charge of the gate, it'd probably be opened earlier right?

so long as i can still get the 99 cent frozen burritoes and free salsa packets at the lodge gift shop i'm happy what would be a more just way of getting cheetoes to the masses visiting parks in your estimation?

1/21 - day 2 - VICTORY!!! not that i ever need an excuse to get me some bacon, but today i was compelled to put in an appearance at the skamania court house - larry the tool (you know, the new one who was a lot like the old one?) saw fit to write me a 138$ ticket last november for getting back to the devil an hour after dusk, as apparently the current regime wants to say that's the same as bivying or doing a midnight ascent - don't know what the new feller was all butt hurt over, maybe it was just the shame of having to be bailed out of a bad spot last summer after his incompetence made itself plain before the very people he aspires to lord it over? anyhow, i asked for my day in court and had a capital time today seeing justice in action - took a half day off and got good enough weather for a quick stop at beacon- gabbed w/ old man jeff n' coastie adam about the gubimint - they then were off to see what those rat bastards have been up to over on the what-have-you lately - i romped down to the base for a solo in street shoes n' shirt n' tie up the first half of the first pitch - then raced back up to the lot and hopped into the devil and bounded on in to stevenson in time to take my seat the courthouse reminds me a bit of church - same sad old faces all around - same smell of worn wood and the same deep solemnity suffused through the assembly - the judge was a jovial looking chap at least sat on the group W bench awhile reading my national geographic and grinning to hear all the cases of my fellows next to me who'd gotten the big dickie from the beacon man since thanksgiving - it was a mort of my fellow 'mericans, and they mostly got their fines reduced and a friendly reminder to Render on to Ceasar What Is.. then it was my turn to take the big oath and do my song and dance - i was delighted to see the Man With The Robe quickly warming to my argument - a decade of getting back to lot after dark with nary a ticket - the custom quite clear: pay yer 10 clams if yer bivying on the rock or doing a moon-light ascent, but never this nickel and dime "yer back 10 minutes after dusk" bullshit i'm paraphrasing for the purpose of comedy i concede, but the Man in Black basically said repeatedly: "i get it, i get it, the bastards out there at beacon are little bitches, but i can't tell them what to do - all i can do is throw out their tickets, which is what i'm going to do" - SCORE! and then the best line of all: "have you posted about this on cascade climbers? i hear that's a good place to discuss these issues" so anyhow that's how the ball bounced - with a healthy reaffirmation for yer friend and humble narrator as to the virtue of our montesquien machine of government - one hand wacks on the other, eh? celebrated the greatest civil rights victory of our modern age by gulping down a pabst and sprinting up the trail in the dusk, taking a slight detour into the weeds after my hat got blown off my head at the top of uprising - then it was back to the big city and a union meeting in closing, if there's anythign serious to discuss here, what think you to a nocturnal version of the annual 30$ park pass? i'd easily get 30$ of night climbing in each year, plus be protected against this penny-ante crap

say the word and i'm there

for every man living on this earth means waiting for his end let he who can achieve glory before death when a warrior is gone that will be his best and only bulwark

course i did, the other c*nt wouldn't promise to get my creedance back

in my world the ACA is used by the boss-man as the reason to NOT use a particuliar substitute more than a 3 times a week - the Man is geniunely horrified at the prospect of having to help a brother survive - i'd be okay w/ that were it not for the incredulous face they make when they wonder aloud "why do we always have sub shortages?"

spies ain't allowed to have sex drives