sobo

naah, she lost that a lonnnnnnnnnng time ago...

I've gotten warnings before, but I DID contest every one. Be PROACTIVE in your dissent. I wrote a standard complaint/not gonna pay it letter, based off the verbiage from Scott Silvers website (some here may call him a crack, but I'm with him on this BULLSHIT "demonstration" fee program. You could do a search on this site with Fee Demo in the title and use "newer than 7 years" as the timeframe. I'd do it for you and send you the link, but I'm crashing on a deadline for work this weekend.

the Hydra

clearly, clucking isn't one of them.

So Dane's a clucker after all

Uh, maybe you should have opted for the stitch. Just sayin'. Ya think I went a bit overboard with the surgery, eh?

A lot of people are clowns, and a lot of people have feet. But NO ONE has guns like hers! ID-ing her was a slam dunk. BTW, the clown feet thang is just a ruse to distract would-be Sherri hunters. They're elusive creatures, those wood nymphs...

It's all right, Off. I'd miss you if you were dead, so you're covered.

Not trying to be a holier-than-thou type, but your first quoted passage generally only works if you're single or have a wife/GF/SO that you don't really care much about, or have kids that you don't really much care about. I found that I had to quit any high-end soloing once kids entered the picture. Even with a half million in life insurance, I'd feel like a real dick if I deprived my kids of a father because I wanted something that made me be irresponsible, inconsiderate, and obnoxious.

Really? Do they work now? Yes, they are working now. Whatever you did, Kevin, thanks. Looks like a nice trip. Way to go get some of it.

Children of the Sun

It's how we ride.

i want to go wenching...

She really was a trooper. On the ride back to hospital, this time to check her in, she was calling her workmates and letting them know she "wasn't going to make it in tomorrow." You had merely misplaced your magic wand that day. Perfectly understandable. It healed up so well you can hardly tell it happened. It's all in my genetics, ya know...

Youch! Six weeks and still no shuffling about. I'd say you're right about who got the worst of it, friend.

You can try, but nobody's going to believe that one guy can have THAT much bad luck in a single day.... On the plus side, the second accident brought us together in real life, at last... Actually, Sherri, I met you after the third accident of the day. So now... the rest of the story... So I’m hanging out with Dane in the hospital ER and the staff is taking him hither and yon, poking and probing him incessantly. His wife Tracy has been alerted to the incident by a call from Dane on his cell phone (remember that part), so I figure I’ll wait until she gets there from Issaquah so that Dane’s not left alone with those medical types. Tracy arrives a few hours later and after a bit, we discuss Dane’s rig up at Castle Rock and how to retrieve it. You see, Dane was supposed to be driving his old beater truck which could survive a "night out" alone, but instead he decides at the last minute to pirate his wife’s fancy new Beemer for the drive across Stevens Pass. Well, clearly one can’t leave a Beemer at the Castle Rock parking lot overnight... So after some discussion about Tracy and me heading up to get it and leaving Dane solo, we hit upon the fact that Debbie, Tracy’s sister-in-law, lives in East Wenatchee. She and her husband Tim had been out of town for the day, and they were just getting back home when Tracy called her. "We’ll get Debbie to drive up with sobo, and that way Tracy can stay with Dane until they get back with the car, and then we can figure out what to do with it after that." It seemed like a cunning plan... So another hour or so later Debbie and I are driving up to Castle Rock, discussing Dane’s accident. I offer the obvious: "So do you want to see the rock where he fell? And where he bounced and landed?" Debbie readily agrees, saying it would be cool to get an appreciation of it from a first-hand perspective. So we get there, and hike up the short trail to the base of The Fault. We check out the scene, and then head back down. Debbie did fine on the way up the trail, not so much on the way down. At the last switchback, just below the tree roots that grow across the trail, she slipped on the loose dirt and gravel. She tries to catch herself – SNAP! She rolls off the trail and starts sliding down the hillside, screaming about her ankle. I grab her before she gets too far, and stabilize her in the dirt. She’s an RN, and she assures me that she’s broken her ankle in the slip and fall, so I don’t even try to get her to stand on it. It’s early evening now, and the parking lot crowd has thinned significantly. I decide that the best thing to do is to get her down to the road first, then flag down a passing motorist second. I hold her ankle aloft and drag her by the pants legs while she skids her butt down the last 50 feet of trail to the parking lot. I deposit her at the base of the trail, and go looking for help. I spy this wood nymph milling about a vehicle on the far side of the lot, stashing climbing gear into the back. I approach this mesmerizing siren and inquire if she would be willing to help me load an incapacitated person into the rig. She indicates in the affirmative, and suggests that her friend Dan, who was watering the dog in the river, could also join in the operation. So the three of us load Debbie into her truck, I get her all buckled in with her leg elevated on the dash, and I prepare to leave. Dan had gone back to tend to the pooch, so I exchange introductions and thanks with the enchanting rock creature. She introduces herself as “Sherri”, and my mind instantly flashes to a stored image of the photograph submissions for the Girls of CC.Com Calendar contest of last year. I steal a glance at her biceps and make a quick mental comparison: "Yup, gurl's got guns - must be 'that' Sherri." And that’s how I finally met The Mountain Goddess That Is Sherri. So that was the third accident that day. Now, let's go back... remember Dane’s cell phone? As soon as we got Dane loaded into the ambulance, he wanted his cell phone so he could call Tracy to have her come and get him. I jumped out of the back of the van, but I didn't duck my head far enough. The top of my head crashed full-speed into the top of the back door of the ambulance and I split my scalp open (that’s what I get for taking off my helmet too soon ). And this was a padded door jamb! WTF?? It dazed me for a second, but not to the point of seeing stars (been there, done that, in my sailboat racing days). I bled all over the floor of their van, and the paramedics got all amped up about my state. I convinced them that all I really needed was a towel. I got Dane his phone and they took off, and I went back up and cleaned up our gear from the scene and then headed into Wenatchee to meet up at the hospital. The faces of the hospital staff when I walked in the doors and up to the front desk were absolutely priceless!!!1 Dried blood all over one arm, more blood from my hairline down to my eye, and holding a white towel covered in fresh blood to my head. You should have seen them jump into action. It was hilarious! They took a look, and said I could benefit from a stitch or two, or I could opt not. I opted for not. So they say bad things happen in threes. After I tallied up the day's travails and tribulations, I thought I'd be OK for the long drive home. Thankfully, it was uneventful. PS: Debbie ended up with 2 pins, 6 screws, and a plate for her troubles.

Yeah, I caught that, too. :neck hair bristling:

I'm sure that's true, Dane. Mike and ivan, if you thought that first Petzoldt quote was ghey, then mebbe you'd like some of his other ones better: "Sit down and have a cigarette after you do first aid, then plan your evacuation." or "Rules are for fools."

you young kids these dayz... let us relics have our moment, plz.

Wow, that is sad indeed, given how close they were to their stuff and what surely could have meant survival for Peter.

"There are old climbers, and there are bold climbers, but there are no old, bold climbers." ...Paul Petzoldt Gave up soloing regularly about 15 years ago or so, shortly after entering my 30s. Now, if I do it, it's for a short pitch or just to get to a tougher spot where a rope is required. I do still enjoy solo backpacking trips and solo alpine "excursions" at the low end of the technical range (5.4-ish), but I wouldn't call that real soloing at all.

I don't see any pics...

I'll get to it later this week. I'm pretty busy at and after work this week, so I ask for patience. You won't believe... "the rest of the story..."

Sorta like this, marc?

fuggin' A!!!1 and we can't even say, "That was aid."