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Pooping off a ledge


Reginald

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yeah, last weekend I went on a climbing trip where I climbed rocks a lot. On the first night I was sleeping on a ledge in my handy dandy "porta-bed" when I realized that I really had to go #2. The only place to go was off the ledge. Is pooping off a ledge PC climber etiquette?? If you have to go #2 and you are sleeping on a ledge in your handy dandy "porta-bed" what do you do?

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Mike Scott was one of the hard men putting up routes in the Bitterroot in the early eighties. He led all the hard pitches on a climb we did up Bear creek. As far as we knew there were no other routes on the wall and we had first shot. It was early in the year so we had to take warm clothes and bivy gear. I made an imitation Forrest wall womb the night before, copying the one he borrowed from Kurt Kleiner. The Bear Creek wall is very steep. Kurt and I had already done the first three pitches three weeks before so Scott and I knew to take a full aid rack and two ropes up to the base. It was a three mile hike up to where we had to fill our jugs in the creek. Then the pigs weighed about 85 lbs for the 900' hump to the base.

We moved pretty fast up the first three pitches but the fourth and fifth were tricky. Hauling wasn't too bad but cleaning those overhangs was hard work. It took us all day to get from the car to the top of the fifth pitch which was on the outermost edge of a large blank bulge. Mike drilled three quarter inch bolts and I made it up to our hanging bivy just as the last rays of light disappeared.

We clipped our hammocks in the dark and crawled in. We could just reach each other across the abyss as we passed the pipe back and forth. As we finished, thunder rolled in the west and then the clouds parted above us. We were in a dazzling display of the Milkyway and I do not think it was just the drugs. We forced down as much water as we could before passing out. I remember being amused that every time I lifted the jug to my lips, the hammock tilted back. I would think about the 700' of space below my butt and wish I had been able to inspect Mike's bolts.

The next morning we ate a quick breakfast and hastily packed our gear as there was serious thunder peeling to the west over the Bitterroot divide. As I was about to start out on the first lead off our bivy, Mike looked at me real serious like and said, "man I really have to shit". I begged him to hold it long enough for me to get up fifty feet which he obliged. He undid his leg loops and planted his feet firmly against the outermost edge of our bivy bulge. He looked up me and said "I'm sorry man". and cut loose at least a half gallon of rancid tunafish, chocolate, and Bear Creek water. Some of it made it the entire 700 feet to the base of the wall. Some of it blew into the wall and is there to this day, petrified as proof that we were there and no one else ever would be. But some of it was carried by the wind. It wafted upward and outward. It might have been seen by someone in Stevensville had they known to look. And then, IT RETURNED.

We could see it coming. I began climbing again but Mike had me tied off. I strained against those quarter inch bolts and nearly popped a vein. Then it was over. We were looking at each other like it was our last moment on earth when it hit. We both squinted and frowned, and squirmed in our harnesses. But the suffering continued. Finally the cloud passed (yes, that would be the passed cloud) and we could speak. I croaked out "CLIMBING". and Mike replied "GO MAN GO". It took three rurps and then was A1 for about 60'. I was on a ledge and pretty much in a different inversion layer. I set up a belay and got Mike out of there as quickly as I could. We freed the next three pitches and walked down the ridge to the car.

Thus was climbed the Bear Creek wall for the first time. We named it "Morning Thunder". rockband.gif

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That is a great story the_finger.gif

But unfortunately when you gotta go, you gotta go. I was up on Vampire on Tahquitz, we just finished the crux, and my partner had a sudden case of the runs. Unfortunately it was a bolt anchor directly above route. He was kind and stuck his ass out to one side as far as he could and let it fly. He was a crazy dude. He finished wiping his ass with his hand, then wiped some crud on the bolts... glad I was already a pitch up from him and not below him. I felt sorry for the climbers the following day. How would you feel after pulling the crux to come up to the belay anchors right next to a streak of shit, and have shit on the bolts as well...

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stanley was guiding a japanese client up the rostrum. he gets to the o/w part and it is slicked with diarreha. he jams thru(almost vomitting) and then lowers a coil for his client.

 

they top out and there are these haulbags hanging right below the notch. some people were apprently top rope aiding the regular route.

 

so stanley took the bags and tossed them.

 

there was quite a scene the next am in the caf. the top rope aiding tourons didn't fare so well.

 

 

 

 

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erik said:

stanley was guiding a japanese client up the rostrum. he gets to the o/w part and it is slicked with diarreha. he jams thru(almost vomitting) and then lowers a coil for his client.

 

they top out and there are these haulbags hanging right below the notch. some people were apprently top rope aiding the regular route.

 

so stanley took the bags and tossed them.

 

there was quite a scene the next am in the caf. the top rope aiding tourons didn't fare so well.

 

 

 

 

That''s fucking classic, I wish I could have been there to see all that action. ..

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then there is the "shit pillar" incident from last summer.

 

special and i were up at squish for the 4/20 weekend. after buying crack from a toothless guy, we bailed on downtown van.

 

next am we are brewing up the sprolag to wash down our bacon and eggs. it was a 2 or 3 cup morning. the kids never requested attention, or atleast immediate attention, so we blasted up the grand wall. made fairly good time to the base of the pillar. we waited for some eastern europeans to put a cam in, pull, take, rest, put a cam in, pull take, rest...repeated like every 3 minutes. well suddenly the kids were a rumbling and bad. i mean bad. we simul rapped back to the ground and i had my harness half off by the time i reached the ground, and i dove into the bushes just in the knick of time. poor bolder problem.

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i think it was last summer or the one before.

 

but we made the trek into the cathedral peak area. on the 20+ mile approach(which is really mellow) one member of our group was struck with deatharhea. poor guy had to go like every 15-20 minutes. it made for a long day for the group and i can only imagine what it did to buddy and the chaffe!

 

 

 

 

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Tim you've had more than your fair share of "incidents"...

 

Here's another story:

 

Right when I started climbing, I headed up to Castle Rock with my friend "Bill" and a friend of his roommates, Mike, who wanted to go climbing that day. Bill was leading up the chimney pitch of Midway, with me belaying and Mike tied in to the end of rope. Bill made the step across to the the top of Jello tower and we hear this "Uh-oh." Bill the screams "off-belay" and something else we can't hear. We yell back up "Belay off" and he screams again, but we still can't understand him. Then his head pops over the edge and he screams "Untie from the fucking rope! Untie from the fucking rope! I'm fucking touching cloth here and need to rap fucking off! Do you have any fucking TP?"

 

Mike and I duly untie from the rope, while laughing at Bill's predicament. He raps down so fast he gives him self a major rope burn on his right hand, cleans the rope out of his device and comes running over to me to collect the three shreds of TP I had in my pack. He then ran around the North side of Jello Tower to release the turtle. Not more than 2 minutes later a large, extended family of Asians rounds the corner, followed not more than a minute or two later by two French Canadian guys. They round the corner and see us at the base of Midway and ask us if we're going to climb it. We answer in the affirmative, but tell them we're waiting for our friend. "Oh, the guy around the corner, in the bushes with his pants down around his ankles?" they ask. We laugh and answer yes.

 

Bill comes back around the corner with a much relieved look on his face, but is slightly sheepish because his gasto-intestinal distress was witnessed by no fewer than 9 people. Turns out all he had for breakfast that morning was some peaches, coffee and a couple of smokes, which apparently primed his pump really well. After that day, his new nickname was "Peaches."

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A few years ago I was cleaning the second pitch of the west face of leaning tower. I'm about 30 feet from the anchor when my buddy informs me that he has to go and could not hold it. We where doing the route in a day so we had no poop tube. I don't think I have ever moved so fast in my life. I was about 10 feet below and fortunetly away from the "drop zone" when he let it fly. There are some things I hope I never see again and that was one of them. When I got the the anchors I sacraficed half the gauze pads form my first aid kit so he could clean himself up then he is off on the next pitch. I'm sitting at the anchors thinking how bad this could get if he gets hit by the runs again. I'm quicky distracted by my own strange feeling down south. Soon I too am letting the shit fly. If you are not familiar with the leaning tower it is very overhanging. To get to the first pitch you travers/walk along a ledge that puts you 700 feet or so off the deck to start with. When I let loose it must have gone 900 feet straight down not even touching the wall. Fortunetly it was very early in the morning and no one was below. I felt bad for just letting it fly but there was nothing else we could do. Thank god that was the last of it. The rest of the climb was crap free but still an (sucessful) epic. Note to self: food can go bad quite quickly if left in the bear box for too long.

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This post is just what i needed today.

 

In places where you don't have to bring a shit tube, I carry a paper supermarket sack with handles. The handles are key-- keeps your hands out of the way while you let it rip.

 

Thank you all for this post.

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scott said:

This post is just what i needed today.

 

In places where you don't have to bring a shit tube, I carry a paper supermarket sack with handles. The handles are key-- keeps your hands out of the way while you let it rip.

 

Thank you all for this post.

 

After my leaning tow trip I cam up with the idea of a 2L water bottle, knife and duct tape. All thing they one would likely have on a wall in a day type climb. Empty (drink) the water, cut the top off, poop, liberly tape back together and put back in bags. Just hope it stays together. It is just a theory at this point but if the need ever arises I will likely give it a shot.

 

OK, one more poo story: We are racked up, tight shoes are on and ready to go. My buddy (same guy that was on LT) decides he better go before we start up. He wanders off to do his thing and I'm left at the base to wait. Being a little impatient I start throwing pee sized rocks his way. I can see his head poaking up from behind some rocks and he doesn't move. I throw a few more and no reaction. I grab a hand full and lob them his way. With that he jumps up, shorts around the ankels and takes cover behind a big tree with his ass haning out. I'm laughing so hard I almost piss my pants. Apparnetly he thought the rocks where coming off the wall and he was about to die. I'm cracking up just thinking about it.

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