Our finest (dumbest) moments

[Uncle_Tricky]

Speaking of forgetting shoes, a woman friend and I made the drive to Darrington on a perfect Spring day last year. We hiked up to the base of silent running, where she discovered her climbing shoes were still back in Sea-town. It actually worked out all right. Since we had two ropes, I would lead up to the anchors, take my shoes off, and clip them the trailing rope. We would then play tug of war to keep the rope tight, and the shoes would trolly down the free rope to her. She'd put on the shoes, which were clownishly large for her, and head up to me. We repeated the process over and over and it worked out fine!

[fredrogers]

The dumbest mistake I ever made was when I went to climb the Mole with TimL and Air Barker.

Well, it was a series of mistakes.

The first was disregarding a grade IV approach from Jim Nelson. The second was missing the climber's path from the Snow Creak trail and having to buskwack up steep, old fire burn in 90 heat (although TimL will deny that we got lost. It was so heinous he's blocked it from memory. But I have photographic proof.)

The third mistake was not camping at Toketie lake and carrying the 2 1/2 miles to Mesa Lake. We wake late and stagger to the start of the climb where we realize that we're late and running out of time. Air Barker nobley offers to not rope up, and in fact hike back to camp and sherpa our shit to Toketie lake.

TimL and I start up the climb and quicky realize that we have just abused ourselves badly for the equivalent of the Tooth with two short 5.7 sections (although no Mountaineers). Mistake number four.

After managing to squeeze my fat ass and a rope on my back through the squeeze chimney, I adjust my harness at the belay before the second crux. Mistake #5. TimL leads off and eventually I follow. I decide to tackle the hard layback, because, well, hey, I'm on top rope. I manage without falling, but thinking, well, gee, I'm glad I didn't lead that.

I arrive at the last belay and Tim blasts off towards the summit. It's a beautiful day and I'm enjoying the view of the N Side of the Temple range, the Icicle Valley, the Edward Mesa. Tim hits the summit and I take him off belay and start to get ready to follow the last pitch. I then look down at my harness to realize that I've not bothered to double it back.

After nearly vomitting at the stance, I buckle my harness and head to the top.

Given the remoteness of the Mole, if I had fallen and slipped out of my harness, I shudder to think of what could have happened.

[Cpt.Caveman]

quote:

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Originally posted by KeithKSchultz:

Oh. Are you suposed to wear descent shoes there?

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Nah go barefoot

[KeithKSchultz]

OK. It sucks but I am the "finest".

June 1978, The Valley, 5.8 offwidth variation on Royal Arches Direct. Placed pro up to 25' and ran out of big pieces. Looking up, I spotted the 10 hex hammered in 30' up. "No problem". Boogied right up and was pulling off a sling when I popped.

I slipped down a ways, spun around just in time to slam against the 80 degree section and take 2" swathes of skin off both forearms. Bounced out away from the wall and saw a bush/tree coming at me at a high rate of spead. Remembered the "SRA Readers" from grade school and a story in there about a young sailor who fell from the rigging of a tall ship. As He fell he remembered being told a story about an old salt who did the same stupid stunt and went limp (whole body) right before he hit the deck. Walked away. Walked away. Walked away.

I also layed out flat as I went through the bush/tree and had an "out of body" experience as I watched myself come down through the foliage. When I came back to conciousness, I was coming down from the bounce and heading off the ledge. I reached up and grabbed the rope with both hands and stopped myself from rasping over the rounded edge. There was a four foot loop of rope hanging below me.

All told, I had two nasty rasberries on my forearms, four blisters on my fingers where I grabbed the rope, and one short gash (the only scar) on my knee from hitting the rasp when I stopped.

My belayer was in shock. I landed right in front of him where he was sitting and bounced higher than his head.

And the Moral of the story is.................

[Alpine_Tom]

How many stupid mistakes can you find in this picture?

One September weekend a few years ago, partnerless but not wanting to waste what might be one of the last nice weekends of the year, I headed up to a route Beckey calls the north face of Mt. Dickerman. He calls it class 3 with one short class 4 section and I figured, it’d be challenging but well within my abilities. If not, I could always down-climb it, and hike up Mt. Forgotten instead (it’s on the same trail.)I hiked up the trail, found the proper gully (eventually, after spending half an hour on the wrong one) headed up. I was clearly the only one up there in quite a while – there was so much loose rock I swear I set off rockfalls just looking at rocks too hard!Proceeded to get off-route. Badly. Before long I knew there's no way I could down-climb it, I had no idea where I was but I kept looking up and seeing what looked like easier ground about ten feet up. No? Okay, ten more feet. Okay, then, ten more feet. It was typical crappy cascade dirt-rock, where if you grab a handhold too firmly it comes off in your hand; even if I had a partner and a rope and pro, it’s hard to see what good it would have done, besides slinging the occasional tree who’s branches I had to burrow under.I had a cell phone in my pack, so I comforted myself thinking “well, if it gets too dire, I could always call 911” although how a helicopter would get me off that face is hard to envision. If I could get cell service. The whole way I was assuming I’d pop my head up at the summit, and see a bunch of berry-pickers (it was September) but when I got to the top, it turned out (as Beckey actually said, if I’d actually read the route description closely enough) that I was about a mile or more north of the actual summit, so I got to wander along up and down the rocks of the ridge to the summit which was in fact teeming with berry pickers. Did I mention I ran out of water at the start of the gully?Took the Mt. Dickerman trail down off the mountain. And of course, my car was still at the Mt. Forgotten trailhead, a couple of miles away. I tried to hitch a ride on the highway, but no luck, then a mile up the road to my car.No real damage except for a few scratches and scrapes. Talk about an excess of luck outweighing an excess of stupidity!Later that winter, I hiked up Mt. Forgotten, and tried to spot my route. I couldn't, really, it all looked too irresponsible to think about.

[ 01-10-2002: Message edited by: Alpine Tom ]