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Climbing Ice With Only One Boot


Heinouscling

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OK, call me a knucklehead if you must, but this story was just too funny not to be told.

Last Friday afternoon I took off from Portland for another weekend of anticipated ice climbing in Lillooet. My partner and I went through the usual routine we've been doing all Winter. I met him in Seattle, at which time he took over the driving and we continued on to Lillooet. We arrived at the Mile-O around 12:30 AM after over five hours of driving from Seattle, and 8 hours for me, coming from Portland. We were quite tired after having endured the nasty three day weekend traffic. The only thing that made it bearably was the thought of being on ice the next morning, for which we talked about constantly during the drive up. CLIMB IIIIICE!!!!!So we get into our motel room and immediately start preparing to retire for a few hours sleep. I start digging through my big duffle bag that I always throw my gear into, looking for my alarm clock. I pull out one of my boots and place it on the floor. I continue to dig around in my duffle. A few seconds later I notice something. Its just that strange feeling one gets that something just is not right. I vaguely remember getting that feeling as I was leaving my apartment in Portland but at the time I hadn't the faintest idea why. I realize that the bag is unusually light. Scarpa Invernos are not the lightest of boots. I look down at the floor and see the one boot. I look in my bag. No boot. I look again, this time emptying it. No boot! Ah ha, my partner is fucking with me.

"Dude, quite fucking with me.""Huh?""Dude, wheres my boot?""I have no fucking idea what the hell you are talking about dude.""Dude, you didn't hide my boot?""Dude! Fuck no!""DUUDE, WHERE THE FUCK IS MY BOOT!!!"

I then start searching frantically for my boot. Sort of like Caveman, when he misplaces his beer. No dice!

I ONLY HAVE ONE FUCKING BOOT!!!!

I search the truck. No boot. I search the entire apartment. No boot. Under the beds. No boot. Under the bathroom sink. NO BOOT!!!

Fortunately for me, my partner, who has been getting in a buttload of ice this Winter, and who had himself almost forgotten his boots on a previous trip, was graciously understanding. Also, the fact that we are headed to the Canadian Rockies next week for nine days of ice climbing heaven, helped to alleviate the pain.

So, to make a long story short, after a night of sporadic sleep, due to waking up hoping it was all a nightmare, we awoke the next morning wondering how to salvage even just a little bit of the trip. We came upon a couple of ideas, both of them wishful thinking.

The first was that maybe I could wear one of my partners Inverno's since he happened to bring both his leathers and his plastics. Unfortunately, there was no way I was going to get my size 13 foot into his size 10 Inverno, unless I wore the boot without a liner. Not the most comfortable boot setup for ice climbing. Besides, even though we desparately wanted to save the weekend, I had to keep in mind that I needed my foot for the upcoming Rockies trip.

The next idea was to strap on one of my partner's spare Grivel Rambo Comp crampons onto my ratty old walking shoe (which, by the way, possessed some holes big enough to stick a finger through). Nope! No dice! The crampon would undoubtedly fall off and I still needed my foot for the Rockies trip.

So anyhow, we spent the rest of Saturday in Vancouver searching for a pair of leather boots that I'd been contemplating buying for the last two years. Unfortunately, size 13 ice climbing boots are not the easiest to find.

We drove back home, laughing about it the whole time and talking about CLIMBING IIIIICE!! in the Canadian Rockies. Needless to say, I payed for the gas and motel and bought my partner a steak dinner and promised repeatedly it would never happen again. Hey, what can I say, I've never even forgotten a small item during my seven years of climbing. Hmm, am I getting senile?

After arriving back home, I was able to piece together the events that caused this horrendous event to occur. I will save you the details but this may help some of you to not repeat this same stupid mistake. I had packed Thursday evening after a full on session of gym climbing. Its not good to pack when you are tired and spaced out. My gear room has a closet where my boots are located. I have a packing box sitting on the floor at the entrance to the closet. I had placed the boots on the box while packing. I had grabbed one boot and threw it into my duffle. While grabbing that one boot, I had knocked the other boot, out of sight, behind the box. After placing the one boot in the bag, I looked back for the other boot on the box. No boot. This is when the brain fart occured. I mistakenly concluded the other boot must also already be in the bag, when in fact, I had knocked it off the box, for which it was now behind. I zipped up the duffle and left without the boot.

Even though this event was non life threatening, I heavily contemplate it. If I can brain fart while packing, then it can occur while climbing. I've never had an incident occur while climbing and I wish to keep it that way. I believe this event has been an awakening of sorts for me. After having conducted the act of packing, hundreds of times, for climbing trips and never forgetting anything, I was lulled into thinking it would never happen. Therefore, I did not bother to double check the contents of my duffle and pack. I must be sure I never enter into a similar false sense of security while climbing, due to never having had an incident.

So, please tell me I'm not he only one to have pulled such a horrendous goof. After contemplation, I cannot imagine a worst piece of gear to forget, for an ice cragging trip, than one ice climbing boot. Am I correct?

I'm interested to hear stories from all of my CC.com friends.

-Heinous

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Captiol Reef: Winter 1999.

My bro Mike from grad school, who had also worked in the area at one time, was flying in to visit and enjoy some winter desert climbing. After picking him up in Salt Lake and catching up, I start telling him about some climbs in the park including this new trad line that we could do the next day. After a winter of rotting on the east coast, Mike was keen. My rack and shoes were in my trunk where I had thrown them a few days earlier while leaving Indian Creek, so the next day we just jump in the car and drive to the crag. We hike in, I rack up, boot up, and start looking around for the end of the rope. THE ROPE, Crap! I left the damn rope, I SUCK! So hike out, drive out, grab a rope, drive back, hike in... an hour later Mike is chillin, just happy to be there and enjoying the complete silence. Possibly the worst climbing related brain fart I've had (well except the time I "z" clipped myself three times on one climb at Josh, twice on the same piece, beat that ehh).

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After planning for 6 months to do the Ptarmagin Traverse and driving four hours out to Cascade River Road, I discovered I forgot BOTH boots.

The next 8 hours of driving home and back was without a lot of conversation in the car.

That was the worst one for me...although just last Sat. we had to do a roundtrip run back home when both my partner and I forgot to grab helmets when going ice climbing. mad.gif" border="0mad.gif" border="0mad.gif" border="0

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My smart-ass climbing partner suggested I submit our trip report from about 10 years ago. Weekend before Christmas as I recall, although I've been doing my best to forget the whole thing. We left Paradise early and skiied up to Muir with big fing packs. Got to the hut about 3:30 or 4:00 with big storm clouds building up to the west. No one else around but us. We spent some time shoveling out the door, finally got into the hut and started unpacking. We got some dry clothes on, Walt retrieved some snow and I went to unpack the stove. Shit, no stove. We went through my pack twice and through Walt's once just in case. So let's see, storm coming in, no water, no stove and not a lot of other conversation.

We threw the packs back on and proceeded to flail back down to Paradise. The snow sucked, our legs were trashed and the weather sucked. I have never done so many headers in my life. We finally got to the car, headed down the hill and found the gate down at Longmire. A half-hour later after thoughts of beer and food we found someone to let us out. Now with beer and food our only focus in life we drove west arriving at every restaurant just as they closed. It was uncanny. We finaly found something open in Puyallup where they consider Denny's to be high class. We ended up in some place where we were the only ones not smoking, the beer was either Coors light or MGD and the steak tasted worse than we smelled. Great trip! Anything to add Walt?Terry

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Damn, that was good! You forgot to add I lost my prized piolet I picked up in Namche in Nepal after one too many butt plants on the descent from Muir!

A group I ski in Canada with has an award for things like this - it's called the Dildus and consists of a dildo attached as the handle to the bottom foot of a ski pole. Definitely dildus material.

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The little sporting goods shop in Lillooet used to have some faily heavy outdoor boots. You could have bought a pair and then lashed a carmpon to it with two dozen or so zip ties and cordage. I'm sure you could follow pitches with one good boot and one light duty boot. Delcate work andFrench technique when you could. My trango extremes that I climb ice with have an upper as soft as the basketball shoes I wore in fourth grade. I even ski a little with them or should I say proceed to faceplant every 10 feet.

At least you are heading up to the rockies to get some mileage.

Have fun.

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Two items I remember forget really well.

1) Forgot my jacket on the North Face of Chair Peak. I wore my down, didn't get messed up and was warm the whole way up and down. Small pocket though

2) Forgot my climbing harness last year ice climbing at Alpental. Have a cool picture of me leading with a swami-belt I made from 10' of webbing I had in my cord bag. The rapple sucked. My partner asked I stop to take a picture, but I just wanted to get down and breath again. Thoughs oldtimers were hard core.

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I was at the Ingalls Lake trailhead with my climbing partner. He was just raving on about how nice the spare pair of socks he was taking on the N Ridge of Stuart would be for wearing at the bivvi, changing into for the descent etc...

He let me wear them which was jolly nice of him. Doing the whole approach in Tevas or boots without socks would have sucked.

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its okay special ned, cleester is with us now. i have mailed him the chip to implant into his skull so he may receive the beams of light from the great ones above!!!!! and carry out the directions and wishes from the overlords of the peace and beer.....

long live the overlords!!!!!

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Got roped up at Muir to go up the DC last Summer at about midnight and fortunately only 2 minutes into the slog I realized I hadn't brought my Glacier Glasses! Sunglasses aren't usually on my mind at that hour. Serious suckage on the way down had I not remembered. It's all about keeping everything together at all times!

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About 5 years ago I was doing the rmi try-out up at paradise. Did the drive up there in tevas. Went out to get all dressed up and found that I had everything needed except for socks, gaiters, axe and poles. Since the try out is an elimination process, guess who was the first knuckle head to be dropped. Looking at in hindsight, it was a very good thing.Last year at red rocks, three of us showed up to dark shadows with only one 8mm static rap line. Ooops.Looking at these posts, it seems we should all keep spare boots and harness in the first aid kit.

[ 02-21-2002: Message edited by: genepires ]

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On the descent from Mt. Stuart a couple years ago I left my rope up at Ingalls Pass. Fortunately some Mountaineers out for a day trip with their 17,000,000 cubic inch packs (full) brought it back down with them and were wandering around in the parking lot with it. I vowed not to badmouth them for at least two weeks. [big Drink][big Drink]

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Back in my college days we took off for a spring break trip to Levinworth. When we got to protland (from corvalis) I realized I left the rack and rope in the dorm. Over spring break the dorms get locked up and no one can get in. A quick phone call revealed that we were SOL. The next day I got a call from my room mate. He noticed I had left my gear and figured I would be looking for it. He grabbed it just befor the dorms where locked up. A quick drive back to salem to pick up the gear and we were back on track. One day lost but better than nothing.

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