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Two outrageously funny posts in the same thread. I had to re-post them here.

 

Poster: Unabonger

Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2004 2:33 pm Post subject: Re: Most Embarrassing Climbing Experience?

 

The following was posted a few years ago on rec.climbing. I don't know who this guy is, but I'm prettysure it doesn't get more embarassing than this. UB

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Code Brown: An Epic? Or Food Story?

 

One Friday night, long ago, a climber who will remain anonymous consumed

many, many beers, a giant burrito, and more beers. Stumbles home. Saturday

morning, his alarm pierces the early morning darkness. The climber chokes

down a thirty-grain superfiber muffin. He leaves with his partner, whose

impatience is obvious, and in the bleary fog left from the previous evenings

festivities, the climber neglects his morning "constitutional".

 

His partner provides a giant thermos of excellent and much needed strong

coffee for the drive up to Mt. Evans. Cup after cup serves to revive the

climber, and by the time they've finished the drive and shuffled along the

approach, the climber can appreciate the sublime surrounds, and is amused by

the antics of the mountain goats and their young, jumping crazily from ledge

to ledge with hundreds of feet of exposure.

 

The climber and partner execute four rappels down the granite cliffs. Now

they are committed to climbing back up as the easiest way back to the car.

The route is unfamiliar, but should be well within the pair's limits. The

partner takes the first lead. With the partner 70 feet up, the climber

watches as something falls from the partner, as it comes close, he reaches

out, and BAM, he catches the car keys. A good luck omen, definitely, he

thought, for if he hadn't caught them, they would have been irretrievably

lost in the talus far below, protected from the current position by a

hundred feet of 4th class rock.

 

The climber's amusement continues as he starts the first pitch, climbing

smoothly and marveling at the beautiful terrain, he arrives at the tiny

belay ledge. Soon, though, the climber's amusement turned to discomfort,

and his stomach rumbled. Something was wrong. Something needed to give.

Soon. The climber's discomfort soon turned to dismay mixed with pain as he

realizes the implications of his predicament. Pounds of foodstuff, probably

poorly digested, still resided within him. Bloated by beer, topped off with

Mexican food, lubricated by bran, accelerated by coffee. He felt like an

overfilled sausage skin, with someone squeezing the middle. His harness

will not allow for removal and proper relief, in any case, there's no proper

place for such relief...

 

In a cramped voice, he hands the lead to his partner again. "I'm feeling a

bit queasy, yes, you should do this lead also."

 

With his partner halfway up, the pain of holding back grew greater than the

shame of letting loose. With a groan, a teary eye, and clenched teeth, he

opened the valve and let it go. And go it did. It kept going and going,

filling his pants with a loose and smelly stew. At home this would've been

a multi flush monster. Here, the squishy mud spooged down his legs,

squashed by his leg loops, and settled near his ankles, trapped only by the

elastic bands, which were failing anyway. Still the smelly mud was coming,

and like a chocolate icing out of a tube, it started dropping from his pants

legs, falling like brown hail down to the rocks below.

 

With a few last shudders, the brown gusher stopped, leaving a disgusting and

foul smelling mess smeared along the inside of his pants, and a goodly

collection still trapped by the leg loops of his harness, turning his

underwear into a defective sort of overfull diaper.

 

His partner, by now arrived safely at the belay, had no clue what had

happened. The climb must go on, so our stinky hero worked his way up, and

with a few meters to go before reaching his partner, started explaining. A

frown, a sigh, and a strong motivation to finish quickly passed over the

partner. Too smelly to share the intimate belay, the climber stayed below

the stance, tied in out of arms reach, but within the nose's, from his

partner.

 

Of course leading was now out of the question for the muddied climber--any

fall might have dislodged brown hail from his ankle openings upon his

hapless partner. Content to slump against the wall, he belayed his partner

without incident to the top. Blessed was the feeling when he reached the

backpacks, despite the now cold temperatures, he stripped naked, and

attempted a cleanup operation using a liter of water (thirst was strong, but

disgust stronger). With only small success, he now faced a walk of several

miles back to the car, on a popular trail. His sole clothing was an old

cheap plastic tarp, originally used for a convenient ground cover when

gearing up or having lunch. Now it was a smelly and ill-fitting skirt.

 

For the drive home he kept the tarp on, shivering in the bed of the pickup

truck for the ride back to Boulder. In the following years, he never rushed

out of the house without a proper visit to the holiest of shrines, the

toilet.

 

 

 

 

Poster: endrizzi

Posted: Mon Apr 19, 2004 8:28 pm Post subject: Re: Most Embarrassing Climbing Experience?

 

For high school graduation present I took my quite, self-conscious introverted nephew up Durance at Devil's Tower. Prior I warned him to take a crap before climbing or else there would be issues. On top of leaning tower I get the "Uncle Mike, I have issues". I decide to go up another pitch and let him do his business.

 

I hear a scream "OH YEAH BABY!!! WAAHHOOOO, GOTTA LOVE THAT ONE. WHO"S YOUR DADDY" etc. etc. Finally: "UNCLE MIKE, THAT WAS THE BEST CRAP I EVER TOOK IN MY LIFE!!! THANK YOU!!!". Of course because of the amphitheater effect it echoed throughout the whole east wall and every tourist and climber had their eyes on us.

 

When he came up next to me he was filled with testosterone and pride. "Hey Uncle Mike, I just crapped in my pants...LOOK!" It was 95 degrees and I could smell it before he got to me. It was leaking out of his ankles.

 

I spent the rest of the climb trying to get away from him, but the rappels were the worst. He was so ripe by then I wanted to vomit last week’s tacos.

 

Once on the ground I gave him all my gear and walked quickly in front of him. He was a playing swaggering mountain man with all my gear. He went up to a tourist with his camera and said "Hey Mr., could you take a picture of Uncle Mike and I?” The look on the tourist's face went from friendly smile to death camp horror as he took his first whiff. My nephew ran up to me and hugged me tight and yelled "Dude, take the picture". I just wanted to vomit again.

 

At the campground my nephew took off his grundies and put them on a stick and flew them like a flag as he paraded around the campground like a toy soldier.

 

Last time I ever take any of my relatives climbing.

 

dreez

 

PS: I've got the pictures in case you doubt me.

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