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      WELCOME TO THE CASCADECLIMBERS.COM FORUMS   02/03/18

      We have upgraded to new forum software as of late last year, and it makes everything here so much better!  It is now much easier to do pretty much anything, including write Trip Reports, sell gear, schedule climbing related events, and more. There is a new reputation system that allows for positive contributors to be recognized,  it is possible to tag content with identifiers, drag and drop in images, and it is much easier to embed multimedia content from Youtube, Vimeo, and more.  In all, the site is much more user friendly, bug free, and feature rich!   Whether you're a new user or a grizzled cascadeclimbers.com veteran, we think you'll love the new forums. Enjoy!
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thrutch

Exit strategy

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Half pound of Rainier cherries the day b4.

Dry wheat toast and 3 cups of coffee the next morning.

 

snaf.gif

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be like a black bear and eat 5 lbs of blueberries in 24 hours

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Pack all your shit in your truck, leave in the middle of the night, don't tell her where to find you, leave your cell phone off for about 12 days and she'll get the hint.

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All of this soul searching in a public forum...we are so eager to share what must certainly qualify as material for a diary. 'Tis amusing to read this introspective drivel on a message board. Let me be the first to say: I DON'T CARE WHY YOU CLIMB OR WHAT YOU GET OUT OF IT!

 

Reminds me of my first years, when I was a sourdough, still we behind my elfen ears. I used to ponder these unaswerable questions (Is it the summit or the hill? The destination or the journey? If I splat on that slab, will the mountains care? Blah blah blah ).

 

At some point in my alpine adventures, I realized that nearly 20 years of seeking bigger, steeper walls and bolder challenges was but for one purpose, to create a necessary condition for a desired response. You see, the first time I stood before a big, icy cliff, the crest of which I couldn't see, my natural reaction was to crap my pants. And the conquest of such a wall required finding a greater challenge, which, when I first encountered it, caused me to soil my shorts, once again. I never thought that my regularity would be a function of the alpine experiences to which I subject myself, but when my climbing pace slowed, when career and family pushed alpinism to the back burner, I noticed that my morning B.M. required more caffeine. The sports page was replaced by a television on which I could view highlights on ESPN. Soon, the only way I could move my bowels in the morning was to watch video of seracs collapsing on K2 whilst my wife simulated that terrible noise by shaking the ice tray in the Frigidair.

 

Finally, the day came when my bowel was about as impacted as Elvis Presley's, and there was no relief in sight. I took the day off work and hiked up to the Willis Wall, where, as you can imagine, when that Eiger-like wall emerged from the morning mists, I was able to work things out.

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