What do you say to your partners?

[Uncle_Tricky]

In another thread JayB wrote:

At any point during the climb did you turn to your belayer with a wild look in your eye and scream "There's no time!!!!!!"?

 

 

I'm gonna break that out tomorrow. It's just ambiguous enough to be truly terrifying to a newbie belayer four pitches up the first route they've climbed. I can hear their thots: "Oh shit, the one fucking person my life depends upon up in this hellish vertical wasteland has gone entirely The Shining on me!"

 

So it got me thinking about the communication that goes on between leaders and belayers while one is up on a pitch. Obviously it depends a lot on the situation and the partner. Sometimes psychological counseling is required. Sometimes practical advice is called for. Sometimes silence, hunkering down and waiting for the bomb to drop is the best option.

 

But there's a lot of classic dialogue that goes on in leader/belayer interactions. I'll admit I can't help but break out the "are you in a good place where I can take you off belay?" question when a green leader is freaking out in a psychologically intimidating but entirely safe spot.

 

I'll also admit I have a bad habit of laughing uncontrollably at my partners when they are sketching on lead in safe situations. I just can't help it, perhaps because I've been there many times. I guess you could call it empathy--I see they are safe, so there is little sense of gravity, but I can relate to emotions and so I am indeed laughing with them.

 

Most of the time anyway. Not long ago, I was climbing a fairly popular WA route. For the first few pitches my partner had been mentioning she needed to take a crap, but the belays were mostly hanging and there were no ledges on which to drop trou.

 

As I belayed my partner up the fifth pitch, she said "I just shit my pants." A simple non emotional statement of fact. I suppose she knew I'd figure it out anyway when she joined me at the tiny stance above.

 

I promised her there was a big ledge at the end off the next pitch.

 

The next pitch was a long one, involving a mantle on a small (2 by 2) ledge halfway up. Following, she pulled the mantle then the dialogue went as follows:

 

"Off belay!" she yelled up to me.

 

"What?!? Are you in a safe place?" I yelled back. "There's a good ledge up here if you can hold it!" I yelled down.

 

"I'm shitting now!" she yelled up, undoing her harness faster than Houdini.

 

"OK, you're off belay--Shit on!" I yelled down. I tried to avert my eyes from her lovely squatting form 80 feet below, but was not entirely sucessful. Seeing a young wheaten haired lassie free solo shitting on a ledge no bigger then her shadow 500 feet off the ground is just not a sight you see everyday.

 

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed in an almost orgasmic voice. The smell wafted up the cliff.

 

"Oh my god," I thought, cringing.

 

I strained against the creeping gods of hysteria.

 

"I'm doubled back and ready to climb," she said a couple minutes later.

 

"You on belay, poop on!" I yelled down, breaking into hysterical laughter, unable to contain myself anymore.

 

She took it the right way and arrived at the belay visibly relieved--if somewhat aromatic--and saddled up and finished off the climb in good form. Sorry to those who follow and pull the mantle move only to discover a technical turd traverse.

 

Case studies in experimental human psychology, eh?

 

So what kind of weird/funny/terrifying belayer/partner communications have you experienced or witnessed?

[JayB]

Remembering that you should have discussed how to communicate with a series of tugs on the rope after you discover it's way too noisy to communicate is always a good one.

 

BTW - I remember the "There's no Time!!!!!!!!!" line from a story that someone - I think it was danielpatricksmith - posted. From what I recall, the storyteller was near the summit of a fairly casual climb on a pleasant day, chilling out and eating at a spot just before the final pitch or two of fourth or low-fifth class climbing. Shortly thereafter a party of two arrives in full battle gear, sporting enough hardware for a new line on Baffin. It's like 11:00 in the morning and the descent is trivial. After they build an anchor and the leader heads out on and sets his first piece, his belayer takes a look at the gear he set and mentions that the placement is less than optimal, and suggests that the leader might want to reset it. At this point, in the morning, under the blue skies, on the low-fifth-at-most terrain the leader whips his head around, fixates on his second with a wild-eyed stare, and roars "THERE'S NO TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" as though the belayer has suggested that they pause for a game of risk while rapping down the face of GasherbrumIV in a class V storm.

 

Ever since then when Bronco and I have been out on a trip doing something hardcore like skinning up the road to the Colcuck trailhead ( ) and I stop to eat for a second I often hear "THERE'S.....NO......TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!,"

as does he when he stops to adjust a trekking pole or something. Good fun.

 

I am not sure how accurate my recollection of the story is, but that was one of the funnier climber/belayer tales I have ever heard.

 

 

"THERE'S ......NO........TIME!!!!!!!"

[hohm]

Thank you Uncle_Tricky, and take a bow, for regaling us with a story that made me laugh so hard that people started to look at me sideways...

[Ryan]

JayB, that's great.

 

We were climbing at Devils Tower about a year ago, and were on the standard "Durrance" route. Our party consisted of myself and two friends. Behind us were two other climbers. They were an odd couple- one of the climbers was phsyically fit, competant, and quiet. His partner, on the other hand, was a tad overweight (or maybe just big boned?), blatantly ignorant, and obnoxious. My partners and I had just finished the Durrance crack, the so called crux of the route, and were kicking back on the ledge while drinking some water and eating some food. The two climbers behind us were now on the Durrance crack, with the loud one on lead. From our perch on the ledge, we could watch him make progress up the 70 foot pitch. The obnoxious leader climbed to within five feet of our stance on the ledge, and was then faced with a crossover from the handcrack to a short section of offwidth to gain the ledge. At this point, he lost all mental and physical capacity. He looked down at his belayer and began to quiver...he then said something to the effect of "SHIT! I'M GOING TO FALL HERE! OH GOD, NO, NO, NOOO! I'LL DECK FOR SURE. ALL MY GEAR IS SHITTY! MY LAST PIECE IS THIRTY FEET BELOW ME! FUCK!"

At this point, I'm leading the next pitch...I glance down to watch the commotion, and observe that his last piece of protection is a mere two or three feet below his feet. Below that, I couldn't tell if he had been free or aid climbing- there was loads of gear in the crack, and all of it was good. I decided to postpone my lead to take in this spectacle, and my partners were watching now as well. The leader is still losing it, and his belayer, realizing that he is in no immediate danger, is simply standing on the ledge looking up at his hopeless partner with disdain. It's at this time that the leader comes up with the solution. "THROW ME A ROPE!" he screams at my partners. "DO YOU WANT TO SEE SOMEONE DIE TODAY? THROW ME A ROPE, PLEASE! I'LL RIP MY GEAR FOR SURE IF I FALL!" My partner flakes a section of rope down to the guy, and he grabs the rope with desparately focused determination. Hand over hand, he hauls himself up the remaining five feet of the pitch, and flops onto the ledge. He stands up, looks down the pitch, and then remarks "Eh, that's not such a bad pitch. Kind of slick, but no big deal." My partners give him a WTF? look, and I just laugh as I continue the lead.

[Lambone]

...that's why I carry a belay gun...it speaks a thousand words.

[JayB]

JayB, that's great.

 

We were climbing at Devils Tower about a year ago, and were on the standard "Durrance" route. Our party consisted of myself and two friends. Behind us were two other climbers. They were an odd couple- one of the climbers was phsyically fit, competant, and quiet. His partner, on the other hand, was a tad overweight (or maybe just big boned?), blatantly ignorant, and obnoxious. My partners and I had just finished the Durrance crack, the so called crux of the route, and were kicking back on the ledge while drinking some water and eating some food. The two climbers behind us were now on the Durrance crack, with the loud one on lead. From our perch on the ledge, we could watch him make progress up the 70 foot pitch. The obnoxious leader climbed to within five feet of our stance on the ledge, and was then faced with a crossover from the handcrack to a short section of offwidth to gain the ledge. At this point, he lost all mental and physical capacity. He looked down at his belayer and began to quiver...he then said something to the effect of "SHIT! I'M GOING TO FALL HERE! OH GOD, NO, NO, NOOO! I'LL DECK FOR SURE. ALL MY GEAR IS SHITTY! MY LAST PIECE IS THIRTY FEET BELOW ME! FUCK!"

At this point, I'm leading the next pitch...I glance down to watch the commotion, and observe that his last piece of protection is a mere two or three feet below his feet. Below that, I couldn't tell if he had been free or aid climbing- there was loads of gear in the crack, and all of it was good. I decided to postpone my lead to take in this spectacle, and my partners were watching now as well. The leader is still losing it, and his belayer, realizing that he is in no immediate danger, is simply standing on the ledge looking up at his hopeless partner with disdain. It's at this time that the leader comes up with the solution. "THROW ME A ROPE!" he screams at my partners. "DO YOU WANT TO SEE SOMEONE DIE TODAY? THROW ME A ROPE, PLEASE! I'LL RIP MY GEAR FOR SURE IF I FALL!" My partner flakes a section of rope down to the guy, and he grabs the rope with desparately focused determination. Hand over hand, he hauls himself up the remaining five feet of the pitch, and flops onto the ledge. He stands up, looks down the pitch, and then remarks "Eh, that's not such a bad pitch. Kind of slick, but no big deal." My partners give him a WTF? look, and I just laugh as I continue the lead.

 

 

Classic.

[Bronco]

One of my jackass partners and I were climbing a hard core mid fifth chossfest that had some simulflailing sections and he suggested our signal to take down the belay and simul would be to shout "I'm a little teapot!" There were a few other climbers who arrived at the base of the climb and looked a bit perplexed by our choice of climbing signals. Still cracks me up.

[Alpinfox]

"Climb yer sixty meters and SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

 

 

This is why newbies like to climb with me

[klenke]

My defecation imprecation story (good for the final pun):

So three of us are climbing the Upper Exum Route on the Grand. We're somewhere about halfway up crowded onto a belay platform. One of us was sitting sideways to the wall (wall on his left), I am sitting behind him in the same direction within arm's reach, and the third among us...well, when I look, he's on my right facing out from the wall, out into the nothingness of air. He's within arm's reach (I could put my hand on his shoulder if I wanted to). Between us are coils of flaked rope, my rope. His pants are down. I get a nice view of butt-crack...and, unfortunately, initially look over at him at the wrong time to witness brownies in the making.

 

He was damn near dropping coils on my coils!

 

"You're shitting on my rope!" I screamed.

"I'm not shitting on your rope," he retorted.

"Pretty damn close!" I said.

"Not even."

His feces were laying within four inches. If that aint close, I don't know what is.

 

What a shitty climbing partner! Last time I climbed with him.

[Dru]

A friend of mine was at Cultus Lake back in the early 90's when a chromed out Cadillac arrived at the beach towing a jet boat. Out of the car hop 2 large athletic black men described as looking like CFL players. These guys are dressed to the 9's and soon change into brand new wetsuits and beach attire. The jet boat is launched and a water ski attached. One guy stands on the beach with waterskis holding the tow-rope and the other guy jumps behind the boat wheel.

 

"ARE YOU READY SKI KING?"

"MAKE IT HAPPEN CAPTAIN!"

 

Engine gunned and the boat shoots off... skiier has forgotten to attach himself to his water skis, and is dragged off the skis and along on his stomach after the boat for 500 yards or so before boat pilot looks around and sees whats happening....

 

Anyways we used to use "Are you ready Ski King" and "Make it happen Captain" instead of On belay, off belay etc.

[PaulB]

While not a climber/belayer dialogue, Dru's story reminded me of something I witnessed in the Gunks many years ago.

 

We were hanging out near "Camp Slime", which is beside the road that divides the Trapps and the Near Trapps crags. We'd had a good day of climbing, and were enjoying some brews when we see a cadillac pull up across the road. Two big guys in suits get out and survey the surroundings. One exclaims, in a full Brooklyn accent, "This is fukin' beaudaful! Ain't this fukin' beaudaful? We godda get out of the city more."

 

His friend looks around and nods in agreement.

 

The first guy then says, "OK, let's talk about what happened this morning. Don't ever show people what's in da trunk! You got me? Never open da trunk! I don't care what they say....the trunk stays closed." The second guys looks a bit admonished/relieved and mumbles something apologetic.

 

"Good. Now ain't this fuckin' beaudaful? We should come up here more often"

 

By this point we're pretty sure we're looking at two full fledged memebrs of the mob, so we just keep drinking our beers and not drawing attention to ourselves. After a few minutes they get in the caddy and drive away, and we can't help but wonder... what's in the trunk?

 

For the rest of the trip, everytime we got to a belay with a nice view we'd say "Ain't this fukin' beaudaful?".

[DPS]

BTW - I remember the "There's no Time!!!!!!!!!" line from a story that someone - I think it was danielpatricksmith - posted. From what I recall, the storyteller was near the summit of a fairly casual climb on a pleasant day, chilling out and eating at a spot just before the final pitch or two of fourth or low-fifth class climbing. Shortly thereafter a party of two arrives in full battle gear, sporting enough hardware for a new line on Baffin. It's like 11:00 in the morning and the descent is trivial. After they build an anchor and the leader heads out on and sets his first piece, his belayer takes a look at the gear he set and mentions that the placement is less than optimal, and suggests that the leader might want to reset it. At this point, in the morning, under the blue skies, on the low-fifth-at-most terrain the leader whips his head around, fixates on his second with a wild-eyed stare, and roars "THERE'S NO TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" as though the belayer has suggested that they pause for a game of risk while rapping down the face of GasherbrumIV in a class V storm.

 

I am not sure how accurate my recollection of the story is, but that was one of the funnier climber/belayer tales I have ever heard.

 

 

"THERE'S ......NO........TIME!!!!!!!"

 

I wish I could remember if this happened to me because it sounds funny as hell.

[JayB]

One of my jackass partners and I were climbing a hard core mid fifth chossfest that had some simulflailing sections and he suggested our signal to take down the belay and simul would be to shout "I'm a little teapot!" There were a few other climbers who arrived at the base of the climb and looked a bit perplexed by our choice of climbing signals. Still cracks me up.

 

You obviously need to select your climbing partners much more carefully...

[octopuswithafez]

"Off belay!" she yelled up to me.

 

"What?!? Are you in a safe place?" I yelled back. "There's a good ledge up here if you can hold it!" I yelled down.

 

"I'm shitting now!" she yelled up, undoing her harness faster than Houdini.

 

"OK, you're off belay--Shit on!" I yelled down. I tried to avert my eyes from her lovely squatting form 80 feet below, but was not entirely sucessful. Seeing a young wheaten haired lassie free solo shitting on a ledge no bigger then her shadow 500 feet off the ground is just not a sight you see everyday.

 

 

Bump for the n00bs