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AllYouCanEat

Sufferfest

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One more: I had just finished a long section of whitewater. This was my first time on the upper, upper cispus and I was having a blast, except for the fact that there was a mandatory 30ft falls downstream. I was the first one to climb onto the ledge and get a look. It was all that I had expected. I was excited and scared. Just then the last boater gets out and the boats start to tumble. Two hit the drink and only one is caught. Meanwhile mine takes a solo run over the falls. There is no way for me to climb out. My only option is to swim. With a huge hole (or keeper) and a quarter mile of class V below me, I was not looking forward to the swim. This moment sticks out as a pretty shitty one in my book.

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Man that sounds heinous. It seems that the most nerve wracking moments can often be when immediate action isn't neccessary, but when your doom slowely sets in.

Like being stuck at a bivy on an exposed ridge, and weather starts moving in.

Two recent pitches like this for me were pitch 2 on the christian brothers traverse, and pitch 2 on the turkey monster. While not that serious, or nearly as bad as what you mention sufferfest, they did make me think seriously about "what the fuck am I doing here." hahaha.gifthumbs_up.gifrockband.gif

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Every time I am on the site I ask myself "what the fuck and I doing here?"

 

I ask myself those two questions everyday.

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...my co-workers are getting suspicious.

I love being humiliated in front of an audience.

Remember, you can't run when cuffed to the bed!

 

Interesting job you have there.

 

Esspecially, in light of the context of the thread "Sufferfest".

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i spent tuesday on the beach near punta gorda down here in baja helping a captain hold his emotions intact while his ride got pounded on the rocks. it aint everyday a guy watches a 1/2 million dollar sportfisher get fukin trashed. btw i had nothing to o with the fukups that put it onto the hard. really.

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Short but tweet. Like a bird.

When I was 19 I went to "the Valley" for the first time. I hadn't been climbing long enough to know much but long enough to think I did. And in those days I still had several functioning brain cells.

Somehow I hooked up with the Texas Kid who was hot to climb but prone to lassooing things. Anyway, we went up the first half of Royal Arches and veered right to get to a nice splitter off a sandy ledge. We were all tied in and everything was ready for a major fall. I went up the first part quickly and ran out of big pro about 30 feet off the ledge. Looking up, I saw a fixed hex maybe 35 feet up. Looking down, I realized I would deck if I fucjed up. Naturally, I went for it. The crack widened and flared a bit near the top but I made it up there easily and was reaching for a sling when for no explainable reason, I popped off. I quickly flipped over and got my feet under me and realized I was about to die. The Valley floor was 800 feet below but the trees increased in size rather rapidly. I slammed into a sloping part of the wall after about 30 feet and that slammed my arms against the wall. Both forearms were left skinless for a two by eight inch swath.

But the real pain was approaching fast. Realizing I was heading for a bush, I layed out flat so it would break my fall. It was then that my mind latched onto a memory of a story about a sailor who fell off the rigging and went limp "like a sack of potatoes" when he hit. I did the same. Now you might think it makes sense at first but you have to realize that in the last three seconds I have just fallen 60 feet, lost skin, and visualized my tibia protruding out the top of my big fat skull. The intensity of the effort to go limp forced me out of my body from where I watched my body fall through the bush. I came back together four feet in the air at the top of a bounce that was taking me over the edge of the 800 foot drop. I reached up and grabbed the rope with both hands and yanked. This blistered all eight fingers but stopped my progress toward the abyss. I swung into the ledge but was too dazed to get both feet in front of me which is how I got the gash on my knee. As I hand over handed up onto the ledge a couple feet, I noticed my glasses at the edge and put them on. Then I looked at my belayer, "The Texas Kid". He was white as a sheet sitting about two feet from my crater still holding my belay. I layed down and treated myself for shock and took inventory of the many diverging sensations of various realities as this one came back into view. Nothing seemed particularly damaged. My knee was barely bleeding. My arms were only oozing. And my fingers were very minor. I was mostly worried about internal damage and was trying to figure out if I was in pain or not. After a few minutes we pulled the rope and rapped off. I retrieved my gear the next day. It took about a month for the arms to fully heal but the self inflicted hydrogen peroxide treatments were cheap entertainment around boystown. I think I may have been one of the first people in the world to buy a 4 friend.

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....and went limp "like a sack of potatoes" when he hit. I did the same....

JFC! shocked.gifhellno3d.gif

 

bigdrink.gif

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Cool story...but I kept thinking the Cowboy dude was going to rope something. Sounds like a hell of a fall.

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Belaying IVAN directly off my harness from above. My kidneys have permanent dents in them

in a similiar vein, belaying joshk with the rope running over my leg when he decides to go over to simply jugging the line - incapable of getting the line off my leg nearly my entire lower body goes to sleep - months later i can still barely feel my pee-pee HCL.gif

 

Guye Peak wazzup.gif I think he was ascending at about a foot per minute... for 20-30 feet.

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OK, I'll take the bait and instead of lurking, I'll bring this to the top.

 

When I was the ripe old age of 17, I decided to take a solo trip to the Enchantments, starting at Snow Lake, exiting at Colchuck, resupplying from a cache then heading to windy pass. It was June right after school let out, midweek and nobody else was anywhere to be seen (this was 1979). The weather was mixed with lots of low cloud. I cruised up to the upper enchantments, got disoriented and ended up spending the night on the side of Little Annapurna. Got up the next morning to head down Aasgard Pass. Found the pass and it looked like a cool glissade, with a nice track already set by earlier parties. So I started down. Fast. I quickly learned that rubberized canvass raingear is very slick on steep snow. I also found out that my heavy REI cruiser pack with the frame extensions was getting snagged in the glissade track. I was careening down the slope at what seemed about 50mpg, then started cartwheeling. When I finally stopped cartwheeling and resumed sliding, I realized that: (1) my ice axe was stuck all the way through my arm, and (2) the rocks at the base of the pass were rapidly approaching. I pulled the ice axe out of my arm, self arrested, then sat in the snow looking at the hole in my arm. I missed arteries, but had about a 1" wide hole in my arm where the end of the axe went in, bounced off the bone, and exited the other side. I remember thinking how cool subcutaneous fat looked at it started to fill in the hole. Then I realized that I was alone, had to hike out, had no car at the trailhead and not a whole lost of prospect of meeting anyone else near the trailhead. I walked out and amazingly, met a couple from Seattle out for an afternoon walk near the trailhead. They gave me a ride to the Leavenworth clinic then gave me a ride back to Seattle.rockband.gif

 

After that my parents made me take the North Cascades Alpine Institute climbing course (with Andy Selters, no less).

 

More close calls in the early 80s on Rainier and NF Shuksan, but my early adventures left the biggest scar...

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