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Pope's Confessional Is Now Open!


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i guess with all the good style that i exhibit in the mountains i do not need to confess to the good pope! though i will say that, once i did hold on to an ice screw while being hit with ice from above.

but as far as can-yuck bashing, i do have to admit that last week in my soocer game some yo with a can-yuck national jerzy meet the tacoma power elbow in the goalie box.

drul, too bad about your vacation. i guess that is the problem with that social system you yuckers believe in. i will try to have some extra fun for ya!

as far as climbing mtns and getting laid, he mountainous trash pile in your mommy's front yard don't count and humping your sister's dog "ted" don't count either.

i be up in squish this weekend. try and keep your boys away from me at the border. also drul if you see kai tell him i want to stay at his house.

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"Hello Canadian Immigration and Border Control? This is Dru. Look out for a she-male named Erika Snyder coming up from Washington this weekend. S/He will be smuggling endangered species in hir bra. Detainment and strip searching recommended."

If I go to Squishy this wkend we can hook up otherwise we might pass on the road if I go to Wash Pass this weekend!

 

"if you see Kai" you too! I get it!

[This message has been edited by Dru (edited 06-05-2001).]

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Donna,

Just like you to show up to confessional and start pointing fingers at everybody who's not guilty. Listen to me, little lady, my degree is in mathematics, not edjamukashun, but I do know that "moronic" can't possibly function as an adverb to describe how Pope behaves.

I must object to the way you're trying to transform my hallowed confessional into a gol-danged Jerry Springer show. Lynn Hill is not my woman, and having a poster (that's all it was...all that scrap-book and collage stuff is ridiculous) wouldn't have made an ordinary woman so jealous. I never would have kicked your can to the curb if you hadn't gone psycho on me. You're just another hotty who thinks she needs to run with a righteous alpine master before she amounts to anything in this world. Well let me tell you, your psychotic behviour has only convinced me to turn my back, 'cause you know what? I've seen demon-possessed crack whores who've got more dignity and self-respect than you! Babe, it's over. OVER! Go back to that brew house with all of those mountain rescue types and see if you can wreck any more homes.

[This message has been edited by pope (edited 06-05-2001).]

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Pope,

I'm only just now beginning to understand how lost I am. After several years of living this Chris Sharma fantasy, it's not so easy to change. As you advised me to do, I went out and top-roped a sport climb, Model Worker, and found that that first crux is more difficult on top-rope than it is to lead. And I had that thing pretty wired, to the point I thought I was made out of the stuff of a 5.11 leader. My girly friend keeps wanting to know when I'm going to "send" this route on top-rope...how am I going to explain I can't do it without the bolts?

And so, I've been back-pedaling. I went up to Prussik peak, as per your suggestion, intending to do the South Face, but I couldn't find any bolts up there....just some seasoned dude with dirty blonde hair free soloing this flaring chimney way off the deck. A gawker said this guy's name was "Rurp" or "Burp" or something like that, but I couldn't see how he was climbing these walls. My quick-draws simply wouldn't attach to the cracks, and after ten feet I realized I had nothing to hang from so I could flip back my disgruntled-youth hair and mime the next few moves.

Since my girly friend was absent, I knew this climb was out of my league. I did the only thing I knew how, the thing that always puts a smile on my face when confronted with these kinds of challenges: I drove out to Frenchman's Coulee and found 12 square feet of bolt-free rock...right, you don't find that every day. But, I corrected the situation and I'm proud to say that on my new project, even a short guy can clip the first bolt from a sitting start. I don't believe in making spooky routes to inflate my ego, didn't you know.

By the way, I don't understand why anybody should feel guilty for grabbing their partner's lycra-clad butt at a belay. It's my understanding that this gesture is a sort of sport climber's end-zone celebration, and I can't think of a single partner who's had a problem with it. Sometimes it seems a little silly...we can get carried away and forget why we're up on that wall in the first place.

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Donna, Donna, Donna, why so angry? You sound like a spurned woman, please do yourself a favor and beg Pope to come back to you before it is too late. He may yet forgive you. He might even take you climbing if you are extra nice.

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Okay, I admit it, I spent my college days in E-burg at good 'ol Central, and I never once went to the Icicle, or Frenchman's, or Peshastin, or the Stuart Range or the Enchantments. I had no idea all that stuff was out there within a short drive, I was lost in the lair of the muscleheads. That's right, spent most of my time at Han's Gym. But I have since come to the light and taken up the grander sport of climbing and visited all of those places. Whew, I feel better now.

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Hey Jack Assidy,

I'm not so sure there's a lot of hope for you. Know what I think? I think you're too worried about your image, that's what I think. All that sequence miming and disgruntled-hair flipping...it's getting in the way of your rehabilitation. Sure drilling yet another bolt into that sewer pipe named Frenchie's Coulee makes you feel better, because for you the act of drilling has become synonymous with climbing. You're one of these lads who thought it would be cool to walk around and be recognized as a climber, but you really don't like climbing that much. You're like one of these guys who doesn't like the effort that necessarily precedes the sense of accomplishment climbing may bring, and so you look for some short-cut to recognition. Sure, it's just like some guys I know in mountain rescue: for a minimal commitment, they get to walk around with a nifty rescue patch on their rain slicker, and they get a mountain rescue bumper sticker, when in fact, some of those guys are no more capable of rescuing your ass than the guys hanging on ropes in a Marlboro add.

Again, my advice is to get a new role model. Like that Rurp fellow you ran into. When I was starting out, he was a tremendous inspiration to me because of his acute mountaineering skills and because of the way he avoided recognition. You never hear much about the guy, but ask anybody in the know, and they'll tell you: Rurp is like a Pete Doorish, making mountaineering merriment behind the scenes and doing it because it's challenging and because it's fun. Not for girls, not for a phototgrapher, not for some dubious distinction among the climbing "community".

Go out to some boulder and try the most challenging route you can imagine...without an audience. Pull your car over on the side of the highway and scramble up the tallest peak you can find, just for the challenge, for the struggle, for the view. Put away your Gri-Gri and with just a rope and a few slings, climb an excellent route on Mt Stuart. It'll change your life.

 

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BIGGEST CONFESSION OF ALL!!!!Dudes! I feel soooooooooooooo guilty! You know, at "the Comps"?, I was, like, hangin' out in ISO waiting for my event, headphones on listening to Green Day and others of a phat and rad kind. Doin' a little yoga in my Verve pants. Doin' a little sequence miming while sportin' a beret like the one Monica L. used to wear (workin' on my individuality) and admiring my new tattoo featuring the words "Clip 'n Go!!!" in a bold font, along with a biner and draw. And wondering if I should take the bone out of my nose. I had a banana and some yogurt (LOW FAT, guys!) for lunch the day before and half a bagel without butter OR cream cheese that night along with some dried brocolli chips. And then for breakfast, I had two tablespoons of low fat cottage cheese and an apple slice. O.K., here comes the confession....oh I feel so bad....O.K., just a second.....alright, I've got the courage (think "courage", Dwayner, THINK "COURAGE"!!!) Alright this is the scene. I was there in ISO...and it was a fellow competitor's birthday (initials might just possible be C.S., or was it K.B.?) Here it is..........I HAD A SLICE OF CHOCOLATE CAKE!!!!!

Oh my! Did I just say that????

Gosh! I feel much better now!

 

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Oh, Forgive me Father for I have sinned...Many years ago, when at Icicle Creek Canyon at places such as Barney's Rubble, I was led to temptation to disgrace myself by "australian style" rapelling. Top rope firmly in place in the hangers that could hold a mack truck, I would deftly set myself. Await the inevitable passing, and gawking car-load of people, and then I would begin my descent. Stop half way and pose...oh Father, what have I done...

Also...I have been inappropriately touching myself for well over 15 years now...Am I a bad person...

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Bless me Poope, for I have done a bummer...

I bought Rope Gun shorts at the REI sale. I'm going to take them back though and use the store credit to buy a #20 LA to carry between my butt cheeks to remind me that I am a sinner.

Also, I told my wife that I've been suffering 50' runouts b/c I don't have a full set of tri-cams. I convinced her to let me spend the grocery budjet on them. Oh yeah, I painted the tips of my fingers and toes black on the way back from climbing and told her...

What do I do. I am bad...

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BACKCOUNTRY: What sort of circus you want to stage at Barney's Rubble is completely your business. I would assume that you engaged in such activity after a six-pack, as a stunt to shock and impress the nubiles. If it worked, you have my blessing. Once, in Leavenworth's Baren Haus, I faked a glaucomatous eye by concealing a coffee creamer under tremendous pressure in my fist, and while holding it to my eye, stabbing it with a fork. The ensuing mess caused my female Norwegian friends to scream so loudly that every diner within 25 feet turned in horror. The girls weren't too impressed with that one, but I did end up with a nice hand-made sweater.

ZENOLITH: I'd be more impressed if you had purchased a tube-chock for your penance, but I suspect you learned your lesson 'bout trendy pants.

DWAYNER: That sounds like a Christian G. story I once read. In case C.G. is a candidate to be your latest role model, I must advise you against becoming a disciple. I happen to know what you look like in shorts. I beseech you, therefore brother, to resist the temptation of posing for a studio-quality black-and-white photo whilst shaving your legs in the tub.

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I agree with pope about shaving your legs, arms, back, palms whatever in the tub, the hair plugs up the drain. Better to do it outside on the lawn where the little birds can pick it up after you are done and make nests out of it, or if you shave off your dreadlocks you can auction them off like Ben Moon did!!

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Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned, in many ways. This is a combined confession and a question, so bear with me...

Last summer I found myself in Leavenworth with a few hours to kill, my girlfriend, and a sport rack. Using Smoot's "Rock Climbing in Washington" (Sin #1) I decided to go for Overachiever (5.8), including the "approach" pitch (I forget the name) 5.6 sandy slab below. The short story is that I led it without gear, but had to aid past the "5.6" crux (yarding on the quickdraw; Sin #2). Then at the next pitch I got a decent way up the flakes toward the first bolt (which is at 40'?) and decided I'd had enough and retreated (Sin #3).

Then a few weeks ago I decided to bring the rack this time and try again. On the 5.6 pitch, I only placed one hex below the bolt but then was stymied again getting past it. I had just led Groping for Oprah's Navel an hour or so before without problems, but I was stuck here again. So I finally went way left and found a knob to gain some mungy creases and a weak alien placement, then to the top. This felt like solid 5.8, and I'm sure I was off route (Sin #4). Finally, after passing the flakes of Overachiever and reaching the first bolt, I skipped it, because I didn't trust the flaring nut placements and the little tree I'd slung below and was intimidated by the remaining 5.8+ face climbing required to reach the first bolt (Sin #5). Instead, I went up some sandy pockets to the left, then scooted over and clipped the second bolt, to end the runout.

Is there any hope for redemption, pope? Also, what's up with that 5.6 pitch? Can I ever hope to send it?

I await my penance...

mmcmurra

[This message has been edited by mmcmurra (edited 06-13-2001).]

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You mean "BS"? They should have named that thing "Dune" - I kept waiting for the giant sandworm to attack while I was climbing that (and that was a few years ago when it was cleaner...?). There's more sand on that pitch than there is at the whole of Peshastin. What gives??

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I must confess that I'm unfamiliar with this 5.6 route, and consequently I can only speculate. Back in the day, climbs followed the weakest line in a given area of a cliff, so there was no skirting around to drop in for a clip. The crux, back in those days, was by far the easiest way up, relative to the surrounding rock.

I wouldn't blame myself too much if I were in your shoes. Again, I'm just speculating, but it sounds like some bolt-happy clip-monkey shoved some bolts into crappy rock, and didn't know how to rate the crux, etc. If I'm wrong, or if the F.A. was done by some big bruiser like Dwayner, then I stand to get my ass kicked. Yet I've seen a lot of this kind of thing, ever since drilling bolts on rappel became an acceptable way of establishing new climbs. Since any fool can put in a route like that, you're going to see a bunch of crappy routes on substandard rock, with very unrealistic ratings for difficulty and quality, and there's an excellent chance that in L-Worth, the route will come highly recommended by a certain authority. But again, I'm not familiar with this route.

Chances are, YOU WERE MORE VICTIM THAN VILLAIN.

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That's the name, BS! Now it's all beginning to make sense... 5.6? Bullshit! Seriously, though: what did you think of the rating, Dru? I usually don't worry too much about numbers, only when I have to cheat off the bolt to get by! It certainly does get a high score on the sand index; that's the only route I've ever done where I had to unearth the belay bolts -- I'm still only assuming they're actually into rock somewhere underneath all that sand. Maybe Viktor could be of some assistance here...

quote:

Originally posted by Dru:

You mean "BS"? They should have named that thing "Dune" - I kept waiting for the giant sandworm to attack while I was climbing that (and that was a few years ago when it was cleaner...?). There's more sand on that pitch than there is at the whole of Peshastin. What gives??

P.S. Pope, I checked Viktor's guidebook the other day and it shows the route going up the slab right past the bolt, so I don't think it's a case of a bolt placed on rappel that is a little off route, "route" being the path of least resistance. It's also a pretty old bolt, placed at what would have been a very good stance to place on lead.

[This message has been edited by mmcmurra (edited 06-14-2001).]

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I thought it was 5.6-5.7 ish when I did it, it was about 7 years ago and I was a 5.9 climber (barely) at the time . I thought Underachiever was pretty easy for 5.8 too.

Maybe a hold has fallen off or something? Or a crack has filled in with sand?

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Pope, I must confess. Just 2 mornings ago I was waking up in camp 4. Now Im back here reading this crap. I feel horrible, I was climbing pitch after ultra classic pitch in the warm sun. When I should I have been here in the rain, in front of the computer, engaging in mindless psychobabble.....Im sooooo sorry!

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CHARLIE: So how is your little CURRY VILLAGE SWEETY? Hemlock gave me a rather detailed description of her...uh, dimension, and I must say that such evaluations were conspicuously absent from your previous discussions. Based on Hemlock's account, I can understand why you didn't pursue a bivouac with her...what if she rolled over in the night? The prospect makes the Hollow Flake look relatively inviting, and infinitely less dangerous.

Anyway, glad to hear you had a safe and rewarding trip. Hemlock and I had a little adventure...he'll tell you about it. BTW, know where he is today?

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