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wayne

Beacon Rock Stories

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We all have stories, but for some reason Beacon draws out some great ones. I started writing a few on another thread and I thought it should have its own thread. I will write a few more later but I would like to hear some of yours, Wayne

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Bob and I were scrubbing a new rout above tree ledge in the hot sun. I had left a piece of shrimp pizza out in the sun. I thought it had gone bad, so I chucked it. After we each led the route we rapped and this angry guy came up to us with a red triangle on his shoulder.

  • LMAO 1

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Bob and I were leaving Beacon and we went by this police shooting range a mile down the road. Bob pulled over and absolutely demanded that I throw their "Police in Training" sign in the back of his truck. Reluctantly I did and we peeled back towards Beacon. Crazy Bob was going to bolt it to the rock as we were in a bolting controversy at the time. He would have done it unless the SWAT team van pulled us over in full Rambo fashion.

Oh, I got Beacon stories..

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After rapping the first 2 pitches of Pacific Rim. I walked up into the cave to do a king swing. I did a tame one to start It went way the hell out!Very freaky. Tim got Psyched watching me and went all the way up into the cave for a major launch. I am sure there was no way he thought he would have collided with the tree 100 feet or more out there. It was amazing watching him try to flail a different course once he realized he was going to do some branch trimming. > he came back bloody and pissed at me for laughing so hard.

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Guess I will just keep this rolling,

Jim and Ron and I were getting ready to do Flying Dutchman, when that old sound of falling rocks made us duck and cover. Not really anywhere to go we just got lucky the trundle effort did hit any of us as it came down right above us. It was mid week and off season so it was weird feeling. I thought they might do it a gain, so I suggested we move down the cliff. We went down to Free-for-some and got set up again only to have another even bigger volley head down towards us. I was so pissed I dropped every thing and ran towards the parking lot to try to find the bastards and f them up. I was salivating when I found only one other car there. It had a time card from the Camas bakery. I took note of the address, and boogied up the trail. They must have been on to us with our screaming and they split down the Beaver Pond trail with me in hot pursuit. I sent Jim up the Beacon Trail just to be sure. They must have bushwacked to the highway and ran back to their car. that cleverness saved their butts.. I still buzzed the now closed bakery looking for blood.

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ok - so, my first trip to beacon, i went w/ sketchy todd (don't worry if you're reading out there, todd, i mean your moniker w/ much love) - he said he'd been to beacon b4 and i was fresh off the plane having just moved west - from the p-lot, the first thing i see is the north side of the rock, all dank and dark and shitacular - "dude, is THAT it? i thought this place was dope?" "yeah, that's it, let's go get it" - after he flailed on the first pitch of nasty mank, i took over and got us a rope length off the ground, climbing past his high-point, pasted in blood - the next pitch was even worse, and after watching him agonize over it, i didn't even offer to try to do it - carpets of 12 inch deep moss over smooth slabs w/ nothing but blank looking wall above - wtf? - so we rapped, basically strait down to the water-pump. he went first, and called "off" at a slight ledge w/ nothign but an old pin, only half beaten in to rap off next. i had done very little alpine at this point, and it looked stupid-sketch to rap on just that tiny piece of shit, but before i knew it or had the sense to think of trying to back it up, todd was off. as i watched, the pin his whole life was depending on slowly bent in half. i screamed "you're gonna fucking die!!!" and envisoned a night of watching the road and shivering, staring at his corpse. he managed to live though, and i miracled in a whole constellation of back-up nuts and got down to the ground safely wondering "what in the plu-perfect fuck is this place all about?!?" little did i know i had one more epic climb w/ sketchy-todd to go!

 

now that was my intro to the big B

Edited by ivan

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i'd tell mine but i don't want shit on your thread. i'll stick to the beacon stories. in the middle of something more fun. bring it wayne.

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my second trip mighta been the first time i met pink - so, it turns out, todd remembered he had actually been to beacon before - so we decide to go do the se corner (i'd bought olson's guide in the meantime). i lead the first pitch. todd get's the fun slab pitch. an hour into his first lead, i can't see him, but he's not moving. a dude comes soloing up and over. mildly freaked, i nod and say who know's what - i'd never seen someone engaging in such tomfoolerly before, and it seemed an awfully scarey place for it. anyhow, 40 minutes later, todd still hasn't moved more than a few feet, evening's ending, and i'm definelty concerned, but every time i shriek up at him, i get no response. "jesus christ, why did i have to quit smoking cigarettes?" i idly wonder. then, out of nowhere, the SAME mysterious soloist comes up from the bottom againg. "WTF?" i ask him "what in the hell is going on w/ my boy up there?" "man, i don't know, he looks like maybe he's not having such a good time."

 

we rapped off from grassy ledges that night in the dark.

 

and that was, i think, the last time i climbed w/ sketchy todd at beacon :)

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my second trip mighta been the first time i met pink - so, it turns out, todd remembered he had actually been to beacon before - so we decide to go do the se corner (i'd bought olson's guide in the meantime). i lead the first pitch. todd get's the fun slab pitch. an hour into his first lead, i can't see him, but he's not moving. a dude comes soloing up and over. mildly freaked, i nod and say who know's what - i'd never seen someone engaging in such tomfoolerly before, and it seemed an awfully scarey place for it. anyhow, 40 minutes later, todd still hasn't moved more than a few feet, evening's ending, and i'm definelty concerned, but every time i shriek up at him, i get no response. "jesus christ, why did i have to quit smoking cigarettes?" i idly wonder. then, out of nowhere, the SAME mysterious soloist comes up from the bottom againg. "WTF?" i ask him "what in the hell is going on w/ my boy up there?" "man, i don't know, he looks like maybe he's not having such a good time."

 

we rapped off from grassy ledges that night in the dark.

 

and that was, i think, the last time i climbed w/ sketchy todd at beacon :)

the post-script is of-course that i fell in love w/ the idea of soloing that route that night, and for years now i've enjoyed being that mysterious stranger, dozens of times passing newbies cluster-fucking their way up the same classic pitch. i'm like a fucking buddhist or something!? :P

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these are hilarious! I'm just sad that Ivan only climbed w/ sketchy todd twice. seems like there might have been more story potential there.

 

and let's hear the el cap stories too, why not?

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the post-script is of-course that i fell in love w/ the idea of soloing that route that night, and for years now i've enjoyed being that mysterious stranger, dozens of times passing newbies cluster-fucking their way up the same classic pitch. i'm like a fucking buddhist or something!? :P

 

yeah, I remember when you & Oleg(?) and I were climbing out there and I was going for the worlds slowest lead of pitch 1, when you, impatient to climb, soloed past me. I was more worried of accidentally knocking you off than falling myself, Gautama.

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yeah, I remember when you & Oleg(?) and I were climbing out there and I was going for the worlds slowest lead of pitch 1, when you, impatient to climb, soloed past me. I was more worried of accidentally knocking you off than falling myself, Gautama.

how about this past spring when you, me n' ken went to do dod's - i did that big single pitch to the perch, where you aided the crux. ken and i had a sweet safety meeting, at the conclusion of which you skillfully talked me out of using my belay device, which i actually understand how to use, and instead gave me your gri-gri, which even under the sober-ist of conditions i'm too stupid to operate. "so, i like, don't have to hold the rope or anythign then?" i said. an hour and a half pack of cigarettes later, you decided to start freeing the last bit, whereupon my grey matter totally failed and i couldn't feed more than a foot of slack a minute to you, ken howling w/ laugher and berating me the whole time - folks, dan's gotta be the sweetest guy alive - i don't think he called me a mother-fucker even once as i tried to drag him back down to his doom :P

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yeah, my free climbing skills, such as they are, were put to the test... there might have been some muttered imprecations (inaudible to you two down below), though, to be honest.

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[

the post-script is of-course that i fell in love w/ the idea of soloing that route that night, and for years now i've enjoyed being that mysterious stranger, dozens of times passing newbies cluster-fucking their way up the same classic pitch. i'm like a fucking buddhist or something!? :P Yeah, thats where I met Ivan last summer... He comes cruising by while Ken & I were doing the corner. First day I climbed w/Ken too... Keep em coming...

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Dennis Hemminger repeatedly told the story of when he was leading Dods and fell while his belayer was rolling a smoke. He didnt come out of that one real well.

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Wayne…..what a great idea.

 

Aiding Blownout:

 

 

Arent and I had only been climbing for about one year…..but by that time we both were leading (on a good day) 10.a.

 

It was January, just before the closing about 10 years ago. We decided (on the couch) to go and aid Blownout. It was the middle of winter and raining like cats and dogs. We stopped at that little shop on the way ate breakfast. I have not eaten there since. Greasy spoon.

 

Arent started climbing at noon (mind you it gets dark around 4:30-4:45 in January). Arent was in his tennis shoes and was trying to free as much as possible. We did not know about the direct start at that time. So we just kind of went straight up. Arent took a couple of lead falls while aiding. I just stood there in the cold and rain. It took Arent about 3 hours to get to the anchor. And that time there where no bolts for anchors. He made a bomber anchor in the crack and I started to jug. This was my first time jugging and it took a while.

 

I finally got to the anchor, switched racks and I headed up the perfect splitter above. At this point in my climbing I had aided a couple of times but I was by no means good at it.

 

The fun came when I was about 20 feet up. It was pitch black out. Totally dark. I was using my head lamp to look up into the crack to see what size I needed, then using my hand to reposition my lamp back on my rack to see what size to grab. Oh yeah. Did I mention it was raining? This went on and on and on. I kept back cleaning gear thinking I would need it higher. I placed a lot of nuts. I finished the pitch in about 1 ½ hours. I toped out on the ledge on top (remember there was no anchor at this time) and was completely out of slings. I walked back and placed one orange Metolius and a number 3 Camalot way to the left around the corner and used the rope and my aiders as an anchor material.

 

Communication with Arent was almost impossible. He finally got the hint that he could start jugging. As soon as he weighted the rope all the nuts and cams I placed shot straight out and got stuck. It took him about 2 hours to clean the pitch without leaving gear.

 

I on the other hand was totally wet and cold on the ledge above. I did jumping jacks for a hour to keep warm. I froze my butt off.

 

Arent finally arrived and we broke the anchor and split up and right for the rap line on Jills. Well and at time they had not invented dual colored ropes so it took a little longer to find the middle and we were both soaked and cold and our minds were not working well. It was about 8 o clock by this point. On the first rapell. Arent’s headlamp went out. WILL IT EVER END……I was thinking. We finally reached the ground soaking wet. Our ropes where soaking wet. We hiked out with one head lamp and got back to the car at 9 pm.

 

Arent missed a family gathering he was supposed to be at around 6 pm.

 

It took 9 hours to go car to car, we thought it would take 3 to 4. Oh how we were so wrong.

 

This is just one crazy adventure I have had with the tall Dutch boy…….

 

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Dennis Hemminger repeatedly told the story of when he was leading Dods and fell while his belayer was rolling a smoke. He didnt come out of that one real well.

i fell once at the crux on dods on a long lead starting from down below the off-widthy section - anyway, w/ rope stretch and the run-out i'd built up by trying to lie back the crux i ended up getting caught in the upper branches of that brushy tree before the rope even went tight!

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