I was the nightmare partner!

[rob]

Oh man, I always heard stories about meeting nightmare partners on cc.com, but I never figured I would be the nightmare partner.

 

I hooked up with a random guy from cc to do the north face of Chair peak yesterday. I was totally excited to do the climb; it had been on my list forever. When I saw his post in the partner's forum, I jumped on it. I figured the route was totally within my abilities, and my self-rescue skills were pretty solid, so there wouldn't be too much risk to doing the route with a partner sight-unseen. As long as he could belay, I was willing to lead the entire route if need be. I figured I'd bring doubles and some leaver slings and worse case, we could bail easy. I talked him into bringing a beacon.

 

We met up early in the parking lot of Albertsons. I had packed hastily for the trip, leaving most of my gear in a duffle. I quickly threw what I needed into my pack, stuffing everything else back into the duffle as we took off. I had the horrible feeling that I forgot something.

 

Partner stopped at the gas station for a donut. "I wish I hadn't forgotten my egg sandwhich," he remarked.

 

Sandwhich! Food! Oh No, I forgot all my food! "Oh no, turn back, I left my bag of food," I said as he got back in the car. No harm done, we were less than 100 meters from the car. Crisis averted. If I had only known what an awful portent this would prove to be.

 

We arrived at the Alpental parking lot to rain and a balmy 35 degrees. I was not feeling confident. The NWAC report I checked that morning mentioned increasing considerable danger on Friday night, with possibly increasing danger on Sat. I was particularly worried about descending sun-exposed east slopes. I mentioned my wariness, but we agreed to check it out.

 

After turning around to get the shovel and picket I forgot in the car, we set off towards Source Lake. Partner was very fit, and very quick, and I struggled to keep up. I realized shortly that I was getting out of shape, as I found myself running out of breath. "Damn!" I thought and vowed to get back into my regular training/climbing regime -- for real this time.

 

I was going through a bunch of crap in my life during the last month, and as a result had not been getting out much. Previously for the last year I had been getting out nearly every other weekend, and training nearly every weekday. But, an illness in December, followed by some challenging events in my life had combined to cause a general feeling of unfitness. I hadn't done any serious climbing in a month.

 

The snow was positively slushy. It collapsed under my snow shoes when sidehilling. I could see evidence of loose-snow avalanches all around me. And with a gloomy NWAC forecast in my mind, the warm temperatures, and rain/snow -- I was not optimistic.

 

Halfway up the slopes above source lake, I started hearing the avalanches coming down around me in the fog. I couldn't see them. "I'm not feeling good about this," I said.

 

"I know," he responded. After a short conversation (and more avalanching around us) I pulled the plug. "I want to bail."

 

I could see disappointment in his eyes. We didn't even dig a pit. We hiked out, and I was feeling bad, but confident in my decision. To his credit, he never once tried to talk me out of it. He was obviously disappointed, but polite.

 

"Let's just hike up Alpental and TR that ice flow left of Armstrong," Partner said. "Great idea," I thought to myself -- until when we got back to the car, and it was still raining. And I wasn't feeling a bond with Partner.

 

"Let's ditch the double ropes and bring my single," said Partner. "Good idea," I replied as we ditched gear in his car. I watched him pull his single rope to the top of the pile in the back of his trunk as I ditched my half of the double.

 

Again, he blew me away on the hike up. I finally reached him under the delaminating line of ice. It wasn't continuous. I wouldn't lead it. There seemed to be an easy ramp the the left of it, but it looked to be mostly thin rotten ice and snow over slab. We agreed that a TR was still the best option. Some icicles caused me concern, so I set off to build a belay above the fall line while he geared up to rig the TR. I wondered how he was going to get up there.

 

I watched in curiosity as he exploded his pack. After donning harness, slings, helmet, and some gear, I noticed with a distinct wave of nausea that he had no rope. I had no rope.

 

"Man, I think we have a problem."

 

He was not pleased. We walked back down to the car in silence, intersperesed occasionally with my apologies. It was an uncomfortable ride back. "I think the snow would have been OK," he said. "We should have at least dug a pit."

 

I stare out the window. "Yeah, we should have dug a pit," I thought.

 

Upon arriving home, I reflected that at least I was right about bailing. I checked the NWAC again to make myself feel better. That's when I noticed that the NWAC forecast had been downgraded to moderate sometime after I left in the morning.

 

I thought about him back at home, doing housework instead of climbing. Oh no! I was the awful partner!

[tvashtarkatena]

At least you didn't turn into a flesh eating zombie like you did on our last climb.

[wayne]

Hey, We all have been, Sorry

 

though ,thanks for sharing that, that was funny

[tvashtarkatena]

A partner and I went to climb Sajama (Bolivia's highest peak). Sajama is locating in the middle of the Atacama desert; a 10 hour washboard bus ride that involves getting out and helping the bus across rivers (the men push, the women pull on a rope attached to the front bumper). At that time, only 5 or 10 vehicles a day traveled this highway per day.

 

The bus dropped us off at a village at 15,000 ft with our two duffels full of six days worth of supplies. I promptly collapsed with a 103 degree fever. End of climb. We never took a single step towards the mountain.

 

So few vehicles pass that way that we agreed to take the first one going either direction. It was an empty 10 ton truck, bound for Chile. The border of Chile and Bolivia was semi hostile and highly militarized. The Chilean border guard, dressed very much like an SS officer, with green substituting for grey, examined the contents of our duffels in stern silence from behind a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses. Practically none of our week's worth of provisions: sausages, cheeses, etc, were allowed into Chile. He coughed. "Do you have a cold? I have some losenges for that." I offered in spanish. A smile broke across his face. "It's the damn altitude." he replied. Soon we were enjoying a pleasant picnic with him and his fellows on our confiscated foodstuffs, with several incredible volcanoes for a backdrop. Afterwards, our truck crept through a gauntlet of Chilean soldiers with their M16s trained on us from behind shallow earthworks and began the long, winding descent to the Pacific.

 

I spent 3 days recouperating on the Pacific coast before catching a LAN Chile flight with my partner back to La Paz.

[chucK]

We were a party of three. We had gotten up early, super early, mountie early, to get a jump on the crowds and tackle the Grand Wall.

 

Arrived at the base. We were in luck. No one on the wall. No monkeying around with Apron Strings. We scrambled up the bypass. We wanted to bag the route proper. We didn't want to get stuck behind the hordes.

 

As far as I remember, Merci Me went fine. I lead the traverse and short bolt ladder. I must have been slow because another party was catching. Their leader had asked to clip in at the belay atop Merci Me with P1 and P2. The request was refused.

 

Back at the base I had offered P1 the lead of the famous Split Pillar. At the time I thought I was being gracious. Now I was sorta happy, in a bad way, that I had deferred. That pitch was intimidating from below. Loomed straight up. Looked strenuous as hell.

 

Below the looming Pillar P1 also had second thoughts. We went through a Chip and Dale politeness battle.

 

"Perhaps you would prefer to lead this wonderful pitch after all."

 

"Oh no. I couldn't possibly. After all, I had promised it to you."

 

"Oh, I couldn't I would feel absolutely the cad, depriving you of this beauty. You must have it."

 

"Don't be ridiculous my fine fellow, I...."

 

We decided on a coin flip. I'm not sure who won or lost, but fate handed P1 the sharp end.

 

He asked if I'd like to do two out of three.

 

P1 did fine for about 60 feet. Then he got pumped where probably everyone does, and unfortunately went sailing for a 20 foot, headfirst whip.

 

I was not inexperienced, in this sort of thing. Thinking straight would have told me that when someone takes a 20 foot whipper because their hands melt off of a layback, they are NOT going to be revitalized with a short hang and shake out.

 

But the past experiences I was focusing on were those of taking over other people's leads. The lovely task of climbing while toproped by a single placed-while-pumped piece to get to the point where you can transition to the sharp end at the emprically determined crux (so far) of the pitch. I was resisting this duty, and P2 was sure as hell not going to volunteer. He had never wanted to be here in the first place. So we exhorted P1 to rest and give it another go.

 

All this time the Saturday morning Grand Wall conga line was compacting at various belay stations below. A couple on Merci Me, maybe one on Cruel Shoes, with followers. A very cold guy in shorts and t-shirt shivered next to us on the ledge, trying hard to be polite.

 

Well P1 obviously did not complete the climb and after another attempt (with much waiting for everyone below), I took over the lead and got the rope up there.

 

Now I needed to belay the others up. As we were at that point well aware of holding others up I put P1 and P2 both on belay with my ATC. P2 was cruising on up. P1, on the other hand, still not recovered from successive super-pumps ended up hanging again. The astute observer will note that with one climber hanging, an ATC will be locked. Unaware of this phenomenon, P2 had continued climbing until quite upset with the amount of slack in the rope. "Up rope" he called repeatedly, each iteration with increasing venom.

 

We eventually got all of us to the top of the Split. The plug was released. Climbers (more competent than us) were once more free to ascend. The circus was almost over. We had only to endure the indignity of rapping down through those that we had stalled. I'm glad they had no bottles or rotten fruit.

 

Oh no! We were the nightmare newbie plugs on the trade route!

[TREETOAD]

It is not so bad if you have a big fatty to spark up.

[G-spotter]

I've never been that kind of partner but I have been the "I'm asleep and spooning you and getting a woody" scary alpine bivi partner twice.

[Dechristo]

"THOSE AREN'T PILLOWS!"

[TREETOAD]

I've never been that kind of partner but I have been the "I'm asleep and spooning you and getting a woody" scary alpine bivi partner twice.

 

lets hook up!

[pink]

Rob, your getting punished for calling me a troll, just ask porter what happened when when he was a smart ass and he posted that picture of that crack at the college out door climbing wall.

Edited March 9, 2008 by pink

[snoboy]

The snow was positively slushy. It collapsed under my snow shoes when sidehilling. I could see evidence of loose-snow avalanches all around me. And with a gloomy NWAC forecast in my mind, the warm temperatures, and rain/snow -- I was not optimistic.

 

Halfway up the slopes above snow lake, I started hearing the avalanches coming down around me in the fog. I couldn't see them. "I'm not feeling good about this," I said.

 

"I know," he responded. After a short conversation (and more avalanching around us) I pulled the plug. "I want to bail."

 

I could see disappointment in his eyes. We didn't even dig a pit.

 

NO PIT NEEDED!

[minx]

its OK rob. we all suck sometimes.

[Bug]

I still do not return to Montana pre-announced.

[G-spotter]

its OK rob. we all suck sometimes.

 

i'm glad i've never been the partner who sucked at the bivi

[wayne]

Great stories lads!

Move this to the climbers board.

[archenemy]

Oh man, I always heard stories about meeting nightmare partners on cc.com, but I never figured I would be the nightmare partner.

 

I hooked up with a random guy from cc to do the north face of Chair peak yesterday. I was totally excited to do the climb; it had been on my list forever. When I saw his post in the partner's forum, I jumped on it. I figured the route was totally within my abilities, and my self-rescue skills were pretty solid, so there wouldn't be too much risk to doing the route with a partner sight-unseen. As long as he could belay, I was willing to lead the entire route if need be. I figured I'd bring doubles and some leaver slings and worse case, we could bail easy. I talked him into bringing a beacon.

 

We met up early in the parking lot of Albertsons. I had packed hastily for the trip, leaving most of my gear in a duffle. I quickly threw what I needed into my pack, stuffing everything else back into the duffle as we took off. I had the horrible feeling that I forgot something.

 

Partner stopped at the gas station for a donut. "I wish I hadn't forgotten my egg sandwhich," he remarked.

 

Sandwhich! Food! Oh No, I forgot all my food! "Oh no, turn back, I left my bag of food," I said as he got back in the car. No harm done, we were less than 100 meters from the car. Crisis averted. If I had only known what an awful portent this would prove to be.

 

We arrived at the Alpental parking lot to rain and a balmy 35 degrees. I was not feeling confident. The NWAC report I checked that morning mentioned increasing considerable danger on Friday night, with possibly increasing danger on Sat. I was particularly worried about descending sun-exposed east slopes. I mentioned my wariness, but we agreed to check it out.

 

After turning around to get the shovel and picket I forgot in the car, we set off towards Source Lake. Partner was very fit, and very quick, and I struggled to keep up. I realized shortly that I was getting out of shape, as I found myself running out of breath. "Damn!" I thought and vowed to get back into my regular training/climbing regime -- for real this time.

 

I was going through a bunch of crap in my life during the last month, and as a result had not been getting out much. Previously for the last year I had been getting out nearly every other weekend, and training nearly every weekday. But, an illness in December, followed by some challenging events in my life had combined to cause a general feeling of unfitness. I hadn't done any serious climbing in a month.

 

The snow was positively slushy. It collapsed under my snow shoes when sidehilling. I could see evidence of loose-snow avalanches all around me. And with a gloomy NWAC forecast in my mind, the warm temperatures, and rain/snow -- I was not optimistic.

 

Halfway up the slopes above source lake, I started hearing the avalanches coming down around me in the fog. I couldn't see them. "I'm not feeling good about this," I said.

 

"I know," he responded. After a short conversation (and more avalanching around us) I pulled the plug. "I want to bail."

 

I could see disappointment in his eyes. We didn't even dig a pit. We hiked out, and I was feeling bad, but confident in my decision. To his credit, he never once tried to talk me out of it. He was obviously disappointed, but polite.

 

"Let's just hike up Alpental and TR that ice flow left of Armstrong," Partner said. "Great idea," I thought to myself -- until when we got back to the car, and it was still raining. And I wasn't feeling a bond with Partner.

 

"Let's ditch the double ropes and bring my single," said Partner. "Good idea," I replied as we ditched gear in his car. I watched him pull his single rope to the top of the pile in the back of his trunk as I ditched my half of the double.

 

Again, he blew me away on the hike up. I finally reached him under the delaminating line of ice. It wasn't continuous. I wouldn't lead it. There seemed to be an easy ramp the the left of it, but it looked to be mostly thin rotten ice and snow over slab. We agreed that a TR was still the best option. Some icicles caused me concern, so I set off to build a belay above the fall line while he geared up to rig the TR. I wondered how he was going to get up there.

 

I watched in curiosity as he exploded his pack. After donning harness, slings, helmet, and some gear, I noticed with a distinct wave of nausea that he had no rope. I had no rope.

 

"Man, I think we have a problem."

 

He was not pleased. We walked back down to the car in silence, intersperesed occasionally with my apologies. It was an uncomfortable ride back. "I think the snow would have been OK," he said. "We should have at least dug a pit."

 

I stare out the window. "Yeah, we should have dug a pit," I thought.

 

Upon arriving home, I reflected that at least I was right about bailing. I checked the NWAC again to make myself feel better. That's when I noticed that the NWAC forecast had been downgraded to moderate sometime after I left in the morning.

 

I thought about him back at home, doing housework instead of climbing. Oh no! I was the awful partner!

What's a portent?

[rob]

an omen

[archenemy]

Great movie!

[Dechristo]

What's a portent?

 

One that possesses an inferior center pole.

[Bug]

So,...

Can one be "importent"?

[Bug]

"Not able to predict when I will get horny."

[rob]

you guys are making me anxious.

[Sherri]

Oh man, I always heard stories about meeting nightmare partners on cc.com, but I never figured I would be the nightmare partner.

 

I hooked up with a random guy from cc to do the north face of Chair peak yesterday. I was totally excited to do the climb; it had been on my list forever. When I saw his post in the partner's forum, I jumped on it. I figured the route was totally within my abilities, and my self-rescue skills were pretty solid, so there wouldn't be too much risk to doing the route with a partner sight-unseen. As long as he could belay, I was willing to lead the entire route if need be. I figured I'd bring doubles and some leaver slings and worse case, we could bail easy. I talked him into bringing a beacon.

 

We met up early in the parking lot of Albertsons. I had packed hastily for the trip, leaving most of my gear in a duffle. I quickly threw what I needed into my pack, stuffing everything else back into the duffle as we took off. I had the horrible feeling that I forgot something.

 

Partner stopped at the gas station for a donut. "I wish I hadn't forgotten my egg sandwhich," he remarked.

 

Sandwhich! Food! Oh No, I forgot all my food! "Oh no, turn back, I left my bag of food," I said as he got back in the car. No harm done, we were less than 100 meters from the car. Crisis averted. If I had only known what an awful portent this would prove to be.

 

We arrived at the Alpental parking lot to rain and a balmy 35 degrees. I was not feeling confident. The NWAC report I checked that morning mentioned increasing considerable danger on Friday night, with possibly increasing danger on Sat. I was particularly worried about descending sun-exposed east slopes. I mentioned my wariness, but we agreed to check it out.

 

After turning around to get the shovel and picket I forgot in the car, we set off towards Source Lake. Partner was very fit, and very quick, and I struggled to keep up. I realized shortly that I was getting out of shape, as I found myself running out of breath. "Damn!" I thought and vowed to get back into my regular training/climbing regime -- for real this time.

 

I was going through a bunch of crap in my life during the last month, and as a result had not been getting out much. Previously for the last year I had been getting out nearly every other weekend, and training nearly every weekday. But, an illness in December, followed by some challenging events in my life had combined to cause a general feeling of unfitness. I hadn't done any serious climbing in a month.

 

The snow was positively slushy. It collapsed under my snow shoes when sidehilling. I could see evidence of loose-snow avalanches all around me. And with a gloomy NWAC forecast in my mind, the warm temperatures, and rain/snow -- I was not optimistic.

 

Halfway up the slopes above source lake, I started hearing the avalanches coming down around me in the fog. I couldn't see them. "I'm not feeling good about this," I said.

 

"I know," he responded. After a short conversation (and more avalanching around us) I pulled the plug. "I want to bail."

 

I could see disappointment in his eyes. We didn't even dig a pit. We hiked out, and I was feeling bad, but confident in my decision. To his credit, he never once tried to talk me out of it. He was obviously disappointed, but polite.

 

"Let's just hike up Alpental and TR that ice flow left of Armstrong," Partner said. "Great idea," I thought to myself -- until when we got back to the car, and it was still raining. And I wasn't feeling a bond with Partner.

 

"Let's ditch the double ropes and bring my single," said Partner. "Good idea," I replied as we ditched gear in his car. I watched him pull his single rope to the top of the pile in the back of his trunk as I ditched my half of the double.

 

Again, he blew me away on the hike up. I finally reached him under the delaminating line of ice. It wasn't continuous. I wouldn't lead it. There seemed to be an easy ramp the the left of it, but it looked to be mostly thin rotten ice and snow over slab. We agreed that a TR was still the best option. Some icicles caused me concern, so I set off to build a belay above the fall line while he geared up to rig the TR. I wondered how he was going to get up there.

 

I watched in curiosity as he exploded his pack. After donning harness, slings, helmet, and some gear, I noticed with a distinct wave of nausea that he had no rope. I had no rope.

 

"Man, I think we have a problem."

 

He was not pleased. We walked back down to the car in silence, intersperesed occasionally with my apologies. It was an uncomfortable ride back. "I think the snow would have been OK," he said. "We should have at least dug a pit."

 

I stare out the window. "Yeah, we should have dug a pit," I thought.

 

Upon arriving home, I reflected that at least I was right about bailing. I checked the NWAC again to make myself feel better. That's when I noticed that the NWAC forecast had been downgraded to moderate sometime after I left in the morning.

 

I thought about him back at home, doing housework instead of climbing. Oh no! I was the awful partner!

 

My mom used to pack egg sandwiches for me when I was in elementary school. Always smelled like someone farted in my lunch bag. Who brings those on a climbing trip??

 

 

 

[hafilax]

If you bring ESS then all farts can be blamed on the sandwiches both before and after consumption. Win <-> Win

[archenemy]

Did you know that you can fart in a ziploc bag and put it in the freezer for later? No kidding! Nothing is more satisfying than telling your SO you made something special for them and pull out the baggie from the freezer. You pause dramatically and enjoy the confusion on their face. You get that face close to the bag, open, and enjoy!