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Biggest surprise on a route???


RuMR

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The most shocking thing was when my girlfriend started yelling at me that she wanted to 'go down' while I was in the middle of a lead. After yelling angrily that there was no way I was going to downclimb the crux, I traversed off to the side so I could see the ledge she was on. It was then that I realized she was crying, and had peed all over herself on the ledge. We finished the climb, but all the fun had gone out of the day.

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Mantling out of my aiders onto Anchorage Ledge on Mescalito, feeling the onset of the calming, decompressive flow that comes with the conclusion of a long lead...:yoda:...with effort I rose to my feet...to find myself face to face with Korean porn that had been taped to the wall next to the anchor by the Korean team a half dozen pitches above us. All their bivi sites from there on were similarly adorned.

 

The only downer was it was the kind with the strategically placed black dot. :anger:

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The most shocking thing was when my girlfriend started yelling at me that she wanted to 'go down' while I was in the middle of a lead. After yelling angrily that there was no way I was going to downclimb the crux, I traversed off to the side so I could see the ledge she was on. It was then that I realized she was crying, and had peed all over herself on the ledge. We finished the climb, but all the fun had gone out of the day.

 

plus that put a damper on you going down later on :)

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*Leading a new route at Elgin Wall @31-32 years ago, (1976) rattlesnake rattled right in the face as my face cleared a ledge. Dropped down and downclimbed.

 

*New route at Rocky Butte, was top rope soloing up to pull a loose rock I'd missed on rap off, it came off easy enough, and I'd stepped up to a stance and was standing there looking up and around, feeling like the movement was so good of a feeling that I should just finish to the top, when I hear a hissing right to the left of my crotch. A bat had been under that flake and it was ANGRY! I almost pissed on myself.

 

* I had considered doing what appeared to be a perfect line, ground up, couple months back. Instead, I cautiously rapped and tossed rock on the line just to the East of it. After I cleaned and led that one, went up and traversed over to my original route which I'd passed on, and after a short bit of shoveling work, exposed a boulder which my earlier perception from below had caused me to believe was part of the wall, but was in fact a detached boulder about 7 feet across, 6' high and 2-3 feet deep. It came off shockingly easy, swept the route and took out a few trees as it cascaded down the hillside below. It would have killed me had I stepped on it via a ground up ascent.

 

Biggest was the snake. And the guy who had his rope break on rappel, that was a close second.

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...exposed a boulder which my earlier perception from below had caused me to believe was part of the wall, but was in fact a detached boulder about 7 feet across, 6' high and 2-3 feet deep. It came off shockingly easy, swept the route and took out a few trees as it cascaded down the hillside below. It would have killed me had I stepped on it via a ground up ascent...

Wow, that made me remember why I don't climb at Vantage anymore.

How could I have forgotten about this one???

 

Years back, during the early 90s exploration of the south-facing walls closer to the river, I was climbing on some thing (near today's Chicks and Hens??, Fox and Hens? Hen something?) whereupon the whole column teetered away from the wall, with me on it in a mid-mantle move to the column top. I leaped off and to the right, "Superman-ing" it toward the earth. Anything was better than riding the column down, but I had no idea what I was going to do next. I figured, "Hey, one problem at a time."

 

My pro was popping all the way, as the crack formed by the column widened and disappeared as the column fell further and further from the wall. I thought for sure I was going to die, but as I approached the talus for what was sure to be a hard landing, the rope came taught against the first piece off the ground (my leap had outpaced the column's fall), and I performed what can only be described as a "Wiley E. Coyote", whereupon one finds himself over the edge of the cliff, but doesn't fall until he looks down and understands that there is no longer any ground beneath him.

 

I came up short against the end of the rope, decelerated rapidly, hung near-motionless in mid-air for a split second about 6 feet off the ground and parallel to the talus slope, then slammed into the talus. The impact force was akin to rolling out of the top of a bunk bed and landing solidly on the floor. I'm sure many of you have experienced this same feeling as a college student waking up after a night of binge drinking. :/

 

The remnants of the column, now big chunks about the size of a Smart Car, came crashing down the talus slope toward me, grinding and melting the rope about 2-3 feet from my harness knot. Someone's pile jacket was effectively returned to its post-pop bottle state, a mass of melted plastic fused to the rock upon which it recently sat. Clouds of dust peeled up into the air, and I could hear Bill Robins' and Paul Certa's voices through the melee, "Oh my God, we finally killed somebody!" Being Hanford employees, I later learned that had I been killed in their presence, they would have had mountains of paperwork to fill out about the incident. I feel overjoyed to have been responsible in helping them avoid this inconvenience by not dying on them that day.

 

Anyway, much to the amazement of the assembled crowd, I slowly arose from the ashes like a Phoenix, quietly dusted myself off, and proceeded to find a quiet place to assess my injuries: an elbow the size of a softball, multiple scrapes, lacerations, and contusions along one side of my body (where I landed) and both of my palms, and totally dusted in volcanic ash and dirt. No head injury, and I was NOT wearing a helmet back in those days. The whole place was silent for several minutes, as those present were in awe of my highly unlikely survival. I think they may have actually expected me to just fall over dead any second, as surely no one could have survived that plunge and the subsequent boulder barrage.

 

I credit my life to my belayer that day, Randy Yeates, who stood fast his position instead of cutting and running, because it was he who buried himself in a crack, making a de facto body belay out of himself, and never let go of the rope, as I made my trip toward terra firma. Thank you again, Randy, wherever you may be.

 

This is a no bullshit story. If Bill Robins were alive today, he would confirm it. If you know Paul Certa, ask him. I lost contact with Randy after that day. He may have ceased climbing after this. I do not climb at Vantage anymore.

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That story wins the thread, the forum, the website, and places third overall on the whole frikkin interweb. Your pro didn't zipper, the pro stayed and the crag zippered.

 

Ditto, and I was going to tell my own wasp story how Wasps and rappelling don't mix but will lead to over 300 stings: no need now.

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holy shit, sobo?? And you still climb????

 

why not? if he lived through that shit, he must be invincible

Some may call what I do climbing... others, not so much. :rolleyes:

But I still manage to get out a little bit. I wear a helmet religiously now. I refuse to climb at Vantage unless it's at the Feathers. They are more solid than the columns. Or Fugg's Falls, when it's iced up, is still a good trip.

 

Regarding being invincible, I attempted to climb something later that same day after the swelling in my elbow went down some, to "get back on the horse" as they say. It was some climb, I think it was a 5.7, somewhere near the grotto/tunnel downclimb, that had some reference to Jesus or crucifixion in its name, because at one point on the climb, you're facing into the rock, face plastered right up against it, in a position not unlike a crucifixion posture. I got sorta scared on it, even at 5.7, and had to downclimb it. I never went back to finish it.

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Well, you're pretty much correct there, Billy.

I almost had forgotten about it, until Bill reminded me through his own similar experience.

Now I have to go back and "unremember" it again. :mad:

 

Didn't mean to kill the thread... :(

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  • 1 year later...

This demands resurrection as the best story ever on this site...

 

Wow, that made me remember why I don't climb at Vantage anymore.

How could I have forgotten about this one???

 

Years back, during the early 90s exploration of the south-facing walls closer to the river, I was climbing on some thing (near today's Chicks and Hens??, Fox and Hens? Hen something?) whereupon the whole column teetered away from the wall, with me on it in a mid-mantle move to the column top. I leaped off and to the right, "Superman-ing" it toward the earth. Anything was better than riding the column down, but I had no idea what I was going to do next. I figured, "Hey, one problem at a time."

 

My pro was popping all the way, as the crack formed by the column widened and disappeared as the column fell further and further from the wall. I thought for sure I was going to die, but as I approached the talus for what was sure to be a hard landing, the rope came taught against the first piece off the ground (my leap had outpaced the column's fall), and I performed what can only be described as a "Wiley E. Coyote", whereupon one finds himself over the edge of the cliff, but doesn't fall until he looks down and understands that there is no longer any ground beneath him.

 

I came up short against the end of the rope, decelerated rapidly, hung near-motionless in mid-air for a split second about 6 feet off the ground and parallel to the talus slope, then slammed into the talus. The impact force was akin to rolling out of the top of a bunk bed and landing solidly on the floor. I'm sure many of you have experienced this same feeling as a college student waking up after a night of binge drinking. :/

 

The remnants of the column, now big chunks about the size of a Smart Car, came crashing down the talus slope toward me, grinding and melting the rope about 2-3 feet from my harness knot. Someone's pile jacket was effectively returned to its post-pop bottle state, a mass of melted plastic fused to the rock upon which it recently sat. Clouds of dust peeled up into the air, and I could hear Bill Robins' and Paul Certa's voices through the melee, "Oh my God, we finally killed somebody!" Being Hanford employees, I later learned that had I been killed in their presence, they would have had mountains of paperwork to fill out about the incident. I feel overjoyed to have been responsible in helping them avoid this inconvenience by not dying on them that day.

 

Anyway, much to the amazement of the assembled crowd, I slowly arose from the ashes like a Phoenix, quietly dusted myself off, and proceeded to find a quiet place to assess my injuries: an elbow the size of a softball, multiple scrapes, lacerations, and contusions along one side of my body (where I landed) and both of my palms, and totally dusted in volcanic ash and dirt. No head injury, and I was NOT wearing a helmet back in those days. The whole place was silent for several minutes, as those present were in awe of my highly unlikely survival. I think they may have actually expected me to just fall over dead any second, as surely no one could have survived that plunge and the subsequent boulder barrage.

 

I credit my life to my belayer that day, Randy Yeates, who stood fast his position instead of cutting and running, because it was he who buried himself in a crack, making a de facto body belay out of himself, and never let go of the rope, as I made my trip toward terra firma. Thank you again, Randy, wherever you may be.

 

This is a no bullshit story. If Bill Robins were alive today, he would confirm it. If you know Paul Certa, ask him. I lost contact with Randy after that day. He may have ceased climbing after this. I do not climb at Vantage anymore.

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-Once while shoving my fingers into a three finger pocket on a 5.11 pocket route, I heard a creak. The tips of my fingers felt weird. I was smashing a bat into the back of the pocket. I didn't crush him and I didn't fall off.

 

-At 4th of July rock in college I approached the top and saw several rattelsnakes "guarding" the anchor.

 

-climbing Mixed Master at Banff, when I was part way up the first pitch, I ran into and followed a 120 foot streak of blood that was in the ice below the surface of the ice on the first two pitches.

 

-Climbing Girth Pillar with Colin H.and running into a pair of crampionscarefully set on the rock.

 

 

 

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How could I have forgotten about this one???

 

No kidding, I was reading this thread, thinking it was new and that I'd add my rattlesnake story when I get to my post in 2008 of the rattlesnake story..... I didn't remember posting that or this thread at all:-)

 

Ujahn was cleaning a line off top down. He was telling me about this great crack that started up higher and how it would pro well. As he felt like he'd gotten all the loose stuff off, and there was no to minimal pro for the first 80 feet, I thought I'd do a quick lap up his fixed rope to get to the top of the wall and toss off if there was any loose rocks he'd left behind. Then I get up to this thing. I'm like, WTF? I can see all 4 sides, if it cuts loose, I'll die. If I put my fingers in that crack and it pulls, they'll be ground Chuck. Hmmm. I didn't see it till I was right on it, and he hadn't seen it at all looking down, yet it was of significant size.

The flake from underneath:

Ujahns_death_block_cleaning.jpg

 

Ujahn cleaning right above and next to it:

Ujahn_on_Beeline_wide_small.jpg

 

We pushed it off the next weekend. The route still has not seen an ascent.

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I had a frog jump onto my hand while climbing. Twice. Once at Mt. Erie and once at Index.

 

A couple of days ago I watched a climber take a fall on ice. I had never seen/taken a leader fall before. He was slowly and methodically working up a steep section on Bow Falls in Canada, and he was pulling a bulge at the top of the hard part. Suddenly I hear, "FALLING!" and he just peels off the route. His ice tool was left hanging there in the ice, 20 feet above him. He had to walk out 3 miles on a sprained ankle. Luckily we got his tool and pro back.

 

-Mark

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