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ivan

best of cc.com [TR] Dildorado - West Ridge Rapege 7/3/2009

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Trip: Dildorado - West Ridge Rapege

 

Date: 7/3/2009

 

Trip Report:

charlie don't surf, and joshk sure as fuck don't aid climb, so what for us star-crossed companions to do on my great big summa'thrills?

 

dildo-rado - west ridge - dude - seriously - easy, long rock climb - you'll dig it

 

i pick the soundtracks, the routes pick me - i try not to think too much about it - just go w/ a good goofy fuck and it'll all go well, no? so josh threw it out there, and for my sins i said sure

 

so, here she looks from the dildo/dildo needle col, our descent/approach from pimpe-station #1 at the base of eldo's east ridge

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but wait, i'm getting ahead of meself - this was supposed to be a thing about how much i sport a happy hardon for frumpy frau jo'berg - seriously, how can anyone stomach walking up the eldorado creek approach, seeing this vision w/o wanting to run strait back down to the car to tear ass up to the pass for a texas-rules steel-cage death match w/ the Big Bitch?

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shit, no - this was going to be a cook-book tr - sangrias above the sibley!

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an hour of slurping down these brainbusters, during which i swallowed a slurry of pesto, tunafish salad and french bread, left me enjoying hte wonders of the macro button on the new rat cam - i wanna treat some poor assholes herpephobia by wallpapering his whole room with pix like these but saying, "don't worry, it won't bite"

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fat, drunk n' stupid, i felt in prime condition to take on the final ascent to the eldo glacier and our evening's frivoliaties about the bivy - both josh and i sported the alpine stereo throughout the trip, and it smoothed over the awkward parts, like where we felt like we were supposed to be making meaningful conversation with each other, discussing our emotions and grand philsophical views of life, our taste in matchbox cars and feelings towards movies with gladiators in them - mostly the non-stop tunage served to Keep the Weasels on the Verge - LL Cool J's "i can't live w/o my radio" seemed of particuliar significance this trip

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we bivy'ed on a prime chunk of real-estate, a bare slab by daypool (magically dissappears at night, only to reappear by day :) ) - we spent the evening drinking wine n' vodka, smoking poorly rolled cigarretes and eating lasagna, looking at all the lack-luster scenery

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why must the moon ruin all fine shots?

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by the time it had come to tend to sleep, i'd worked meself into rare-aould form - the stars had that extra-twinkle you look for in a premium sparkler, and the boom of warmth once in the tent and out of the wind turned tori amos' voice into a great golden bird that carried me to a far-away place, full of doe-eyed beauties capable of things the english-langauge was never meant to convey - at any rate, far, far away from filthy mother-fuckers such as yourselves :)

 

emerging from the time-fog in the dawn, we set no speed records in getting packed up for our day's objective - a descent down to the toe of the west ridge, a quick run up, then a little-house-on-the-dead-injuns stroll down to camp for a rock-star finale

 

en route to the dildo/dildo needle col, we enjoyed the local luge scene to some oakenfold melodies

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the descent was strait-forward enough, and once at 6400 feet we easily traversed over to the base of the ridge - i distinctly remember thinking, thank fuck i don't have to walk back up THAT

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at this point we felt in line w/ the chi of the beta-bastard - broad gully up, over some slabs - check

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we stopped atop the coursing slabs for our last dose of water - did i mention i only brought a single liter bottle for storage - and it was blindingly bright n' hot? and that somehow it was already noon on a route that supposedly takes 9 hours to top out on? :)

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we weren't certain were this big bastard of a ridge was best to get on, but close as we could glean from the beta, it involved getting into a chimney-ish thing that would climb to the crest in a few pitches - this snow blobbish area looked just right - the only problem, upon getting up to it, was that is was protected by a giant moat, only surmountable by a vertical-limitish inspired full run n' jump onto the blob :)

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we sniffed off to the left of the moat/blob, figuring if we could just reach the crest of the ridge, all would be fine from there - figuring on goode'ish style climb, we'd left the rock shoes at home - this didn't help when the first line we tried turned into a pro-less smear fest that led to the Land of Little Hope - we stepped back down to the glacier and went even further left - deceptively difficult traversing on the generally crackless, featureless gritty slabs left us quickly despondent - why the fuck was it so hard to get on route?

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2 pitches up - josh follows me to the "don't fall dumbass, there's no anchor here" belay

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goddamit, why does reality always have to get between me n' my mellow? roasting in the sun, dark rocks painful to the touch, we opted to eschew trying to regain the snow-blob chimney as the traverse over appeared suck-ass - instead josh took us up a rope-length, then i another along a leftwards traverse below rotten roofs that ended in both of us looking at each other, the time, our minimal water and non-high-tech shoes, our whole busted framed-out take on life and all and resoundingly resolved, the twain of us, to "fuck this shit"

 

i'd like to forget about the next 6 hours of so of my life - i recall combining raps on rotten blocks and horns to downclimbing to finally re-reaching the snow and the bizarrely steep slabs below that, then the awful gut-rending retracing of our steps back up 2000 feet to camp, the western sun savaging us each step upon the way - the cruel twist of josh's ipod containing some, but not all of the "use your illusion" albums - shivering in the sudden dusk of the "unsavory gulley" below the col - i reached camp a defeated man, a mean man, a mike tyson biting off your ear even though i'm still gonna lose goddamitt kinda man - i crawled into the bottom of my sleepng bag and tried not to think about the cavalier decision to make my second dinner of the trip a "character-builder" i.e. essentially nothing :)

 

eventually some hot water reduced the chills of the heat stroke i'd worked up, and the night did it's magic thing - i drifted from my mental moorings and ran along a swiftly filling tide, the dam-stocks of the earth burst and bedlam flowing before them, a cacophony of voices and sounds, full of the proverbial sound and fury that signifies nothing - i can't remember a bit of it now, but i recall it was a fine example of something, that's for certain

 

'round 11 or so in the following a.m., the hub-bub of megateam after megateam strolling on by inspired us to emerge into the blast furnace, eat our paltry breakfast (yum...stale bread and chilied mangoes!) and lie around alot, contemplating an excursion to the top - we recalled it was america-does-you-in-the-ass-and-brags-about-it-to-its-friends-day - we spent a far part of the mornign screaming: "america - fuck yeah!"

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finally we motivated up the hill - it was my first visit to eldo's top, but i was familiar w/ the uber-famous summit ridge shot, though perhaps not to see it so deeply resembling a frozen version of the somne, circa 1916.

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we ran down from the summit while the masses plyed their ropes up and down the Savage Crevasse Field!

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"does this mountain make my johnson look small?"

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the walk out was wonderful of course - scorching - no food except 5 little gummy guys - you know, the kind that look like plastic toy soldiers and taste like sour apples? my favorite is the grenade throwing dude - what a hero - total sgt york bullshit - it inspired me to starve, and to get momentarily lost near the waterfalls, and in the boulder field - we took comfort in seeing the broken on the rack and crucified by the wayside crew on 9 or so guided climbers miserably played out along the lower trail, the lead gaggle complete w/ member passed on in the middle of the steep path, collecting talus :)

 

the evenign of the 4th of july was a wonderful thing - we bathed in the sibley and drank shiraz - we laid around marblemount-me and drank shiraz - we cursed at good food for being closed and drank shiraz - we laid behind a boxcar, smoking all kinds of things, drinking shiraz - we barely managed to walk out of the buffalo's bullsack or wahtever it's called and drive to the ross lake overlook on the 20, where we passed out by the curbside in the twilight glow, the feast of a thousand fuck-all mosquitoes that made our lives needlessly hellish by sunrise at 4:20, whereupon we fled in horror to mazama, too whooped even for a washington pass approach - some coffee at the general store inspired us to go to fun rock, but the sweltering heat and our radiating sun-flesh flushed us like cosmic turds into the methow, whereupon the day improved substantially

 

i enjoyed the tree by the general store with its barbed wire and pole locked in a borg-ish struggle w/ the juniper that was once behind it

 

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don't get excited kids, i've been trying to reduce my smoking by insisting on only the worst hand-rolled, dried out bullshit leaf cigs modern man can make - the upgrade on the $3 walmart white hat i heartily endorse though :)

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we anchored the cooler in the swirling wonder of the methow and spent the next 6 hours jumping off the mega-fuck-fun boulder across from the prime rib parking lot, weathering out an unceasing torrent of tourists who no-doubt disdain drunken, farmer-tan-fried redneck phreaks such as meself - i enjoyed meself at least :)

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fuck climbing - shade and rivers :rawk:

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meant to climb all kinds of glorious thigns after this rest day, but rain and clouds at wa pass compelled our return to seattlestan and the fine female forms of fremont :P

 

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One of my favorite and enjoyable "fails". That heat was just oppressive and a day jumping in to deep pools in the Methow River can rank right up there with a great climbing day!

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Nicely done except for the constantly have to scroll back and forth to see all of the text and pictures. Sounds like a standard by normal epic fail with soundtrack and cursing.

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Congrats on climbing the lEast ridge. I hear it's the gnar.

 

Hey, invite me next time, eh?

 

 

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