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kevbone

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1/10/16 - 4th year of setting down the shit that does down in beatardia, where men are women and women are never around :)

 

was a rude late fall/early winter season - the big blow of early november annihilated the hiking trail and i woulda been pissed about it if'n never-ending rains hadn't set in and made soloing laps insane anyway

 

a late december trip out w/ geoff at the start of winter break - we ended up just drinking beers n' smoking shit n' commenting on the awful, awful slickery nature of everything - the wall closed at ground zero and so nothing aidable particularly of interest

 

christmas ensued and all was well - didn't have the cash or the clock-time to go for a long off trade to red rocks or whatever, so the only local option was heading up to the puget sound and make a water-man of meself again - last year was great, a 3 day back-pack on the olympic coast n' a 2 day ocean kayak

 

this time around it was a 6-day sea window

 

beat up north in the early hours of 12/27, bent out of my mind it seemed, water streaming along the side of the automovat - seattle shortly after dawn, proud pat all pat-like

 

made our way to the marina n' nattered in the cold light waiting to meet up w/ our captain, a true comedy of errors - soon enough we were on board and casting off

 

sweet simple sailing southward in light airs, past bouys bestowed with sealions - seals - dolphins - eagles both american and candadian i bet - the pleasant site of a 'lion bolting down a full-growth salmon by tail

 

the last bit into port orchard by motor, the night come round so soon - carriers at bremerton

 

ashore we 'sup n' carouse n' enjoy ourselves capitally - meet a sheila-acquaintance of denali dave's round the fireplace n' philsophize over the weight of smoke before rambling off to a sea-berth :)

 

sail oughta town the next day and all was well - got meself nearly kilt by a swinging boom just shy of brian island or somethign like that - spent much of the night dazed as could be but enjoyed a grand time nonetheless binging on burgundy, n' noble reds n' flowing bowls of what-have-you until 2 in the morning

 

awoke feeling near as death as i've felt in awhile - the hard-knock the day before was certainly one of my fabled 9 lives n' i felt the truth of it - grayed out - feeling the cold i'd inherited from the silverton clan plus the concusssion plus the cold above deck plus the deep, deep fucking booze funk

 

they all thought i was dead the day before and grew doubly grim when i was drawing breath the day after but groaning - turned into me laying in agony on the cabin bench n' holding me head together as we steamed back to seattle against a solid breeze

 

the rest of the day was a healing thing - pat flung himself into the sound in his wetsuit as i laid around his joint, showering and trying to sleep off my fucking concussion - that night we did some super-stoned shopping n' headed over to his girlfriend's for a sumptous dinner set against a most scorchign cold outside - i cackled n' thumbed through 1960's civil defense brochures while pat snored n' i made small talk w/ his missus and her very alien animal

 

3 days of ocean kayaking ensued - launched out from an indian reservation near bellingham, stocked up on cheap injun smokes - the rudder was rudely impaired n' pat didn't know but had me in the back anyhow, so after hours of bitching n' cussing we finally fetched up on clark island

 

soaked rather wet we came straight ashore n' made camp in what proved to be a damned cold place - made a roaring fire n' had a bit of a good night - italian fare i recollect - olives n' red sauce n' sausage tortellinis n' mozeralla n' red wine - a sputtering fire, a bit of a dissapointment but soon enough the tent beside a snoring pat n' i slept soundly, the head cold resonating through me

 

day 2 of the ocean kayak we resolve to shift our camp southwards on the island but no further - find a sweet cove filled w/ firewood n' a sweltering sun, relative to our recent camp - we souse along the shore for a bit n' later launch for a trip to a nearby island where pat is molested by sheep

 

great night, this one - we were promised the northern lights but they never appeared but fuck it - it was new years eve - we sat by a roaring fire n' enjoyed bacon n' chili n' what-have-you, me sucking down pionot noir n' smokes n' enjoying the simpleness of being stranded at sea

 

new year's eve we returned to civilization n' after a bit of agony i made it home in time for winter weather and a nice delayed start to the school year

 

 

but this a beacon thread, n' so all this stuff before is simple bullshit n' i apologize for it

 

today was day 1! corner lap #1, but not solo n' gladly not

 

geoff at the bk a bit past 10 - we saunter eastwards by strong light n' stronger winds

 

the parking lot in a simple gale - we pack and wander down, bound n' determined to reach the top of the uprising and to suss out the damage from there

 

cold n' icy but delightfully dry - i take pitch 1 n' we alternate from there - snow patches here and there, but dry where it needs to be - some beers along the way n' we get time to poke our head over the railing n' take in the carnage on the touron-trail - much work to be done it's obvious - big blown out trees n' blowdown n' battered stones - we take it in and scoot down the raps in the big blow n' enjoy some beers and ramboling aroudn and reach back for home

 

here's to 2016 :brew:

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  • 2 weeks later...

the immediate priority i think should be getting the north side back open - closing the whole thing right after the storm might have made sense, but 2 months later folks ought to have access - stone soup in particular is silly to have closed, seeing as how its 50 feet from the open parking lot.

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1/10/16 - 4th year of setting down the shit that does down in beatardia, where men are women and women are never around :)

 

was a rude late fall/early winter season - the big blow of early november annihilated the hiking trail and i woulda been pissed about it if'n never-ending rains hadn't set in and made soloing laps insane anyway

 

a late december trip out w/ geoff at the start of winter break - we ended up just drinking beers n' smoking shit n' commenting on the awful, awful slickery nature of everything - the wall closed at ground zero and so nothing aidable particularly of interest

 

christmas ensued and all was well - didn't have the cash or the clock-time to go for a long off trade to red rocks or whatever, so the only local option was heading up to the puget sound and make a water-man of meself again - last year was great, a 3 day back-pack on the olympic coast n' a 2 day ocean kayak

 

this time around it was a 6-day sea window

 

beat up north in the early hours of 12/27, bent out of my mind it seemed, water streaming along the side of the automovat - seattle shortly after dawn, proud pat all pat-like

 

made our way to the marina n' nattered in the cold light waiting to meet up w/ our captain, a true comedy of errors - soon enough we were on board and casting off

 

sweet simple sailing southward in light airs, past bouys bestowed with sealions - seals - dolphins - eagles both american and candadian i bet - the pleasant site of a 'lion bolting down a full-growth salmon by tail

 

the last bit into port orchard by motor, the night come round so soon - carriers at bremerton

 

ashore we 'sup n' carouse n' enjoy ourselves capitally - meet a sheila-acquaintance of denali dave's round the fireplace n' philsophize over the weight of smoke before rambling off to a sea-berth :)

 

sail oughta town the next day and all was well - got meself nearly kilt by a swinging boom just shy of brian island or somethign like that - spent much of the night dazed as could be but enjoyed a grand time nonetheless binging on burgundy, n' noble reds n' flowing bowls of what-have-you until 2 in the morning

 

awoke feeling near as death as i've felt in awhile - the hard-knock the day before was certainly one of my fabled 9 lives n' i felt the truth of it - grayed out - feeling the cold i'd inherited from the silverton clan plus the concusssion plus the cold above deck plus the deep, deep fucking booze funk

 

they all thought i was dead the day before and grew doubly grim when i was drawing breath the day after but groaning - turned into me laying in agony on the cabin bench n' holding me head together as we steamed back to seattle against a solid breeze

 

the rest of the day was a healing thing - pat flung himself into the sound in his wetsuit as i laid around his joint, showering and trying to sleep off my fucking concussion - that night we did some super-stoned shopping n' headed over to his girlfriend's for a sumptous dinner set against a most scorchign cold outside - i cackled n' thumbed through 1960's civil defense brochures while pat snored n' i made small talk w/ his missus and her very alien animal

 

3 days of ocean kayaking ensued - launched out from an indian reservation near bellingham, stocked up on cheap injun smokes - the rudder was rudely impaired n' pat didn't know but had me in the back anyhow, so after hours of bitching n' cussing we finally fetched up on clark island

 

soaked rather wet we came straight ashore n' made camp in what proved to be a damned cold place - made a roaring fire n' had a bit of a good night - italian fare i recollect - olives n' red sauce n' sausage tortellinis n' mozeralla n' red wine - a sputtering fire, a bit of a dissapointment but soon enough the tent beside a snoring pat n' i slept soundly, the head cold resonating through me

 

day 2 of the ocean kayak we resolve to shift our camp southwards on the island but no further - find a sweet cove filled w/ firewood n' a sweltering sun, relative to our recent camp - we souse along the shore for a bit n' later launch for a trip to a nearby island where pat is molested by sheep

 

great night, this one - we were promised the northern lights but they never appeared but fuck it - it was new years eve - we sat by a roaring fire n' enjoyed bacon n' chili n' what-have-you, me sucking down pionot noir n' smokes n' enjoying the simpleness of being stranded at sea

 

new year's eve we returned to civilization n' after a bit of agony i made it home in time for winter weather and a nice delayed start to the school year

 

 

but this a beacon thread, n' so all this stuff before is simple bullshit n' i apologize for it

 

today was day 1! corner lap #1, but not solo n' gladly not

 

geoff at the bk a bit past 10 - we saunter eastwards by strong light n' stronger winds

 

the parking lot in a simple gale - we pack and wander down, bound n' determined to reach the top of the uprising and to suss out the damage from there

 

cold n' icy but delightfully dry - i take pitch 1 n' we alternate from there - snow patches here and there, but dry where it needs to be - some beers along the way n' we get time to poke our head over the railing n' take in the carnage on the touron-trail - much work to be done it's obvious - big blown out trees n' blowdown n' battered stones - we take it in and scoot down the raps in the big blow n' enjoy some beers and ramboling aroudn and reach back for home

 

here's to 2016 :brew:

1/31 - day 2 - closing day, and not a very promising one - 39 degrees n' pouring rain in the parking lot - a drive out through mental desperation, the moss on this here rolling rock of meself growing thick n' fucking shaggy

 

beers n' bullshitting w/ steve n' waiting for the weather to give up a little - there were no illusions of how thorough soggy it was gonna be

 

no wind to speak of though, so there was that at least and it got warmer on the south side after the mist melted away - soon enough i cast off, pulling on gear here and there to remind meself not to be a dipshit on a point of pride climbing the slime-cone

 

the sun shone out halfway up and the mood improved noticeably - fresh snow, as innocent as a downy laotian-lamb along the far gorge walls -steve was exuberant to lead the second pitch and i salute him for it as it wouldn't have taken much to talk me out of it

 

a real slippy-slidey one is that - our boy did it w/o flying off but, following, i found meself doing the cartoon-character spinning me feet in the air thang at one point and only narrowly avoiding a pretty cosmic pirouette around the first crux

 

found meself holding forth somethign fierce on tree ledge, swilling pbr n' pounding upon our poor fellow about his own cosmic hangups -those rightly disposed, and a few butts thrown in to boot, i bolted on up the slippery ramps to grassy ledges - since i had a 70 and the jill's anchor was running wet, i went past it and anchored to a tree - a flippant shoulder belay ensued n' steve quite soon went n' fell big time onto it but i proved them old-boys knew what they were doing and ended up smiling on the ground for it :)

 

the trail closed sign even as we slipped away - stone soup next month now i suppose, though i suspect it's gonna take a civil action and yet another juicy skamania judge session before it gets sorted out - how good is it i have no other hobbies? :)

 

IMG_01682.JPG

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Who are the 8 members? Thanks.

 

Evidentally you are not one of them Kevbone. Me neither. Its what comes with being to radical. They don't want us sport climbers bolting up the place.

 

LOL

 

Seriously though....I would like to know who is representing me at Beacon. Thanks!

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Who are the 8 members? Thanks.

 

Evidentally you are not one of them Kevbone. Me neither. Its what comes with being to radical. They don't want us sport climbers bolting up the place.

 

LOL

 

Seriously though....I would like to know who is representing me at Beacon. Thanks!

thought that had been listed on this thread already?

 

bill coe's one, he can tell us the others - i doubt all 8 of them have spent time in the land of the little people :)

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OK. So I finally got a list of who is on this committee. Only Bill Coe is a Beacon Rock climber/local. I guess Randy Klein decided who was going to represent Beacon. Jim, myself, Arent and others where left out because we are too emotional. Well....your right about that. IMO this is completely unacceptable to have people representing Beacon Rock who are not locals and climb at Beacon on a regular basis. I am moving towards forming our own committee. Obviously this committee has no power and has not accomplished anything considering the 15 year faze out of the bird closure. There is absolutely no legal precedent keeping the rock closed at this time.

 

Kevin

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thomas jefferson wouldn't stand for this kinda crap man, eh? :)

 

hey, don't feel so bad, you weren't the only one who was rejected in his bid to be a Beacon Overlord

 

to be serious, i wouldn't sell bill short - and there were a # of other folks on the list i recall that i had some confidence in too

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