Beacon

[ivan]

we can arrange the particuliars when we're a wee bit closer to the party - i'll likely be done w/ work by 3 that friday, so would say meet me in camas 'round then - we'll hump all the shit to the slum-it, then fix it all down to the ground - probably won't take more than 2 hours total - a huge rope like yours is ideal for the first fix since it'll get fixed to lower anchors too and a damned touron won't be able to unfix it at the top n' walk away w/ it

[ivan]

Edited March 1, 2014 by ivan

[denalidave]

I miss having a steady supply of Bacon in my diet.

 

Gonna try to make Jimmy's 70th, but hard to tell if I can make it home then.

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

[beaconben]

read and re-read

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

[ivan]

*bump* on jim's bday gala next week - who's coming?

 

anyone want to come out for a pre-party friday afternoon/evening to help string up stone soup for a jug-race saturday?

[denalidave]

*bump* on jim's bday gala next week - who's coming?

 

anyone want to come out for a pre-party friday afternoon/evening to help string up stone soup for a jug-race saturday?

May as well spread the love and hang here for a the overflow party. I'll be camping Sat night but not sure about Friday. Jimmy has a clean bed here if he wants one...

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

 

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

4/25-27 - days 10-12 - the long awaited hollabahoo - infernal plans pondered n proceeded upon even as mudder-earth pissed relentlessly all over them - friday mike, geoff n' i hike 6 ropes up to the summit, hop the railing, n' fix from there to the ground - bursts of sunshine here and there - the work quickly over and we head over, swingers-style, 3 of us in 3 cars to discover the whereabouts of the secret rebel base

 

a fine evenign drinking all kinds of things as the rain came and went - yer lebowski lebowski, etc, etc

 

saturday not so terrible at first w/ sun and scudding clouds - strangers assemble - the party grows by leaps and bounds - eventually a few of us head off to jug the lines - some wierd spots here and there and i nearly killed unknown tourists by kicking off a few good sized stones - at the summit i drank a beer than promptly damn-near broke my ankle by turning over on it while walking down the stairs and dodging the tourons - sigh...

 

saturday evening too epic to attempt description - dogs n' kids, raffels, ole'opdycke, speeches and salutations, the savage post-amniotic scene splayed out - rain builds upon rain, the beers go deeper and deeper, and soon the day rode out of me

 

sunday really quite nasty w/ wind and sheets of steel rain - a slow stumble-fuck back to the summit after breaking camp n' making our farewells - felt tempted to turn back from the recovery operation at the moment of truth but luckily geoff dissappeared over the edge and it was too late - not too tough to get it all back, thanks to help from geoff n' dave - strong weather once we hit earth, but then the weekend was over and it was time for wine n' school work n' hbo-fare

 

happy 70th old man

[dougd]

happy 70th old man

 

I'll drink to that

 

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

 

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

 

4/25-27 - days 10-12 - the long awaited hollabahoo - infernal plans pondered n proceeded upon even as mudder-earth pissed relentlessly all over them - friday mike, geoff n' i hike 6 ropes up to the summit, hop the railing, n' fix from there to the ground - bursts of sunshine here and there - the work quickly over and we head over, swingers-style, 3 of us in 3 cars to discover the whereabouts of the secret rebel base

 

a fine evenign drinking all kinds of things as the rain came and went - yer lebowski lebowski, etc, etc

 

saturday not so terrible at first w/ sun and scudding clouds - strangers assemble - the party grows by leaps and bounds - eventually a few of us head off to jug the lines - some wierd spots here and there and i nearly killed unknown tourists by kicking off a few good sized stones - at the summit i drank a beer than promptly damn-near broke my ankle by turning over on it while walking down the stairs and dodging the tourons - sigh...

 

saturday evening too epic to attempt description - dogs n' kids, raffels, ole'opdycke, speeches and salutations, the savage post-amniotic scene splayed out - rain builds upon rain, the beers go deeper and deeper, and soon the day rode out of me

 

sunday really quite nasty w/ wind and sheets of steel rain - a slow stumble-fuck back to the summit after breaking camp n' making our farewells - felt tempted to turn back from the recovery operation at the moment of truth but luckily geoff dissappeared over the edge and it was too late - not too tough to get it all back, thanks to help from geoff n' dave - strong weather once we hit earth, but then the weekend was over and it was time for wine n' school work n' hbo-fare

 

happy 70th old man

may day! #13 for the year (holy sheeit muslims, should i've known that, i'd a been a mit more skert!)

 

lovely wedder, wicked hawt for spring - crunchy moss - many tourons - birds bitching n' circling n' crying all over the place

 

hum along fellow travelers, hum along

 

Stand up, damned of the Earth

Stand up, prisoners of starvation

Reason thunders in its volcano

This is the eruption of the end.

Of the past let us make a clean slate

Enslaved masses, stand up, stand up.

The world is about to change its foundation

We are nothing, let us be all.

This is the final struggle

Let us group together, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be the human race.

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

 

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

 

4/25-27 - days 10-12 - the long awaited hollabahoo - infernal plans pondered n proceeded upon even as mudder-earth pissed relentlessly all over them - friday mike, geoff n' i hike 6 ropes up to the summit, hop the railing, n' fix from there to the ground - bursts of sunshine here and there - the work quickly over and we head over, swingers-style, 3 of us in 3 cars to discover the whereabouts of the secret rebel base

 

a fine evenign drinking all kinds of things as the rain came and went - yer lebowski lebowski, etc, etc

 

saturday not so terrible at first w/ sun and scudding clouds - strangers assemble - the party grows by leaps and bounds - eventually a few of us head off to jug the lines - some wierd spots here and there and i nearly killed unknown tourists by kicking off a few good sized stones - at the summit i drank a beer than promptly damn-near broke my ankle by turning over on it while walking down the stairs and dodging the tourons - sigh...

 

saturday evening too epic to attempt description - dogs n' kids, raffels, ole'opdycke, speeches and salutations, the savage post-amniotic scene splayed out - rain builds upon rain, the beers go deeper and deeper, and soon the day rode out of me

 

sunday really quite nasty w/ wind and sheets of steel rain - a slow stumble-fuck back to the summit after breaking camp n' making our farewells - felt tempted to turn back from the recovery operation at the moment of truth but luckily geoff dissappeared over the edge and it was too late - not too tough to get it all back, thanks to help from geoff n' dave - strong weather once we hit earth, but then the weekend was over and it was time for wine n' school work n' hbo-fare

 

happy 70th old man

 

may day! #13 for the year (holy sheeit muslims, should i've known that, i'd a been a mit more skert!)

 

lovely wedder, wicked hawt for spring - crunchy moss - many tourons - birds bitching n' circling n' crying all over the place

 

hum along fellow travelers, hum along

 

Stand up, damned of the Earth

Stand up, prisoners of starvation

Reason thunders in its volcano

This is the eruption of the end.

Of the past let us make a clean slate

Enslaved masses, stand up, stand up.

The world is about to change its foundation

We are nothing, let us be all.

This is the final struggle

Let us group together, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be the human race.

5/7 - #14 - a rare may-day 24-hour wedder-window - bright sunshine n' light wind - the river runs full - lions abound, loll n' leap, embayed, the waves lap over them - damn near cock-blocked by bastard choo-choos way back at the dawn of day

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

 

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

 

4/25-27 - days 10-12 - the long awaited hollabahoo - infernal plans pondered n proceeded upon even as mudder-earth pissed relentlessly all over them - friday mike, geoff n' i hike 6 ropes up to the summit, hop the railing, n' fix from there to the ground - bursts of sunshine here and there - the work quickly over and we head over, swingers-style, 3 of us in 3 cars to discover the whereabouts of the secret rebel base

 

a fine evenign drinking all kinds of things as the rain came and went - yer lebowski lebowski, etc, etc

 

saturday not so terrible at first w/ sun and scudding clouds - strangers assemble - the party grows by leaps and bounds - eventually a few of us head off to jug the lines - some wierd spots here and there and i nearly killed unknown tourists by kicking off a few good sized stones - at the summit i drank a beer than promptly damn-near broke my ankle by turning over on it while walking down the stairs and dodging the tourons - sigh...

 

saturday evening too epic to attempt description - dogs n' kids, raffels, ole'opdycke, speeches and salutations, the savage post-amniotic scene splayed out - rain builds upon rain, the beers go deeper and deeper, and soon the day rode out of me

 

sunday really quite nasty w/ wind and sheets of steel rain - a slow stumble-fuck back to the summit after breaking camp n' making our farewells - felt tempted to turn back from the recovery operation at the moment of truth but luckily geoff dissappeared over the edge and it was too late - not too tough to get it all back, thanks to help from geoff n' dave - strong weather once we hit earth, but then the weekend was over and it was time for wine n' school work n' hbo-fare

 

happy 70th old man

 

may day! #13 for the year (holy sheeit muslims, should i've known that, i'd a been a mit more skert!)

 

lovely wedder, wicked hawt for spring - crunchy moss - many tourons - birds bitching n' circling n' crying all over the place

 

hum along fellow travelers, hum along

 

Stand up, damned of the Earth

Stand up, prisoners of starvation

Reason thunders in its volcano

This is the eruption of the end.

Of the past let us make a clean slate

Enslaved masses, stand up, stand up.

The world is about to change its foundation

We are nothing, let us be all.

This is the final struggle

Let us group together, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be the human race.

 

5/7 - #14 - a rare may-day 24-hour wedder-window - bright sunshine n' light wind - the river runs full - lions abound, loll n' leap, embayed, the waves lap over them - damn near cock-blocked by bastard choo-choos way back at the dawn of day

5/12 - #15 - piercing sun, a soothing, steady breeze, and balmy skies - no time for cheap heroics, just an hour between bothersome obligations - a quick blitz and off i wandered - beautiful, sloe-eyed ladies on the trail, so very nice

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

 

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

 

4/25-27 - days 10-12 - the long awaited hollabahoo - infernal plans pondered n proceeded upon even as mudder-earth pissed relentlessly all over them - friday mike, geoff n' i hike 6 ropes up to the summit, hop the railing, n' fix from there to the ground - bursts of sunshine here and there - the work quickly over and we head over, swingers-style, 3 of us in 3 cars to discover the whereabouts of the secret rebel base

 

a fine evenign drinking all kinds of things as the rain came and went - yer lebowski lebowski, etc, etc

 

saturday not so terrible at first w/ sun and scudding clouds - strangers assemble - the party grows by leaps and bounds - eventually a few of us head off to jug the lines - some wierd spots here and there and i nearly killed unknown tourists by kicking off a few good sized stones - at the summit i drank a beer than promptly damn-near broke my ankle by turning over on it while walking down the stairs and dodging the tourons - sigh...

 

saturday evening too epic to attempt description - dogs n' kids, raffels, ole'opdycke, speeches and salutations, the savage post-amniotic scene splayed out - rain builds upon rain, the beers go deeper and deeper, and soon the day rode out of me

 

sunday really quite nasty w/ wind and sheets of steel rain - a slow stumble-fuck back to the summit after breaking camp n' making our farewells - felt tempted to turn back from the recovery operation at the moment of truth but luckily geoff dissappeared over the edge and it was too late - not too tough to get it all back, thanks to help from geoff n' dave - strong weather once we hit earth, but then the weekend was over and it was time for wine n' school work n' hbo-fare

 

happy 70th old man

 

may day! #13 for the year (holy sheeit muslims, should i've known that, i'd a been a mit more skert!)

 

lovely wedder, wicked hawt for spring - crunchy moss - many tourons - birds bitching n' circling n' crying all over the place

 

hum along fellow travelers, hum along

 

Stand up, damned of the Earth

Stand up, prisoners of starvation

Reason thunders in its volcano

This is the eruption of the end.

Of the past let us make a clean slate

Enslaved masses, stand up, stand up.

The world is about to change its foundation

We are nothing, let us be all.

This is the final struggle

Let us group together, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be the human race.

 

5/7 - #14 - a rare may-day 24-hour wedder-window - bright sunshine n' light wind - the river runs full - lions abound, loll n' leap, embayed, the waves lap over them - damn near cock-blocked by bastard choo-choos way back at the dawn of day

 

5/12 - #15 - piercing sun, a soothing, steady breeze, and balmy skies - no time for cheap heroics, just an hour between bothersome obligations - a quick blitz and off i wandered - beautiful, sloe-eyed ladies on the trail, so very nice

5/14 - day sixteen - hell of an evening for a hike, the lot stale and empty near dusk - a bitter day of bickering w/ the man and waging holy jihad on behalf of my perplexed polity - all is fair in love n' hate, no?

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

 

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

 

4/25-27 - days 10-12 - the long awaited hollabahoo - infernal plans pondered n proceeded upon even as mudder-earth pissed relentlessly all over them - friday mike, geoff n' i hike 6 ropes up to the summit, hop the railing, n' fix from there to the ground - bursts of sunshine here and there - the work quickly over and we head over, swingers-style, 3 of us in 3 cars to discover the whereabouts of the secret rebel base

 

a fine evenign drinking all kinds of things as the rain came and went - yer lebowski lebowski, etc, etc

 

saturday not so terrible at first w/ sun and scudding clouds - strangers assemble - the party grows by leaps and bounds - eventually a few of us head off to jug the lines - some wierd spots here and there and i nearly killed unknown tourists by kicking off a few good sized stones - at the summit i drank a beer than promptly damn-near broke my ankle by turning over on it while walking down the stairs and dodging the tourons - sigh...

 

saturday evening too epic to attempt description - dogs n' kids, raffels, ole'opdycke, speeches and salutations, the savage post-amniotic scene splayed out - rain builds upon rain, the beers go deeper and deeper, and soon the day rode out of me

 

sunday really quite nasty w/ wind and sheets of steel rain - a slow stumble-fuck back to the summit after breaking camp n' making our farewells - felt tempted to turn back from the recovery operation at the moment of truth but luckily geoff dissappeared over the edge and it was too late - not too tough to get it all back, thanks to help from geoff n' dave - strong weather once we hit earth, but then the weekend was over and it was time for wine n' school work n' hbo-fare

 

happy 70th old man

 

may day! #13 for the year (holy sheeit muslims, should i've known that, i'd a been a mit more skert!)

 

lovely wedder, wicked hawt for spring - crunchy moss - many tourons - birds bitching n' circling n' crying all over the place

 

hum along fellow travelers, hum along

 

Stand up, damned of the Earth

Stand up, prisoners of starvation

Reason thunders in its volcano

This is the eruption of the end.

Of the past let us make a clean slate

Enslaved masses, stand up, stand up.

The world is about to change its foundation

We are nothing, let us be all.

This is the final struggle

Let us group together, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be the human race.

 

5/7 - #14 - a rare may-day 24-hour wedder-window - bright sunshine n' light wind - the river runs full - lions abound, loll n' leap, embayed, the waves lap over them - damn near cock-blocked by bastard choo-choos way back at the dawn of day

 

5/12 - #15 - piercing sun, a soothing, steady breeze, and balmy skies - no time for cheap heroics, just an hour between bothersome obligations - a quick blitz and off i wandered - beautiful, sloe-eyed ladies on the trail, so very nice

 

5/14 - day sixteen - hell of an evening for a hike, the lot stale and empty near dusk - a bitter day of bickering w/ the man and waging holy jihad on behalf of my perplexed polity - all is fair in love n' hate, no?

5/15-6 - days 17-18 - awful bickering w/ vicious bastards across an itty-bitty table followed by lunar ambulations followed by a day of drooling, dumb-founded by dipshits, done at last with a pleasant stroll up a sunny trail into the soothing sky

[dougd]

5/15-6 - days 17-18 - awful bickering w/ vicious bastards across an itty-bitty table

 

Sounds an awful lot like a Union involvement of some kind...

 

d

[ivan]

ding!

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

 

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

 

4/25-27 - days 10-12 - the long awaited hollabahoo - infernal plans pondered n proceeded upon even as mudder-earth pissed relentlessly all over them - friday mike, geoff n' i hike 6 ropes up to the summit, hop the railing, n' fix from there to the ground - bursts of sunshine here and there - the work quickly over and we head over, swingers-style, 3 of us in 3 cars to discover the whereabouts of the secret rebel base

 

a fine evenign drinking all kinds of things as the rain came and went - yer lebowski lebowski, etc, etc

 

saturday not so terrible at first w/ sun and scudding clouds - strangers assemble - the party grows by leaps and bounds - eventually a few of us head off to jug the lines - some wierd spots here and there and i nearly killed unknown tourists by kicking off a few good sized stones - at the summit i drank a beer than promptly damn-near broke my ankle by turning over on it while walking down the stairs and dodging the tourons - sigh...

 

saturday evening too epic to attempt description - dogs n' kids, raffels, ole'opdycke, speeches and salutations, the savage post-amniotic scene splayed out - rain builds upon rain, the beers go deeper and deeper, and soon the day rode out of me

 

sunday really quite nasty w/ wind and sheets of steel rain - a slow stumble-fuck back to the summit after breaking camp n' making our farewells - felt tempted to turn back from the recovery operation at the moment of truth but luckily geoff dissappeared over the edge and it was too late - not too tough to get it all back, thanks to help from geoff n' dave - strong weather once we hit earth, but then the weekend was over and it was time for wine n' school work n' hbo-fare

 

happy 70th old man

 

may day! #13 for the year (holy sheeit muslims, should i've known that, i'd a been a mit more skert!)

 

lovely wedder, wicked hawt for spring - crunchy moss - many tourons - birds bitching n' circling n' crying all over the place

 

hum along fellow travelers, hum along

 

Stand up, damned of the Earth

Stand up, prisoners of starvation

Reason thunders in its volcano

This is the eruption of the end.

Of the past let us make a clean slate

Enslaved masses, stand up, stand up.

The world is about to change its foundation

We are nothing, let us be all.

This is the final struggle

Let us group together, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be the human race.

 

5/7 - #14 - a rare may-day 24-hour wedder-window - bright sunshine n' light wind - the river runs full - lions abound, loll n' leap, embayed, the waves lap over them - damn near cock-blocked by bastard choo-choos way back at the dawn of day

 

5/12 - #15 - piercing sun, a soothing, steady breeze, and balmy skies - no time for cheap heroics, just an hour between bothersome obligations - a quick blitz and off i wandered - beautiful, sloe-eyed ladies on the trail, so very nice

 

5/14 - day sixteen - hell of an evening for a hike, the lot stale and empty near dusk - a bitter day of bickering w/ the man and waging holy jihad on behalf of my perplexed polity - all is fair in love n' hate, no?

 

5/15-6 - days 17-18 - awful bickering w/ vicious bastards across an itty-bitty table followed by lunar ambulations followed by a day of drooling, dumb-founded by dipshits, done at last with a pleasant stroll up a sunny trail into the soothing sky

5/20 - number 19 - after strong storms sunday, all is clear and bright and dryish and balmy - a billion boaters sucking up the salmon on the main channel, no doubt the source of the strong salmon stank in the bathroom - the n side in groovy, groovy conditions - peregrines pirouetting n' screeching piss off despite their confusion on which side exactly they have for their private privations - summer's breathe subsuming all

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

 

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

 

4/25-27 - days 10-12 - the long awaited hollabahoo - infernal plans pondered n proceeded upon even as mudder-earth pissed relentlessly all over them - friday mike, geoff n' i hike 6 ropes up to the summit, hop the railing, n' fix from there to the ground - bursts of sunshine here and there - the work quickly over and we head over, swingers-style, 3 of us in 3 cars to discover the whereabouts of the secret rebel base

 

a fine evenign drinking all kinds of things as the rain came and went - yer lebowski lebowski, etc, etc

 

saturday not so terrible at first w/ sun and scudding clouds - strangers assemble - the party grows by leaps and bounds - eventually a few of us head off to jug the lines - some wierd spots here and there and i nearly killed unknown tourists by kicking off a few good sized stones - at the summit i drank a beer than promptly damn-near broke my ankle by turning over on it while walking down the stairs and dodging the tourons - sigh...

 

saturday evening too epic to attempt description - dogs n' kids, raffels, ole'opdycke, speeches and salutations, the savage post-amniotic scene splayed out - rain builds upon rain, the beers go deeper and deeper, and soon the day rode out of me

 

sunday really quite nasty w/ wind and sheets of steel rain - a slow stumble-fuck back to the summit after breaking camp n' making our farewells - felt tempted to turn back from the recovery operation at the moment of truth but luckily geoff dissappeared over the edge and it was too late - not too tough to get it all back, thanks to help from geoff n' dave - strong weather once we hit earth, but then the weekend was over and it was time for wine n' school work n' hbo-fare

 

happy 70th old man

 

may day! #13 for the year (holy sheeit muslims, should i've known that, i'd a been a mit more skert!)

 

lovely wedder, wicked hawt for spring - crunchy moss - many tourons - birds bitching n' circling n' crying all over the place

 

hum along fellow travelers, hum along

 

Stand up, damned of the Earth

Stand up, prisoners of starvation

Reason thunders in its volcano

This is the eruption of the end.

Of the past let us make a clean slate

Enslaved masses, stand up, stand up.

The world is about to change its foundation

We are nothing, let us be all.

This is the final struggle

Let us group together, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be the human race.

 

5/7 - #14 - a rare may-day 24-hour wedder-window - bright sunshine n' light wind - the river runs full - lions abound, loll n' leap, embayed, the waves lap over them - damn near cock-blocked by bastard choo-choos way back at the dawn of day

 

5/12 - #15 - piercing sun, a soothing, steady breeze, and balmy skies - no time for cheap heroics, just an hour between bothersome obligations - a quick blitz and off i wandered - beautiful, sloe-eyed ladies on the trail, so very nice

 

5/14 - day sixteen - hell of an evening for a hike, the lot stale and empty near dusk - a bitter day of bickering w/ the man and waging holy jihad on behalf of my perplexed polity - all is fair in love n' hate, no?

 

5/15-6 - days 17-18 - awful bickering w/ vicious bastards across an itty-bitty table followed by lunar ambulations followed by a day of drooling, dumb-founded by dipshits, done at last with a pleasant stroll up a sunny trail into the soothing sky

 

5/20 - number 19 - after strong storms sunday, all is clear and bright and dryish and balmy - a billion boaters sucking up the salmon on the main channel, no doubt the source of the strong salmon stank in the bathroom - the n side in groovy, groovy conditions - peregrines pirouetting n' screeching piss off despite their confusion on which side exactly they have for their private privations - summer's breathe subsuming all

5/22 - day 20 - strange storms brewing, vexing vapors rise and seethe at the setting sun - a quick run up the well-worn trail and back for politics n' pissing matches before the working-man's day was even done - a mere month till the sweet solstice, then california dreams and soon that southern bitch will be blossomed-up n' street-legal once more?

[pink]

[JosephH]

Stout.

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

 

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

 

4/25-27 - days 10-12 - the long awaited hollabahoo - infernal plans pondered n proceeded upon even as mudder-earth pissed relentlessly all over them - friday mike, geoff n' i hike 6 ropes up to the summit, hop the railing, n' fix from there to the ground - bursts of sunshine here and there - the work quickly over and we head over, swingers-style, 3 of us in 3 cars to discover the whereabouts of the secret rebel base

 

a fine evenign drinking all kinds of things as the rain came and went - yer lebowski lebowski, etc, etc

 

saturday not so terrible at first w/ sun and scudding clouds - strangers assemble - the party grows by leaps and bounds - eventually a few of us head off to jug the lines - some wierd spots here and there and i nearly killed unknown tourists by kicking off a few good sized stones - at the summit i drank a beer than promptly damn-near broke my ankle by turning over on it while walking down the stairs and dodging the tourons - sigh...

 

saturday evening too epic to attempt description - dogs n' kids, raffels, ole'opdycke, speeches and salutations, the savage post-amniotic scene splayed out - rain builds upon rain, the beers go deeper and deeper, and soon the day rode out of me

 

sunday really quite nasty w/ wind and sheets of steel rain - a slow stumble-fuck back to the summit after breaking camp n' making our farewells - felt tempted to turn back from the recovery operation at the moment of truth but luckily geoff dissappeared over the edge and it was too late - not too tough to get it all back, thanks to help from geoff n' dave - strong weather once we hit earth, but then the weekend was over and it was time for wine n' school work n' hbo-fare

 

happy 70th old man

 

may day! #13 for the year (holy sheeit muslims, should i've known that, i'd a been a mit more skert!)

 

lovely wedder, wicked hawt for spring - crunchy moss - many tourons - birds bitching n' circling n' crying all over the place

 

hum along fellow travelers, hum along

 

Stand up, damned of the Earth

Stand up, prisoners of starvation

Reason thunders in its volcano

This is the eruption of the end.

Of the past let us make a clean slate

Enslaved masses, stand up, stand up.

The world is about to change its foundation

We are nothing, let us be all.

This is the final struggle

Let us group together, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be the human race.

 

5/7 - #14 - a rare may-day 24-hour wedder-window - bright sunshine n' light wind - the river runs full - lions abound, loll n' leap, embayed, the waves lap over them - damn near cock-blocked by bastard choo-choos way back at the dawn of day

 

5/12 - #15 - piercing sun, a soothing, steady breeze, and balmy skies - no time for cheap heroics, just an hour between bothersome obligations - a quick blitz and off i wandered - beautiful, sloe-eyed ladies on the trail, so very nice

 

5/14 - day sixteen - hell of an evening for a hike, the lot stale and empty near dusk - a bitter day of bickering w/ the man and waging holy jihad on behalf of my perplexed polity - all is fair in love n' hate, no?

 

5/15-6 - days 17-18 - awful bickering w/ vicious bastards across an itty-bitty table followed by lunar ambulations followed by a day of drooling, dumb-founded by dipshits, done at last with a pleasant stroll up a sunny trail into the soothing sky

 

5/20 - number 19 - after strong storms sunday, all is clear and bright and dryish and balmy - a billion boaters sucking up the salmon on the main channel, no doubt the source of the strong salmon stank in the bathroom - the n side in groovy, groovy conditions - peregrines pirouetting n' screeching piss off despite their confusion on which side exactly they have for their private privations - summer's breathe subsuming all

 

5/22 - day 20 - strange storms brewing, vexing vapors rise and seethe at the setting sun - a quick run up the well-worn trail and back for politics n' pissing matches before the working-man's day was even done - a mere month till the sweet solstice, then california dreams and soon that southern bitch will be blossomed-up n' street-legal once more?

6/4 - blackjaaaack! - choking, guttering, drowning in my own bile doing battle w/ these bilious bastards - no space to see, no air to breathe - jesus christ man, the weasels have built condos 'round this mother-fucker they've been camped out here so long. fled in horror in the middle of a meeting and slummed me way out, nipping on luke-warm stale keg-beer on the short cruise. a quick rattle on up, sleazy tourists in tattered tee's abiding everywhere. will it never be dawn?

[ivan]

1/15/14 - day 1 - what better way to mark mlk's berfday (and my inaugural beacon ascent of this foul year of our lord two-ought-fourteen) than to "climb to the mountain-top?"

 

the national wedder service promised portentous skies, a bold moon, a hero-ascent, but mike n' geoff n' i settled for much less - cloud murk on the evening drive - a shaft of bright sun at cope horn, than all gone, sucked down into a cloud vortex, a river of moist, cold air motoring on down to portland

 

the rock super slobbery gob-smacked wet n' drippy n' perspiring beads of putrid moss-muck - soon full dark and just cans of flowery beer n' bike-bottles of sweet-wine to pass the time waiting for one warrior-poet-god-king or t'other to Put the Rope up there

 

to the new season and to the storms that will not settle until they have shit all they have to shat upon us!

 

1/21/14 - day 2 - my first solo lap of 2014 and the first maybe for me ever in the month dedicated to that dolorous diety, janus, the god of fortune n' gaudy expectations for the gaunt future - exam week for these ersatz earthlings, they don't seem to deem it of much import - quaint conversations with a curious few in my office hours, some felicitous graduates even stopped on by, delaying me w/o thought as the daylight ticked away and we dispensed w/ the troubled history of the Temple Mount

 

a savage head-wind on the drive in - not warp 9 mind you, but we've definitely made the jump to light-speed - the big bulk of the durango barely making head-way it seemed - the lot w/ two rides of climbers, and good-ole kenny one of them - i froze as i fumbled into my high-tech war-gear and spritned down the trail, croc-shod, just to stay warm - trees down all over the place - folks bailing down young warriors - kenny n' arent just casting off up the corner, all glistening dry n' clambery after last week's sodden adventure

 

climb 50 feet to a stance - thrust fingers against my bare belly to bring back the feeling, then 50 feet more - blasted through the distance w/ dispatch, eschewing uprising n' opting for the longer exit - both peregrines flapping n' screeching n' flyign off as i surprised them at the top by the pin, me deep under 3 layers of hat, head down and figuring what's the worst case scenario should they dive-bomb me?

 

happy, happy day - 1 month of winter dispensed with and more sun for a good long pull still predicted - half the school year done with and we head for the long downhill that bowls us merrily out into summer in the Big Ditch n' anything else mis amigos can propose for diversion

 

1/22 - day 3 - lap 2 of the new year - beacon all alone, nary a soul on the south side - solid grey gloom all day in camas but sunbreaks and inspirations on the drive in, cooled by camels n' a can of rolling rock - cold but much less wind than yesterday, the ranger flag barely flapping - an uneventful ascent n' an easy ramble on down, discoursing w/ a few tourists n' sopping up the views of the dappled river n' dim, setting sun

 

1/24 - day 4 - truly, a january hat-trick, such a stretch of weather so close to our tragic shut-down i can't recollect - warp 5 winds at cape horn, helm's a lee and shuddering at the next road-cut, truly wing n' a prayer conditions on the drive-in

 

kenny's ride in the lot, i crawl into my war-kit n' cast off, scudding down the trail w/ my top-masts unfurled, screeching down the thing before my tits freeze off - race up the corner in the hurricane wind, my hands down my pants every half-pitch, hand-job from a stranger it feels in the forceful breeze - my breath grabbed from my lungs before i can suck it in, panting

 

beers n' butts down by the boat-launch, fuckers passed out in the sweat-lodge again, rocked by the endless gales gusting over from the island - plans to make plans w/ adam n' kenny n' geoff for the what-have-you on hood soon hereafter

 

can this mad season manage to continue?

 

1/31 - day 5 - the dying day, beacon about to be banned and gone till the sun of summer grows high in the western sky - i dreamed that this stretch of winter-dry might linger, but it was not to last- rain all week, not a chance of a solo - friday the final desperate hope, the signs all set to be cemented into place - fuck off you unfeeling fumbling freak

 

no partner could i prepare - mike too molested - kenny contaminated - adam all a'hoo - so i drove out in the growing dusk, gunmetal gray all around, a fresh pack of poison n' a wondrous hip-flask of you-know-what - i lusted that i might arrive to an ecological aberration, a monstrous monolith undamaged by the falling damps of late; slut-dream i deemed, and damned so it turned out - the lot besodden n' me too it seemed - no courage at all to contend w/ the dripping cliffs - i settled instead for a romp up the retard trail, rope in tail

 

a pleasant rappel it shoulda been, but my belay device turned bitchy, and i tossed it into the trash-heap after - hurk n' jerk n' force-feed, the 'biner all besmirched w/ rope-shakings - a smoke n'a few-fingers on the ledge, then continued on down, the day dying and the golden globe breaking out in bold shafts of light at the last minute - finally at the base, in the dark, i trod along the way w/ bottle n' soaked in the scene so soon to be denied - up the trail at last, i found the preternatural phucks had already posted their signs closing the fucker down!

 

to summer, may it soon come!

 

2/22 - day 6 - calm n' chilly - snow in the trenches of the north side - busted burritoes - bad black-ass coffee - a ringing crescendo of a half-baked hangover - siege tactics - lawn chair - hammering - beer(s) n' satan smoke - red rover red rover - calm at the end of day

 

bryan hanging on the big-green-big-boi

drippy drippy drippy

crept back into the deeps of the glistening cave

 

3/8 - day viii - a pre-pour cascade chevauchee - mike, the jovian giant, rides the road to greet me there - weeds and whimperings - a gift of gods, road-smokes - the sodden trail so soon it climbs - waterfalls past whispering volumes - the cobble-stone cliffs a proper place to puff a butt n' down the dregs of harsh ales - rain upon the return to the road - vivian savaging the scofflaws

 

3/16 - 9th day - a sunday stolt - sad rain predicted, but not so grim it ended - geoff at camas right at the crack of nine, me awoke on the couch, gob-smacked, not a few minutes before - reborn in beer stench and debasement

 

went adventurneering - hiking up to the top, then scrambled down to big trees n' fixed a big long rope to a tree, rapped down, conquered n' crooned, then jugged back up - fun times - the big old log sent down 2 falls ago found all bound-up tight to a tree anchor - mental lines drone over dreary block-land

 

later did some adventure rapping down the west side, then clambered back up the alpine route to 3-tree ledge, finishing w/ a funky-sad rap for geoff back down to the ground

 

4/25-27 - days 10-12 - the long awaited hollabahoo - infernal plans pondered n proceeded upon even as mudder-earth pissed relentlessly all over them - friday mike, geoff n' i hike 6 ropes up to the summit, hop the railing, n' fix from there to the ground - bursts of sunshine here and there - the work quickly over and we head over, swingers-style, 3 of us in 3 cars to discover the whereabouts of the secret rebel base

 

a fine evenign drinking all kinds of things as the rain came and went - yer lebowski lebowski, etc, etc

 

saturday not so terrible at first w/ sun and scudding clouds - strangers assemble - the party grows by leaps and bounds - eventually a few of us head off to jug the lines - some wierd spots here and there and i nearly killed unknown tourists by kicking off a few good sized stones - at the summit i drank a beer than promptly damn-near broke my ankle by turning over on it while walking down the stairs and dodging the tourons - sigh...

 

saturday evening too epic to attempt description - dogs n' kids, raffels, ole'opdycke, speeches and salutations, the savage post-amniotic scene splayed out - rain builds upon rain, the beers go deeper and deeper, and soon the day rode out of me

 

sunday really quite nasty w/ wind and sheets of steel rain - a slow stumble-fuck back to the summit after breaking camp n' making our farewells - felt tempted to turn back from the recovery operation at the moment of truth but luckily geoff dissappeared over the edge and it was too late - not too tough to get it all back, thanks to help from geoff n' dave - strong weather once we hit earth, but then the weekend was over and it was time for wine n' school work n' hbo-fare

 

happy 70th old man

 

may day! #13 for the year (holy sheeit muslims, should i've known that, i'd a been a mit more skert!)

 

lovely wedder, wicked hawt for spring - crunchy moss - many tourons - birds bitching n' circling n' crying all over the place

 

hum along fellow travelers, hum along

 

Stand up, damned of the Earth

Stand up, prisoners of starvation

Reason thunders in its volcano

This is the eruption of the end.

Of the past let us make a clean slate

Enslaved masses, stand up, stand up.

The world is about to change its foundation

We are nothing, let us be all.

This is the final struggle

Let us group together, and tomorrow

The Internationale

Will be the human race.

 

5/7 - #14 - a rare may-day 24-hour wedder-window - bright sunshine n' light wind - the river runs full - lions abound, loll n' leap, embayed, the waves lap over them - damn near cock-blocked by bastard choo-choos way back at the dawn of day

 

5/12 - #15 - piercing sun, a soothing, steady breeze, and balmy skies - no time for cheap heroics, just an hour between bothersome obligations - a quick blitz and off i wandered - beautiful, sloe-eyed ladies on the trail, so very nice

 

5/14 - day sixteen - hell of an evening for a hike, the lot stale and empty near dusk - a bitter day of bickering w/ the man and waging holy jihad on behalf of my perplexed polity - all is fair in love n' hate, no?

 

5/15-6 - days 17-18 - awful bickering w/ vicious bastards across an itty-bitty table followed by lunar ambulations followed by a day of drooling, dumb-founded by dipshits, done at last with a pleasant stroll up a sunny trail into the soothing sky

 

5/20 - number 19 - after strong storms sunday, all is clear and bright and dryish and balmy - a billion boaters sucking up the salmon on the main channel, no doubt the source of the strong salmon stank in the bathroom - the n side in groovy, groovy conditions - peregrines pirouetting n' screeching piss off despite their confusion on which side exactly they have for their private privations - summer's breathe subsuming all

 

5/22 - day 20 - strange storms brewing, vexing vapors rise and seethe at the setting sun - a quick run up the well-worn trail and back for politics n' pissing matches before the working-man's day was even done - a mere month till the sweet solstice, then california dreams and soon that southern bitch will be blossomed-up n' street-legal once more?

 

6/4 - blackjaaaack! - choking, guttering, drowning in my own bile doing battle w/ these bilious bastards - no space to see, no air to breathe - jesus christ man, the weasels have built condos 'round this mother-fucker they've been camped out here so long. fled in horror in the middle of a meeting and slummed me way out, nipping on luke-warm stale keg-beer on the short cruise. a quick rattle on up, sleazy tourists in tattered tee's abiding everywhere. will it never be dawn?

D-Day, 70 years on - Day Double Dos for the Year - geoff rolls into the bk a tad late, all tricked out in his curvaceous corvette, me sucking down rapidly warming swill in the shade and puzzling over my biblical tome regarding the life n' times of that cornelius vanderbilt motherfucker

 

a true rare day, how often do you climb something new at beacon? last year i saw them old fellers working out their labor of love near the spike route and today was finally the day to give it a go - wow, what a wonderfully unusual bit of stone it saunters up - the second pitch the most slab-tacular out at beacon - amazingly crisp and clean rock w/ millions of microscopic curious cross-hatched horizontal lines that make smearing oh-so-sweet - geoff got that lead and suffered for it - i followed and couldn't figure out how not to cheat at one point in wierd pod, feet all askew and off-line

 

we rambled on up to the trail after a sesh at rancho relaxo - those upper pitches so super stupid it's a wonder i do them even once a year - oceans of oak, and me in shorts like i've not an iota of an idea what the fuck i'm at

 

3 days of damned seniors left to suffer through - the rock n' roll types clearing out the pipes and set-ready to start belting out "schooooooooooooool's ooooooooooout foooooor daa suuuuuuuuuummmmmmmer!!!!!!!"

[Jcweinsx]

I led the 2nd pitch of genisis about a week ago. Great line. Thanks to whoever put the bolts in they did a great job. This pitch is sooooo good. Climbing partner and I were stoked to finish out our day on this after iron spike. What is the line right of iron spike like?

[ivan]

it's a bit better than genesis but there both good - a bit harder mayhap - mostly the rock is more interesting, as described - beacon doesn't have much slab climbing, but this new pitch is a distinct aberration.