ivan Posted December 29, 2012 Posted December 29, 2012 Trip: Bacon Wand - - The All Hallowed South-East Corner Date: 12/28/2012 Trip Report: holyfuck, the inaugral tr for the cuntly-columbia gorge forum?!? kevboner got me in the right mode way the fuck back this summer, returning from yosylum as i've had the good fortune to find myself some number of seasons in a row - incessant inanity and mean-spirited insights on the occasion of the summer-opening, me back in a blissed-out state of granite-joy just as the beacon-wand opens - what better way to use his holy-thread then a year-long journal in each visit's happenings, hopefully stripped bare of banality, of the best-meaning but jesus-fuck worst offerings of daily observations? (don't worry, i include them in the appendices below ) but to top-it-the-knob, i tender my final tr of the year as a basis for this worthy-registration! 12/28/2012 - no doubt my last dalliance w/ the bacon wand for two-single-ought-twelve - my 34th Dance of the Dullards in the days of now - a christmas season of cunts-delight, the dim skies and dismal continuous showers of tepid-rain in all directions - fuckall for five-hundred leagues, boxing the bitchy compass... a night of fine closure, clear now in the fast-ascending clouds of alcoholic stupor at 330 in the morning, a freeze-fog outside covering the red-devil in delightful shrouds of mithril, me fur-clad and clattering on a laptop to record it all, surrounded by feral cats camped out in my living room, infelicitous felines... the day dawning on the bofa, the youngest child coughing out the oddest sounds of croup - the afternoon and evening spent conveying Girl Scouts to mcminville for aquatic cavortions mike's at camas well after 9, the moon cloistered behind thin cloud, an unexpected strong wind from the east - giddiness - expectations - fear and lotions? girded n' casting out at the base shortly afore eleven - big rack, big by solo standards, me fresh from the fear of the ruined mayan apocalypse just a week before - the whole cliff just as greasy then as if a greedy girl had hosed it all in ky-jelly tonight was just right - enough clouds to serve the earth as sweet blanket, preventing the brutal descent into arctic-temps, but not so much as to prevent the full-moon shining down on most occasions (though every few minutes the great weight of light sagging out of the scene, the headlamp-less mammal's sudden descent into near-total dark, saved only by the blink of the bonneville dam) dry where dry, ice where damp, and up we went w/o incident i fear for those who fancy snuff-porn before noon - a strange medium i'll confess for such a trip - no pictures would do, so sad - huge moon-dogs circling the ghostly-orb, separated from us by but a handful of water-molecules holding-hands - a stiff breeze, but not so awful as we've experienced in days-gone-by in the foul days of the late bush-administration.... a stop in the calm of the high-trail for the (LEGAL!!!) catching of the breathe on the way down, the Setting It All Straight so critical in cock-eyed endeavors such as this - gear sorting - a whole year of jesus-fuck-this-carabiner-is-mine drama dispensed with - hot toddies n' the dregs of the tobacco, a screw-driver n' a bottle of burgundy in the car for the dismal bending of space to follow camas somewhere after two - an already-forgotten reach from there - the words dispensed with, the night is dying - i'm off to bed! ----------------- a tradition i'd hope to hold to so long as most my teeth are still set firm in my fleshy skull - my various collections of vignettes from the beacon rock climbing season of 2012! 7/13 - a lap on young warriors w/ geoff and a lap (sans cord) w/ geoff n' adam 7/15 - dod's jam w/ the phuzzy 7/17 - solo corner creep in the late evening before jetting off to pdx to pick up my peeps fresh off their wrong coast plane - read a few chapters and sucked down a liter of burgundy at the ledge until it was too dark to read 7/23 - 2 corner laps in a little more than an hour and done in time to get kids to the dentist, then a long walk by waterfalls (even introducing the bastardos to "5150" along the way, just for you, kev 7/26 - cruise'n to young warriors w/ nastia - bit of a scorcher after noon, specially for the devushka clad all in black - shiiiiiity roadwork delays on 14 7/27 - no one bit on the partner offer, so i spent a leisurely mornign w/ the little people - coffee n' bacon n' cats - went out to beacon at 3, uncertain what to do, packed for anything, and decided along the way, in honor of the olympics, to set a goal to climb as many solo laps as possible on the corner before getting back to the house for pizza n' wine w/ the wife in the evening - settled for 4 laps (bacon-flavored half dome day? BFHDD?) - could have done more i reckon, but ran into the company of Known Felons after lap 1 and that took a little bit of the wind out of my sails - did the pleasant last lap w/ denalidave, overladen w/ one beer, me ashamed to have left my gin n' juice in the rig for the celebratory drive home perfect day, weather-wise, compared to yday - overcast, cool, variable winds - stoked to see a 3-some spending a night on ground zero, complete w/ double haul-bags n' ledge(s?) (didn't see room for the 3rd, what horrid price did he have to pay i wonder?) - thought to aid-solo ground zero i had, but they skunked me, and then that bastard timetravel'n'steve took my free 4 sum backup! a pox on all their houses! dave's vid: [video:youtube] 7/28 - warm n' sunny n' breezy - climbed w/ bob n' the phuzzy, both of whom did piss-poor jobs of Minding the Poisons - majestic snow-white n' toffee-brown owl winging about the arena of doom for a good half-hour - dod's to top-rope windsurfer - pumped stupid after that and the accumulation of yday - then free 4 all via the retard right start - snuff-porn wannabe free solo for 40 fucking feet, foot-stacking in constrictions n' lie-backing to get there, but a good gut-laugh, au-chevel style, at the pillar-top - jim showed late, grumpy to be tobacco-short as he tempts fate to quit - nose-trainers doing fine big-wall machinations, swinging from groudn-zero to flying swallow to practice their pendulums - dave n' crackman n' kyle flitting about - camas days clusterfucking the commute on back home! 7th day at beacon this season 7/31 - last of july - 8 days of beacon rock climbing this month cruise'n'to right right gull n' then jills thrill w/ miker - bright, breezy n' cold - perfect! booty on jills - beers at the endless construction stops on the way back - how i long for a cigarette... 8/22 - 3 week beacon-hiatus - i'm in danger of losing my BRCA membership - been cavorting w/ the fam in colorado and at the oregon coast, coincidentally during the bitter depth of that 100+ pdx heatwave when the beach temps were damn near in the 40s each night - managed a dragontail clamber in thare too the phuzzy made a public-transit trip to rendezvous w/ me in damned washoughal after a wicked reintroduction to work for me at the crack of dawn - climbed young warriors - a baker's half-dozen of wing enabled wave riding wacky-boys out beyond the island - elk herds grazing - good times! closed out the evening w/ little wing to the 1st pitch of right gull and then a sad attempt at tr'ing the off-width on wrong gull that got clubbed-on-the-head at just the right hour 9/5 - quick solo creep - tinywing (half little wing/half corner p1) to the corner to stoner ledge to young warriors - kenny n' ole'larry (thought he quit climbing?!) n' buddy dan at stoner ledge - 10th day at beacon this season. 9/6 - two solo corner laps, one w/ arndt (that is how that old boy spells his name, right?) while he was waiting for the "red ant" to arrive - horrified to find my good name impugned by certain unnamed low-lifes up on the little people ledge - seems they think i've been drinking their cached beer - despite my innocence, i nonetheless searched desperately to find said stranded beer so i could "protect" it better, but no dice steve, yet again, climbing w/ random cuties, this one crushing on warriors and jills - gotta love an understanding wife! 9/7 - beacon hat-trick, 3 days in a row - 1 solo lap on the regular old corner, then one link-up i hadn't done before: tinywing => corner => hidden treats => corner => young-warriors => downclimb corner => uprising - 5 laps in 3 days 9/13 - lonely lap today, not a soul on the rock or on the trail, just a big, big wind, a shallow river, and a bone-dry bird-sanctuary across the way - thought i saw ole'boy dave's car in the lot so i packed not 1 but 2 tall-boys of pbr in the hopes of balancing out the debt, but nary a sight of him along the way - so sad, i had to swig'em both down as i was afeared to leave one on the ledge as a sign there warned of wanton russian-fuck-types showing up to swill'em away... 9/14 - 14th day at beacon this season - hardly a breathe of a breeze, odd after the howling gale of the day before - a peck of peregrines and a pretty phat pack of elk, dispersed upon the island and more thickly about the crick leading off towards bonneville - wheezy bugles and high-piercing shrieks - the powderhund on rehab on his mangled meniscus - cruise'n to jill's thrill - who/when the fuck cut out the sling and rings on the grassy ledges rap? beers and bullshit'n at the base - a heavy scent of fire in the air, like the memory of yosemite and sun-dappled mania - glorious sunset - the summer is banned and abased, fading fast in the fuck-fury dark of eight 9/16 - my first partner for sunday bailed on thursday, then my second on saturday, so, in the spirit of third-time's-the-charm, i settled for meself solo on this fine sabbath day woke of 8 w/ the sun amplifying the undigested wine in my brain-box and biding me rise and begin the purification ritual - half my gear's been building up in the trunk of the red-devil, but i thought i shoudl make an occasion of it and go aid-solo something serious - big haulbag filled of all, i stumbled to the car w/ my gear and w/ the best breakfast i could lash together in my stertorous stupor - ended up being two pale ales and a mouthful of week old pad thai, backed up w/ a duo of sad camels arrived in the lot to calm winds and calmer crowds - just didn't feel like strapping on the fifi, so reckoned to solo a corner lap first then get to it, but a few feet into the lap got to thinking back to july and the 4 laps in an evening i'd done on the occasion of the olympic kick-off - thought i oughta improve on that personal record and set the bar at six? 3 laps in the can and not a soul sighted - dripping sweat in the substantial heat, dawn just a memory by then as i'd arrived after 9 and the incipient breeze nothing more than a meteorological cock-tease - a hot glare and a heavy air christians by the holy-fuck load cluster-fucking the trail - 4 full fucking tourbuses of the little fellows, bedecked w/ their goddamn savior's gibbot, which their leader hauled up in half-carries for the great glory of dog - "aren't you folks commanded to observe the sabbath and eschew heathen labor" i queried? led by laywers, his comment immediate the product of parsing his puzzling text: "today we do His work" rounded the corner for lap 4 to find frazzled rick rigged up for a rope-solo and it didn't take long to reduce him to the dark side - we did a pair of simul solos, the first finding old boy w/ eyes as wide as irish butterballs passed a lovely lady w/ the slab well in hand, half-annoyed no doubt to weather our "helpful" comments - i can't complain about standing in line, mid-pitch, w/ such a luscious view... rick fucked-off in the fullness of time and i had but one more to get my 6, but being done w/ it, felt a prime # more the thing - rick said he knew our old boy pink had once done 8, and my heart was half-set in the spirit of competition, but then surely the cut of my jib could never be so beguiling as our dear boy in his littlewing pic - came down for a 7th lap then and sent it soon enough, my head spinning, my mind twisting and wondering where it was exactly i was again in this ever-repeating scenario - coulda managed another 2 i reckon, there was sun enough, but i thought i'd wander on back to stoke the home-fires and finish some more of this never ending chicken-coop work the wife embarked on - a fine meal of eggs n' fresh peppers n' frank's sauce, finished off w/ a gullet-full of fine wine and a gut laugh over gross humor n' now it's time for school work and an early nap! 7 laps/day - here's to 9 by the end of october? managing 3 laps per 2 hours when there's no distractions to be had, so imagine i could manage the whole shit-eria in 6 hours and call the whole thing something like 4000+ feet of climbing/scrambling/moss-hiking? 9/18 - afterschool corner lap - hot stone even in the shade - jim n' adam on the ledge - casual conspiracy chatting - thoroughly tired of construction on 14 by now... 9/19 - had only an hour of time to play between the end of school and the start of back-to-school night and union rabble-rousing, but managed to storm out to beacon at warp speed and do the first lap i've ever thought to actually time - 32:10 (dog measured), parking lot to parking lot - ran into an old student on the run down - claims to work at a pizza joint these days and sure looks like it 9/21 - sick all day, if not as a dog, then at least as a puppy - snot n' sneezing - still, the last day of summer.... - mist-drops on the windshield after school, should i risk the drive? - a barren lot, the rock to meself - cruising to the corner - boooooooooty! 10 laps this week already, holy shit, at this rate in a year, if i could beg off rain, peregrines n' whatnot i could have 500! 9/25 - on the rebound after a week of hacking snotsicles out of my lungs great asgolf-balls - 2 laps up the corner - steve n' sal n' tim n' his special lady friend sharing the route - laughs n' hijinx - bellows of beasts out on the beatific isle 9/27 - my 20th day at beacon this season - 2 solo laps - not a soul on the southside nor more than 2 on the trail best times today: base to snag ledge: 2:00 to tree ledge: 4:40 to grassy ledges: 8:20 to uprising railing: 15:00 can't imagine me ever doing this better than 13:00 tops? 9/28 - 21st day at beacon since the opening - full moon and fucking mad rager up the rock in the rude-light - bob n' me had a run on jill's thrill after school, then crawled up the corner w/ the better part of a 6-pack - dusk by tree ledge - to little people by braille - high times n' hollering at the dusky moon - crazy smoke-cloud glitter off the river - clambered off sans headlamps - how much longer shall this indian summer insist? 9/29 - wife problems: full-moon free-solo sans-head-lamp! geoff n' arlo as helpful alarm clocks 10/1 - indian summer, a big old warm breeze like the Breath of Dog - 2 laps on the corner, then home in time to get the boy to kajukenbo. 10/3 - jesus, warm still outdoors but the Big Wind of Winter was on beacon today! roars n' lulls, catspaws and catastrophes playing out on the columbia - nary a soul to be seen, south side or north - a simple corner lap w/ cruising n' hidden treats n' the top of young warriors 10/4 - 3 of 4 october days climbing so far 25 days at beacon since the opening - possible to get 50 solo laps between july and november (31 so far by my count)? 'bone n' mike in the lot - hustled to climb cruising 'fore them to avoid treating them to snuff porn - jim n' sal in the lot on the way down, fresh from washing the way to the south-west of the evil poison oak - to wolfrock 2morrow for the weekend! 10/10 - 6 days since last i'd climbed at beacon, my longest dry spell in a month? barad dohl (!) and cheeky sheenanigans over the weekend, then high-tech dentistry and parent conferences keeping me away... 2 laps on the corner, car to car in 57 minutes - most enjoyable solo yet of cruising, all movement and no pauses, maybe 3 minutes total? 10/12 - my 38th birthday, and the day off to boot! the fall weather here finally, and no bacon-scrambling to be had therefore, so off i shot w/ kid#1 for a father/daughter trail hike, equipped w/ a mighty golf-umbrella and tori amos on the music box - our ascent complete, we winged it back to camas for a leisurely brunch at the lakeside chalet 10/18 - days of rain followed by a few of fine sun - storm-torn clouds aloft for the past 2 sunups - brilliant fall - done thursday early w/ work and raged out to the bacon-wand w/ a brown-paper bag of pbr's - steve's rape-van in the lot - roared down for a first lap up the corner, passing a boyfriend/girlfriend team - back down in the lot and it was raining cops - not surprisingly, opdycke was between them all - surprisingly he wasn't handcuffed to a bumper freaked out by the free-fire zone n' all those fretting fuckers w/ zipguns, i caught wind of steve-o already having hucked it down the trail after me to have a lap and hustled off to find'em - had a gaff n' gut-laugh down by the base, discovering he'd neglected a cord and so set off for a chicken-wing lap alone w/ a plan to meet him again afterwards - back again we watched dark set in and he talked me into some adventure rappelling down the west side - i zoomed up the corner a third time in the Deep Gloaming and arrived at the start of the raps not 30 seconds before steve showed up w/ 2 ropes and an extra headlamp for me - holy shit, gotta get after that synchronicity!!! so....3 laps for this day...can't imagine there's too many such days left this year 10/27 - fahq'n boatloads of sodden beatards at the bacon-wand this morning - arrived early w/ beacon ben n' got in a half-jerk-off lap, up the corner to young warriors where we ran out of time and had to rap to make the what-have-you - mega-serious terra-forming followed by grilled flap-jacks n' the like - facile conversations w/ fresh-faced chicas, veggie burgers n' fear of the incessant damp pouring down all about the half-frozen a-frame - a half-pack sucked down w/ a half-rack of half-decent beer - ambulations in the awe-inspiring great goddamn deluge - a work party overdue, damn near likely dead - drinks in their honor and some spare parts found rattling around - the day dead and done and i alone cast off to cavort on home through sheets of sleazy cheese n' easy wine 11/11 - my 30th day climbing at beacon since the sun of summer, and damn far from that it were - broken social connections, a total failure to rendezvous w/ the 'hound, so i shot out to beacon alone to see if he and his wouldn't eventually get it all sorted out (we planned to do the dynamite cave soon thereafter) a solo lap while waiting - frozen hands - slime snot suppurating out of many a rocky orifice - on the trail down met the boys hiking up, n' bryan and i headed off to do another, roped, lap sleet n' sheets of sleazy rain for much of the rest of the day, snow shitting out of the sky at the conclusion of the cave - cans of pabst n' pbr n' all sorta things to chuckle over deep in the foreboding bowels of the earth 11/16 - blustery in the evening, poor portents for a weekend spent in outdoor pursuits - a storm brewing, fierce and soon to follow the setting of the sun, but time enough for a lap in the damp, breezy, chilly dusk - chicken-wing => corner => hidden treats => corner HOW YOU KNOW ITS WINTER AT BEACON: 1. on a friday afternoon you don't just have the corner to yerself, nor the whole rock, but what appears to be the entirety of the damn park, including the river! 2. all the chalk's washed off the holds, so ya gotta actually look around a bit... 3. your solo options suddenly seem awful limited, as cruise'n and any part of young warriors doesn't even appear on the radar 4. kenny's food bucket on the party ledge has turned into a foul slurry of what-the-fuck 5. you ain't seen jim in a looooong while 6. all the elk have fuckered off the island, the herons are hell n' gone, and the peregrines have a prissy air about them 7. on the rare occasions you climb indoors, you gotta re-tighten all yer shoelaces 'cuz you've been climbing in thick-socks since ever-fuck 8. you actually can hear the nagging voice of your wife ("you're an asshole") when having a quick lap after-work in the dark 9. getting even a single lap in after work seems a god-send to dispell the grim demons of Seasonal Affective Disorder 10. the fucking wdot cock-suckers FINALLY appear to be bringing their goddamn roadwork on 14 to a head, and the sorry white-bitches who've been holding signs all summer are now burka-safe under 10 bundles of warm whateverthefuck 11/27 - sweeping up steve's sleazy leavings i suppose! rid of work at the waning of the day on one of these short pre-solstice afternoons - rounded up miker soon after the ringing of the bells - swooped out, through the great gales of the gorge, the bitter breath of beacon, all girded out for a breeze up the corner in full battle-gear under the light of a full moon - tree-ledge at the turning of the night, full dark on grassy ledges, and a god-damned great big-old bag of gusty wind from there up the ridge, the very real danger of a packstrap putting out an eye any moment you boyz musta really needed that chalk on a blistering day such as this! 12/21/12 - if the mayan motherfuckers were gonna be my end, where better to make my final banal stand than the fabulous bacon-wand? dank, tepid, oppressive parking lot - a bad beacon BM, like so many i've been blessed w/ before a survey of the base complete, geoff n' i thought the corner might go - after the first pitch took more time to finish than an entire lap in summertime, the wind picked up, the rain came down, and off we rapped, but not before taking in a strange scene - a flock of seagulls out on the swollen columbia, swirling about a sea-lion, alternately landing and leaping back up as he lashed around at them - what could it mean? an aid session on wrong gull and w/ that our short first day of winter was done hopefully not my last visit of the year, but the best laid plans of mice n' 'mericans... Gear Notes: Big Head Approach Notes: out 14, back 14 Quote
matt_warfield Posted December 29, 2012 Posted December 29, 2012 Always good to get a TR from the Hunter S. Thompson of this site. Happy New Year. Quote
dorianlee Posted December 31, 2012 Posted December 31, 2012 Not sure what it means either but I've seen the same seagull/sea lion absurdity on the ocean. Looked like the sea lion was damn trying to eat one, and the birds were just jollying about in fun. Quote
ivan Posted December 31, 2012 Author Posted December 31, 2012 i figured the flock's tempting the sealion to eat one of them so the rest of bastards can make snacks of their buddy's crumbs Quote
billcoe Posted December 31, 2012 Posted December 31, 2012 Was out today doing a lap with the boy and we watched this show. I think whats happening in this dance is that the Sea Lions are munching salmon and steelhead. They come blasting out of the water and slam the fish down to stun it, the gulls swing down to steal any morsel or strip of flesh that gets detached off the fish. Pretty sure.....although they in turn get snuffed by Oregon Fish and wildlife with much less fanfare. They're pretty voracious. Saw Timetraveler and Big Wall Rick formerly from BZcorners out there yesterday. Screwed up and hiked down with the pup to caretake, got invited for a lap and either had to toss the garbage out the pack to make room for the dog or abandon the thing. Which I considered and realized that that wouldn't fly with the wife since the dog is hers. ps, whomever got the branches we'd cut and left earlier and left on the trail near the top, good job and thanks. I had my Metolius haul sack, hiked all the way up to the top to get that stuff, and forgot to empty the trash out which I'd already picked up from below mostly water bottles tossed off from the hiking trail), so there wasn't much room left. Quote
ivan Posted December 31, 2012 Author Posted December 31, 2012 after 3 weeks of bastard-wedder, everyone's getting sum bacon! Quote
stevetimetravlr Posted December 31, 2012 Posted December 31, 2012 Sweet bacon it was with some horseradish sauce Ivan. It was wildly snowing big flakes for a while when we topped out, very cool. Glad you came back and got some Bill. Quote
pcg Posted December 31, 2012 Posted December 31, 2012 whomever got the branches we'd cut and left earlier and left on the trail near the top, good job and thanks. I had a blustery wet day off and was able to trick a buddy into a "fun adventure in the Gorge". Vivian supplied two wheelbarrows and we made a mad dash to the top, followed by a crazy harrowing trip down with overloaded top-heavy wheelbarrows. The loads were so large we had to alternately back down and then go forwards because we couldn't turn at the switchbacks. Great fun was had by all. Quote
stevetimetravlr Posted December 31, 2012 Posted December 31, 2012 PCG. ON behalf of all Beacon Rock climbers, let me say thank you for your efforts! Nice. Quote
ivan Posted December 31, 2012 Author Posted December 31, 2012 woulda been so much kewler to have built the mother-of-all-bonfires on the slumit, cooked some dogs on it, then set up a deli-stand for the flocking tourons Quote
kevbone Posted December 31, 2012 Posted December 31, 2012 Any pictures Ivan? I would to read your TR but it is written in a weird language. Quote
ivan Posted December 31, 2012 Author Posted December 31, 2012 hard to take pictures at night they ain't got a google translator for kid-speak? if you speak swahili, try this version? holyfuck, tr inaugral kwa jukwaa cuntly-Columbia korongo!?? kevboner got me katika njia ya haki mode kutomba nyuma hii majira ya joto, kurudi kutoka yosylum kama nimepata bahati ya kupata mwenyewe baadhi ya idadi ya misimu katika mstari - incessant inanity na ufahamu maana-spirited juu ya tukio la majira- kufungua, mimi nyuma katika hali blissed-nje ya granite furaha-tu kama beacon-wand kuufungua - ni njia bora ya kutumia yake-takatifu thread kisha journal ya mwaka mzima katika yametukia kila ziara ya, hopefully walimvua tupu banality, ya bora-maana lakini jesus-kutomba mbaya sadaka ya uchunguzi ya kila siku? (Usijali, i pamoja nao katika viambatisho chini) lakini kwa juu-ni-Knob-, i zabuni tr yangu ya mwisho wa mwaka kama msingi huu usajili anastahili-! 2012/12/28 - hakuna shaka dalliance yangu ya mwisho w / wand Bacon kwa mbili-moja-wanapaswa-kumi - Dance yangu 34 ya Dullards katika siku ya sasa - msimu wa Krismasi cunts furaha, anga dim kunjana kuendelea manyunyu ya mvua tepid-katika pande zote - fuckall kwa ligi 5-100, ndondi dira bitchy ... usiku wa kufungwa faini, wazi sasa katika mawingu haraka-wakipanda ya usingizi pombe saa 330 asubuhi, kufungia-ukungu nje kufunika shetani nyekundu-katika shrouds kupendeza ya mithril, mimi manyoya-ilipo na clattering juu mbali ya kurekodi yote, umezungukwa na paka feral kambini katika sebule yangu, infelicitous felines ... siku dawning juu ya BofA, mtoto mdogo kukohoa nje sauti oddest ya croup - alasiri na jioni alitumia kuwasilisha Scouts Msichana kwa mcminville kwa cavortions majini mike ni katika camas vizuri baada ya 9, mwezi ilibuni nyuma ya wingu nyembamba, zisizotarajiwa nguvu upepo kutoka mashariki - zulizuli - matarajio - hofu na lotions? kujifunga n 'kufukuza katika wigo muda mfupi hapo juu kumi na moja - kubwa rack, kubwa kwa viwango vya solo, mimi safi kutoka kwa hofu ya Apocalypse vikaharibika Mayan tu wiki kabla - cliff lote tu kama greasy basi kama msichana alikuwa na tamaa hosed ni wote katika ky jelly- usiku wa leo ilikuwa haki tu - mawingu kutosha kutumikia nchi kama blanketi tamu, kuzuia kushuka kikatili ndani ya Arctic temps-, lakini sio sana kama ya kuzuia full-moon kuangaza chini kwenye hafla wengi (ingawa kila dakika chache uzito mkubwa wa mwanga sagging nje ya eneo, mamalia headlamp-chini ya ghafla kushuka ndani ya giza karibu-jumla, kuokolewa tu kwa blink wa bwawa Bonneville) kavu ambapo kavu, barafu ambapo uchafu, na hadi sisi akaenda w / o tukio i hofu kwa wale ambao dhana ugoro-porn kabla ya adhuhuri - kati ya ajabu mimi itabidi kukiri kwa ajili ya safari hiyo - hakuna picha bila kufanya, hivyo kusikitisha - kubwa mwezi -mbwa circling ghostly-orb, waliojitenga nasi na ila konzi ya maji-molekuli kuikopesha mikono - breeze ngumu, lakini si hivyo kutisha kama tumekuwa na uzoefu katika siku-wamekwenda-na katika siku mchafu wa kichaka marehemu -utawala .... kuacha katika utulivu wa high-uchaguzi kwa ajili ya kuambukizwa (LEGAL!!) ya kupumua juu ya njia ya chini, Kuweka Ni zote Sawa hivyo muhimu katika juhudi jogoo-eyed kama hii - gear kuchagua - mwaka mzima wa jesus-kutomba-hii-carabiner-ni-yangu kuigiza iligawanywa - moto toddies n 'sira ya tumbaku, bisbis n' chupa ya burgundy katika gari kwa bending mabaya ya nafasi ya kufuata camas mahali fulani baada ya wawili - kufikia tayari-wamesahau kutoka hapo - maneno iligawanywa, usiku ni kufa - Nina mbali na kitanda! Quote
ivan Posted December 31, 2012 Author Posted December 31, 2012 anybody want to get out for a quick fix the first day of the year tomorrow? Quote
ivan Posted January 5, 2014 Author Posted January 5, 2014 another year of beacon summaries - 59 total days, a meager average of but one day a week flogging the beacon-wand - 54 solo laps total - not too many new beacon routes for me this year, just grunge book and the full wild turkeys - thanks to all the fine folks who tied in w/ me: pat, mike, geoff, bryan, ben, bob, tim, kenny, dave, kyle, steve, rick, adam and all you other mother-fuckers i done forgot to a better 2014! THE YEAR OF 2013 1/1/13 - day#1 - curiously cold and icy and windblown lap on the corner w/ that powderhound chap, clad in a goddamn gordon's fisherman jumpsuit w/ tight matching-colored gear - wondrous ice-curtain on the slab pitch, under the roofs, and frostcicles on tree ledge - a frozen gully choked w/ gravel up on grassy ledge - sand-storms out on the island, carrying grit all the way across the water to the docks - the boat landing slammed w/ waves, breaking across the ice-clad pier - many tourons on the trail - a fine, quick lap - the first day of Beatardia 2013! 1/12 - day#2 - strange day - freezing fog on the wakeup, car shackled in ice at the dawn - geoff at the burger king - high-speed jet through the quiet lull of the gorge, the road dry n' gentle - beacon becalmed, all door discipline disregarded - a great gut-laugh at the peach allah had gracefully cast into our laps - i get all the leads down low - consensus conditions S5 (our ascent of 12/21/12 in recent memory a retard S9, damn near pegging the limit of the possible) - challenging lead conditions for sure still, with sheet-freeze all over, slowly peeling off in the relatively tropical conditions - runnels of run-off bubbling underneath the ice - the sun bursting through the clear air - rumbles of gunfire, pap-pap-pap-pap, a militia-action for certain on the oregon shores - slip-sliding away all over from grassy ledges up - glimpse of the bonneville crick draining into the river, all jizzum-milky, the vas defernes of the columbian cock- exited the long way, the Great Coward wending all to Starboard where he could - a walk down all bathed in rays of a riotous golden orb - jim at the base w/ an old boy - oaths and auguries, threats and Aggravated Assaults considered - an easy orbit back through the steaming warmth of the gorge-winter disbanded, if only for a bit 1/22 - #3 - annealed by two recent days at smith in the Big Fridge of the bivy site, mornings traversing the phantasmagorical formations of frozen sludge, mike and i had an evening run up the bacon-wand in a big olde freshet of gaudy coldness a big dry had beaten off the vast damp of days gone by - barely any ice on route - half the digits of my right foot right numb by grassy ledges, i unshod and rubbed hardly any life back into them - toes throb as i type booty nut on p2, should the original owner wish to claim it from a massive pile of such things i have growing in my garage not even a fort-night of fucknoodling about the sunny-side left - full moon fever this weekend for any half-wit warriors who might feel the urge to come w/... 2/2 - day #4 - ground hogz day, a swift demise to deadly winter predicted - 'twas the day after a wander up the hood-wand w/ an interesting feller to dispatch the doldrum of the beacon s side closure - ya never stop learning in the mountains, this time 2 Ore-e-gone Snowboard'nBoyz taught me how to inhale green weeds through green apples using nothing more than a glorious bright winter sun and a magnifying glass - a good invention for the stiff breezes off an open glacier - much thanks for them that rock the Van Damme stone soup w/ geoff today - despite the distinct sense of early spring setting in as the Great Hamster foresaw, it was a mort cold and savage breezy - geoff did p1, and i managed to mangle meself on p2 - found a fixed nut at the start of the eyebrow traverse and was hanging out on it for awhile, had just plugged the next cam in when suddenly i was falling - fell/slid into a slab, instinctively grabbing an edge to stop the fall, sheared off the flesh of my pinky-tip and sprung the sprockets in the other fingers' knuckles, then went heads'o'er'tits and continued on down, getting entangled in the rope running up through the gear and ultimately arresting hanging upside down looking straight at the olde boye, who looked frankly startled blood pouring from the flensed n' flapping finger, i wrapped my balaclava about it n' took stock - had a good gut laugh upon recalling that last time i climbed on this side, last spring, i'd ended up in the e.r. too - maybe i'm just not getting the message? geoff was my hero - not only did he finish the pitch, he also figured out how, after 10 minutes, to get my damn knot untied by pounding on it w/ a jug - the big breeze blew itself out as dejected would-be hiking trail ascenders milled about the parking lot and i howled at the sky in mock musical appreciation - the climb done, we went off, each to his saturday night debaucheries and me to keen my wound w/ wanton drunkenness 4/25 - day 5 - holy shee-it muslims, it's been 2 months - lovely spring day - many olde boyes humping the o-zone on the way out - on the north side, the sun peaking over, one hand washes the other, i fear nothing - 3 peregrines screeching n' flopping about - green grass - crisp n' crunchy moss - had time to stop by and yack-yack w/ jim n' sal n' steve n' wes n' a whole motley crew of misfits n' misogynistic fucks on the way back - did a couple solo laps on the jacobs ladder and drank some beers, then boogied on back home for "house of cards" w/ the wifey jesus-h-christ, why are they doing more construction on the 14?!? 4/30 - beacon day 6 for the year - only 2 days at the baconwand this month, but spring seems to be here fo'shiz, even if today it was right blustery and overcast - scrambly, scrambly on the n side for a while, then a satisfying hike to the summit - the 70th anniversary of an intelligence coup - "mincemeat has been swallowed" - peregrines apparent from the uprising exit, swooping and screeching and having a ball it looked - kenny in the lot, horrifyingly still set in his hate-tobacco way, but w/ rainier-beer as always 5/2 - day 7 - all my pardners bail - the pearl is in the river - john has a long mustache - freedom is slavery, war is peace!!! 5/4 - international star-wars day, may the fourth be with you beatard day 8 for 2013 - stoned stupor w/ bryan n' bob - bryan styles following p1 and leads p2 almost all clean - breezy n' balmy - eyes scuppered w/ dust-scum as i type - stooooked for a fine day in the sun - olde boys climbing below us on the spike route, a fine view from the phone booth - miker stops by for a chat even - summer's upon us! 5/6 - day #9 - afternoon sprint up the sun-baked monolith after union meetings and whatnot - pilgrims at dawn - days gone by and dead men ghosts - great gashes in the highway - asphalt scars and concrete wars - the red devil turns over 190k even as the cd player craps in the bed, carrying nico blue into the way blue yonder - the pearl is in the river 5/8 - beatard day 10 of the year - jesus christ on a cum-stained cushioned couch, this'er fine weather just won't fucking quit! out to slouch and lounge around the bacon-wand once more, scrambly-scrambly here and there along the north wall - figure its about time to scoot up the spike route sans rope i reckon - on up to the slumit in rude circuitous style, but all the beauty on the scamper back down - a buxom couple encountered cruising on up the packinko-portion of the trail, dressed appropriate for a warm day - i cast down mine eyes, unworthy as i am, only to be brought up sharp by a strange question from the sultry lassie - a great gaping grin, "oh no, heaven's no, how could you think that and who might you be" - claimed to know me and my sorcerous ways, but most surely she must mistake me for some other beatard cunt? "you were that guy guzzling boxed wine and chain-smoking camels last summer!" - goddammit, i must stop meeting ladies of quality in my long aestival blacked-out ambulations, it augers poor for my alternate-reality amors! "AF is having problems w/ its fresh-water condensers" 5/10 - day 11 - linked strong arms w/ der phuzzy, all phresh from phucking himself good n' proper last burn'n'man, flensed scars from incisions all about his satellite-parts - to the n side we did fly, me w/ the big wall dumpster full of wine n' hammers n' what have you...beers n' butts at the base - the spike route ensconced in scum n' villainy - we scamper up the right side first, when ole'jim w/ a jingus-voice arrived n' whisper-hollered up at us - to the tree n' the site of new natural destruction wrought all around, stone-fall n' swathes of moss scoured off in flight - we rap back to the big boy for bitter conversation and big Olde Tymes - intolerance for them a week earlier w/ their wire-brushes - gut laughs n' tyranny gestated - adam n' i up genesis to the tree again as the sun glows low - i above that, but bailing on a bolt too steep to suss out in the gloaming - the base again, shade-slumming w/ pall malls n' precious beer w/o end - the stumble-fuck in the dark, the way-back-bent in style - departure n' parting - kevbone no doubt kluster-fucked, i conklude 5/11 - a dozen days so far - 5 days this week - junuary kicked square in the nuts, but waiting in the wings it seems - good thing really, i'm on the verge of tweaking out my fingers already - dogs in my dreams, feeding on my feet - terror at daybreak, broken in the bone yard - the ringing of bells at all hours, the horror of home-coming gone wrong - dust, dust, dust - the bloody angle when the walls fell - spotsylvania on a warm spring evening - they sing the body electric, and then they too Pass Beyond 5/14 - lucky #13 - gray and gaunt at the dawn, dim-minded and mopey - when the world dies in an orgasm of heavenly-fire, how i fucking hope it's a tuesday, and early in the morning to boot, to spare me the whole gory goddamn details of the day - tuesday, the red-haired stepchild of the torrid week - hitler was conceived on a tuesday - it's true, you can google that shit man sun breaks around noon, life reviving, rock drying, seniors shuffle in and out in a hyperstatic hepped-up euphoric hangover - the red devil galloping east through the gorge, growling at these goddamn men in their machines gouging out the concrete and showering everything in gravel - the tyranny inherent in giving any man a blaze-orange vest and sign, too gross to contemplate in the golden sunshine searing through my senses RIP william fetterman, you awful fucker - "give me 80 men and i can ride through the whole sioux nation" - yeah, how'd that one work for ya, son? 5/20 - day 14 - a week of piss wedder, sunday's window spent wrangling kidz and wrestling w/ the garden n' chores n' what-have-you - union bidness at the close of day, my wits as always confounded n' humbled by the human machinery of government made flesh - the ghost of winston smith haunts me, but it's a special merry kind of fool who can't make lemonade out of a luscious afternoon of sun and rushing warm air gusting down the gorge - get on your fucking horse, dr rick marshall! kenny's rig in the lot, him and sneezy-jim already up the spike route i reckon - i settle for a sleazy saunter up the big rock, lost in the gauzy thoughts gamboling through my thick head - the moon waxes great, will the wedder-gods set me up a solid? fosters on the falling back, cops holed up n' counting donut-holes at cape horn - thank christ i don't have a cigarette to shit on this wondrous scene 5/31 - day 15, 9 dayz this gentle may - heartbreak for days gone by - memorial day weekend at tieton a near total bust - communiques pist upon for tr's w/o pixels - a week with pouring rain and occasional piercing sun w/o rainbows ain't seen mike since a far long time it seems - set out in the afternoon for a ramble up the spike route, him not having had it he said - the base gross n' baking - thick drip and damp on the rock like it'd been sprayed w/ horse-semen - genesis after nearly shitting a kitten on the klutchy-klutchy start - mike made p2 not so sad, but like me needed to stand on the anchor bolts whilst thrutch-fucking into the danky mcdankerson pod there dug leading the 3rd pitch spike-part proper, but this time w/ a stout old black cock of static death to bat-man on up the slab beerz n' gut-laughing n' music up in the woods - mike does p4 and dislodges a big old panel to come whiffling down my ways - i do the last bit up to the trail wading through thick-glades of oak, oily and fresh and full of fear bongos at the summit, guitars n' young ones yodeling - jesus-harold-christ, children I Know up there doing god know's what - ruins my summit celebration, but what can you do - wizened age equals patience equals wisdom? rolling rock n' reefers on the ramble on down - the new Man meandering around, tending the meters in the lot - don't seem like too fearsome a feller... "something seems wrong w/ our bloody ships today!" 6/3 - day 16 - sweet green first peaking from the new berms of the road-cut west of ozone - a throaty breeze when work is spent - the day beams brightly, i jet down the well-worn highway - apples n' ass-ended hits n' horrid cigarettes - jimbo in the house, somewhere high up the hell-side, waging war on moss i'll warrant w/ that nefarious Other Feller - a raucous ramble up the boring old way - teens on the summit w/ their elders, teeming w/ the airs of methadonia unleashed - tails grown tepid, they rocket down the rock to the grinding of gears, knees shivering in the sea-gale "and, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright; The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light, And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout; but there is no joy in Beatardia, the south side is still closed out" d-day - b-day plus 16 for me - machines shitting out soil on the road cut - long lines of traffic - sweating in the sun - a book and a beer for the beacon run - trains rumbling - falcons screeching - shade and wind - the island in the grips of the Drowned God - sweet tension released in seconds, the searing heat of summer upon us, the seniors soon to be flown and my professional sun setting 6/17 - #18 - grass bowing gently in the slight gusts of the western gorge - cool and sunny, scraps of clouds here and there - the highway gloriously free of frenetic machines fouling the thoroughfare - hawks and gulls hollering - hordes of dim-wits dashed all over the trail - the Usual Suspects - the Siegfried Oath issued all over again, the same all ways and in every weather - one day of classes left, the solstice hard upon us, sweet Summer is feeling rather tipsy and falling out of her panties in her haste - the Time is Right, my brothers "well, i got in a quibble, shot a door - i'm reading the bible by a 40 watt bulb - what price freedom? that is my rub well i sleep like a baby with the snakes n' the bugs" 7/31 - day 19 - first street legal day on the riverside in a rare ould time - mike's at 7 in the morning mist - bleary eyed, jesus christ, i'll be back at work in 4 weeks - knees too weary to start on cruising, we start up the corner and i somehow pinch a nerve in my back - electric lights dance when i move my head, so i learn to climb w/o looking anywhere 8/10 - XX pro anno diem - whiskey-sick at 7 a.m. - rough roll out of bed, down the steps and out the door - pat snoring on the couch - did i really smoke my fist-full of smokes in 30 minutes last night? geoff @ the b.k. - cruis'n n' warriors n' right gull - choppers landing on the wildlife reserve, ferrying in fucking wind-boarders - dick synonym for the day: "snatch-ratchet" - long drives off the land of the little people, thank you mysterious stranger - old larry for fucks sake rapping in for an evening alone - pbr's n' passing showers on the way back 8/20 - day 21 - beaconben at the b.k. past dawn - lonely morning at beacon, the rock to ourselves - dodd's jam to big ledge, then ben did a tr-lap on blood, sweat n' jizzum as i wallowed in bird-filth (do them damned peregrines suffer from perrenial bladder infections or do they just binge'n'purge on peptobismal? the pink-hue to their ubiquitous turds is disconcerting)- topped out to trail on dastardly, then a run to the skamania mart for burritos n' beacon-rock brand beer - beerz in the shade by the boat-ramp, then back to the rock for a hybrid corner/warriors lap - international bring-yer-hawt-girlfriend to the crag day, w/ a saucy-shiela the lady in question along w/ her aussie-blokefriend - the boyfriend and our respective wives being but 3 obstacles in our path to awesomeness, that and i suppose also my plug-ugliness and the fact that ole'ben's so gawd-damned raytarded if he get's dropped on his head one more time he'll be eating applesauce from plastic spoons the rest of his life phrase of the day, from the burrito ingredients: "intensified soy oil" first i've seen of the elk today - them high-lonesome fuck-me-now bugles but days away 8/21 - #22 - moonlight ascent - tvash n' i rally at mike's in twilight camas after each enduring a hard days labor on our abodes, i sun-stroked n' wobbly from shoveling dirt all day - the moon gloaming through the gauzy sheets of smoke straggling through the gorge - fire-fucked, hazy light, like a septic bandage slapped across the lunar face, leaky and pus-red orange - the corner in t-shirts, hardly a breath of wind - kenny appears out of the heavens for a helluva session of gut-laughing on the ledge - top out on uprising and over the railing at 3 AM for more of the same - the long, illucid orbit back home, i nearly sail off the road at steigerwald - a lascivious plunge under my domestic sheets even at the arrival of the dawn... 8/23-25 - days 23-25 - couple nights on the ledge w/ the powderhund n' nocturnal ambulations up the corner by the light of a big moon, whiskey-addled n' howling at the hills - ranger lecture when it was all over on unpaid camping fees n' crushed cans of pbr in the car-trash - young warriors n' jills n' whatnot - hot n' sunny saturday, gloomy n' rainy sunday - dave n' the eternal shit-show of the NoBoTrfecta came rambling down the way in the saturday dark 8/27 - #26 - warriors w/ good'ole-kenny - jim n' sal, the stewarts rocking a parents day-out, rick n' his long-haired hippie-son - muggy but pleasingly breezy up high - pbr's n' american spirits along the way - tales of august vernal ventures - plans laid for seasons to come - that rat-bastard 'nastia appears to have beat me to the pirate-booty, but all for a good cause - who wouldn't want an autographed copy of a bikini-clad clamberer from our Proud Cascades? 8/28 - day #27 - soggy on the trail w/ the recent rains, fall's come quick - steve-o on ground zero, jim n' sal providing sage advice from below - 2 laps on the corner, my first solo climbing of the season - got a goal of 30 such laps before the season ends, so 1/15th of the way now 8/30 - #28 - 2 more corner laps for 4/30 total for the season - solo-aided wild turkey, p1 - left it fixed for tomorrow w/ geoff - what's up w/ these hard men stealing our aid lines, we gotta go take'em back, i say! christ, that second pitch of wild turkeys looks like sparse gear, at least grunge book has them nice shiny new bolts and helpful chalk hints found a #7 bd nut, should its owner's wish for its speedy return - too many lying around my garage already, plus i have sympathy - got a tcu so stuck on wild turkey i had to bring out the hammer to reason it out old larry lounging solo-style out there tonight w/ not a beer nor a bottle on him 8/31 - #29 - 10 days dry-humping the bacon-wand this aestival august - the last one to be spent w/ geoff - we split the grunge book in half, resplendent in the scorching sun its 4 shiny new bolts - geoff had the first bit, the 4 bolts, most interspersed w/ some thin nailing and fine brassies - i did the bunch above the last bolt, pumping in pins like a pre-teen caffeine-free baboon, all bitch-scared n' whatnot - amazing that matt feller freed it all beers n' bottles n' bull-shitting down at the boat ramp afterwards - crusty beacon politics n' gut-busting nautical ventures comprehended - cop talk - a big old wind-born craft cast upon the piers, moribund n' motor-fucked, pleasing to see the pigs w/ someone else to fuck with left the fixed line up to the beacon-towers should anyone care to make use of it in the next week - figuring on the full wild turkeys next weekend - beacon's 2 most recently freed aid-lines returned to the fold! dod's n' grudge-book (adam's pic) 9/2/13 - day #30 - labor day, day before the bidness begins - up at 730 to practice awaking for honest employment - out to beacon by the time it was already hot - 2 laps on the corner, now 6/30 for the season - wasps still untouched on the 2nd pitch - plaid laying photo-siege to the crux 2 on p2 - met up w/ teacher-matt afterwards w/ enough time for him to rope-gun me up wind-surfer (muchas gracias!) - dumped larry off at the no-bo-trifecta for some beerz n' laffs w/ dave, then followed ranger karl back to beacon only to encounter the kewlest car-wreck i've ever seen there - a big-ass bus-sized rv, complete w/ towed-jeep, totally in the ditch across from the b-room in the main-lot, rangers n' cops everywhere w/ 10-foot hard-ons for their sudden importantness of purpose 9/3 - #31 - back 2 skewl - strange days and tales of human transformers - dashed out for a lap afterwards - kenny n' tim n' hijinx up on grassy - 7/30 corner laps for the season 9/4 - #32 - 2 more corner laps, 9/30 so far - elks bugling from the big beyond - grey and gloomy, wind off n' on - cluster-fuck kenny, a goddamn pater-familias now we find, n' denali-dave on round 2 - tiger woods by the banks of the mighty columbia - beers n' butts n' bullshitting as the day waned 9/7 - #33 - trail dayz - a herd assembled after 9 - ranger lecturz - why shouldn't i lick the saw-blade again? buncha beatards in attendance - adam n' kenny, the silvermanz, lucky larry, matt the hulk, crackman, nastia n' oleg n' some other slavic folk, plus no small number of imps n' goons of all sorts n' stripes - built a right nifty set of belay platforms for the se corner, finally a comfy place to put your shoes on and rope-wrangle, should you be into that sorta thing - jim'll hate it of course, but i notice all his routes have sweet set-ups at the base solo lap off at the end of hte work day, 10/30 now for the season, then beerz n' bullshitting w/ many folks back up in the lot - geoff n' i had a breezy cruise up cruis'n'jillz afterward, bumping up against oleg n' nastia along the way - krazy foolz bathign in the columbia over the fence - motorboats bottoming out in the low, low river - a cool kid named dasan the third soloist on the corner today, him fresh from alaska and the wild, high life of youth.... 9/11 - day #34 - somber day as always this time of year, though interesting - the first crop of seniors i've had none of whom could remember the happenings of but 12 years ago - mismangled comms w/ the powderhound, him sitting out at the parking lot, soaking up the intense sols, me hanging round camas waiting for the call meet old boy at the base and a solo lap we had, 11/31 so far with summer surging and a successful completion all but assured roped round on free4all soon thereafter - the biggest surprise on the rap - goddamn 8.9 mm rope, w/ 260 lbs of bubble-gum attached to it on an overhanging rappel, results in massive laser-burns through the palm unless you add some biners or wear gloves woven w/ space-shuttle-tile style wonder-fabric 9/12 - #35 - a jibber-jabber up cruis'n/middle-aged warriors w/ miker in the wind and dying desert heat - prizes in the fenceposts - what a wonderful world? 9/14 - day 36 - awoke hungover n' horrid 'round 6 on the couch - straggled upstairs for a sad attempt at a few extra hours of snoozing - appropriate to be horror-struck n' hairy-tongued for climbing a route called wild turkeys, wutcha say? wild-turkeys w/ geoff - wondrous times, woe-struck by heat, tongue thick w/ wine-slick - hairy recollections of halcyon dayz - me the first, him the last - small cams, tiny nutz, off-sets n' hammering aplenty on kniveblades n' soft euro-trash - the smiths n' tom waits wailing in endless loops on the what-have-you - jim at the base - philosophies n' philanderous frippery -burgundy n' beer n' bullshit'n - lounging along the new-laid sou'east co'ner - the way bent back to the beginning n' pat all pulled up n' waiting - booze n' bereavement n' bitzes soon returning "The world don't care what a sailor does in town It's all hanging in the windows by the pound" 9/17 - day 37 - 151st anniversary of the worst day in american history, why not court my own bold disaster? work done at 3, i walked to the parking lot, licked my fore-finger n' thrust it up into the air to measure the mendacious breeze - the augors were awe-fucked - purple piss in every direction, but maybe, just maybe, i could squeeze in a lap? wife n' kids not home until 6 at any rate, i had no reason not too, and figured a hike up the trail or even just a book-worm sesh in the red-devil would suffice to chase away the inevitable tuesday-blues, should i arrive to find it all a'cock-billed i've long held you can climb a hundred days at beacon and each day have a new distraction - this day it was a curious chem-trail on the 1st pitch - like the shimmery trail of a slug in morning, but strait up and down the full height to snag-ledge, and harder and cruncher than any slug-juice i've seen before - that and the merry martial site of what certainly appeared to be two apache attack helicopters making the dance of death up and down the gorge surprised to find the first lap of the day so dry after all this grim grayness of late, i figured on a second when i reached the trail only for the heavens to open and the rain to fall eagerly on this fell-earth - back at the car i had a leisurely 40 minutes fumbling through rick atkinson's robust apogee of awesomeness, the guns at last light - the rain raged on the rooftop as i made my own private anabasis, ambling through the penultimate tale of a near-dead generation - then it cleared and the mist moved off - a second lap then and all for the better - the lead out the pencil, i pushed off for home and hearth and the Promise of a Better Tomorrow 13/30 laps for the year now 9/18 -#38 - full-moonlight ascent of the corner w/ geoff - the weather god's relented after gray and damp all week - a full cast of clowns in addition to ourselves, their leader did a helen-keller style ascent of cruising to start lovely night - calm - the high moon on the river, the ripples hypnotic 9/20 - deo XXXIX - II laps for XIV towards XXX for the season, half-way bitzes, even as september sags sadly towards fall - the leaves on the wing, the thick lead sky-cloud ever lower towards dusk - fat gray raindrops on the windshield on the way-back - bunches of them bastard elk down the crick, bugling all the damn evening - jim n'an old-time vantucky friend round the base - kenny and a right curious feller from way-back east on the corner - a quick blow-by for the first lap, then a pause and some great goddamn gut laughs w/ them on the ledge - tales from the land of way-ago - pickens n' roanaoke n' hickory n' fucking appalachia 'n general discussed upon winter is coming 9/26 - day 40 - almost a week of solid rain and fucking work, no adventure at all - nastia's all stoked after a spell in the valley and wants to be a big waller, not that i know a damn bit of useful beta 'bout that - figured she oughta learn to solo-aid and gain some experience that way w/o making demands on dim-witted belayers (though, in truth, it ought not be that hard to round up some young'uns willing to hold the other end and stare up at here bouncing nether-bits) - she did well on the first third of free for all, and as evening grew to dusk, she lowered off her funky gri-gri setup and i had a bit of fun down-aiding and cleaning fucking torrential rain coming in a day - seems unlikely there'll be much more post-work beatarding this season 10/4 - day 41 - keeeerist, the fall fell down like a fucking bear trap on the balls some time ago it seems, and awful early too - nastia a bit waylaid by portland traffic - beacon's base looking a good bit like the argonne after old alvin york's big day - blasted tree debris all about the forest floor, the remnants of last weekend's big windstorm and great goddamn deluge - fresh broken blocks - oozing gashes on the upper edges of trees on grassy ledges - still a bit damp but it'll be a good weekend for clambering - we did the bastard warrior, finishing up just as dusk descended 10/5 - douglas adams day! - winter's upon the wall, albeit its adolescent, easy face - pure sunlight streaming through but somewhat weak - strong winds - battle debris from the week gone by all astrew - 3 laps on the corner then home for an afternoon w/ the kids n' wife n' parents 10/8 - 43rd beacon-wrangling day for the year - big fall in the gorge, the trees grown gaunt and dead-orange - damp, dull air on the evening orbit out, my head ringing w/ union-noise, deep wondrous woe - krazy late to met long-suffering kenny - up the corner in a damp, damp tizzy - S1+/2 conditions on the corner - a nut rescue - booty cordellete, cha-ching! babylyon fading, i fumble back in darkness gut-hungry to sad tales - dogs run demented, poor pat sure needs hisself a holy synod sometime soon 10/11 - #44 - epic fall beacon day - WRONG GULL IS GONE - the pillar damn near the size of a trailer that you used to jam to get up to the anchors below the off-width came out yesterday sometime, knocking down the massive old-growth tree below it and forever altering the trail - a fine little boulder for the kids to clamber on lots of rockfall throughout the morning - nastia thrown at wind surfer for aid-testing - many beers - dogs and kids and hard-core grown ups - jim and kenny - chemtrails, johnson, shakespeare, fucking kennedy - good times on the tumble back - now off for a birthday feast, and a monkey face party on the 'morrow 10/15 - day 45 - 2 solo laps, one w/ the irascible denaliduckdave - 19 for the year now - jim n' steve n' tim n' kenny n' Various Others - breezy n' fall-balmy - jeff thomas' big black cock cable all athwart the corner - gut laughs n' the grand history of the bacon-wand considered - home at dusk to take out the trash and taste a most excellent gumbo whipped up by the little woman 10/17 - #46 - BLACK-JACK! kenny is formally awarded the Order of Beacon, 3rd Class for today bringing two pair of boobies to our sacred stone 10/19 - #47 - oregon forum blowing up w/ cruel threats to your friend n' humble narrator as the dawn broke, whiskey-drunk hungover - a gut full of greasy egg n' iced coffee - geoff at the b.k. via mike's - jensen's w/ kyle n' steve too for a tr on the arena of terror - i really need to remember to bring a #5 next time - topped out in the golden glow of the late-day sun - beers n' bullshitting w/ steve in the frosty parking lot after, eventually a run down to the skamania mart for a resupply - another beer later we rambled down for a full moon frolic on the corner, more good beers in tow - belting out big tunes in the darkness, nary a headlamp in sight Trafalgar this day but a bit more than 2 centuries ago! lord nelson dead on the deck of his flagship, who among us could fear such a demise or wish one more wondrous? - "kizmet" he clamored as death clamped its chokehold along his wind-hole, or was "kiss me hardy" more the thing? my 48th beacon-ramble for the fast-rotting year - the Breath of God on the wall, fall colors and fecund smells - the south side to meself - 2 laps, 23/30 for the year and me feeling suddenly like the weather-lords will allow the whole solo set 10/22 - day 49 - 24/30 laps this season - the Indian Summer Endures - breezy n' balmy - the base empty, save for the echoes of jim's recent remodel of the rock-blasted bits - mixes right well w/ the corner's new platform - just need to drop 2 more trees n' it'll be purrfect dave cat-calling from the ground as i began the 2nd pitch - lingered at tree ledge till he reached me, than had a ramble on up the rest of the corner together, bullshiting about the Life Beatardia 10/23 - A Hat Trick of Days at beacon this week so far, my 50th of the year - 26/30 laps now - jim's ride in the lot but lost he was somewhere in the immensity of the park - the Banal Ballad of the Big Breeze blowing down the Columbia - sport climbers wide-eyed on the way down st crispin's eve LI de die ascensus editi! 7 corner clambers in 4 dayz, hang in indian what have you - 28/30 laps now as the autumn augurs roar on just rightly - busy day at bacon - jim n' steve n' the horror of a kamikaze kamera - a crew of girlz on uprising and a nice right sight to follow behind for a few minutes, untethered from terrestrial concerns calamitous tragedy on st crispins - beacon bound, all hepped up n' frantic on a friday in the fall - the red devil, dead - i ain't quite laid 'er in her grave yet, but i'm assembling the titanic quantity of liquor likely to be needed to make it through the wake even as we speak - calling all nations - the universe conspires to deny me the finish to my heroic warrior-poet-god-king quest - i coast into a pro-christian octogenarian-infested polystyrene paneled diner as her soul ascends to heaven - later i work the diner's phone, star-dazzled on a true and wondrous high, hanging out on hold while reading photocopies of old billy graham prayers, trying not to sweat diamonds - the cavalry comes in at the cusp of evening, and i begin my sulk towards bethlehem to be reborn sweet, sweet devil, don't be dead! 10/29 - day 52 of the year - redemption on what seems certain to be the dead last of the dancing days about the bacon-wand as fall upends and bumbles ever faster towards blasted winter - cold and crisp, dead air - i arrive w/o the red devil, desolate and gripped by autumnal angst - not a climber in sight and the sun rapidly setting on the south face - i scramble up to the last licks of light upon the first pitch, and pause, frog-like, in the frenzy of the fading furnace and Gather Strength - 2 laps on the corner, making me 30/30 for the year - from now on, like bj's after 7, every lap from here to the hereafter Pure Gravy Dia de Los Muertos putas! #53, a fine prime figure - my first head cold of fall bubbling up through my snot-ports, a weekend on the couch portending - Gravy Lap 1, snuck in on the dead-last work-day of the pre-daylight savings body-blow upcoming this sabbath - kenny n' adam n' jim n' steve n' scads of Portlanderz all about the damp n' doomy sunset slabs - a beer n' some butts, then a squinty-eyed slither back down the gorge to gullet-fulls of italian food n' a friday-night nap 11/10 - day 54 - a weekend of cavorting like a cave-contained wildman - rick's big five-o - the dynamite cave - party of 11, including da phuzzy - beer guzzling in the gut of the earth - howling music in the halls of the drowned god - all hepped up n' Heavy Crazy - bonfires n' bluegrass bands - chain smoking n' chili n' chilled coffee-touched stout - pissed n' damn near passed out in jim's ride after the party went down by the head - sunday morning whiskey-sick n' weak-souled - bacon n' greasy eggs n' beacon-rock brand beer - a wobbly orbit beacon-ways - blustery, strangely so - the wind in fits n' bursts - buxom girls all garbed in their autumnal get-up - cruising, panic-striken n' panting - up n' over n' back to the humble homestead for spring-rolls, sunday-night tv, n' getting soused 11/17 - #55 - the corner w/ nastia in full-on slippery conditions - damp, dead air, only the occasional catspaw on the placid columbia - the face alive w/ water, thick like buck-snot - french freeing to even start onto the slab 11/23 - day 56 - low in spirits and drifting in the dank doldrums of dead autumn for a fearful long stretch it seems - dastard showers at all hours, wind and wet and a general wilting of the soul as the sap sucks down into the dying earth - friday afternoon dawned frosty yet clear and i threw my shoes into the red devil on the off hope of a gravy lap in the gaudy afternoon, but emerged from work to a woesome wind - a gale w/o ale, grim and determined, no mettle in me - friday night spent getting good n' soused, a nap at nine, midnight w/ the wife in wondrous modes - saturday slept in a proper hour, then up n' coffeed n' cast off w/o partner or plan for a beacon-wand i imagined ever-much as weather-wrapped as the day before - the lot at mid-morning, much adled the Big Breath of the Bog-god - waves stetched long by the fetch of the far channel - a jog in crocs to the corner-pad, all lit by sun n' sheltered from storm - socks under shoes and three-quarter glove shod, i wandered up, the way so much drier than it has been for weeks now - to the true top and all is well, save that big old jug on pitch 2 that is now a ticking time-bomb if ever there was one the parking lot after - a passage to the boat-launch - wind beats upon wave upon bumper upon brain - a few chapters of my book with a couple of beers n' butts - cross-cat-harpings n' snatch-blocks n' the sweltering chilblains - back to the beacon for a circumnavigation n' curious long-orbit back mike-ways a Fall Jewel For Sure - 2 gravy-laps now since the season's been sucked away... 11/25 - day 57 - a rare-auold wintery plum - shuttered up the work-shed even at the last chiming of the bell, blasted off lickety-split up the columbia-way, wailing at fat-arsed fuck-wad lorries lumbering all too slow as my late-afternoon sun set into the western cloud-sluff - the red devil's engine whining w/ a lack of petrol, that vital stuff - into the lot at the first tendrils of twilight - jim n' sal about to set off - me getting all euro-nekkid as i changed into my war-kit, double-thick, while we jibbered n' jabbered about the way of it - shivering - skert - life slipping away so soon it seems - the very reason for coming - the wind in gusts and lulls, all schizo-like, no where near as bad as saturday gravy lap #3 as the vernal season sets hard into the hibernal - happy look upon my face i reckon as i snot n' snort my way up in the half-gale, hands numb n' fading - gloves off at the slab for the finger-swap - the reborative gut-rumble of safety at tree ledge, reckless as that might seem - a world apart - the short stroke onto the trail - the day's last light fading, fading, fading 11/26 - 58th beatard day of this becalmed annum - 4th corner crawl of the cruel late fall - tuesday afore tgiving and proud, proud weather - a 5-day weekend waxing full - balmy n' still in camas, but bright cold n' gusty out in the heart of the gorge - growing dark as i pulled into the desolate lot - big old ice block on the approach trail below the east face - a happy ramble up the dry, dry way - anchor booty on tree-ledge, should the offending parties wish recompense - the long way off, half-sweat through my wind-wracked coat - skert the shit out of a falcon all contemplating on his impending incestuous fornicating as i fingered me way up the very last bit - spent the last 100 feet duckign n' diving as i made for the sanctuary of the swaying forest 12/14 - day 59 n' can i possibly squeeze one last visit before the year fuckers off? too slimy for climbing rocks today, so i suited up the chilluns n' put the dogdamned god in the car too n' headed on out in the early afternoon - side visit to fallen-leaf park in camas along the way for chucking rocks across frozen lake vistas - franzia lake too for swan oogling - swaggered up the trail w/ the kids in tow n' had a picnic up on the summit, then back down for hot-cider n' a quick transit back to st clouds, via the skamania mart for cervazas - wandered along the riverside amongst the mud n' ice n' spent shotgun shells, chucking branches into the river for the dog to fish out, then wobbled on back home for ravioli n' rare-hot red sauce n' bunches of burgundy Quote
stevetimetravlr Posted January 5, 2014 Posted January 5, 2014 I already got 2 laps on the corner this year, so better get the party started, or you'll be in rehab with Lindsay Lowhand. This post must mean you are back from Red Rocking. Quote
ivan Posted January 5, 2014 Author Posted January 5, 2014 indeed, back from a grand week in the true desert, soaking up sun n' clambering on sandstone sheeeit, reckon tomorrow afternoon after work will suffice for a lap? it must be nice n' dry? Quote
stevetimetravlr Posted January 6, 2014 Posted January 6, 2014 Very nice and dry indeed. Jills is even doable, but man its a small window of warmth. Quote
ivan Posted January 7, 2015 Author Posted January 7, 2015 my 3rd year of daily beacon tr's : 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!!!!!!!" 6/11 - day 23 - mighty prime - another day of gentle ambulations, alcohol-adled, on the north side on sublime slab routes i'd not yet done - sailed out swiftly in the hms revenge w/ first mate swabbie silverman - fun n' games n' all that shit, up-down-n-all-around - allergy attacks for the lot of us n' shaping out to be a shitty season for the mozzies too ta boot - a sleepy drive home, my all slumber-stupid after awaking in the awful dawn to get the familias on that far-flying plane on back to the old dominion - 3 more work days till we say fukit to the welter-weight blues 7/14 - die XXIV - opening n' bastille day bitches, there's new baguette-muff on the field - rumors were of a rock wicked-hot, yet arrived mid-afternoon to cool temps n' pleasant breezes - shot up young warriors w/ geoff n' saw no sign of that kurious kev-bone feller, yet i was sure he'd have been up n' at it long afore we arrived - jim n' kenny did the corner about the same time and was glorious to see ole'jim giddup the route w/o a hitch despite his big what-have-you of a few months back - beers n' bullshiting at the ledge, not a fucking cigarette between the whole dirty lot of us - i felt so healthy and like a herpes-ridden cock-handler at the same time 7/15 - day 25 - 20 years ago this night i finally got into the good graces of the woman i've been w/ ever since dodd's w/ a spot of wind-surf'n in the morn w/ ben n' his boy, then afternoon jill's w/ kenny after a head-swim'n sesh out at the no-bo-trifecta w/ smoky jim, a new stranger n' plenty wierd - kevbone thrown'n down on the warrior - american teenage spirit permeating through the day - the no-bo circle complete - wine n' ginned up neighbors - a plan for the morrow crafted and curved to fit the needs of a world on the crest of a true and beautiful wave 7/16 - #26 - last day alone for the summer - woke in fog and tempest in the mid-morning - sleep w/ dogs, wake w/ fleas, confirmed - wine n' breakfast n' tidying up - long pull to bonneville by 1 to fetch young kenneth - lightning ascent of warriors and good fun in the breeze n' shade - down just in time to sprint out to pdx to bring the magic home - gardening n' gabbing - pizza n' parlor tricks - mid-summer satisfaction 7/19-20 - days 27 n' 28 - saturday morning doldrums, drifting along on drink and dregs of home-chores - afternoon ambulations camas-ways - bday parties for little bitty peoples - robots and addled adult ramblings - felicitations to the family-folk and fumbled east-wards as evening set in - galloped through the gorge w/ gutfuls of pabst n' crawfuls of camels- emergency core-breach at st. clouds - beacon in the gloaming - geoff in the h.m.s. revenge - giddy-upped the good old corner, passing near a dozen dawdling just below the tip-top - 11 minutes trail to base, pouring sweat and huff-puffing like a wounded fuck party at the no-bo moon-tower soon thereafter - 'skitters n' grill-fare - kids n' cosmo n' numerous curious-fucks - slide show n' half-hearted heckling (i should try harder ) - the evening wore on n' geoff left to Defend his Castle (flush w/ glory after getting hisself a new-gem that day) - Many Beers - the bridge well after midnight, brush and brambles at my half-shod heels - passed out hard near 2 a.m., my sleepign bag for a pillow yet somehow i was well within it by sunrise sunday half-bright and broody - the auold-folks awake - a quick exit even as the weasels wiggle in - out to beaocn for a days-gone-by lap - jibber-jabber w/ jihad-joe as i suck down a pre-noon pabst - the Long Highway home - hashbrowns - helluva time to take a nap 7/25 - day 29 for 2014 - days of storm n' souse - good times w/ the kids in camp, hard rains, and little to do but fuck-all w/ the recently-returned wife (so to speak, literally not literally) planned to climb w/ minnesota adam who i'd not seen since the garden of eden just outside the dynamite cave had been inundated w/ rain in rare days gone by - busted cars n' busted dreams that day, but a spectacular last minute save sucked the bitterness out of the expedition at least tuesday we'd planned at first but morning after morning after morning of ruinous damps downshifted us to friday instead - all set to saunter off in mid-morning i was a bit late meself to the bk-rendezvous after binging n' purging until late the night afore on norse horror-films, stale beer and basic astronomy textbooks - no white boy upon arrival, kewl - kinda thought maybe he'd just boomed out to beacon after i waited 30 minutes - bought some smokes just in case the cosmos had decreed this and went bounding out there w/ a wistful air about me when he still hadn't showed - nope, no early-riser waiting to regard me w/ edged, red eyes, so did a lap on the corner to see if maybe he wouldn't arrive eventually - got back down n' met that ole'boy rick in the lot and smoked all kinds of things, gesticulated wildy and talking-tall while him n' his kid started banging up cruising - this new feller george came gambolling along n' we ended up doing some good things - great guy that newborn-babe-in-the-woods - he got his first leads of crusing and free for all and crushed them ended up w/ jimbo for a while - all your favorite conspiracies considered - goddamn muslims, moon-bases on mars, mormons sucking satan's cock, etc - parted ways as the shade came side-saddling over the south-side n' finished off the day w/ an overladen second solo lap - gallumped on back home well before the banishment of day to break bread w/ the little people and puzzle out this precious weekend before us may summer never die 7/27 - XXX - 17th corner lap of the year so far - crawled down the gorge w/ the family crew to drop the little lady off at her girl scout camp - the way back we sauntered up the bacon-wand w/ dog n' friends, me breaking off to do a solo lap n' meet them up top - newbs looking awful lost at the base, casting off 30 feet right of crusing when they were looking for the corner - good times on the walk down and the long way back 8/6 - day 31 - hiroshima day, and only half as hot - not been climbing much of late after inexplicably mangling my shoulder while horsing around w/ the kids - gave it a test run w/ the great and powerful kenny on the mere corner - left some fine literature up on the ledge for all you fucking heathens to study on 8/8 - #32 - took ole'calen out for his first climb and he did well on rhythm method n' the 1st pitch of the corner - most memorable event of the day, a long train heading east carrying a huge cargo of what smelled like festering fetuses - holy shit, the market in dead hookers must be booming in montana 8/9 - 69 years after nagasaki got kicked square in the nuts - 33rd beacon excursion for the year - a midnight full moonlight ascent w/ ze phuzzy - frogs n' bats n' owls dominate the deadly-still air - heavily laden w/ homebrew and commercial swill we sashayed our way up in the elven-ambiance, bullshitting n' bantering on a billion topics so long the dawn began dragging it's ass into the eastern-wings of the amber sky as we reached the trail - amazing drive home w/ the ocher-orb huge and low in the west, casting conflicting shadows it seemed in its bitter battle w/ big brother 8/23-4 - days 34-35 - the ass-hit of summer - a good long time since i'd had a taste of bacon - a week at the beach w/ the famibily chilling in the cool, cool sands - a good bit of a week clambering at wolf rcoks, then some random work and then shit, here it all is - good times w/ the powderhund n' squire geoff swam the river from the boat launch out to the bird island - always wanted to see the wall from there and the water was crazy warm - turns out you only have to swim half the distance and can wade the rest we a 3-some on warriors - kenny n' company along the way - the russkis above - crackers crawling all over this scaly lizard-prick - dusk approaches - left the lawyer n' the shit at the top of the raps n' romped back down to pick up the party supplies - a crowd in the lot, good times ensued - stumble-fucked up the trail sans headlamp in the dark purple of the sunless night - munched on sandwiches n' pringles n' howled at the moon - perfect temps, not a breathe of wind - bats n' shooting stars - fine music until that bastard decided it was time to rap back to portland sunday dawned bright n' early - scampered up to the trail n' down the bathroom for a christian crap - bryan didn't quite see the need - fumbled around on riverside but we were probably both too hungover for having it - back at the base for right gull - nearly killed folks when i kicked off a block on pitch 2 - tasty fish n' bagel sammies - back home soon enough for pizza w/ the little people and the dread reality of Work Tomorrow highlights: great swim, balmly night, evidence of some sad soul making the Big Spit all over the anchor on snag ledge 8/27 - day 36 - 18 n 19th laps of the year - scorching sun - busted block on the snag ledge traverse - both jugs past the overhang on p2 marked w/ pink-X's and deserving of it - the world winds over on itself and is the worse for it - the moon is broken and the sky is cracked 9/2 - day 37 - corner lap 20 - my 17th campaign commences as another legion of students saunters into another sultry september classroom, soon i'll have spent more time standing then sitting in such a situation, so to speak - august over, the autumn clearly waxing as the beacon weather blew cold and gloomy, rain on the way - all the signs of summer's demise present - the river low, low, low - elk in great batches down by the creek - yellow leaves all bursting out on the oaks 9/3 - 38th bacon-basted day of this bitter year - 21st corner lap, though i was sketched enough of the loosening crux block as to practice down-soloing bits of the first pitch to persuade meself i'd not be bitch-fucked if it all went wrong, nor to do a 2nd lap but instead steam home for an early super w/ the little-people fall again, the world turns gray and we must follow - a cool breeze in the deep shade - september's here and we have nothing to fear 9/5 - 39th day out beacon-wrestling this year and my 22nd solo lap - a grand final salute to sailing summer - the shade for sure in the mid-afternoon, but the wind hot n' gusty like the doors of a blast furnace thrown open soon after the gilded glut-fuck of the earth has oozed forth - i glide up the corner, free of fear i figure as if a man is to die doing something totally trivial it oughta at least be in the first flush of the full work-year dawning big things coming to the big stone - many machines on ix, plans within plans, i must parse politics with my ever-present award-winning personality 9/6 - been 40 days w/ some of dem nights - a boozy sleep-in n' lazy orbit outwards past the car-fucked ozone - never seen the lot at beacon so full i had to park way afore the trail - larry fresh off getting dumped by jimbo, wandering around like only lash can w/ that laconic look on - geoff in the revenge a few moments later - the trio of us spent a good bit of the day on ground zero, me savoring the shade, sipping beers from the cooler and the camels - great gusts all day, raining dust from above - ole'geoff had to go a bit early so we settled for fixing the first full pitch n' left the rope fixed for next week - coulda stayed out awhile for a moonlight ramble but was too desirous of nap n' nosh 9/8 - 41st day, 23rd solo lap for the year - a day long in coming - 12 falls ago i did my first climb of the corner w/ sketchy-todd the marine - he assured me he'd done it before and led the crux 2nd pitch overhang and slab - i don't recall the details - something like 30 minutes into the pitch he went over the overhang and dissappeared from sight - 30 more minutes went by - a soloist passed us - another hour went past - the soloist passed us again - "how's my boy doing, dude?" "aww man, shit, he didn't look like he was doing so well" so...12 years later and i've come a little way, but today was the day that wouldn't have suprised me then but did now the crux hold(s) after the overhang are GONE all energy moves according to the whims of the Great Magnet - God Beacon is beckoned down ever lower each passing year, and soon enough the whole shit-show to be sucked under the crust n' recirculated to be Born Again until the sun grows fat in its dottage and restarts the cycle all over on a far more cosmic scale so...then...caution is called for as the crux part of the crux pitch is a new beast now - discovering this for the first time sans cord not quite the what-have-you i was wanting, but i'll take that over not riding the bitter-bit down to the ground when it was finally time for it to go the new situation is perhaps not long for the earth either - as is, i fear flopped onto my knees and pawed over, putting plenty of force onto the only other x-marked block still in the neighborhood, which holds good enough but is rotten-awful too - in fact damn near the whole panel by the overhang reverberates to the palm when pounded on - i think it's time to re-locate one or two of the spikes from the north side - who's w/ me? 9/10 - douglass adams day for me out at the big-b, my 24th lap too - a bevy of old bastards at the base: sal, larry n' jimbo, all juiced up n' jabbery - jibes against the Great Satan that tossed off the sacred corner bits - light airs, limpid sky and sullen river - clanking machines wage war against the many boulders by the big river down at the dock, making the way broad and deep for the freshets of fall kee-rist i hate the new reality of the route - can't figure out how to pull the overhang now w/o desperately ending up on my knees and yarding down on a block that will not suffer a fool such as this so sweetly when it blows in its big way 9/11 - 13 years ago i lived in a cursed city 3 hours from even a single pitch of decent climbing - as of today i had my 43rd day at a fine joint just 25 minutes from work and got my 25th solo lap of an astoundingly amusing easy, easy climb took a good look at the recommended alternatives for the recently repugnated crux - in true late-summer beacon-form the new course is curiously chalked-up already - da'lright, guess it goes - sure ain't no reliable pro near it and leader or follower falling looks like it'll come w/ heart-ache, but this ain't exactly fucking golfing now is it? the first finger-fucks of fall big n' fresh on the wall - great gusts galloping in from the west - not full-on winter wedder just yet, but da check is in the mail - my awning at home all ripped to shreds when i returned - not a soul in sight with all that wind, it were lonely and loopy on the south side - sat on the ledge w/ beer n' book n' butts and savored the loudness of silence 9/12 - day 44 - sorta lap 26 - arrived after work to a lot overfull of fancy fucks - bright sun and balmy despite the breeze - kenny n' company already 3 pitches up young warriors so i scooted on up to join them on stoner ledge - hadn't soloed that pitch this year nor done it w/a rope in a month either it seemed, but i felt nothing could go wrong in the fellowship of such fine, bitter bastards - still, sipping on beer and all sorts of things got me to thinking more clearly, so i acquiesced to a reasonable over to tie a bit of their rope around my bare balls and do the thing w/ at least the hint of a belay bantered w/ the boys near the top for awhile - adam got me n' the norseman n' evening slices of bacon in the background fun n' games on a phriday night, bullshitting on the bench n' throwing back beers - never did get to the True History of the american pledge but plenty of time left i figure - fumbled oh-so-slowly back home at a reasonable speed in the fading glow of dusk, fuming at the no-show of the promised northern lights 9/13 - dia numero 45 - laps 27 n' 8 - saturday, the sadly adequate balm for the bruised workaweek's soul - a sound sleep in n' some horticulturing n' tomato canning - a nice beer buzz in the morning in the bosum of me family - jew-pee-arr in the kitchen, blt's for breakfast crept out to beacon in the big heat of this near sunset summer, arriving soon after the shade had set in - folks floundering around all over - kenny n' dave, adam n' virginia, strangers on the warrior and a mort more besides - alaska, angel of my adolescent dreams - first one lap, then another - the long sunshafts of early evening - belting out songs on the way home, hollering over the road-noise of this new world blowing along 9/15 - day 46 - lap 29 - sultry afternoon, sullen, overcast, creepy hot - summer a rabid dog in its death throes, teeth in the meat of melancholy's throat and in need of the Bad Touch if all is to be made right - an empty corner - the new crux my new altar, complete w/ the mantra "the breath of god (only the penitent man will pass)" beer and book for the ledge - bob dylan considered - every biography's lesson the same (fuck this feller) - the long way off - a descent down the trail made all the more decent, all so much sweeter, by the loveliest pair of biracial short-short clad sirens i've seen in so long kenny in the lot - cop talk - comport yerself public-wise, oh my brothers, if beer-can you dare carry openly thou willst do and wish to remain on-line - talk of some rescue of over-adventurous teenagers on the spike route the day before accomplished by said ranger n' vancouver firefighters - dispute over the true nature n' origin of the cords hanging down the east face - fukkit, i'm going home 9/16 - day 47 - lap XXX - tuesday, the long dark titty-less tea-time of my tepid soul - a day teeming w/ work, not a moment to shit, many troubled sinners cry out for correction - myth of the mazamas abounding - the afternoon ample for an adventure - kenny n' kompany on right gull - a merry couple downclimbing from the topout of young warriors to rap jills - i pray on my altar, knee-pad clad should ye have parted w/ a big nut in the past day i'm happy to return it if you can name the pagache primary color it's pastiched with - found a southern adventures hat too all battened down to a diameter more miserable than my gay aunt vermont, should you be man enough to claim it 9/19 - 48th day, 31st lap -everything's fine on a friday afternoon that last full week of summer, 'cept i did feel a might bit sleepy - beer n' butts bought at the asian joint, i bumble along to zion - scads of lads scrambling around the south side, i scud along my lazy way - tepid air, teeming drinks - pizza night and i pass out well soused shortly after nine, content at least to have outlasted the snoring spouse 9/21 - 49 days spent out there so far this year, each one decent n' today no different - lazy sabbath sleep-in, alarmed by geoff's claims to Have Found Dog but cadged it quick as an excuse for me to snooze a bit then make a big old gut-full of taters n' sausage - furnace breath to the mid-morning sky - i dedicate meself to a day w/ a little less poison than previous ones n' grumble about it ground zero, pitch 2 - we split it up a bit - alphabet soup song holler'n while belaying geoff - a breeze - jimbo down on the ground doing the social butterfly-bit - some big laughs this time, the kind that rumble through the gut n' gush out in old-lady lulls - the evening upon us soon enough and its back to da big town and the tedious details of a work night 9/23 - day 50, lap 32 - mr magoo's ashes make me alright - the autumnal equinox is upon us - gloomy first day of fall, light winds and long shadows - ain't never noticed before a bright red anchor well off right of young warriors, a pitch or more up and right of stoner's ledge - long look at aidtacular options off tree ledge, might be worth the leg-work once the rains come to ruin the easy freeing... 9/26 - 51st day, 33rd lap - days of sad rain ruining my summerish dregs - jim n' dan-o, the old boy w/ the boomng brogue - steve n' adam adventuring on the dutchman - dylanology on the ledge - friday night noodles sleepily into saturday morning 9/27 - day 52, 34th lap - saturday grey n' gloomy - a sound sleep in - i don't mean to brag, i don't mean to boast... - gardening n' scratching my glorious big balls in the late morning - the kids off on a mission, i laze n' grade n' launch for beacon midday - tattoed types setting off for their first beacon trip - jim n' unnamed types cleaning - steve n' rick rambling up jills - i do a lap, then team up w/ these lazy-phucks for a tr-sesh on the newly remodeled corner - top rope the overhang crux ten ways to sunday but don't leave feeling anymore settled - we double-rope rap down warriors as the sun sets in the west - chuckles n' chubby-fucks 10/1 - day 53, lap 35 - 15 days out at the playground last month, september always seems the dreamiest w/ early-outs at the easy time of the work year and longish afternoon light - sad to see it go, but there's a fury to fall that's pleasing in its own right - chilly out there - kenny n' geoff wraping things up in the hms revenge as i arrived - butts n' banter, then i set off for a casual romp, well clad, up the becalmed corner 10/3-4 - days 54-5, lap 36 - friday sweet and simple - long day of work from afore the sun awoke - bantering w/ bitter becalmed bitches - blasted out to beacon in the beaming sun at the break of 3 - strong pressure to make back to school night at 5-fucking-30 back in the 'couve - every beatard ever born it seemed teemed about the base as i breezed through w/ my proletariat beer - jim n' sal, steve n' kenny, adam n' the whole world afore us - i solo up to snaggle-toof ledge and suck down smoke and savor the scene, the sun sagging, the company curious fun for a fucked up friday night a fine burn back once i broke the manacles of that mighty bunch - at the railing a few minutes later, i busted a beer through me as i broke big down the trail - jeff fucking thomas shuffling like a harmless hobo through the parking lot, i nearly blew by him till i recognized the cock-sucker in a cincinnati reds hat actually had a proper claim on my consciounes - always alright to argue a position w/ an alderman w/ a grin n' wisdom n' a sly wit - the rest of the night nimbly dispatched - a strange lot, desperate late - peeing in the bushes to the shriek n' call of friday night lights - crusty church-smells n' i can't help but wanna clown around w/ the kids in the back - goign away party an hour later w/ a parcel of people off to live in a parsonage - grown up butts n' banter on the pavement - passed out big time on the couch by 11 saturday right up to rage at the righteous hour - the powderhound package - a pabst by camas and a camel too and the miserly remains of mr magoo - hangovers in the house of the horse-lords, hosing it out the hinter-side to my distinct dismay - packign passed on for later, we saunter down w/ all bu the kitchen sink - warriors to tree ledge, where i had a hankering to have at some lost remnant of the rancorous bolt wars of the way-back days - brought a hammer n' some handy nails, did a welcome adventurous ambulation over to the tr-top - sorted it out and settled down back to the ledge to dispense w/ lovely ones n' lap up iron-can concoctions and croon at the peach pleasant allah had perched upon my lap - eventually up the route i'll call MIA and merged back w/ warriors - up n' over to jimbo at the little people - rapped down the dutchman and dicked around on the ground gulping green cans n' gestating gallons of smoke - a grand gallop back down the 14 n' freedom at last, frolicking in the garden n' gathering up pumpkins n' gourds of all dimensions 10/6 - day 56, lap 37 - indian summer ain't it, emotion enough to rally for winter's greater injury? a week plague-fucked w/ post-work wooly-bullshit, but somehow here it was 420 on monday and i'd good odds at a moon-shot? boomed out to the big bacon, wrestling the moral dilemma at buying more demon-weed. ended up just as you'd suspect, arriving to see the cast of usual suspects. bitches rigging ropes all over the place to pander to the hoi-poilio - rick all set to ramble up so we joined forces, tumbling past jeff t on the slab n' kenny n' arent further up - chuckles n' chest-beats, the week good enough for now 10/8 - day 57, lap 38 - global warming gabby-gab followed by beacon rock balmy grabby-grab - the wind in the meadow - i wobble out of the lot, head full huge of life, awful hammer-struck by the stupid fucks of am radio - gusts from the graveyard - the regular ramble - the righteous walking up warriors - a pair of lovely lasses on the corner, one speaking w/ a lilting polish croon - would that everyday featured some such easy-on-the-eyes scene - a sealion hard upon the boat-slip, spraying in the golden light when it surged above the water-line to the terror of the terns - tourists on the trail, oblivious to the tumbling orb - a long ride home tortured by shrill tenors of the tendentious sort 10/12-13 - days 58-9, lap 39 - the tail end of my 40th birthday weekend - rambled out past prineville w/ ole'pat for a riot on steen's pillar n' the ringside rock - on the way home sunday stopped by the beacon-wand n' got tangled up in many late afternoon parties attempting the corner - settled for the first 2 pitches than rapped down the warrior and let pat led the first pitch of warriors as a weekend-cap - home for schnitzel n' beer n' bullshiting w/ my big brother - monday it was work and the post-bday-bash blahs - out to beacon in the late afternoon to a sad still-life parking lot scene n' coasted up the corner like a ghost, the world all silent and lonely - returned home to hear of the sad passing of the irascible and incorrigible corvallis-climber 10/28 - day 60 - holy sheeit muslims, mohammad-mohaammad abu-mohammad, but it's been nothign but strong mists n' merciless pluvial pummelings these many past moon phases - downshifted w/ a dismal lack of perception to full on winter funkiness - the world turned upside down in a wicked hurry hopeless forecast, but w/ daylight savings waning away this weekend i rambled out after work to meet kenny despite the kluster-fuck prognostications on the public-radio - the corner was a gushing geyser of grey water but we grunted up a good bit of it anyhow, grim in the mean gloaming, the island lost in mist - drippign wet in the parking lot n' night full upon us - kenny cuts out just in time for Larry Da Tool to lumber up and lay down a towering tirade upon me about the evils of public drinking, despite the fact we'd been in the least beer-friendly of environs for some time - must be easier to be a closet-junkie in the gentle confines of a damp desert rambler? 11/8 - day 61 - first day of fine weather in fuckall - the plan had been to do a dynamite descent w/ berfday boy big-rick n' phuzzy-adam, but clear skies n' calm winds made it madness to contemplate such subterranean shenanigans - a host of cluster-fuck factors saw us arriving a bit later than strictly kosher - i blame meself, was bawling through camas listening to the memorial show for the click n' clack bros wanted to do jensens - the right time of year for that righteous route - projected from the wall so good n' dry, standing south-west so it keeps the sunlight till dusk - we rambled down to the base past a number of Known Delinquents n' gulped down jug-beer while getting geared up and awaiting rick's arrival - adam took us up to the notch via the original first pitch, always an exercise in choss wrangling - rick showed up just in time for me to take his rope in tow, but having arrived declared he didn't much dig the exposure - never met a climber w/ a healthy fear of heights, but reckon it was about time i took us up the 2nd short pitch but by the time adam was up i'd done the math a few times and deduced we'd be topping out well after dark, which i didn't have much taste for, confirmed coward that i've become - we settled for buildign a rat's nest of a rap anchor out of the 4 bolts that have a combined age probably greater than our goddamned country and scooting back down to the ground - more beers n' butts n' laffs n' then a late afternoon jaunt up the corner, just barely dry - a long jaunt back home through the true dark, a full moon as a lamp to light the way - saw the bk twice that night as adam conspired to leave his car keys in the devil when he went in for a burger and i drove off 11/10 - day 62 - lap #40 - auspicious autumn - vet's day eve, a lonely one at this school full of aestivally-minded miscreants - three generations of venerated camasionians considered n' contemplated on - the rare bright autumn sun at 3 pm, rightly paired with a stiff easterly breeze - i range along the distance full of old-man fears - what a beast i've become, i sicken at his sight, conquered by foes un-queried - the rock was clammy and cold as corpse flesh, i tried to wave off but walked a bit along the base until my shame overcame me - shoes on, knee pad too, perspired a point or two south when i set off - bounded up as i was bade too though and shrugged off the oozing ethers from the fen-reeks of the ruddy earth - eagerly edged up to the top, hoping to hale the time-traveler as i head up - not a soul in sight, and soon to the top and down - the long light dying on the trail, but wicked bright, like recently considered fading hopes - this year can not last. 11/11 - day 63 - lapz #41-42 - douglas adams accomplishment unlocked! a righteous sleep-in on a tuesday provided by veterans everywhere, and for that we thank you wicked windy but dry n' dandy, so out the door at nine i went - a rocking good time on the outbound, the devil eager to the door of the east-wind, the helm all a-lee oft n' on - billcoe n' jeffie-t billowing blasphemies n' good-tidings at your blameless n' guilt-fre author a trifle nervous i was - awful blustery - blowdowns everywhere - our humble corner platform on the near edge of blown-out after the big tree bastioning it's edge done burst in the big breeze - shoes on- hat on - 4 layers thick my tortured soul, my cap ahoo in the big wind n' ballyoo felt The Fear on that first climb - questioning meself even - why the phuck am i here afterall? kenny n' adam on the other end - beers n' books for a good bit after - a guilt trip on my consciene then too - another lap even - good times n' gesticulations at the furies beyond the furthest borders - the long road home into the wonder of the western sun - trees down n' forest bracken all about - veterans day verily observed i vouch say 12/2 - day 64 - nice night at the beacon-wand, though didn't manage any climbing - frost fangs on everything, phantsmagorical faces, the frozen fingers of fell-fate - wandered down to the base but it was already long light - wicked wind for sure - recent big old rockfall down the east face, plenty of man-slayers done rampaged right through the trail - gave it a go and climbed up the first 50 feet of the corner but the Little Voice i've been ignoring in the back of my mind the past few flights done grew itself a pair and was yelling loud enough to garner the unwanted attention of the least frowsy of librarians - wandered about and let my hands warm and even gave it another go before turning around once again at the same point - just didnt' want it i guess - sure i could do it just didn't like the feel - settled for a circumnav and a walk up the trail in a huge gale suprised to arrive at the car in the early evening dark NOT to find a nasty ticket on my window - recently got a big old ticket from the new dumb fuck for climbing all day and getting back to the lot a few minutes after sunset - jesus christ on a cracker.... 12/14 - day 65 -jeebus, been way too long since the wedder and demands of famiwly lined up to let me out for a slice of bacon - dawn coolish n' clammy-foggy at the house, but clear and bitter blue by the gorge's mouth, the wind ripping open wounds in the sky - geoff drove as i'm in the midst of semi-annual arguments w/ the wretched fools that infect our fair stone, so i thought it sensible to Maintain a Limited Profile the plan was jensens - gear in need of reclaiming afterall - didn't happen - blowing and shady at the start, cloud-scud obscuring the sordid sun - it seemed way too damn mean out to mangle our way up that not-so-meager bit of stone before nightfall, and these park fucks have set their cruel faces to enforcing all sort of prohibitions against that so...so goddamn blustery at the bottom anchor of jensens that i was mortal afeared one of the other of us was gonna get blown off the mighty exposed stance there - geoff eventually ambulated up a little bit before deciding he was all opposed and as i was already settled on our sad defeat i said so-be-it settled on doing an aid lap on wind-surfer, no simple affair in the Big Blow about us - i did the first half and geoff the last, me sipping on bitter beers and blackened butts and Biding My Time when done we got 2 pitches up the corner before dark and wind and traffic sent us down the warrior could it be the last bit of beacon for this battered year? 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billcoe Posted January 9, 2015 Posted January 9, 2015 What a great day. Great day! Played hookey from work to get a lap with JT. Great company. The weather was not predicted to be the best with 40degree temps and steady 20-30 MPH winds with up to 40 MPH gusts, but a couple of layers of coats seemed to blunt it a tad and it worked out. The windiest spot was the uprising top out and the weather man called it on the money at 40MPH we thought. Pretty much had it to ourselves as Adam and Timetraveler rapped off to get a stick in the eye attended to in the clinic (torn cornea, should heal up). We heard that the kids who started to follow us bailed off after the first pitch. At least, thats the report we heard from a boat ramp report -bless cell phones:-). BTW, kids, that sling and 2 biners that were left behind after the traverse were only cause we're old and decrepit and someone *cough* cough * spaced out and forgot them. In our day, that was ALWAYS called "bootie". Small price to pay for such an excellent day climbing. And since you missed the climbing, the gear is a consolation prize for you all. So congrats, shits essentially brand new and totally yours now- no worries and enjoy. Figured Ivan would show, but he might have been caught in traffic as they were doing work on uphill rock cliff by Cape Horn on the SR14 road that necessitated hour long closures...in fact, I think we hit only 50 min of it and were glad to listen to the oldies I'd uploaded on the Iphone whilst the day warmed up to the eventual high of 42 degrees or so. 2 massive shoulder surgeries back to back in the last year, close to healed now - nice to not whining about the pain now ...... too much:-) Just nice to get out in (somewhat) decent weather with decent company again before it gets closed. Quote
ivan Posted January 9, 2015 Author Posted January 9, 2015 nice n' dry then? shit, maybe shoudl do a lap tomorrow? Quote
billcoe Posted January 9, 2015 Posted January 9, 2015 nice n' dry then? No, didn't say that. It was better than sometimes. I figure you'll do a cordless lap so let me sus it out some for you. I don't want you to have false info. 1st pitch, minimal wet spots low easily avoided, traverse moss was wet of course. 2nd pitch - perfect. Mostly in the sun for us @ 1pm ish I'd guess. 3rd - 1st and 2nd steps the crack only is wet, but the face to the left is dry. 4th - the stairway steps below the chimney were running water. Chimney dry. Uprising pitch and walk off were great. We belayed the walk off (never done that before) just to make getting off safe cause the wind was ramping up. Once we got moving it was good, getting off the ground was the typical contest of wills between the warm car back in the parking lot or the wind and cold above. I suspect you've freesoloed it in worse, I remember blowing it off last month (last month?) to go hiking and seeing you in the parking lot and it was better than that yesterday - but I didn't say it was dry. They are calling for dry and gusts to 37 mph today, so if the wind direction is the same it will be slightly less wind and as theres been no rain slightly drier too. Have fun, dress warm. Quote
ivan Posted January 9, 2015 Author Posted January 9, 2015 i've turned into a bit of a wimp lately - i get bad juju at the crux now after it's been terra-formed and i really don't like soloing the slab pitch if it's damp (i have to aid the first bit when it's running wet) Quote
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