Short TRs that rhyme


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Topic Author's Original Post - Mar 8, 2010 - 12:57pm PT
Tried to get it done in an hour, took an hour an a half back in 2006. Don't know how people do this kind of thing in real time. Anyhow, kinda fun trying to distill a trip.

Let's have'em.

Epic on Charlotte Dome

Eschewing the topo would add adventure to Charlotte’s moderate face.
Back from bear trees looking for the start among many at its base.

Dike missed, cruising, then indecision over choppy seas of rock.
Must-be-the-traverse followed by stout moves reversed to take stock.

High up on delicate face as a wayward rowboat tied long to shore
recriminations fade as resolve directs feet pasted and set--above lies more.

Finally the headwall of plates and scoops hardly a pause yet the smell of home
known false as light wanes and the last rolling pitch means running but the dome

whose top was for skipping is an edge mounted by blocks awkwardly passed.
Still the yet unripe foolishness praised by 12,000-foot peaks in snow last

bordered by red compressing to black. One headlight, slabs of glass
for this the 8-mil dragged up the face to be thrown over its ass

Trees mute, triangulation failed by one false memory is a repeated
slog giving in to shivering sleep that fully refreshes when finally we are treated

to the full color snapshot of bright nylon against shiny green.

[edit: you guys showed me space for pace]

Trad climber
Ouray, Colorado
Mar 8, 2010 - 01:13pm PT
For TR's that rhyme

Most won't find the time

Gym climber
berkeley, ca
Mar 8, 2010 - 01:25pm PT
To Whitney one must loose a lung.
From Russell, please, remove your dung.

The Mountaineers Route is for many so scarey,
That their zeppelins of waste did they cease to carry.

Enter my sweetie, good steward of the lands.
He'll pack out your poo. (But did he sanitize his hands?)

In the Bishop ER our vaycay did end,
It took a good month for his innards to mend.

Trad climber
New York, NY
Mar 8, 2010 - 01:36pm PT
Up and down
Up and down
When will I
Get off the ground

Here I go
I think, I know
Better place
A piece down low

Halfway there
I look, I stare
Cant find a placement

I think I see
A climbing sequence
To a tree

There I go
Oh no, OH NO!
Thank god I put
That piece down low

not a TR, just a made up poem an the spur


Vision man...ya gotta have vision...
Mar 8, 2010 - 01:49pm PT
I went climbing wit a guy named BrassNuts,
Took a few photos, but they were all heads and butts.
We pulled and pulled and then pulled some more,
Headed for the car 'round about four.
That's all there is, ain't much more to tell.
That Queen Creek rock is rough as hell.

Tip yer waitress, I'll be here all week.
Secrest out.

Old Pueblo, AZ
Mar 8, 2010 - 02:09pm PT
I went to the Stronghold with a guy named Survival,
he was having sort of a granite revival.
Also along was a dude named Buggz...
he brought the Schaffer
I brought the nugz.
I figured they could walk five ten with swagger,
until the yell came down "Jefe's a sandbagger!".
So I met em on top with the dogs and a smoke,
guided the descent with stories and jokes.
These dudes were cool and I made new friends,
umm, hmmm.....
ok, the end.

Ideeho-dee-do-dah-day boom-chicka-boom-chicka-boom
Mar 8, 2010 - 02:45pm PT
Jam jam crank.
Clip flip breath.
Jam jam crank.

s x sw
Mar 8, 2010 - 02:56pm PT
Half Dome in a day
Aaron and I enter the fray
Sketchy early season snowfield
Leads to acres of crystal, vertical granite & psyche briefly healed
Eyes wide peeled
Fate shut, sealed
Summit mushrooms in our pack go uneaten
But the new moon stars were still unbeaten
Lovely assignment Tarek, you're a literary master
While I'm still a poetaster


Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
Mar 8, 2010 - 03:06pm PT

This whole thing stinks
A toke and a joke
What am I to think?

Trad climber
Berkeley, CA
Mar 8, 2010 - 03:49pm PT
TR: 2010-02-28 (Yosemite Cragging by Nutjob and Le_Bruce)

Le_bruce and I planned for the Center of Geek Tower,
but in the winter misty morning our spirits did cower.
So instead we took pictures and cruised over to Reed's...
At the turn-out the 'topians moved slow as our speed!

There we found scuffy and spyork and ablegable,
also susu and kev were at the table.
Breakfast on campstoves and leisurely starts,
with regales and climbing tales flowing from all parts.

When the time came we pulled on our gear,
I hiked to the base in flip-flops, I fear.
Le_bruce took the first lead on Reed's Direct,
and I had the nice second pitch next.

I wanted to finally get on the third,
the offwidth pitch where my pants risked a turd.
But alas the start was covered in water,
which cooled my resolve, I'd wait for days hotter.

But le_bruce led away on Bongs Away Left,
and I quickly followed that fun little cleft.
And then we set toprope for doing the Center,
of Bongs Away which was a nice short adventure.

We then set our sights on Chingando that day,
scuffy_b said we might need #6 on the way.
Well we didn't have it so I tried for a toprope,
but got lost in wet mossy chimneys - dope!

Away from Reed's, to Pat and Jack
Lots of fun for my first attack!
I linked Knobjob pitches one and two,
then we top-roped Book Em' Dano too!

As the light faded and cloud ceiling dropped,
We had but time for one little romp.
We set the top-rope on Generator Crack,
I wanted to stick it on my first whack.

I proceeded to flail, swinging past the tree,
A handful of times, even more maybe.
Le_bruce then took charge and got up quite high,
Using the tree by it made my confidence fly!

I then tried again, more humbly with the tree,
and used that baby as high as could be.
Eventually I grunted right into that crack,
and buried my leg past the knee, with handstacks.

And armbars, and whatever silliness I could contrive,
my body was trembling like an angry bee hive.
Somehow I got my right lower foot in the crack,
And proceeded to ratchet up it for a tack.

Then I was tired and it got more tough,
I came with bravado, it called my bluff.
I grunted and nearly pissed myself blind,
scratching for inches and bruised my behind.

Eventually I reached up high for a flake,
from which I could hang and give my arms a shake.
And that let me switch sides to get right-side-in,
and I finished that bad boy after an hour of hidin'.

We drove home that night, feeling all smug
Such a fine outing was like a drug
The first day of sunshine to visit in weeks,
We made the most of it, we two little geeks.

W. S.

Mar 8, 2010 - 04:06pm PT
Je suis allé au Russan, dans le Gard
Les voies y sont longue et costaude, aux départs
C'est un couenne sympa pour eu qui grimpe dans la 8
Avec les goujons partout et les pas durs aux sorties

La j'ai vu des mecs Americain et Anglais
Ils avaient pas de topo, et dans le 6 ils galèraient
Mais en face sud, dans l'abri du vent et en pleine soleil
On etait content de regarder et crier, "Allez!"

"I went to Russan, in the Gard
The routes there are long and burly at the start
It's a nice crag for those who climb 5.13
With bolts everywhere and cruxes near the top

There I saw some American and English dudes
They didn't have a topo, and they struggled with 5.10
But facing south, sheltered from the wind and bathed in sun
We were happy just to watch and scream, "Allez!""

Trad climber
Mar 8, 2010 - 04:17pm PT
Thanks for posting! You guys rock!
Know no fear no writer's block!
I could read your rhymes all day!
Keep'em coming! Yay! Hurray!

Topic Author's Reply - Mar 8, 2010 - 06:43pm PT
Some clearly have the knack
like gear, shaken from a pack
Fun reading these!
keep 'em comin' please
Mighty Hiker

Vancouver, B.C.
Mar 8, 2010 - 06:52pm PT
I think that I shall never see,
A mountain lovely as a tree.
In fact, if off this rock I fall,
I'll never see a tree at all.

Gym climber
berkeley, ca
Mar 8, 2010 - 06:55pm PT
Bravo, Mighty Hiker.


Topic Author's Reply - Mar 8, 2010 - 06:58pm PT
Mighty that's so nice I'm afraid it might pop into my head at some crux someday
Mighty Hiker

Vancouver, B.C.
Mar 8, 2010 - 07:04pm PT
Adapted from a famous poem by Joyce Kilmer called Trees, from his book Trees and Other Poems.

I think that I shall never see,
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest,
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear,
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Social climber
Paradise Island
Mar 8, 2010 - 07:12pm PT
Here are two reports on events from about 1965:

This one from Camp 4 Terror:

There once was a climber named Bridwell.
When climbing Grade 1's he did well.
But on a Grade 6,
He got in a fix
And rappeled to the talus and hid well.

That was a very good song
Sing us another one
just like the other one
Sing us another one do...

There once was a climber named Dozier
who was keenly attuned to exposure.
When stumped by the riddle
Of the Square Slot on Middle,
He suddenly lost his composure.

That was a very good song...

Social climber
Paradise Island
Mar 8, 2010 - 07:19pm PT
Here's a report that's set to music and commemorates Guido's, BooDawg's and our ladies' 1986 passage thru a violent storm, sailing from NZ to ... well, we ended up in the Cook Islands...

Before he was known as Guido, his friends knew him as Dr. McQuacken...

Dr. McQuacken (To the tune of "Casey Jones")

Come all you dieters we have right now
A program to help you lose some weight, and how!
If you have excess baggage that you'd like to lose,
Sign up with us for the Doctor's cruise.

Dr. McQuacken, hand upon the wheel;
Dr. McQuacken with the jib sheet in his hand;
Dr. McQuacken has the weight-loss program for you,
And you can't get off it 'til you reach dry land.

Oh, the doctor's wife, Nancy, she's a might fine cook.
She'll whip up any meal from the old cook book.
She make up any meal that your heart could wish,
But you still lose weight because you feed the fish.

The exercise program, it's a might fine treat.
You dance rock & roll to a windward beat.
You do isometrics with each move you make.
And to lose your cookies is a piece of cake.

You're up after midnight in the pouring rain.
The doctor's orders are to reef the main.
You pull in sail 'til you're soaking wet.
And there goes another seven pounds in sweat.

And when you've arrived at your port of call,
Your excess baggage, you'll have lost it all.
At the celebration party, there will be no lack,
And in one night of feasting, you will gain it back.

Hangin' by a thread and lookin' for my wings
Mar 8, 2010 - 07:34pm PT
Well laid were our plans
for that easy East Face
would demand a killer pace

From Portal to Peak
my partner knew the trail
he'd done this thing before
thrice without fail

But Murphy came with us
on that fateful day
and my partner's memory
was sadly MIA

We got lost in the bushwhack
we missed the Ledges
Boyscout Lake wasn't there
Where the hell were the sedges?

I almost bought the farm
on the slippery slabs of death
he argued with the map
we went right--shoulda gone left

At the Fresh Air Traverse
he turned into a panicky nut
he wanted to bail right there
rather than bivy in Stone Hut

This epic ends just fine
there was no blood shed
I slept between 2 farting strangers
but at least I had a bed

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