Piton Ron
Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
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Topic Author's Original Post - Jan 30, 2012 - 10:54am PT
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My infatuation with the Valley of Fire began in New York City when I was sitting in Loew's Orpheum at age 12 watching the Richard Brooks film, The Professionals, with Conrad Hall's incredible cinematography of the western landscape.
I didn't even realize it, but I imprinted on the place because the Burt Lancaster character, Bill Dolworth, the mercenary explosives expert, had immediately become one of my heroes. Even today when I watch the film and see the then 53 year old Lancaster batman up 50' of rope I'm impressed (and he did it for at least 3 takes!).
But then, he had been in the circus before becoming an actor.
To a 12 year old boy the film is a western adventure, but through more mature eyes it is an enduring parable about honor and friendship.
Hall and Brooks both got Oscar nominations for it (and both won the following year for their subsequent collaboration on In Cold Blood).
Years later when I happened across the place where it was filmed (and this is more than 3 decades ago) I did not at first make the connection. It just seemed vaguely familiar.
As always seems to be the case I wouldn't appreciate what I had until much of it was gone.
The main feature is a reef, a long line of barrier rocks composed of colorful Aztec sandstone stretching about 20km in a curve.
Though rarely exceeding 100m in height the technical summits number well into the dozens, and many remain virgin due as much to poor rock as difficulty.
But the rocks are not as remote as they used to be.
Throughout the '80s I pretty much had the place to myself. A few other people rode the reef on horseback or with ORVs, but meetings were rare. I mostly just read sign to know who had passed.
But by the '90s the ORVs had gotten more numerous. The towns to the north were promoting the trail rides because it brought revenue in. Then suddenly I discovered after a year's absence that the paved road had been extended from the south many kilometers into the reef by the state park people as well.
This was not only bad because of the influx of litterbugging yahoos tearing up the cryptogams.
I had discovered the hard way in 1986 that the authorities who were supposed to ride herd on said yahoos were even worse out of control unethical pigs.
The 25 page complaint that I subsequently filed in federal court which enumerated the beatings and other abuses that I endured for 36 hours at their hands ground through the system slowly until I testified.
For an hour and a half unprompted by my attorney I detailed the experience with such accuracy and detail and unmistakable candor that the attorneys representing Clark County and the State of Nevada already knew that they had lost.
It was just a question of how much.
But in retrospect I made one giant error. I hadn't turned to the judge and told him that dollar damages were secondary to me. That I needed to see the officers that had hogtied and beaten me, then dumped me out of a wheelchair, and then kicked me in the head all put up on criminal charges.
I would have been willing to let all the other lesser abuses slide, but I had to see some justice and accountability.
In the end nobody was charged. I got $9,000 damages and much experience.
But the story hardly ends there.
My 25 page complaint was used in subsequent federal civil rights complaints against the same authorities to demonstrate a pattern of abuse.
A female prisoner who required a colostemy after being kicked by an officer got major bucks.
I don't know if it served to modify the behavior of the authorities, or whether they just learned to hide abuse better.
My bet is on both.
In the years that followed an uneasy truce ensued. I didn't climb next to the road and never once saw them in the backcountry where I liked most to climb.
Doubtless they saw me as a criminal, but I knew that they were.
To give you an idea of just how whacked the state park people were then try on the logic of only allowing unroped climbing.
A guy I knew took a guided scramble up one of the mesas near the visitor center and asked Ranger Jim, who was guiding the hike, why safety ropes were not allowed and the ranger said, at the same time the guy noted ironically that he was tromping through a big virgin bed of crytogams blithely ignorant of the permanence of his tracks, that 'they were concerned about the impact'.
Apparently he was unaware of the damage just feet could do.
He should have talked to that female prisoner!
Anyway, after the paved road got extended it ran right by a number of routes that I had put up over the previous years using either an ORV or even the NVA trick of packing the 40 kilo load of gear on both sides of a bicycle and walking it out the trail, in a few cases leaving rap anchors visible.
No doubt the rangers had to field questions from aspirant climbers who had spotted them.
Were they vestiges of a previous civilization? Proof of aliens from the dark side of the moon?
Mercifully the best place to climb with the coolest rock was still the most remote.
And then there were the raids,...
Using the paved road to access rock not visible (in some cases just around a corner) was referred to as a "raid". One parked at a diversionary location and then quietly slipped out of sight with all the ropes, harnesses and gear hidden inside of the packs.
You can always tell the people that don't climb in politically sensitive areas.
They have climbing stickers on their cars.
As for impact on the rock,... I have always tried to create durable enjoyable climbs. My impact is minimal.
And I think we all know that the REAL reason the rangers don't like to see climbers is because it rubs their noses in their own inadequacies. There is territorial resentment when climbers go places on "their turf" which the rangers can't even reach.
At the end of the day though, with a place like Red Rocks an hour away, Valley of Fire will always be a dark horse backwater also ran.
But it is lower, warmer, sunnier, less crowded, and much closer to Utah than RR and it has drawn me often in winters past. The outlying flat country makes for good rifle shooting terrain, and so it was three years ago that when my greek friend from New York City, Minas, wanted to come out with his younger son for some warm winter shooting in the desert. We found a nice location between the park and the indian reservation.
Minas and Minas jr literally had a blast. We shot not only pistols, rifles and shotguns, but I borrowed a friend's suppressed Mac 11 (the same submachine I was shooting at night with tracers in my R&I interview).
The spot we used for shooting already had a trail running to it and required a bit of cleaning up, but tucked away nicely it served well, and we would return often.
It would thus become known as the Firebase.
No sooner had Minas returned east than we planned another in May.
This time he came with his brother who, sadly, was in a funk over a failed marriage.
Ironic in that on the previous trip Minas had toyed with a Hilton parking valet before slipping him a $20 saying, "You want a tip??,............... Don't get married!"
Minas would shortly be in the same boat and, until it was settled, would have to leave his gun collection in police custody. He hadn't done anything wrong. I don't get New York. But anyway he would be that much more into coming out to shoot my guns.
With this get together in early May I also invited the subgun's owner Mike with his son Alex (9) and my old partner Ron with wife Kathleen and three daughters 6-13.
Ron had to work and would pull in late the first night, and by 8:30 while waiting for him Mike's potent margaritas had prematurely done him in.
Mike and Alex were already snoring and Minas and I decided a little mischief was in order,..
We mixed up an enormous batch of tannerite, put it out on the range, and then positioned a flashlight to the side pointing at the tannerite.
We then turned out all the other lights and readied the bolt action on the rest.
Crack. KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!~!~!~~~^*%#&%$W#*#$)%)&
Mike comes flying out of his sleeping bag in the dark screaming WTF!! and Minas and I are clutching our sides in laughter.
Meanwhile Ron is about a mile and a half away holding the written directions under the dome light with his window open trying to spot the trail which cuts left when suddenly there is a bright flash on the horizon and 7 seconds later a loud boom.
He turns to the wife and girls and says, "Looks like we are close."
We had a lot of fun that weekend. The girls were great, and they had brought their miniature dachshund, Daisy, along.
At first I was afraid that the gunfire would cause the dog to run off and hide, but I could not have been more wrong. It seemed to instinctively know not to go in front of the firing line, but excitedly barked whenever we fired. It really enjoyed the noise.
I told Ron how surprising it was, but he was nonplussed. "Well,.. it IS a german breed."
Well into the nineties it was too hot to day trip into the park to climb and we clustered under awnings.
Guns had to be kept in the shade or would become too hot to hold.
Not so the next time 8 months later.
My longtime friend from the AMGA, Mark, came up from J Tree with Martha and young son Micholi, and though daytime temps approached 60 the nights were long and cold.
First light would see me driving 10 minutes into the Res for a short stack and almost passable coffee.
This was to be the trip where Micholi learned that taking a premature shot with the new Henry kid's rifle without waiting for dad to come over from the tent means no more shooting for the trip! Had it been my dad the consequences would have been more severe.
The Mixter is bummin.
Instead, he and mom scramble up a nearby peak of close to 1,000' with a 2 way radio.
This time before setting off the tannerite we warn them on the radio.
The concussion echoes and rolls through the valley and Micholi's voice comes on the radio excited. He is having fun again.
Here is a photo from another trip, but the peak is visible on the left;
The ground was regrettably rough and hard at the Firebase which had now entered "construction" phase with a primitive plywood platform for sleeping on and prone shooting.
The next month somebody else used the spot and extended the 8' square platform into a partially walled cube.
It could now be used for shade, shelter, shooting or whatever.
It looked like a popsicle stand so I came back with paint and did a crude camo job.
Here is a shot from a later trip of Minas and myself sorting brass with the cube tarped and clamped for temporary shelter, but the camo can be seen. The platform is level but the photographer seems to have had a few.
The following month the Firebase would see a gathering of over a dozen climbers with a raid that even netted an ascent of the forbidden fruit, one of the now banned rocks.
But for other reasons it would be a debacle of dismaying proportion leaving me shocked and disappointed with several climbers I had previously respected for decades.
For that reason I have used alternate names.
But first I want to see why photos are taking so long to load, so I am going end part one and post up.
More TRs to come, to be continued
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crunch
Social climber
CO
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Jan 30, 2012 - 11:18am PT
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Hey, great story Ron. Looking forward to more. Thanks!
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Piton Ron
Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
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Topic Author's Reply - Jan 30, 2012 - 02:38pm PT
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Well this dropped off the front page so fast I can hear the wind whistling through the buckbrush.
Maybe I should just finish the story over a couple of pints with you crunch.
Maybe if I chopped a few bolts,...
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Jeremy
Social climber
Albuquerque, NM
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Jan 30, 2012 - 02:41pm PT
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More climbing shots...less gun nut shots should get this back on the front page where it belongs Ron!
;-)
MORE CLIMBING PICS!
Jeremy
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couchmaster
climber
pdx
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Jan 30, 2012 - 02:45pm PT
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Holy crap Ron, great post. Frikkan awesome of you to share it with up!!!!
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jogill
climber
Colorado
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Jan 30, 2012 - 03:52pm PT
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Wow, quite a saga!
I've hiked through the canyon where they did some filming on The Professionals a couple of times. It's a short, fairly tight canyon and they filmed it several instances on a supposedly long trip, coming out into Death Valley! There's still the remnants of a hacienda wall built for the movie. It's a wonderful place to hike, with gorgeous scenery. I never even tried to climb there - it is more of a scenic walking/scrambling area. Twice I've passed film crews from India at the same spot in different years.
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the albatross
Gym climber
Flagstaff
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Jan 30, 2012 - 04:48pm PT
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Ron,
Thanks for sharing this special place with us.
I felt as if I were climbing some of those fiery spires.
Didn't I once see photos of Layton climbing there?
Albert
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Jody
Mountain climber
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Jan 30, 2012 - 04:56pm PT
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Speaking of filing complaints, I am filing one for not properly crediting the photo you thief!:)
Here are a couple that don't have that haze on them.
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Piton Ron
Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
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Topic Author's Reply - Jan 30, 2012 - 05:35pm PT
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Nice guy. Saving the good ones for yourself, huh?
You aren't the only guy with a camera.
Jalapeno Tower is only a short walk from your hacienda wall, jogill;
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Riley Wyna
Trad climber
A crack near you
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Jan 30, 2012 - 05:46pm PT
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I think about this place all the time.
Wish we would have had a Sushi Fest there after all...like you wanted..
I've gotta check out the place soon!!
Next trip out Vegas way....
Cheers Brother...
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Piton Ron
Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
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Topic Author's Reply - Jan 30, 2012 - 06:13pm PT
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Well it is funny you should say that because the next chapter in the Firebase chronicles would be the fiasco of March , '10 which was supposed to be like a sushifest but instead with high end cooked food for those that were bait challenged.
Turns out that a number of them were ethically and etiquettely challenged as well.
And that was even before the accident with the submachine gun.
I wonder if I should bother to detail it.
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Ezra Ellis
Trad climber
WA, & NC & Idaho
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Jan 30, 2012 - 06:20pm PT
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Ron,
Thanks for a great TR, sorry to hear the rangers were such Dicks to you, They beat you and pushed you out of a wheel chair? Wow.
I love the valey of fire, my kids love it too!!!
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Ezra Ellis
Trad climber
WA, & NC & Idaho
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Jan 30, 2012 - 07:29pm PT
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Ezra Ellis
Trad climber
WA, & NC & Idaho
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Jan 31, 2012 - 08:48pm PT
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bump for a great TR!
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Wayno
Big Wall climber
Seattle, WA
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Don't give up so soon Ron, I, for one, am enjoying your tales. I don'y know the country but it looks and sounds special, maybe not in a good way, but interesting nonetheless.
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Piton Ron
Big Wall climber
Toquerville, Utah
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 2, 2012 - 03:20pm PT
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The debacle probably began after Albert offered to pick up Clayton and bring him to a rendezvous. Word got out to his friends in Vegas and soon the Vegans wanted in.
George was the Vegan elder.
Long resented for bagging all the best lines with Maestri like ladders of bolts spaced 18" apart, it is easier to understand when one bears in mind his diminutive 4'1" frame and that he was actually present when the rocks were formed and so was able to exercise first pick.
After giving up his vows as a Jesuit Priest he married a Korean mail order bride, Joan, and they had a son Dooey.
He called me up wanting info and I explained the deal. Like SushiFest but with high end cooked food instead at $30/person/day for up to three days.
He said he wanted to come with the wife and kid but wanted to bring his own food.
I explained NO DEAL. Told him he was either on the bus or off it, and that I didn't want to turn this thing into a clusterfuque.
He hemmed and hawed.
There was a problem.
It was going to be Dooey's 19th birthday and he wanted to bring his friend Huey.
I told George that the same $30 deal applied.
He had to call me back.
Eventually he says there is a third friend Louey.
Same deal. I suggest he not attend.
But George really wants to attend and agrees to the terms, asks me to reserve five slots, and asks for directions.
When I tell him that he will need to write them down he says "Go ahead" just a little too quickly. I know he's trying to play the "I know my way all over southern Nevada so just tell me" routine.
I told him again he would need to write them down and asked him if he had paper ready.
His affirmative response has an annoyed tone so I begin the complicated directions. After a couple of minutes he says, "Wait a second" and I hear the rustle of paper, but instead of admitting that he was lying to me and asking me to start again he tries to quickly scrawl from memory.
And he gets the mile marker wrong even though I had told him twice!
As the day approaches I load a rented van with the works including monstrous coolers packed with King crab, bison and beef steaks, chicken, loads of produce, high end baked products etc.
Arriving early I set up the camp with the help of my old partner Kevin.
But after less than an hour I trip over a rock and badly sprain my ankle. There will be no climbing for over a month.
Mid-afternoon Albert shows with Clayton and the four of us circle the lawn chairs in front of the popsicle stand drinking beer, chatting and waiting for the convoy of vegans.
The others aren't scheduled to arrive until the following day.
We are renting an RV for the wimpified, and George is supposed to pick it up (and Mike drop it off).
Finally the RV crests the trail 3 hours late.
Before I can organize the vehicle spaces Joan takes her Suburban and tears through desert plants that won't grow back in her kid's lifetime. It was totally unnecessary but I am soon to find that Vegas climbers seem to be,.. conservationally challenged.
George is accusatory, insisting that I told him the wrong mile marker. What a putz! If he hadn't lied to me he would have gotten it right.
When I limp back to the lawn chairs there is now an enormous steaming pile of crap.
George not only showed up with an extra unplanned person but also a dog the size of a pony.
When I call George over to clean up after his dog he says, "Are you sure it wasn't there already?"
"George! We were sitting here waiting for you!"
It is spitting distance from the cooking area.
Albert, Kevin and I get started on dinner prep with only 20 minutes of light left.
Most of the others run riot, not offering to help. They build a second fire pit, start a bonfire and party.
Dinner gets done, if somewhat delayed, and everybody gets fed.
I'm beat and sack out big time.
The next morning the vegans come to in the dirt and, rather than help with breakfast, they dash of to Vegas!
They return at 10:30 and present a half eaten box of bagels.
I don't realize it at that point, but they intend to use it as justification for not paying their share of the cost.
Total dick move.
But that isn't all.
Apparently the night before it had been popular to throw one's empty beer into the fire!
Where do these people come from?
Where are the parents?
Uh,.. oh. Never mind. They were right there!
The pit is filled with and surrounded by broken glass, burnt cans and garbage!!
I give George a dressing down and he says they will clean it up and henceforth keep things clean.
He is lying on both counts, yet again.
After a half hearted clean up the surly offending youths wander off, and I have to tell George that it won't do.
Because I can't walk I give directions to Jalapeno to the climbing team of Kevin, Albert, Joan and Clayton, and warn them about letting the rangers see.
Instead, they try a 200' line next to the road that Clayton likes and only luck out because the rangers are preoccupied with some felony car stop.
Clayton and I have similar eyes for a line.
So similar in fact, that on the second pitch he was dismayed to find a drilled angle that I had left on the FA. LOL
(finally got him back for those routes in Monument Canyon!)
The rest of the gang intend to hang out and shoot rifles.
Over the years I have explored the surrounding country, and hiked the length of the valley.
I even consolidated some of the trails, and built cairns to reduce braiding.
George and Dooey want to set up some long range shooting, and I ask them to carry a 2 way radio and the laser rangefinder out the valley.
When they are several hundred meters out I talk to George on the radio.
" Could you stop and give me a reading?"
"But there is no backstop."
"I know. I just want to get an idea of the distance so far."
"But there is no backstop."
"Yes. I heard you. But I just want to get a rough idea of the range."
"I think I see a backstop ahead. Hold on."
But it doesn't pan out.
"George, at this point you are pretty far. How about giving me a reading just to get an idea?"
"But there is no backstop."
"I heard you the third time, but I just want a quick reading."
"But there is no BACKSTOP!!"
" George, please stop saying that. Just, PLEASE, stop a moment and take a reading."
"But why should I if there is no backstop?"
"Because I'm asking you to."
"BUT WHY. THERE IS NO BACKSTOP!!!"
I now wonder what result I might have gotten if I had said, "Well, thats OK, George. I have an alternate idea. I know how much these 180gr rounds drop. So I'm going to aim at a point about 50' over your heads, and you tell me how close they are coming and I'll do the math.
Ready?"
Eventually they were out of laser range and after a mile George excitedly comes on the radio.
"There is a sort of road out here. There are piles of rocks next to it."
"Do you think maybe it curves through the valley and connects to the trail with the similar cairns back here?"
There is a long pause.
"oh"
"Thanks for your help George. Good thing I've at least got an odometer."
When the climbing team returns I get the story. We have dinner at a reasonable hour, but again there is little help besides the usual players.
Again I am not big on getting my clothes smoky. At the box I listen to the Allman Brothers Live and hoot with the crowd noise after the songs.
Dooey comes over and, sneering, tells me I sound like a little girl.
Bold birthday boy insulting the gimp host.
At least the next morning the fire pit has no garbage.
This day's shooting has me breaking out the accurized Mini 14, and after I hit a metal target at 200m ten times in eight seconds Dooey loudly states, "You ought to let me shoot that gun."
I am tempted to tell him it is only for little girls, but ignore him.
The rockets everybody enjoyed the night before prompted Mike to run to the Res.
But instead of "big show, small clean up" rockets he gives Alex a lighter and packs of these things that just fizzle and leave shards of paper and plastic everywhere.
Albert sees the ten year old get out of the car, go over, and deliberately try to light a bush on fire!
Fortunately everything was damp.
But the rest of the day's shooting was not without incident.
As rangemaster Mike abandoned his post leaving a .50 caliber bolt action with ammo in the sole custody of Huey, Dooey and Looey.
This, after first removing it from its case and muzzle sweeping four of us with a gun capable of taking out an M111 armored troop carrier.
But even these pale in comparison to earlier.
I ask you, who leaves a loaded clip in a cased submachine gun that operates from an open bolt, and then whips it out with finger on trigger?
More than a dozen rounds go BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAP! into the ground around the gun cases! Nobody hit.
Unfortunately I have observed a longer string of incidents of unsafe gun handling by Mike. He made me nervous.
The final evening after dinner the weather is threatening so I limp around battening things down. Good move. It rains over an inch that night, and I get to spend one night in the RV.
The next morning there is much to be packed, but I'm hardly started when everybody fires up their engines. Mike comes over and I hand him a stack of cash for the RV, but he pockets the cash and leaves the $293 dollars on my charge card when he returns it.
As everybody drives out in a line I start to limp over to the fire pit.
Then I see it.
An unmistakable, emphatic PHUCK YOU! from the vegans.
There is twice as much broken glass and garbage as on the first morning!!!
It is all over the place.
There is even a third fire pit!
I spent near 2 hours on my knees just at the main pit cleaning up. Most of the rest of the day on the site, getting home too late to call George.
The following evening I gave him a piece of my mind, and asked him why he respected me so little as to behave that way.
He never did have an answer.
No doubt he told Mike how I felt.
I now haven't heard from my good friend in two years.
Fortunately I learned some lessons.
That May I went back and climbed in Valley of Fire with Albert, Kevin, and Clayton, and we had one hell of a good time.
Clayton, Kevin and I then met up with Conor and Jello for a night in Mesquite with a 5 star dinner.
Then we showed Zion to Clayton.
We even went back to where it all began, screening The Professionals for the gang.
Perhaps if Cosmic has read this he will understand better why that fall at Xmas Tree I was uptight about unplanned arrivals.
But I had many more good trips to the Firebase and will come back and post about them, but first I have to get the photo of Minas doing his Lord Of The Dance routine on the upper deck, and the nigh time video of exploding the propane tank with a lit flare next to it.
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Cosmiccragsman
Trad climber
AKA Dwain, from Apple Valley, Ca. and Vegas!
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GREAT story, Ron!
Next gathering, I'll bring the MORTORS. :)
And, I, DO, Understand.
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Fluoride
Trad climber
West Los Angeles, CA
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Ron, I know had one hell of an adventure out there!
It's a very interesting place. Love your stories in person but reading them is great too...the next best thing!
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thudge
climber
CO
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Great writing Ron, I enjoy your tales!
Keep it up, looking forward to more………
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Ezra Ellis
Trad climber
WA, & NC & Idaho
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Great stories Ron,
I guess trashy parents breed trashy kids.
I'd woop my kids if they ever littered!
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