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James
climber
A tent in the redwoods
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Topic Author's Original Post - Sep 28, 2006 - 03:13pm PT
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Once upon a time, not that long ago, maybe even this summer, there were two foreign rock-climbing brothers. They spent the warm months in Yosemite sieging the towering granite walls, trying to topple them. The brothers were an odd pair, one was a raven-haired Fabio and the other, he was a cigarette smoking hungry wolf. They refused to walk in Yosemite Valley; they swaggered instead. Their plans for this season was to win the Grand Prix of the Yosemite Pissing Contest.
The Nose of El Capitan has a fitting name. It splits the face of the granite monolith in half, beginning straight and steep at the top before gently broadening to Gallic proportions at the bottom. The first ascent of the formation had been made in an epic six months but it had been whittled down to a mere two and half hours by competitive speed demons. Shaving a few seconds of stubble from the face would garner the head chair at the table in the cafeteria, and a fan club of slinky tassels. The foreign brothers were keen.
They set about the task in their normal style, marking every rugosity on the stone so that might know exact gear and foot placements. The route was dumbed down to levels of mild mental retardation; a child on the route would require only slight supervision to ascend it. Film crews with grasshopper cranes hung from the face to capture the brothers flashing by. Ostentatious to say the least.
There were two other climbers, both short, who despite their small stature had enormous strength and ability. They were locals. El Capitan was a training ground for greater expeditions afar for them and one day they decided to jaunt up the Nose, a fitting place for their calisthenics. They packed their bags lightly, anticipating a mere day on the wall and a night at the bar. They scurried up the rock face making time post-haste. As they moved past the nasal cavities and into the cartilage of the climb, the two gnomes became disgusted with the atrocities on the walls. There were long blotches of chalk, which could be seen from the meadow far below, scrawled onto the wall marking handholds. They saw so many tics they feared Lyme disease. As one of the Lilliputian climbers led up the route the other contemplated the graffiti. After a few moments he was struck by an impish idea. He erased the tic mark at his head and painted another six inches higher on the bald granite. His partner soon called up to him, they hiked to the top of the cliff, and headed to the bar for some well deserved lagers.
The next morning, the foreign brothers sashayed into the cafeteria and announced to anyone with ears that they were going for the record. "Ve vill climb it very, very, vast," said the brother who looked like a raven-haired Fabio. The hungry wolf let a rolled cigarette fall from his mouth while he snarled. They packed their bags and donned their quickest climbing gear, a pair of leather pants for Fabio's doppelganger and tight g-string briefs for his brother.
They started to climb with scores of onlookers. Cameramen dangled from the cliff, the rock monkeys of the Valley gawked from the nearby bridge, and ladies swooned from the grassy meadow. They were making excellent time, hitting their marks within milliseconds. They climbed boldly and with arrogance. They stopped only to flash smiles at the camera, scorning protection. Two-thirds of the ways up the route, the foreign brothers were in position to win the race. The hungry wolf was sprinting up the rock, lurching between handholds, using every mark to perfection as his brother climbed speedily behind. He spotted a long tic painted onto the wall and rocketed toward it. But his paw merely scraped against the smooth rock. For a moment he was weightless, a European Wily E. Coyote, and then he lobbed, flying through the air past his brother fifty feet below. He logged more airtime than a 747. Everything reached the end when his ass landed squarely on a ledge seventy-five feet away.
The circus packed up and the brothers limped back to the ground. The cameramen stored their reels, the rock monkeys went in search of bananas, and the ladies shrugged their shoulders tired of hearing about the astral bodies of Bavaria.
On this day all the people in Yosemite learned that it's never a good idea to have huberis.
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mooch
Big Wall climber
The Immaculate Conception
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Sep 28, 2006 - 03:21pm PT
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This will clean up nicely if Ouch was the illustrator.
Off to the WoS thread....
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Mungeclimber
Trad climber
one pass away from the big ditch
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Sep 28, 2006 - 03:46pm PT
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either that or not to tell anyone that you moved a tick mark.
i'd say tell them, but not which one. hubris can be a two edged sword.
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G_Gnome
Boulder climber
Sick Midget Land
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Sep 28, 2006 - 04:18pm PT
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All HAIL my fellow Gnomes! A good deed done is never forgotten.
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graham
Social climber
Ventura, California
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Sep 28, 2006 - 04:26pm PT
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Funny story.
What lengths will people go to for a record?
Don’t they know all the prep work counts against their final time.
Sounds like a record for the slowest ascent to me… oh yeah never mind they didn’t make it
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the Fet
climber
A urine, feces, and guano encrusted ledge
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Sep 28, 2006 - 05:08pm PT
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They saw so many tics they feared Lyme disease.
Nice.
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pc
climber
East of Seattle
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Sep 28, 2006 - 05:45pm PT
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Slugs and Redwoods make for a creative environment don't then?
Nice yarn. ;) I liked the "so many tics..." line. Didn't like the g-string image though.
Has anyone climbed El Cap in a g-string? (only)
pc
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Matt
Trad climber
places you shouldn't talk about in polite company
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Sep 28, 2006 - 06:21pm PT
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not sure why:
-a guy who took a big fall while free soloing a very viewable/public route would/could ever berate anyone for 'hubris'
--that same guy (or anyone else) would think that the idea of intentionally contributing to the injury of another climber is a humourous affair
---someone who has actually decked himself wouldn't see it that way too
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yo
climber
The Eye of the Snail
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Sep 28, 2006 - 07:01pm PT
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Alex, Ich habe ein kampf in mein lederhosen. Schnell!
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caughtinside
Social climber
Davis, CA
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Sep 28, 2006 - 07:05pm PT
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I'm having a battle in my leather shorts. Stop!
???
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yo
climber
The Eye of the Snail
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Sep 28, 2006 - 07:08pm PT
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I'm fluent.
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caughtinside
Social climber
Davis, CA
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Sep 28, 2006 - 07:13pm PT
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that is just fantastic. your Jerman is Just as good as mine. what a coincidence.
Schnell!!
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Clint Cummins
Trad climber
SF Bay area, CA
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Sep 28, 2006 - 07:43pm PT
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schnell = hurry (not stop)
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caughtinside
Social climber
Davis, CA
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Sep 28, 2006 - 07:44pm PT
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Danke.
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JOEY.F
Social climber
sebastopol
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Sep 28, 2006 - 10:33pm PT
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Sponge Cake and Schnaaps!
Nice!
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