Daryl Hatten

Search
Go

Discussion Topic

Return to Forum List
This thread has been locked
Messages 21 - 40 of total 70 in this topic << First  |  < Previous  |  Show All  |  Next >  |  Last >>
daryl_hattens_daughter

climber
saskatchewan, canada
Oct 25, 2008 - 12:28pm PT
this is cool, i keeep finding more and more stories about my dad and some are hard to read because of heroin and stuff but theres nothing a can do about his past but it is good too see that so many people have good things to say about him, even though he didnt always lead a 'clean' life, keep adding stories if you have any
mazamarick

Trad climber
WA
Oct 27, 2008 - 03:37pm PT
I still remember Darryl's shopping spree with Pete Minks and Al Harris. After being confronted by the law and forfeiting all they "procured" at a local Fresburg store, the trio came back to the valley with only one item, a jock strap. Darryl proudly displayed his "codpiece" in front of the Mountain Room that evening. Just another evening at Yosemite Lodge. Too funny.
TrundleBum

Trad climber
Las Vegas
Oct 27, 2008 - 05:31pm PT


Great stories
Mine is bland but what a hey ?

Al Harris ? is that the same bloke as the Britt "Nipper" ?

One year a met a gal in the valley and we got to be sweet on each other.
One of the first nights we fooled around was in camp. We opted for camp because we had been cited twice in the boulders.

We were in a site by the 'near bath house' (remember when there was two)...

There were about five guys at the bath house sitting in the light drinking. They started to get really loud so my GF prompted me to go over and ask them to pipe down, which I did, or rather attempted to.

I don't recall who all was in their group other than Daryl and 'Nipper' Harris.

When I approached and asked if they could either pipe down or move to the parking lot, Nipper immediately started in with profane expletives and finally said "you have three choices, 1 - sit down and drink with us, 2 - STFU and go back to your site, 3 - persist and get sh#t beat out of you".

I said I think I will opt for not drinking with you guys as I would rather be in the bag making noise with my GF !

Where upon Hatten chimes in with something like:
"Noise ?... go back to your site and we'll give plenty of cover."


Robb

Social climber
Pick Up Truck Heaven
Oct 27, 2008 - 06:10pm PT
Anybody know who that is on the right in that photo? Kinda looks like a young BW.
Perry Beckham

climber
Mar 29, 2009 - 11:39am PT
I just posted this response in the original thread by Janelle.
We should compile our Daryl stories into some kind of book.

Perry


Janelle,

I'd heard about this forum for some time and finally took the time to read through the posts.

I met Daryl on Psyche Ledge in the spring of 76. I had just hitched up from Vancouver and was planning to rendezvous with Dave for a weekend of neophyte shenanigans (it's a wonder either of us survived that first season). It was late afternoon with the western sun finally warming the Grand Wall and the forested old highway and as I approached Psyche Ledge I saw two trolls sitting in the grass doing troll stuff. I mean, they had to be trolls, they had long shaggy hair and dirty headbands and were communicating in some hard to understand language while passing a bottle of straight Dark Navy Rum back and forth. I cautiously approached them and said hello. The red haired troll responded with a gruff but cheery, "Hi, how's it going man? I'm Daryl and this is Stewart, have a drink."

So began my friendship with the late great Daryl Hatten, aka Doug Fir, Chrome Molybdenum Man, Darly Halfweenie, PO Solo or whatever colorful moniker best suited the occasion.

Daryl and I became regular climbing partners through the late seventies and early eighties. He taught me many of the fundamentals of big wall climbing and was totally trustworthy.
Daryl was also an excellent free climber and a five hour romp up the Grand via Cruel Shoes back in the mid eighties stands out in my mind. Daryl and Eric Weinstein were the strongest rockclimbing team in Squamish at that time. Among their many accomplishments was the second ascent of the PO with Java and Kim, at that time, the hardest big wall in the world.

Daryl had a sharp wit and great sense of humour. He loved plays on words. We were bivied on the Artery Ledge while starting up a cool overhanging unclimbed wall. Daryl thought it looked just like a mini Shield Headwall and suggested we call the wall "The Panty Shield". We liked that and kicked around names for our yet unclimbed route. It was quite rainy and we felt a bit amphibious in our endeavours so a frog theme emerged. I was reading some Kurt Vonnegut at the time and he made reference to a character known as the Pan Galactic Straw Boss. As we lay there mouldering in our sodden bivi gear, smoking bunk we merged the amphibian with some Vonnegut and came up with the Pan Granitic Frogman. We laughed so hard we cried.
We left ropes fixed to our high point and before I could come back to finish the route, sprained my ankle taking a sixty footer of Rainy Day Dream Away while Daryl was holding the rope. Dary went back and finished the aid route with John Simpson.

I have so many fond memories of Daryl and the one that stands out in my mind was us riding borrowed bicycles from No Name Road to the base of the Chief for a one day ascent of the complete Black Dyke. It was four in the morning and we were wearing headlamps and packs and ropes, riding down the highway. There was Daryl pedaling furiously in front of me with his shaggy hair blowing in the wind, cackling back at me, "Beckham..... You're light!....Ha Ha Ha."

Another one that comes to mind was my arriving at the Apron Parking lot some time in the late seventies to find a distraught, elderly woman looking up at the rock. Feeling real concern, I asked her what was wrong. "I wish he wouldn't do that" she wept as she pointed up at a lone figure racing up Diedre unroped in the late afternoon sun. I knew it was Daryl climbing and immediately put two and two together. Daryl was soloing Diedre for his mom, with the remains of a six pack clipped to his belt.

Daryl and I went our separate ways and I hadn't seen him for a few years. I was saddened to hear of his death but not surprised by the nature of his demise. We'd expected to hear the word of an overdose, illness or foul play that went with the lifestyle. That Daryl died trying to save a cat stuck in a tree says everything about his huge heart and good qualities.

As I stood on top of the Chief with old friends, passing around Daryl's hammer and remembering him, I couldn't help notice the lives this gruff, sometimes trollish colorful character touched and inspired. Would that we could all be so well remembered.

I feel privileged to say that I knew Daryl Hatten and that we were friends and climbing partners.

Janelle, you can be proud of your dad, we all loved him and miss him.

Perry Beckham
Squamish BC






Ghost

climber
A long way from where I started
Mar 29, 2009 - 02:40pm PT
Hi Perry

Welcome to the funhouse -- and what a wonderful first post. Daryl touched us all, and took a little piece of all of us with him when he went.

David Harris (now in Seattle, but still at Squamish in my heart).
Steve Grossman

Trad climber
Seattle, WA
Mar 29, 2009 - 05:24pm PT
Fine words about a very fine man.

A warm ST welcome to you, Perry. Thanks for posting your recollections. Please contribute some more stories from your considerable career!

Last time I saw you, I had the pleasure of watching you float the 12a left side of the Split Pillar from above!
hooblie

climber
Mar 29, 2009 - 07:29pm PT
props to daryl, a man and his quest, eh? saddened by his passing and touched by janelle's thread which, gladly, full cycled into a ray of sunshine. hopeful newly wed's tug at my heartstrings too. best wishes. since the circle has been pitching in some stories, let me pose this one as a question and if daryl was indeed in on this ecapade there's just one of his friends and randy russell who could confirm it.

rainy c4 parking lot, the arrival of ranger danger, i hailed a manky little hillman or somesuch just departing with the jolly squamish crew, including my shield partner, randy, AKA rocketbox. a few bills were pooled and "r.box who art in the front seat" was the designated buyer of a gallon of gallo. his pre-existing tipsiness didn't play out in our favor as he appeared at the window with half the wine soaked into his bulky garb. he had lost his footing making the turn out of the store and smothered the jug as if a loose football. as the only unsloshed one on board i was called upon to make the buy with the second pool of cash, carefully negotiating the hazardous burgandied corner.

smuggly i poured wine into an empty beer can after topping up the boys with their indusrial size drinkware. i was prepared to maintain my status as paternalistic yankee from the back seat. off to a proper venue which was deemed to be BRIDALVEIL! as we crossed the merced. i was shocked, shocked i tell you to learn that judgement was so wrecked as to render the decision that the "SHORTCUT" should be taken. yAAAhh!! my chance to save myself at the expense of mere roadrash had already passed somewhere near the chapel. obviously stressed, my kindly neighbors comforted me with the reminder that speed is safety, eh? besides it's not like he hasn't got his lights on you know. nothing's 100% right? so this is MOSTLY a one way loop! really, their concern for the weak kneed american in the back seat was sincere, as it would have been if my contorted face had been due to contractions and the babies head was crowning. i failed to cut the paternalistic mustard....

very pleased to be alive, the falls were absolutely resplendent. blood refilled my pale areas and, feeling a little cocky, I took the tumbler from the still draining rocket leaving him to fill the stupid beer can. regaining the adult role, on the theory that you are what you asert. which is how mr. box came to be canadian for a while. if anyone knows or has a line on the one and the same dave petingil i would love to have your help..(OT)

that was my close one with daryl, or the spirit of him, though i certainly recognized him and his accomplishments. if indeed he was on board, then i can claim to have shared the most dangerous thing i ever did in yosemite with his legendary soul.



deuce4

climber
Hobart, Australia
Mar 29, 2009 - 08:15pm PT
Never met him, but of course Darrl was legendary. The story of riding though the cafe was oft told (though I heard it as that he rode through the Mtn Room Bar).

Greg Child's story of Daryl on the PO and the cigs after a particularly hard pitch was especially memorable (having read that prior to having led any hard aid, then thinking of it after every hard aid pitch subsequently!)
daryl_hattens_daughter

climber
saskatchewan, canada
May 17, 2009 - 11:17am PT
thanks guys, i am proud of him even though i never knew him, im glad he touched everyones lives in different ways and im happy he lived his short life to the fullest, but im sorry i had to miss it, thank you all for your storis, i keep checking back from time to time, its incredible the feedback when you type in "Daryl hatten", its so amazing thankyou thankyou thankyou!!!!!






survival

Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
May 17, 2009 - 01:40pm PT
Robb, sorry I missed your post earlier.
Yes, that is indeed a young Bob W. about the time I started climbing with him. Miss that guy.

Cool Hatten stories y'all. He definitely had his own thing going on. What a trip he was.....
martygarrison

Trad climber
The Great North these days......
May 17, 2009 - 07:12pm PT
Hooked up with Daryl in camp four in 77 I think. We spent a day at arch rock and did midterm and gripper together. He was quite the character!
daryl_hattens_daughter

climber
saskatchewan, canada
May 17, 2009 - 10:51pm PT
hahaha thanks lol i didnt think he 'hooked up' with my dad though, would seem a little out of character lol funny funny
Wayno

Big Wall climber
Seattle, WA
Apr 10, 2011 - 02:13am PT
Great stories.

Hatini bump.

That memorial still blows my mind. Every time I talk to Yerian these days we end up talking about that day on top of the Chief, and what a time it was.
The Larry

climber
Moab, UT
Apr 10, 2011 - 04:17am PT
Ah....the troubled soul looking to squeeze the lemon.

Cheers Daryl.
survival

Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
Apr 10, 2011 - 10:47am PT
Anymore Daryl Hatten stories would be appreciated!
Wayno

Big Wall climber
Seattle, WA
Apr 10, 2011 - 02:27pm PT
You nailed it, Bruce.
bmacd

Social climber
100% Canadian
Apr 10, 2011 - 05:03pm PT
Daryl belayed me when I led my first 5.12 pitch - thats probably why I pulled it off, just to save face less I fail in the eyes of "The Wall Master", hardman of hardmen ... etc etc
tom Carter

Social climber
Apr 11, 2011 - 02:16am PT
That's got to Fred East in the car with Man Zanita!
Ghost

climber
A long way from where I started
Apr 13, 2011 - 10:27am PT
Somebody brought up Daryl's contributions on the "Squamish in the 70s" thread, and I posted my first memory of him there. I'll repost it here cuz it belongs here too...

Sometime in the seventies, I don't remember exactly when, Daryl and I were sitting in the dirty drinking hole known as the Chieftain. I don't know who either of us had been climbing with that day, or how we came to be sharing a table that night. We didn't know each other, and I don't remember what we talked about. Climbs we planned to do, probably. I do remember being surprised to find that he wasn't what I had expected from the stories that I'd heard. Rough around the edges, sure. But mostly quiet and friendly -- hardly the wildman I'd been expecting.

Then, without warning, he jumped to his feet, and confronted two strangers who had just entered the bar. It was clear they were his friends, but his way of greeting one of them was pretty strange. He said something like, "Whhhoaa! Man." Then hit him. Hard -- really hard -- in the shoulder.

"Heeyyy! Man." The other guy responded, and pounded Daryl just as hard.

They must have taken three or four shots at each other, any of which would have collapsed me to the floor in pain. The other visitor sat down and introduced himself as Bill Price, and said Daryl's good friend was Big Wally. I think his real name was Mike, but even though I climbed with him the next day, I never did find out for sure.

Eventually Daryl and Wally stopped pounding each other and sat down, and we were joined by a few other climbers. But where Daryl had been relatively quiet earlier, he now switched into another mode. Loud and uncouth probably sums it up best. And where the conversation had earlier been mostly about climbs, for Daryl and Wally it quickly turned into a macho fest. Starting with, "I can outdrink you, easy."

Boat races followed. The two seemed evenly matched, both able to swallow a glass of beer faster than I'd ever seen it done before. I don't remember what other tests they gave each other, but eventually it boiled down to something along the lines of "None of that sh#t matters. I'm just plain harder than you."

At which point Daryl pushed up a sleeve and slammed one of his forearms down on the table. I guess Wally didn't know Daryl as well as he thought, because he went for it. He pushed up his own sleeve and laid his bare forearm on the table, tight against Daryl's.

I didn't know what macho ritual I was about to witness, but what I saw was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Daryl picked up his cigarette, drew hard on it till the end was glowing bright red, then laid it down in the groove of their matched forearms.

Wally was tough, I guess. He had to be, not to jerk his arm away right away. He held on longer than I, and probably any of you could have. Hair burned, then flesh burned, then finally Wally gave up. And throughout it all, Daryl not only didn't flinch, he laughed.

Many of you knew Daryl better than I did. I was certainly never a close friend, but I ran into him regularly enough after that. Sometimes he was the quiet guy I'd been having a beer with at the beginning of that first evening, and sometimes he was the outrageous wildman he turned into toward its end. I often wondered which was the "real" Daryl, not realizing what most of his friends had probably figured out long ago, that he was both, and both were him.

That night, all I could think was how amazing it was that all the punches he took, and the burning flesh, didn't hurt. These decades later I know they did hurt. Daryl could just take it better than anyone else.
Messages 21 - 40 of total 70 in this topic << First  |  < Previous  |  Show All  |  Next >  |  Last >>
Return to Forum List
 
Our Guidebooks
spacerCheck 'em out!
SuperTopo Guidebooks

guidebook icon
Try a free sample topo!

 
SuperTopo on the Web

Recent Route Beta