John Long decks at gym?

FALL ON PLASTIC - DRIVEN INDOORS BY INCLEMENT WEATHER - NO HARD HAT

Largo's gonna hafta get that MD kid of his to wave her magic chicken over this injury.

I gave up bouldering when I turned 50

He said he was pinching a puny wafer with maximum might when his foot, which was splayed out on a slanting rugosity, slipped.

I'm sure there will also be a cute nurse or two around Largo can regale with larger than life tales ;).

pinching a puny wafer with maximum might when his foot, which was splayed out on a slanting rugosity

check out his chalk bag, or is it too homo, Herr Braun?

no one ever broke their foot climbing outside...

From sympathy to parody in 24 hours.

Lesson: don't fall, especialy if you are old!

FALL ON PLASTIC - DRIVEN INDOORS BY INCLEMENT WEATHER - NO HARD HAT

He wastes no time, and scores of milling climbers freeze when he starts. He moves precisely, plugging his fingertips into shallow pockets on the 105-degree wall. I scrutinize his moves, taking mental notes on the sequence. He pauses at 50 feet, directly beneath the crux bulge. Splaying his left foot onto a slanting rugosity, he pinches a tiny rock wafer and pulls through to a gigantic bucket hold. He walks up the last 100 feet, which is only dead vertical. From the summit, Bacher flashes down a smile, awaiting my reply.

... Fifty feet passes quickly. Then, as I splay my left foot up onto the slanting rugosity, the chilling realization comes that, in my haste, I have bungled the sequence, that my hands are too low on that puny wafer that I'm pinching with waning power. My foot is vibrating and I'm desperate, wondering if and when my body will seize and plummet. A montage of black images floods my brain.

Cosmic, yer KILLING me over here dude!!!...

Do we all want the best for ourselves? If we do we might consider the possibility older bone breaks easily. And once broken they heal less and less perfectly. Listen to Darwin.

I first went to Yosemite Valley when I was seventeen years old, and continued to spend every summer there until I was twenty-five. The first thing I remember of the place was the Camp 4 parking lot, an oily acre crammed with the proudest medley of rust buckets imaginable. Among the really prime rigs was an ancient British step van that must have been parked on the street during the blitzkrieg; an old, dented, salt-pocked Cadillac, now a convertible thanks to a cutting torch; and a red VW van, broadsided, t-boned, rear- ended, and rolled, not a window in it, vice grips where the steering wheel should have been. Few of these ran without priming and a push start. There wasn't a treaded tire in the whole lot, and a live battery got passed back and forth like a gold brick. The license plates were from Canada, Colorado, California, New York -- most of these junkers having been babied down the road with little chance of ever reaching Yosemite, and no chance of ever leaving it.

I'm loopy but one thing is clear - there's a lot of love in the climbingg world, and I must be getting the bulk of it over the last few days. I am embarrassed to have raised others on this site only to have them wish me good cheer. Thanks to all, from the bottom of my heart. You are my heros.

Largo,
Your grace with the use of words is inspiring! I think it is great how you can elaborate so much on just one term. I can definitely read in your pens soul as being thoughtful, humble, patient, positive, provoking, mature and loving! Thank You! I can't wait for you to come over to the Lords side, You are surely to become a 21st-Century David!

Jus Thank'in!
BB