Yesterday was the one year anniversary of Bob's death, so I thought I'd poke this thread and add something from the archives. This is a bit of an experiment so bear with me if I don't get it right the first time.
Here's three pages of an unpublished epistle he wrote about top roping entitled "Five Killer Top Ropes" The notes about the five climbs are handwritten on yellow tablet stock, scrawled rather than written, but I could post that too. There's also a bunch of other choppy re-writes and handwritten drafts, perhaps best send to the BVB Archives at Mesa Community College in San Diego.
Credit: Off White
Credit: Off White
Credit: Off White
For the record, his five top rope choices were:
Rambo Roof - Smith Rocks
Dominatrix Without Mercy - Cochise Stronghold
The Lie Detector - Mt Woodson (though Mother Superior was in the running)
Short Circuit - Yosemite Valley
Leave It To Beaver - Joshua Tree
Cool stuff, Off White. Always thought the crags would be a better place if top roping was as highly honored as rap bolted leads. I always enjoyed the top rope circuit with Bob back in the day—maximum density of hard climbing per hour of cragging!
Bob was definitely a pioneer in lots of aspects...
Thanks Off White
I remember Brooke waxing on approx 85-86 about BVB and how he really had that TR thing figured out. Brooke was no slouch at it either.
I am lagging with this, but I honestly didnt think of it until now. I went to Bob's memorial service and said a few words, talked to his mom and brother and cried alot, because I counted Bob as one of my best friends.
I met Bob through Michael Paul in 73 or 74. He was a brash and abrasive smartass who was already leading 5.9 when I started climbing. The next time i saw Bob was at Mission Gorge. I was in the middle of my first lead ever, a 75 foot tall 5.3 aptly called "The Stairs".
I was about 40 feet up the route and placing my 6th or 7th piece of protection when Bob came around the corner. He called up to me "Hey bub everything ok up there?" and not because he was concerned, lol. I was too gripped to answer.
Bob then put on his shoes and proceeded to free solo the 5.6 "Trauma" which was about 8 feet to my left. Bob zipped up the route making noises that would have been funny had i not been frozen with fear. Then he soloed it again, and then a third time, that time cutting his feet loose at the crux with a loud "WHOA!" That was Bob, with his acid but hilarious sense of humor.
The San Diego climbing community was small and close knit back then, and we all ended up climbing together because there were really only two climbing areas back then, Mission Gorge and Santee. As I got better I burned Bob every chance I got and he returned the favor. We both found it impossible to offend each other, so we began to try harder. Nothing was off limits. Insults and comments that would make most people blanch or get sick were routine, and when either of us scored a victory we would shamelessly gloat in the most demeaning way we could manage.
When Bob moved away we kept up a hilarious and sometimes disgusting stream of correspondence to continue our quest for the ultimate debasement of each other. Collages, drawings, photos, raves scrawled in crayon etc were exchanged and replies immediately sent. In this way we bonded, and when Bob and I saw each other again we were fast friends.
Bob and I started climbing together when we could, talking about everything from the absurd to the profundities of life, philosophy and religion. We confided in each other and used each other as a sounding board. In time we truly began to treasure our friendship and we said so. Bob filled a niche in my life that nobody else was capable of filling.
I was the last person to climb with Bob, at Santee. Both now old men, we sucked on the rock but really enjoyed each others company. Bob was fraill but we talked about making a comeback. We were going to start bouldering once a month and get strong. He unburdened himself about his struggles with alcohol (he had finally beaten it) and how that affected those around him. I just listened, grateful that i could provide the sympathetic ear he needed.
My tears fall as i write this, because that was the last favor i did for Bob and the last time that I saw him. Bob was a completely unique character. He was a gifted writer, great climber, family man and loyal friend. When he passed it left a hole in all of our lives that can never be filled.
We both found it impossible to offend each other, so we began to try harder. Nothing was off limits. Insults and comments that would make most people blanch or get sick were routine, and when either of us scored a victory we would shamelessly gloat in the most demeaning way we could manage.
So you're talking about stuff like this, perhaps?
Some of the best damn sh#t talking action I've seen on the Taco!
I think about Bob often. I stay in touch with Jocelyn. I call his mom. I send his parents cards on his birthday.
It's what it is to grow old: losing friends. I would much prefer to have another twenty years with him. He was one of those people that was almost indispensably clued in to what it is we are (and were) all about as climbers. Being with Bob was almost like seeing through and sharing the same set of eyes. I can still see the world without him, but not as well.
Let us know!