TM Herbert Appreciation Thread

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Messages 1 - 19 of total 19 in this topic
clode

Trad climber
portland, or
Topic Author's Original Post - Jul 26, 2017 - 01:08pm PT
I don't know if a thread with this title has occurred before (I can hardly believe it hasn't), but here's a new one, with some question to ponder (and maybe answer).

So what do the "T" and "M" in his name stand for?

I heard a rumor (actually, I'm just starting it now, at least that I know of), that the "clean" piece of gear known as "Crack-N-Ups", were named for TM, because he was always cracking people up! Is this true?
john hansen

climber
Jul 26, 2017 - 01:13pm PT
TM ="Tough, Motherfuka"


I think that's what he said when people asked..
clode

Trad climber
portland, or
Topic Author's Reply - Jul 26, 2017 - 01:15pm PT
^ That makes sense, so what is his REAL first name?
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jul 26, 2017 - 01:23pm PT
TM is his first name.

Like Y Von.

And you missed this one...
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.php?topic_id=289339&msg=289339#msg289339
Don Lauria

Trad climber
Bishop, CA
Jul 26, 2017 - 01:38pm PT
I know there has been at least one other TM Herbert Appreciation thread.

This is a reprint from an early thread revealing TM's explanation of his name.

Where do you start with TM? Let’s start with his name. As related to me by TM himself, his parents never attached names to the initials. According to his version, his birth certificate has only initials on it. Now it’s not unusual for people to be called by nicknames – sometimes by their initials. My son Don was usually referred to as “DJ” by his immediate family, but Herbert took it further. He says his name is “TM” and he should never be referred to as T.M. Herbert because the T and the M don’t stand for names. Okay, we got it, but do we believe it? I always have taken him at his word, so I believe it.

Okay, that’s a start. Now to explore the character. Talk about characters! TM is The American Climbing Character. Anybody professing knowledge of American rock climbing history knows of TM Herbert.

TM is the guy who wore a swami belt of 1-inch tubular nylon for part or possibly all of a climbing season without realizing the webbing had a splice maintained by masking tape somewhere around mid length. TM is the person that wrote those outrageously funny notes to me in the 70s imploring me to climb with him - stories funny enough to be published and republished. How can one forget his description of his physical prowess: “… I now weigh 103½ lb. and can still lift the front end of a D-9 tractor. And also I can hold a full lever on the high bar with my wee-wee.”

I was climbing Nutcracker Suite with TM back in the 70s. Above the crux somewhere we caught up with a couple of young climbers who were obviously finding the climbing a tad difficult. They were intently watching TM. As Herbert approached them finishing a difficult pitch involving a little lie-backing, he began what I have always referred to as Herbertian whimpering. Gasping, agonizingly, “Watch me here! I’m losing it! Waaaaaatch me!!” The young climbers were beginning to anticipate a catastrophic fall and visibly trembling. TM began muttering, for their benefit as he moved cautiously upward, “Five-eight … five-eight … oh, oh, 5.9 … No only five-eight … Watch me here!”All of a sudden, with his arms flailing, TM leapt from the lie-back landing right in front of the frightened spectators and began strolling up the steep face toward them gleefully dragging the rope behind him. His hands outstretched toward them, he broke into a trot, throwing in a few of his patented fake stumbles, “Fourth class … fourth class .., I’m saved ... Thank the Lord, I’m saved.” When I got to the belay spot shared with the kids, one of them whispered, “Is that TM Herbert?” I answered, “You think?”

TM hates RVs, house trailers, and the people that drive them. He once got so irate while trapped behind an RV on the Tioga road out of Lee Vining that he started pounding on his windshield. He pounded one too many times and it cracked. He told me that he once over took a guy in a house trailer coming up to Yosemite on the road out of Fresno. It seems the guy had passed up one too many turnouts for Herbert. He reached into the guy’s window grabbed his keys and flung them far out into the brush and left him there with his mouth agape. These were the things that raised his ire.

Herbert can be and often is a very stubborn person. He has his way of doing things and it is near impossible to change his mind. He has his rituals and don’t try to modify them. I don’t know how many times he has insisted that I stop at the dwarf Cedar on the descent off of Stately Pleasure Dome. “You’ve got to look at this tree. It’s almost as wide as it is tall.” I have repeatedly told him as we approached the tree that I am aware of its aspect ratio and that he is merely repeating himself. To no avail, “You’ve got to look at this tree. It’s almost as wide as it is tall.”

For years TM refused to buy a down jacket. He believed, because Chouinard convinced him, that wool was the only thing for bivouacs. “Stays warm even if it gets wet!” For that reason he never slept on a bivouac because he was too cold. I’ve mentioned before how he became a convert on the first ascent of BHOS Dome, but I didn’t mention that the conversion was successful only because he forgot his wool sweater and was forced to accept the loan of a down jacket.

Just ask his former wife, Jan. Anything inside the house was “squaw work’. “Braves” chopped wood. Braves did manly things. None of that girly housework for this brave. In fact, to some extent, Herbert was drawn away from a promising teaching career because carpentry was a man’s job – none of that wishy-washy political maneuvering in the educational field for him.

Don’t expect Herbert to accept your hospitality. He has ingrained in his sculpted cranium that it is an imposition to eat at your dinner table or sleep on your sheets. He often has insisted that he be able to heat his can of Dinty Moore stew on your stove while you ate your separate dinner. If he accepted a bed to sleep on, he always spread his sleeping bag on it – never turned the covers. Rather than eat at your table he will insist on going out to dinner – on him. In the old days that meant taking you to Sizzler because, “They have a great salad bar”.

As a climber, he was as safe as any I’ve ever climbed with. He didn’t take chances with the weather. He always placed bombproof belay anchors and never trusted a single rappel anchor unless it was a tree or a new bolt. That’s not to say he ever rappelled off a questionable anchor. He did if he had to, but he still didn’t trust it.

TM’s ability as a climber relied heavily on his strength. For someone who never weighed more than 160 pounds he had incredible strength. I use the past tense because he has quit climbing and working in Patagonia’s shipping department is not like working out at the gym. He quit climbing when his eyes got so bad he had trouble focusing on the holds and climbing with glasses was out of the question. Last time I saw him I noticed his hearing aids and listened to his complaints of dwindling strength. If you’ve ever experienced the firm grasp of your wrist by an adamant TM Herbert, then you know how insistent he can be. I would guess that at his age he’s still relatively strong, but he’s not up to his old standards and that means he can’t do what he used to do – climb.

Discussion of his incredible strength brings to mind one of TMs few winter mountaineering excursions. It was 1969. Yvon Chouinard, Doug Tompkins, TM Herbert, Bill Lang, Eric Rayson, and I spent about a week in the Northern Selkirks of Canada. We did a little climbing, but before making any attempts we warmed up on easy terrain with some snow and ice practice. On a steep, firm snow slope, we practiced self arrests. TM had very little experience in this venture and on his first running start he flung himself at high speed down the slope. In a fruitless attempt at rolling onto his axe and plunging the pick into the snow, he gave up and while descending at breakneck speed, he rolled onto his back and with his right arm outstretched, ice axe gripped firmly, he plunged the spike of the shaft into the snow and came to an immediate arm wrenching stop. How anyone could have maintained a grip on the shaft under such circumstances still boggles my mind. But then I remember his firm grasp on my wrist and I understand.

Thank god TM doesn’t have a computer and probably never will (did I say he was stubborn?) Unless someone, maybe his eldest, shows him this stuff, he’ll get it all word-of-mouth, subject to the usual inaccuracies. So I’ll always be able to claim that it was not quite what I said or that I didn’t say it at all.

So to finish up this brief series, there’s the time I and Susie Condon went to Baja with the Herbert family. We were all packed into his Chevy Suburban or International Travelall or whatever - TM, with his crewcut, Susie with her very blond hair, Jan with her infant son in her arms, and clean-shaven me along with chaise lounges, coolers, boxes of food, water containers, camping stove, sleeping bags, and tents. We went as far south as San Felipe and had a wonderful trip. On the return, as we were passing through the border station out of Tijuana, the border guards, for God knows what reason pulled us over. If there was ever a more straight-laced looking group, I couldn’t imagine it. Herbert was flabbergasted. Why me? Look I’m an American, a veteran, a father, an upright citizen. Why me?

All to no avail, they took everything out of the car and then began taking the inside side panels off. They used mirrors under the fenders and the frame. In all we were delayed over an hour. When they finished looking they said, “Okay, you can put it all back together now.” Then it took us another half hour to put the panels back on and reload the car.

The entire 125 mile trip back to Los Angeles was a non-stop Herbert tirade. The language was colorful and descriptive. The adjectives flowed eloquently from TM’s lips. I had never heard the Border Patrol described in so many different ways – all derogatory. I had no idea Nixon’s parentage was so questionable. I learned that there was a conspiracy against all of us with its protagonists firmly entrenched in Washington, D.C. And finally, when we arrived in LA I was totally surprised to learn that the Border Patrol hadn’t found a pot stash some unknown friend had left in TM’s glove compartment - a remnant from a party at which TM was the designated driver.


Dick Erb

climber
June Lake, CA
Jul 26, 2017 - 07:16pm PT
Don, that is a delightful read, and perceptively accurate description of TM.
rottingjohnny

Sport climber
Sands Motel , Las Vegas
Jul 26, 2017 - 07:34pm PT
Thanks Don...
Fossil climber

Trad climber
Atlin, B. C.
Jul 26, 2017 - 08:08pm PT
Thanks, Don - wonderful story! Herbert - I absolutely love the guy. As a guide he was more than you could ask. Kept you laughing all the time, and rock-solid. I felt good sending anybody out with him. I didn't realize he was so independent in terms of accepting meals or lodging or favours. I feel really good in that I managed to buy him and son a snack at Tioga Pass resort one time. Didn't realize how exceptional that was. Hope I didn't offend him. But I'll never know.

Never knew Herbert well or climbed anything good with him, but I think he's one of the finest guys I ever knew. Love long and prosper, TM!

Wayne
Steve Grossman

Trad climber
Seattle, WA
Jul 26, 2017 - 09:12pm PT
Several stories on the other thread about TM arresting falling climbers for gross negligence. Tough Mother=TM.
steveA

Trad climber
Wolfeboro, NH
Jul 27, 2017 - 05:08am PT
I am so glad that I did a few climbs with TM back in 1971. An un-forgetable character!
JerryA

Mountain climber
Sacramento,CA
Jul 27, 2017 - 07:02am PT
Back in the 1980's ,a friend was at Lover's Leap when a tall guy walked up & asked if he could join them as his partner had not shown. My friends partner asked him if had any experience & what he had climbed . It was TM . I climbed with Warren Harding a few weeks later at Cosumnes & he said that he had the same thing happen to him.
Bad Climber

Trad climber
The Lawless Border Regions
Jul 27, 2017 - 07:42am PT
Ah! Great stuff. I only met him a couple of times at the Leap. His sons were really young. Eh, so was I. Anyway, we were all standing around the boulders, and I was complaining about some pulled tendons and such in my fingers. TM said: "Yeah, I've had problems with my fingers for, oh, 25 years." ! Cracked me up. Now that I've had problems with my fingers for over a quarter century, I get it.

BAd
donini

Trad climber
Ouray, Colorado
Jul 27, 2017 - 08:06am PT
TM mentored me when I first showed up in the Valley in 69 or 70. I can recall my first pitch with TM leading.
Donini, watch me....the protection is at my knees! DONINI, watch me....the protection is below my foot, it's BELOW my FOOT!!! This all said with a dramatic stage voice.
Of course, I found out later that when TM was really concerned he was as quiet as a mouse.
TM Herbert truly an original....the world would be a better place if there were more like him.
PhilG

Trad climber
The Circuit, Tonasket WA
Jul 27, 2017 - 09:21am PT
Thanks Don for sharing some stories of a truly great personality.
I fondly remember his words of support when I chicken-out and bailed on a wall.
rick sumner

Trad climber
reno, nevada/ wasilla alaska
Jul 27, 2017 - 10:18am PT
I met TM only one time, but will forever be in his debt. In July 1976 he was among the volunteers my partner Gary Andersen recruited to help extricate my broken body from high up the north face bowl area of the Leap. TM took charge of the mechanics of lowering me out in the stokes litter. Thanks TM.
clode

Trad climber
portland, or
Topic Author's Reply - Jul 27, 2017 - 12:33pm PT
Thanks Don, I love reading this sh!t! And everyone else for their contributions too!
Mike Honcho

Trad climber
Glenwood Springs, CO
Jul 27, 2017 - 01:31pm PT
So, in 1993 I was cruising through the Valley on my way to the National Sport Climbing Championships in Emeryville, City Rock.

I did this every year and was a great reason to do a thing or 2 on my way. That year I wanted to do the Bachar Yerian on Medlicott. The guidebook, so awesome, just said "11c X, take a #4 Friend."... period, that was the description, so I asked Tommy Herbert if I could borrow a #4 friend, the guidebook did not say where this ONE single piece of gear went but Tommy reached into his massive rack and chucked me this old ass #4 Friend and that was that.

Right at the end of all the scary runout pitches you get to this horizontal feature and it becomes super obvious that the Friend goes RIGHT THERE. I pulled it out and it was this old ass rigid stemmed crap #4 and as I was thinking Tommy was a d#@&%e and trying to get it placed right, I noticed it had stamped onto the stem "TM Herbert". He had given me one of his dads old pieces.. I suddenly got all warm and fuzzy, while I was all terrified, I put it in and started climbing. We topped out with little fanfare after that.

That I returned that Friend and didn't just keep that piece will haunt me to the grave. Was a neato little history thingy on a classic route that requires one piece of gear in 500'.. TM was legend then and he still holds up. My one story folks, thanks for reading.

Hankster
Nature Boy

Trad climber
Portland, OR
Jul 27, 2017 - 05:21pm PT
Funny you mention this Hankster. My most prized piece of climbing gear is a humble little Chouinard Lite D that I bootied on Royal Arches in the late 80's when my brother and I linked up RA with Crest Jewel one fine September day. The 'biner was just lying there, low on the route with a sling and Stopper attached. The Stopper wasn't placed so the rig was either dropped from above or just plain forgotten.

Being a poor college student, I was happy with my find and carried on with the day's adventure. The next day while recovering in Camp 4 I discovered that one side of the gate had the initials TM stamped in it and the other side was engraved with "Herbert". Now I was ecstatic!

Fast forward a few years, I'm out climbing in Real Hidden Valley in Joshua Tree and who should walk by but TM and his son Tommy. Of course, I instantly recognized them both. I said "howdy" and we exchanged pleasantries, but I said nothing about the precious 'biner. Don't anybody go and tell him I have it. I'm not givin' it up!
WBraun

climber
Jul 27, 2017 - 05:28pm PT
One day TM came out of the woods, looked me straight in the eyes and gave long pause .....

He said; "I don't climb anymore" "I just take photos of birds now".

The life and times of an American rock climbing legend TM Herbert .......
Messages 1 - 19 of total 19 in this topic
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